Bash Page 2

  “Be careful,” I chastise. My concern leaks through, although the only thing I should be trying to do is get out of here as quickly as possible. It’s nighttime, and I’m with a bleeding stranger. “Let me hold the light so you can see where you step.” I don’t think he’s used to having a woman help him, but I can’t seem to stop myself.

  “This is sweet, havin’ you fuss over me like this.” He completely ignores my cautionary suggestion and takes a hefty step, only to trip and fall down. “Fuck!” The gorgeous brute curses and I move to pick up his phone that’s flown a few feet away. “Shit, that hurt,” he grumbles.

  “I’ve read that after an accident you can be disoriented and need assistance walking. That’s why I offered.”

  “Well, that makes me an idiot, I suppose,” he complains, moving slower to stand this time.

  “That’s not what I meant, I just…well, never mind. Are you okay?”

  He expels a heavy breath and nods. “You…ah…wanna help me out, then? I’ll check out your car too.”

  “Um, sure. Um, you don’t have to do that. I mean, really, I made you wreck. This is all my fault.”

  “Sweet pea—”

  “Savannah.”

  “Huh?”

  “My name…it’s Savannah. Savannah Mae Lexington.”

  “Nice to meet ya, Miss Lexington.”

  “Please, Savannah is fine.”

  He nods, and I duck under his arm to offer him some added balance. I point his phone in front of us and carefully guide him to take slow steps, so he doesn’t fall again. “Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he mentions.

  “Are you flirting with me right now?”

  He chuckles, only to groan in pain. “Just callin’ it like I see it. I meant no offense, just stating facts. Kind of hard not to notice your beauty when I have you next to me.”

  “I’m not offended in the slightest. Just surprised that you’re well enough to flirt after a serious accident. It’s actually comforting to know you’re not completely disoriented.”

  His grin remains firmly in place, and I find myself drawn to the handsome biker’s easy smile. “Do me a favor and pop open your hood, would ya?” he asks as he leans against the front of my car.

  “I can’t believe you’re trying to help me after what just happened,” I mumble and climb behind the wheel. I reach down by my leg to pull the hood release latch. It makes a popping sound, and I stare out ahead to watch him mess with the hood latch, moaning and groaning to himself.

  “Stay there, Savannah, and crank the engine when I tell you to.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  He lifts the hood with a pained grunt, and I nearly hop out to help. He’s a manly man, though, and I’m sure he’d take offense to it, rather than allow me to step in. I still feel a sense of guilt as my car nearly killed the guy, and here he is hurting while attempting to fix it.

  There’s a bit of clanging around, and the light from his phone is moving all over the space. It illuminates underneath the hood, and it takes everything in me to stay rooted in place as he instructed. I want to see whatever he sees. Maybe I would be able to fix the car myself the next time it breaks down and leaves me stranded on the side of the road.

  “All right,” he calls out loudly. “Try it now.”

  Pressing the brake and key in, I turn the ignition switch, and the engine starts right up. My headlights illuminate as well as the interior light, and my radio blares some country song. I hurry to turn the music down and watch as the biker steps away and slams the hood closed. “Oh, my God, thank you!” I cheer, a smile finally gracing my face after all the stress of the evening.

  “You’re welcome, but, um, could I possibly ask you for a ride? My brothers aren’t in the best shape tonight to tow my bike or pick me up. I was coming from the bar.” He shrugs, wincing with the move. “I’ll have to come back for my motorcycle tomorrow. Hopefully, it’s not as bad in the daylight.”

  The smile drops, and I sniffle, ready to explode with more tears. Knowing his motorcycle is trashed, and he’ll be wanting to be compensated for it has sent me into a panic. I couldn’t pay him no matter how hard I tried. “I-I have insurance,” I stammer, my mind going a million miles a minute, it seems. “They’ll pay for it…even if we don’t call the cops, right?” The last thing I need is the police over here. I can already imagine the tickets they’ll write for my car being in the street and causing an accident. Just one more thing to add to my already dwindling stash of cash. I’m supposed to be saving money, not creating new ways to have to spend it.

  He shoots me a puzzled look before shaking his head. “You ever been in a wreck before?”

  “No,” I admit softly, and gesture for him to get in on the opposite side. He may be a stranger, but after everything we’ve experienced tonight, I’m not leaving him on the side of the road.

  He pulls the door open, and I watch his stiff movements. He easily fills the passenger seat. Although he’s not a huge man, he’s tall and packed with lean muscle. My little hatchback may as well be a clown car compared to him. The leather vest with various patches makes him look every bit the rebel I’m sure he is. Add in disarray from the wreck, and he appears more like a handsome serial killer or something along those lines.

  “I’m sorry, the tiny space must be uncomfortable for you. You can have my jacket to put behind you if you need something to lean against for your ribs. The lever is under the seat if you want to try and get it to move back some more as well.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. Also, just so you know, without us reporting the wreck, the insurance most likely won’t pay. Who’s your company anyhow?”

  More tears fall as I realize that’s another indulgence I don’t have on this car. Rather than admit it, I say, “I-I didn’t pay my bill. I’m so screwed. I’ll figure out a way to pay you, I promise.” I’m an emotional mess. This wreck has me more sensitive than usual. I thought the man was dead, for Christ’s sake; fortunately, he’s alive and well enough to hold a conversation with me. “My word is good. I’ll prove it to you somehow.”

  He reaches over and tenderly squeezes my shoulder. “It’s okay, Savannah Mae. We haven’t seen what my bike looks like. It may not be that serious. I’ll take a look tomorrow when it’s light out.”

  I nod, already aware it’s a completely mangled mess, and he’s far too calm and friendly with me about it. Anything that sounds as bad as it did scraping against the asphalt couldn’t possibly be salvageable. “Okay,” I agree, even though it’s not anywhere close to being all right. I’ll pretend for the moment and worry about it tomorrow when he finally grasps the damage. There’s nothing I can do about it at the moment, except maybe offer him my tips for the night, and I’m too embarrassed to bring that up right now. I need to catch my breath and come up with a plan. This winging it crap has been completely draining me. At some point, everything has to stop and become normal again.

  “One of the cables on your battery came off. That’s why your car wasn’t working for you. I put it back in place, but it’ll need to be tightened, so it doesn’t keep happening. If you swing by tomorrow, I can fix it, so it doesn’t leave you stranded again.”

  His words tear me from my self-pitying thoughts. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

  “Savannah, if I don’t, then someone else needs to. It’ll pop right back off at the first decent-sized bump you hit, and who knows when that’ll be or where. Just get it tightened, or let me do it. At least you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it, really. Where am I taking you, exactly?”

  “I was headed home, but you can drop me by my clubhouse instead, as it’s closer. It’s on this road a ways down, at the old fire station. You’ll see the turnoff up ahead on the right with the big garage and whatnot.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek, keeping my eyes peeled for it. “Okay.” Moments later, as the silence becomes too much for me to bear, I find myself whispering again. “I’m so sor
ry for everything.”

  “Shit happens, and you obviously needed my help. Sounds to me like there was a reason for me wrecking. No telling what could’ve happened to you out there alone. Someone with shitty intentions could’ve found you. I’m a bit rough around the edges, but I would never hurt you or anything. Guess it was fate’s twisted way of bringing us together.” He points and mutters, “Turn right up here…see the reflector?”

  I follow his instructions, veering off, and then follow along until a decent sized building comes into view. There are a few bikes and various trucks parked in front.

  “This is your club? A motorcycle club?”

  “Yep. You can stop by any time, and I’ll check that battery for you. You find anything else, you let me know, and I’ll see what I can do for you.”

  “I-I don’t even know your name,” I admit softly as he opens his door, and the car light illuminates him. He’s still covered in blood and dirt, scratched up with a few tears in his shirt. Yet, he’s offering to help me out. I’m surprised he hasn’t attempted to kill me for ruining his motorcycle and injuring him. I doubt any of the guys I wait on at the restaurant would be this nice to me about making them wreck into my car.

  He offers a sexy smirk and confidently offers, “I’m Bash. The Kings of Carnage Vice President, angel.” He winks, and the car door closes swiftly after. I’m left wondering if I’ll ever see the bloody, grinning biker again.

  Two

  I’m not totally useless, I can be used as a bad example. - Unknown

  “It’s fucked…” I mutter to Jinx, my gut clenching at discovering something I love being ruined. He came along to help me with my bike, and I probably should’ve come alone. It’s the first time I’m seeing it in the daylight, and even I know deep down there’s nothing I can do to ride it home today. “Fucking fuck, fuck.”

  He shakes his head, expelling a breath. “Don’t know what to tell you…should’ve gotten the light fixed.”

  I shoot him a glower in response. We all checked out that fucking headlight. None of us could figure out what was really wrong with it or fix the damn thing for good. It’s embarrassing, to say the least. We ride bikes twenty-four-seven, and a headlight took me out. My brothers will never let me live this down.

  “What are you going to do?” he questions as I send a text to North and the prez, giving them a heads up that it’s far too jacked up to ride. They were just relieved to know I survived the accident without getting too busted up. I could’ve died, and Prez would’ve had my head even after the outcome for leaving him to deal with all the old fucked-up club shit. We’ve been friends for a long time, compliments of a game of pool and a few bets. The moody bastard counts on me to have his six, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “Guess the only thing there is to do, is have it towed. Otherwise, it’ll take all of us to get it on a damn trailer. I have a bit of cash saved. I’ll have to look into finding another bike for the time being. This one won’t get me two fucking feet.” I shrug, kicking a rock in the direction of the mangled metal. My neck’s on fire with the stress of it. I’ve ridden this bike for five years, even got it airbrushed all fancy and shit. Had it done by an Oath Keeper called Spin when we rode through Texas a while back. “It’ll be a bit before I have something this nice again, that I don’t doubt.”

  “It’s a shame,” he replies.

  I grumble, more to myself, chastising, “Fuckin’ headlight! What are the odds I’d run into a broken-down car in the middle of the goddamn road?” My fists clench, the sensation of wanting to lay into something hitting me fiercely. The brothers call me Bash because I have a habit of bashing objects with my fists. I’m not some roided-up psycho or anything, just like to hit things when I’m pissed.

  I find my buddy’s number who owns a local tow service and shoot him a text. I include the location and the service I need, so he has a heads-up to bring along help. He replies instantly, and I meet Jinx’s gaze. “He’ll be here in twenty. I appreciate you coming with me.”

  He nods, and we leave it at that. This is just a small piece of our brotherhood. We always have someone around when we need ‘em. Having each other’s backs is non-negotiable, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “Hey, VP, a chick’s out front asking for you,” North grunts, his voice low and tense. I nod my thanks. I’m used to our enforcer’s gruff demeanor and think nothing of it, as I know it’s not personal. I don’t know much about him. Hell, no one really does, but he’s proved himself around here.

  Not sure who’d be asking for me; it’s not like I have regular visitors. It’s been days since the accident, so I’m no longer expecting to see the sweet little thing I wrecked into show up around here. I won’t lie; I’d hoped Savannah would stop through like I’d told her to, but she never did. Yesterday I’d figured that she was probably trying to stay the hell away from me. She’d seen me beating the shit outta my headlight before I dented up her car and was knocked unconscious. I must’ve scared her, and I can’t say I blame her for keeping the distance. If I was in her shoes, I’d probably be doing the same.

  Prez flashes me a look on my way out, silently asking who the fuck is coming around. I shrug, not sure what to tell him. We’re not exactly keen on people sniffing around, especially with all the shit we’ve gone through cleaning up his father’s messes. I get why he’s asking. I would be too. I toss my empty Sprite bottle in the trash and take comfort in my weapon, weighing down my holster. I’ve had to shoot my share of twisted fucks. Still, hopefully, this isn’t another one who’ll be taking a bullet courtesy of my forty-five. Although, North said it’s a woman, so I doubt it.

  My mouth drops as I hit the parking area and notice who’s waiting there. It’s the innocent angel from my wreck…she finally showed after all. I’ve been referring to her as that in my mind the entire time. When I’d gained consciousness, she was right there, leaning over me, stars twinkling behind her, and I swear to God, I thought she was an angel come to collect my soul. Now that I think of it, I know better than to believe I’d be headed upward. My ass will be dragged straight down to the deep depths of Hell when I finally meet the reaper.

  Savannah was a beautiful sobbing mess that night last week, as tears had soaked her creamy flesh. She’d smelled like delicious fried food, too; she was still in her uniform from work. I’m surprised I remember that much. Usually, I’m too busy cataloging tits and ass to see if they’d be decent prospects for Centerfolds or to dip my dick into. With this woman, I can’t seem to go there, to disrespect her like that. She’s a fucking angel, and anyone treating her differently deserves a swift kick to the throat. She’s far too sweet to deal with the bullshit that I’m sure she often receives, with how docile and naive she appears to be.

  “Sweet Pea?” I greet with one of the nicknames I’d come up with for her, as I get closer wearing a surprised, but pleased grin. Sweet Pea and Angel are two fitting names for my little road hazard.

  She blushes, tucking a long lock of hair behind her ear. She glances at her feet before meeting my eyes. “You’re, uh, Bash, right?”

  My smile widens as I nod and reply a bit smugly. “Last time I checked.” Her rosy hue, mixed with my name on her lips, makes my fucking dick hard. She was a beautiful broken mess when I first met her, but this woman before me is absolutely stunning. The type of beautiful that’ll steal your breath or make your chest ache.

  “You look different.”

  “Oh, right, I’m missing the blood, dirt, and ruined clothes,” I retort with a chuckle. “I’m not the only one who’s different,” I point out. Her long hair has been curled into big, fluffy waves, and she’s got on a light blue sundress. Doesn’t she know that coming here, looking sweet as a fucking Georgia peach, is tempting the very devil in front of her? I flick my gaze from her perfectly layered curls down to her pale pink painted toes and black flip-flops. “You clean up well…really well.” I’ve got to figure out a way to see more of her, that I’m certain of.

  She bite
s her bottom lip, interest reflecting back at me. I’ve pegged it in many women’s gazes, and hers is wide open for me to interpret. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  “Was that a compliment, Sweet Pea? You flirting, babe?” I tease, repeating the same question she’d asked me as I’d complimented her, half out of it from wrecking.

  She shrugs, drawing in a quick breath. “Take it however you want to. I came to bring you this.” She holds her dainty hand toward me. There are two twenties folded in her palm.

  My brow raises as confusion fills me. “What’s that for?” Is she expecting to pay me for tightening her battery cable?

  Chicks only offer me money for one reason, and it’s because they’re tweaking, looking for drugs. Savannah doesn’t strike me as the type wanting to score some blow. It’s probably one of the reasons why I find her so unbelievably sexy. A bitch with her shit together is hot as all hell. Sure, she was freaked out when I wrecked. That’s understandable, but this woman already admitted to me she’s doing everything she can to pay her bills and put food on her table. It’s too easy for people to just jack off and not care. She tries, and I respect her for it.

  “Your motorcycle. I don’t have much…but I promise to give you any extra money I do have. I think I can bring you twenty each day. If my tips are better, then more.”

  I can tell by the way she fidgets that she’s embarrassed by this. She needn’t be. I know she can’t make much money working around here on the outskirts of Atlanta. Especially not at that little diner down the road. The place is usually full of coffee drinkers, not hefty tippers. Big money is in the city, and that’s a decent drive from here, depending on how far you gotta go and what the traffic looks like. Besides, I’d rather take repayment in other, more creative ways. “Angel, you have any idea how much my bike cost? Or how much cash I’d need to replace it, for that matter?”