Outlaw's Obsession Read online

Brass was closer. I watched my brother's face as his VP counterpart threw an arm around him. Brass staggered back against me as he worked himself outta the other man's headlock. I was ready to grab his wrists and hold them so he wouldn't clock the motherfucker and start the all-out war between charters we'd been dreading right here in the meeting room.

  “What?” Big Ed looked genuinely shocked that Brass threw him off. “Do I look like some fucking Pedro smuggling coke up my ass? You boys are way too jumpy. Fang was never afraid of a little hello from your outstate brothers. There's more to this world than fucking California, you know.”

  That did it. Blackjacked stepped up, his fists flexed at his sides. He was older than the rest of us, but he was wiser too. I wouldn't have counted him down any day, even against a big man like Ed.

  “This club's under new leadership now. Mine. My patch trumps yours, and it trumps Rip's too. I know damned well what Fang did. He also didn't tolerate any disrespect, and neither do I.” Blackjack's fist went flying.

  It collided with Big Ed's jaw. The dumb bastard lunged for the Prez a second later, and everybody piled on him. I held one fist while Roman got him in a headlock, squeezing off the fucker's windpipe 'til he started to go limp. I swore the big man was smiling behind his expressionless mask, ready to hold on until the Oregon VP's lights went out and never returned.

  “Prez!” Brass looked at Blackjack with panicked eyes. “This fucker's a disrespectful, deviant piece of shit – but isn't it a little early to kill him? We need to find out why he's here.”

  Blackjack stared a moment longer. Big Ed's hand was starting to go limp in mine, ready to fall over with the rest of him. Finally, the Prez nodded.

  “Let him up.”

  Ed tumbled to the ground, coughing and spluttering. He winced when his knees hit the floor. Blackjack stepped up, stabbed his boot on one hand. The fat man roared as his fingers crunched beneath it.

  “You want to be our brother? Then show me we can trust you and the rest of your crew. Get Rip on the line right fucking now, and we'll forget this disgrace ever happened.” Prez flashed his angry eyes at the rest of us. “Everybody out! This is high level business. I'll call if our friend here wants to try anything stupid again.”

  Brass and I exchanged wide-eyed looks. If some crazy shit wasn't a weekly occurrence here, we'd have needed to pinch each other to believe it was really happening.

  “You found the right pussy to take your mind off the redhead yet, or what?” Brass knocked back his second shot of whiskey at the bar.

  I'd barely touched mine, knowing the bullshit questions would start. Good thing I came prepared.

  “Hey, man. At least I can still pick and choose my chicks as I please – one of the many advantages of not being strapped down with an old lady.”

  He laughed. “Brother, I get the only pussy I'll ever need whenever I want it. Fuck, Missy's become insatiable since I put my brand on her. I'm lucky to get a few nights with more than five hours of shut eye with all the fucking we've been doing. And I still manage to drag my ass in here on time.”

  Low blow. Bastard. Who was I gonna have to punch to get them off my ass?

  “Come on. Don't be pissed. Drink your medicine.” Grinning, Brass slid a shot into my hand. “You know I'm just fucking around. Prez is gonna be pissed if you fuck off duty again, though.”

  “I told you, it's not gonna happen another time. I've learned my lesson. I'll kick the whore outta my bed the night before we have church next time.”

  “You? Sober up and keep your dick dry?” He smoothed a tense hand through his hair. “Who the fuck am I talking to? That's not the Rabid I know.”

  “And you're not the same junkie asshole I first met when you transferred down here,” I growled.

  That shut him up. Brass really was a different man now. He'd cleaned up, grown a conscience, and turned his fucked up life around. He'd even reconciled with his sister, Saffron. Amazingly, the fact that she'd married the head of the Prairie Devils MC Montana, Blaze, hadn't even stood in the way.

  He also liked to pretend the times he was pumping shit into his veins never happened.

  “I'm trying to help your ass out, Rabid. You've got your head screwed loose, ever since we rescued that scarred chick from Fang. Let her go. The whole fucking club knows she's not gonna talk. You don't have to keep checking in on her and stroking this...whatever the fuck this thing you have is.”

  “Gotta make sure she's okay. Every time we talk, I can tell something's eating her. Don't think it's related to our old Prez slicing up her face neither.”

  Brass shrugged. “Your time to piss away, brother. She's not into you. Fuck, you ran her name through our intel like a fucking creep and you still didn't turn up anything.”

  Fucker. The Jack was starting to kiss my blood hot, and my fingers hummed like they were filled with shrapnel.

  I'd show him who the fucking creep was...

  Before I got a chance, the meeting room's door swung open. A stern faced Blackjack held it and watched Big Ed limp away, heading for the bar. He kept his distance, and the bartender handed him some ice for the new bruise he undoubtedly had blossoming beneath his bushy beard.

  “Huh. Least we know they didn't kill each other in there,” Brass growled.

  We both followed the asshole with our eyes, and so did several guys hanging further back in the clubhouse. When Ed was done collecting his ice, he grabbed a bottle of Jack, popped it open, and chugged at least a third of the shit right down his gullet.

  Jackoff. That meant he was going to stick around for awhile, oblivious to the fact nobody wanted him here, or else wreck his Harley on the return trip to Klamath.

  Either way, I wasn't gonna wait around for it. I guzzled some water and slammed my glass down, ready to hit the road. Glad I'd only downed a little bit of liquor and wouldn't have to wait to drive.

  Brass reached out and caught me by the shoulder as I was sliding off the stool.

  “You're going to see her again, aren't you?”

  “None of your fucking business, bro. You told me whatever happens isn't club business anymore, so I'm not sure why you care.”

  Brass furrowed his brow. He hated it when I crammed his own words down his throat.

  “You can't keep this shit up forever,” he snapped. “I don't wanna see you go through the wringer because you're so drunk on this pussy you can't even have. If she wants you gone, then go. It's fucking miserable watching you self-destruct over something this stupid, brother.”

  “Christa's not stupid. She needs my help.”

  I practically ripped my cut tearing outta his grasp. Whatever. I wasn't letting Brass or anybody else stop me from a date with destiny. If shit finally went my way, then maybe the sassy redhead would give me a proper date too.

  Fuck, I'd sit through all the wine and movies she could handle for one night with her. Whatever happened after that was anybody's guess. I wasn't gonna force it. I was looking for a good raw fuck I'd never forget, one perfect moment interfacing with her like no man ever had.

  Of course, I wasn't stupid neither. Something told me if I got her panties off and twisted that bright red hair in my hands, I'd never settle for anything less again.

  True love? I didn't fucking believe it. True lust was definitely on the radar, though, a desire hissing in my veins, turning me into a total feral animal 'til I had her.

  On the way out, I was disgusted to see Big Ed. He had his bike parked just outside our open garage. The crazy bastard was strapping himself in for a drunken ride to God only knew where after all.

  Fuck. I didn't have time for this. I got on my Harley and fixed my helmet, letting her familiar growl roll through me.

  “Hey!” I barely pulled out a couple feet when Big Ed yelled, unsure why I was stopping for this asshole. “You're Rabid, aren't you?”

  I nodded, wondering how the sack of shit knew my name. “Why do you care?”

  That nasty laugh came again. “So, you're the guy babying Chrissy. Good to kno
w in case it comes down to fists. One-on-one this time. You're like a hundred pounds lighter. I can handle that.”

  My heart did a flip. What the hell was he talking about? I was about to get off my bike and demand answers, but he moved surprisingly fast once he was on his bike. He took off, tearing down the narrow lot, straight toward the gate a prospect opened for us.

  Shit! I was originally paying Christa a visit to clear the fucked up fog in my head. Now, I had to see her. I had to find out what the hell was going on.

  Brass and everybody else could fuck off with their stand down bullshit. I'd get to the bottom of what was really going on with this chick, and I wasn't leaving her alone 'til I did.

  III: Sweet Pursuit (Christa)

  I was finishing up a tutoring session with Jackie Thomas when I heard the motorcycle's growl.

  “What's Brass doing here?” The fourteen year old blinked at me, relieved to have a distraction from the tough math problem we were wrapping up.

  Who could blame her? The way the schools were teaching this crap required a PhD to figure out.

  “Probably looking for your sis,” I said. Her sister, Missy, was Brass' old lady. I expected her to come by any minute to pick the girl up, but maybe she'd sent her old man to do it instead.

  I rubbed my nose. Ugh. I definitely wasn't in the mood to see anyone else from the MC after Big Ed's recent visit.

  “You know, here's a good place to call it done for today. We can pick up on this stuff next session. The summer classes move slow, don't they?”

  “Yes! God, I keep telling them I know all this. I can figure out the right answers. It's showing my work that's the problem. Just a couple more weeks.” No surprise, smart girls like her reacted the worst to this remedial summer crap, purely because she'd missed a few weeks earlier this year.

  I was the same way.

  “You're getting it!” I smiled. “It's all political, Jackie. They just want you to show your work their way. Welcome to the real world. Unfortunately, we've all got to deal with its crap.”

  The teenager puckered sourly. “Don't I know it, Christa.”

  I dropped my eyes, helping her gather up her things. She wasn't kidding. Both her and the big sister Brass claimed as his girl had been through hell after their father died. When Missy first hired me to tutor the kid, they were keeping their distance from him, and he was the only thing protecting them from the Grizzlies' wrath.

  Something about their dead father's troubles and some money that was owed to the club. Seemed eerily familiar.

  Of course, the club got off their throats as soon as Brass stepped in. He remedied everything, and in the process, Missy had fallen for him. She happily wore her old lady jacket nearly every time I saw her. PROPERTY OF BRASS, branded on the back like she was some kinda pet.

  I shook my head. No way. I wasn't the submissive type. That thing would never be for me, no matter how hot some of the guys were on their wheels.

  I'd tasted the sour side of MC life, and it stuck with me. If there was a sweet side, I wasn't interested in jumping through hoops to find it.

  I wanted to make my money, pay my debt, and move onto bigger and better things. Someday, I told myself. Someday.

  “Hey! It's not Brass.” Jackie was peeking through the blinds. They snapped shut when she pulled her hand away. “That's Rabid.”

  Shit! I got up as calmly as I could, deafened by the alarm bells blaring in my head. Seriously, why couldn't he just leave me alone?

  I'd be okay. I could take care of myself. He bailed me out once, and I was grateful, but I didn't need him looking in on me like a kid.

  “I sure hope your sis shows up soon,” I said. “Come on. Let's wait outside.”

  And let me find out what this asshole wants now, I thought. It never ends, does it?

  Jackie stayed on the porch, sipping passion fruit tea from a glass bottle, giving me some much needed space. Rabid stopped and slowly took off the shades he was wearing to block the evening sun. My hopes he'd be ready to catch hell vanished when the sunglasses came off.

  His dark eyes shined bright, angry, and full of accusations. Damn! I didn't need his shit today – and I definitely didn't need a pissed off biker on my doorstep.

  “What's going on?” I said, praying we'd get this over with quick. “Didn't know it was time for my weekly parole talk with the club.”

  “Not today, babe. Cut the shit,” he growled. “I wanna know what's really going on with you, and I need to know before the sun goes down.”

  “What's that supposed to mean?” The ferocity in his tone surprised me. It also set me on edge. “And why is my life any of your fucking business?”

  “Because this ugly fucker from Oregon who just came by our clubhouse mentioned you by name. We're not on good terms with him and his brothers. If you're in some sorta trouble with a fucked up charter at our throats, that's something I need to know about. Your business is my business, and it's club business too when it gets tangled up together like that.”

  “Oh? So it's not just you trying to play white knight?”

  He bared his teeth. “Of course I care what's going on here. You know I'm not interested in letting the rotten parts of our club hurt you again. I'm here to help, Christa, and maybe you'd figure it out if you'd lay off the venom for a few seconds.”

  I shrugged. “I need to wait for my student to leave before we can talk. Will you at least give me that?”

  He looked at Jackie, and then did a double take. “Shit. Figures every fuckin' thing I do gets back to Brass one way or another...all right! Just get on my bike and we'll make sure she gets home okay.”

  He wasn't asking. Something about the raw, possessive needles in his voice infuriated me as much as it made me curious. He'd always been super polite before, every time except the day we were getting shot at. He was so powerful, so protective when he held me down in the dirt, edging me to safety.

  He would've taken a bullet for me. I guess that counted for something. Just not enough to make me grin and drop to my knees when he stepped into my life uninvited.

  I couldn't be blind to this, to him.

  Rabid was a bastard. No, I couldn't deny he was good at what he did. But the good guy mask he wore other times was just an act. The leather hanging on his shoulders with the growling bear's blood red insignia told me what he really was – an unrelenting bastard as harsh as men like Ed – even if his heart was in a better place.

  Like him or not, there was no saying no today if I wanted to avoid more crap. I took the passenger helmet from him and strapped it on while we sat.

  Missy's car pulled up about a minute later. Jackie came running and hopped into the passenger seat. Couldn't blame the girl for running away from this drama when she had the chance. Just then, I would've killed for some good old fashioned teenage drama instead of being mixed up with this biker.

  I watched Missy emerge from the driver's side and come toward us, fishing through her purse on the way. Her transformation was incredible.

  The plain, shy, scared woman I'd first met was totally gone. She stabbed the heels of her new boots into the ground like she owned it, and her chestnut locks caught the setting sun. She radiated pure confidence, breaking into a wide, amused grin when she reached us.

  “Here's the cash!” Missy winked, pushing several crisp twenties into my hands. Great. Food money for the next week.

  “Thanks.”

  “Since when are you going for rides with Rabid?” Her eyes flitted to the stone faced biker, who grunted a response, all he could do to hide the fact that he wasn't just asking me out for a joy ride. “We need to catch up one day soon, girl! It's good to see you expanding your circle beyond my little sis.”

  “Something like that,” I said. “I've always wanted to ride. I thought Rabid would be the perfect man to show me how.”

  His shoulder jerked when I laid my hand on it. His eyes caught mine through the mirror, and I smiled when I saw his eyebrows were up. Guess he never expected me to be a goo
d girl and play along.

  Whatever. It was kinda fun to screw with him. Least I could do to get back a little of the frustration he gave me.

  “I'd appreciate it if you keep this mum between the three of us,” Rabid said to her. “Brass is really cracking the fucking whip lately. Every minute I'm spending outside the clubhouse isn't a good one.”

  Missy laughed and stuck her tongue out. “Tell me about it! I'm about to head home for another evening trying to calm his ass down. He's so wound up anymore. I'm glad you're getting out and enjoying yourself, Rabid. Both of you. Your secret's safe with me.”

  She smiled and pushed an imaginary zipper across her lips. I nodded, mouthed a thanks. Incredibly, I'd be spared the embarrassment.

  It was amazing to think the tension between us was truly invisible to everybody else. Right now, it felt like we were sharing the same noose, ready to swing tight around our throats and suffocate us.

  “Use some of that to buy yourself something fun,” Missy said, pointing to the wad in my hands.

  “I'm sure I'll find something.” I tucked the bills into my pocket. “Don't let Jackie waste too many of these summer evenings on her math. We're only young once. She's a smart girl, and it's all coming to her bit by bit. She'll have the rest figured out in no time.”

  Missy rolled her eyes. “I'm pretty sure your lessons are the only thing she's studying at all. It's hard to keep her in most nights. You know how teen girls are. Stir crazy. I'm kinda glad Brass isn't allowing any boys in, though!”

  I plastered on another big fake smile as Rabid revved the engine. “We're all just looking for some fun. I'll see you both next week!”

  No more waiting around. The bike jerked forward, shooting along the asphalt, ready to take us wherever the hell he wanted for this talk.

  I had to keep my hands on him the entire time. Not knowing what he was really feeling was the hard part. His other courtesy visits were so much easier to brush off than this, and I could read him like a clock.

  Now, I barely recognized the demon gripping the handlebars and taking us outside Redding's city limits, sending us north while the sun slipped below the horizon. He was so warm, so hard, so omnipotent guiding this rocket on wheels into the country darkness.