Bash Page 4

  “Would you mind that, doll? I don’t want to put you out or anything. I can make a few trips, though. Don’t want to fuck up our grub.” He grabs four of the bags, leaving me three and the condiment bag.

  “It’s no trouble at all.” I grab the others and follow his lead. He stops at a big truck parked out front and loads the food into the passenger side. I hand over the other bags and go to head back inside.

  He stops me, saying, “Your tip, doll.”

  “Oh, thank you!” I flash a surprised, grateful smile as Sly hands some cash over. I take it without looking, thinking it’s a dollar or two, same as my other tips during the day. Most of the people stopping in are coffee drinkers and sandwich eaters, so I don’t make much. Sundays are the best days for tips with the church crowd, and I rarely get lucky enough to have that shift. He grins, walking around the truck and offers me a salute as he slides in behind the wheel. The handsome tatted man pulls away, and I nearly pinch myself as it doesn’t feel real. At another time, if I hadn’t already met Bash, I’d be asking all about Sly.

  I step back inside, opening my palm to stuff the cash into my apron. As I glance down, not paying it much mind, I see that it’s not only a dollar bill but a twenty. For all the negative things Mary Ellen had to say about the Kings of Carnage guys, so far, none of it seems like it could be true. Not even close. The two members I’ve come across have been somewhat polite and friendly, and both of them have helped me in different ways. Bash helped with my broken-down car, and now Sly has helped by giving me a big tip without asking for anything in return. Granted, his bill couldn’t have been cheap with all the food he ordered, but it was a to-go order, and around here, people barely tip anything when they take the food with them.

  “Lordy, I can’t believe you went outside alone with him!” the older woman chastises as I flip the open sign on the door to closed and turn the lock, then head for the soda machine. I can finally finish. We’ve been so freaking slow today, I have practically everything done already, so I can leave right away. I’m exhausted from being on my feet all dang day and want to get back to my shithole apartment to relax. This stress is killing me.

  “He was a perfect gentleman. I’m sure you watched the entire exchange.”

  Her cheeks pink a bit as she stacks the bottles under the counter. She’d finally finished filling them and wiping everything down. “Well, I wasn’t going to let you get kidnapped without calling in the law.”

  I chuckle, shaking my head at her overreaction. What would Mary Ellen think if she knew everything about me? She’d probably lump me into the same category she has the bikers and write me off completely. I want to tell her not to waste her time calling the cops for me—ever. It’d probably only do more harm than good, in my case. I’m not going to, however. Knowing her, she’d be gossiping about me next.

  “Thanks for your concern, but I survived.” I flash a fake smile in her direction. I don’t know why her opinions and reactions toward the bikers piss me off so much, but they do. Maybe because I’ve seen firsthand how they treat me, and it was nothing like she’d referred to.

  “I’m out of here,” I call loudly enough so Sam can hear me as well. They both chime in with their goodbyes, and I grab my purse from under the counter. I head out the front door and off to the side parking lot where I always park my hatchback. Wrenching the door open, I hop in, exhaling in relief that my day is over, and I don’t have to deal with any more people. I toss my purse into the passenger seat along with my rolled-up apron and stick the key into my ignition.

  The hunk of junk doesn’t start when I turn it over. I do what any sane woman in my position would. I scream at the steering wheel and then hold my breath as I attempt to get the stubborn car to start again. It doesn’t work, and there’s still no response when I turn the key. I sit, pondering what my options are for a few minutes, but there’s not much more I can do. I need to call for a ride home and worry about this car in the morning when it’s not night time and I’m alone out here without any idea on how to fix the damn car. With an angry glower, I grab my shit and hurry back to the restaurant’s front door. Mary Ellen already locked it up, so I beat on the window, hoping someone’s still inside. It’s no use. She and Sam left out the back door, probably right after I did.

  Near tears, I sit on the curb outside the restaurant’s front door. The past few months have been hard on me, but there’s nothing I can do to change that. I have a feeling it’s only going to get worse at this rate. There’s a streetlamp over here, so it doesn’t seem quite as creepy as the parking lot.

  A truck pulls to stop on the curb. The window rolls down, and Sly’s handsome face pops out. “You okay?”

  I shake my head. Not in the slightest, but I don’t admit it to him. “I need to use the phone and the restaurant’s locked up.”

  He holds his hand out his window with his cell. “You can use mine, anytime, just ask.”

  I jump up, coming closer. “Thanks.” It’s one of those cheap prepaid phones like my own that has no minutes. I ask, “Do you happen to know the number for a cab or an Uber?”

  He shakes his head, flicking his verdant gaze from my toes up to my own hazel orbs. “If you need a ride, hop in. It was luck or something; I had to stop by Mooney’s Pub before heading back to the club. Glad I did, or you may’ve been stuck here all night.”

  I know what he means. We’re on the outskirts of Atlanta, and there’s not a lot around unless you get closer to the city. “I appreciate the offer, and while you seem nice, I can’t get into a truck with a man I don’t know.”

  “Isn’t Uber basically the same thing?”

  “Yeah, but it’s their job,” I argue, attempting to be rational.

  “It really is your lucky night,” he mutters cryptically and hits some buttons on his cell before putting it to his ear. The other person picks up as he begins speaking into the phone. “Brother? Yeah. Found your angel on the curb outside the diner.”

  A moment later, Sly looks to me, asking, “Your car break again?”

  I nod.

  He speaks back to the person on the phone. “Yep, it’s fucked. All right, I’ll let her know.” He hangs up and meets my curious stare. “Bash said to sit tight; he’s on his way.”

  “What? No. He doesn’t need to come here. I’m fine, really.”

  He snorts and digs into one of the bags I put in his truck. He comes back with a handful of fries that he stuffs into his mouth. He just watches me and eats.

  “What are you doing?” I ask after observing him eat all of his fries.

  “I’m waiting for my brother. Bash is on his way, and if I’m not here keeping an eye on your safety, he’ll be pissed the fuck off. Not trying to deal with my brother and his short fuse. The motherfucker is called Bash for a reason, and I like to hit back.” He winks with that last little detail.

  Holy shit, it’s been a little over a week since I came across these guys, and suddenly, they’re everywhere. And why on earth doesn’t that bother me? No matter what I do, I can’t seem to get Bash off my mind. Knowing I’ll be straddling him has me squeezing my legs together. I’ve attempted to ward off the ever-present ache that’s been there since he took me for a ride yesterday at lunch. I mean, straddling his bike…not him. Oops.

  Four

  I’m not crazy, my reality is just different from others. - Alice in Wonderland

  I’m shocked that Sly hit me up, letting me know that Angel’s car is leaving her stranded again. How he was around long enough to find out is beyond me. I just fixed the damn battery cable yesterday. I made sure to tighten it enough so it wouldn’t pop off again. I have a feeling this is the beginning of a downward spiral of her car taking a shit on her for good. Luckily for Savannah, I know my way around old ass vehicles like her hatchback. If it were some new model, she’d really be screwed because I haven’t the slightest clue about the computers and what not they shove inside them nowadays.

  I’d filled my brothers in on my wreck last week. I let them know h
ow Savannah didn’t hesitate to make sure I was all right. I had to bring them up on the details since my bike was totaled, and I needed a ride to check it out and get it towed. Then yesterday, they saw Sweet Pea come to the clubhouse and ride off with me to lunch. Today, I’d asked Sly to specifically hit up the small diner and get us something to munch on before we party tonight. I figured it’d be a good way to check in on her without actually being there and also hooking her up with some extra cash. I know she needs it, even if she’d never admit it. I’m glad he took my suggestion and stopped by, or Savannah could’ve ended up stranded or hitchhiking home without anyone knowing about it.

  She seriously needs to get her fucking phone back. At least then I can make sure she has my number programmed so she can hit me up if she ever needs anything. I may have let her believe that she’s in debt to me because my motorcycle was totaled in the wreck, but that’s not the reality of it. The truth of the matter is, anyone could’ve left me on the side of the road and split. Or else not given a flying fuck whether I was still breathin’ or had met the reaper. Savannah stuck by my side, sobbing her eyes out, praying I was okay. When I saw that angel holding me like I was the most precious fucking thing to her, I knew I had to find a way to be in her life. Obviously, this is the way I’m going to do it. At least until she gives in to my charm and allows me to put her fine ass in my bed.

  I pull my new motorcycle to a stop behind my brother’s truck, my body still aching from the wreck. Dropping the kickstand in place, I swing my leg over, breathing through the sharp pain slicing through me and offer Savannah a grin. I wanted to see her so fucking bad today, and I ended up getting a chance. It looks like fate was on my side again.

  “Brother,” I greet Sly. His truck smells amazing—like french fries—and it causes my stomach to grumble from hunger.

  He flashes me an amused grin. “You want your grub now, or you holding off?”

  “I’ll wait. Appreciate you sticking around with Angel.”

  He bobs his nearly shaved head and mutters, “I was on my way back from stopping by the pub. Glad I caught her.” He must’ve been out collecting protection money for the MC. It’s one of his responsibilities. I’ve gone with him before on a few collections. It was a little too dull for me, so I stick to what I do best. I maintain our drug relationships and distribution. The Kings of Carnage has many lucrative business ventures; mine happens to lie in drugs.

  “Me too. I’ll catch up with you at the clubhouse.” I chin-lift his way, and he returns the notion, pulling away from the curb.

  I turn around, finding the gorgeous spitfire watching me curiously. “Hey, Sweet Pea, you straight?”

  Her lips tilt up. She’s pleased to see me, even if she attempts to play it cool. I can read it all over that perfect, pouty mouth of hers. Those lips were made to do more than just talk, there’s not a doubt in my mind. “I’m never going to stop owing you if you keep helping me out. I’m always stranded around you, it appears.”

  I wave her comment off. “This is what friends do, yeah? You helped me when I needed it, now I do the same for you.”

  She releases a nervous breath, and I hold out a hand. She takes it, allowing me to help her to her feet. “Thanks, Bash, I really don’t know what I’d do without you and your friend.”

  “Sly.”

  She nods, “Yeah, he was nice enough to let me use his phone when I asked, but then he took it right back. He wasn’t going to have me call for an Uber. He said you’d want to know and would be on your way. Are you guys always like this with people needing a hand?”

  “He’s right. I did want to come get you and consider yourself an exception to our usual attitude toward civilians.” I tug her closer, noticing the goosebumps peppering the creamy skin on her arm. “You cold?”

  She shrugs. “I’ll live. It could be worse; I could be stuck out here alone and cold.”

  I grunt, heading over to my saddlebag. I put a hoodie in there last night after I finished signing the paperwork for my new motorcycle. It was chilly last night, too, so I’m glad I left it in here. After having Savannah on the bike, it was a done deal. I had to have it, as it would always remind me of her first ride and her dress flying high to flash my brothers. I fold up the shirt in my hands until I have the head opening between my grip and pop it over Savannah’s silky hair.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she argues, blowing the locks out of her face and making me chuckle.

  “I want to. Now put it on the rest of the way, Sweet Pea.” She does as she’s told, and fuck me if she doesn’t look hella sexy all wrapped up in my big shirt. It falls mid-thigh on her, and the KOCMC emblem across the front makes her look every bit mine. She pulls the collar up to her nose, taking a deep inhale. “Probably smells like exhaust, sorry about that.”

  She shakes her head. “It does a little, but I still smell you in it. Plus, it’s warm, so that trumps exhaust scent any day.”

  I chuckle and lean in a touch closer. “You know how I smell, hm?”

  She nods, biting down on her perfectly plump bottom lip. “I held on to you yesterday, remember? I had no choice but to sniff you being that close.”

  “Mm. I couldn’t forget it if I tried beautiful. How about you hop on and hold onto me some more?”

  “I’d like that,” she agrees with a soft smile, and I turn away, leading her to my bike.

  I swing my leg over, getting comfortable. “We’re having a party tonight at the club. How about you come with me and cut loose?” I suggest, holding her hand as she climbs on my bike, placing her feet on the back pegs.

  She yawns. “I’m sure you guys are a lot of fun, but I’m so tired. I had to work all day, and I really want to go to bed.” Her hands land on my sides, sliding against my shirt until they reach my abs. I cringe to myself with the soreness but suck it up. It’s what I’ve been doing since she showed up yesterday, pretending my ribs aren’t bothering me anymore. I walk the bike forward, and the move has me clenching my stomach and gritting my teeth. Aside from soreness still in my bones, my desire for her is fucking fierce, and it only increases with every touch I receive from her.

  “It’s a shame, babe. Would’ve liked seeing you chill with me.” I crank the engine, noting how she scoots as close as possible to my back. She must’ve learned to duck in and hold on from yesterday.

  “Rain check?” she calls over my shoulder, and my mood lifts with her suggestion. Hell, I’ll throw another party myself, just to get her ass out with me.

  “Of course. Anytime, and I mean that.” I pull from the curb, asking loudly, “Am I going in the right direction?”

  “Yes. I live in those brown apartments down the road from your club.”

  “No shit?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I live there too.”

  “Seriously?”

  I nod and holler, “Hold on.” I turn up the radio, allowing “Enter Sandman” by Metallica to blare loudly. We hit the dark, deserted stretch of road the club’s on, and I gun it, concentrating on the road ahead of us. What are the odds the woman of my most recent fantasies lives in the same apartment complex that I do? Granted, I’m not there much, and we must not live on the same side, because I know there’s no way in hell I ever could’ve missed her being a neighbor. The angel takes my breath away and makes my cock tingly in the best sort of way whenever she’s around.

  With the wind raking through our hair, I enjoy the cool night air on our short ride. The best part is having her snuggled up to my back. I wish she would’ve been open to partying tonight, but at least I got her to offer me a rain check. Maybe it’s not her scene.

  Hell, I need a drink something fierce with how bad I’ve been aching. I love a stiff vodka tonic and enjoy getting my dick wet at our parties. The crazy nights are part of what drew me into the MC, aside from Chaos, my prez. He’s become my best friend over the years, the brother I can rely on the most. I’ve been by his side for too long now to imagine changing my way of life. The club is everything to me
, and I hope that’s not a deal-breaker for the spicy Southern belle on the back of my ride.

  Turning into the apartments, Savannah points to the left, directing me to her place in the front of the building. It figures that I was right about her being on opposite sides. My spot is to the right, tucked around the complex. It offers me more privacy, which is what I prefer, being associated with the MC. You never know when a rival or disgruntled dickhead may see where you live and seek some retribution. It doesn’t bother me when I’m at the club, knowing my brothers are all around me to help watch my back. At home, though, I like to sleep at night, not worrying I’ll be gunned down at two a.m. for whoever I recently rubbed wrong.

  “This is it,” she instructs, and I pull up to the curb.

  Kicking my stand down, I climb off, then hold my palm out to her and grab my bike with my free hand. She takes the offering, allowing me to help her off. “Careful of the pipes, Sweet Pea. Just like yesterday,” I remind, and she offers me a sweet smile. The bitch is fucking beautiful. She doesn’t drop my hand as I allow her to lead me to her door.

  “This one’s mine.” She thumbs in the direction of the blue door. It’s not navy, nor pastel, just a medium blue that’s been painted on all of our doors when the owners attempted to freshen them up and bring in more tenants.

  My head bobs. “I’m in six-oh-five around the back. If you ever need anything, you hit me up, ‘kay, babe?”

  “Thank you, Bash.”

  “It’s Sebastian.”

  “Excuse me?”

  I stand a bit taller, my back straightening and chest-puffing as I confess, “My name…it’s Sebastian. You can keep callin’ me Bash or Seb or Sebastian…whatever you feel comfortable with.”