Addicted (Outlaws Book 2) (6 page)

The wind chimes over the door gave another melodic ring as Beckett and Travis strode inside. Jamie waved at them, then hopped off the stool to join the two men in a red vinyl booth by the window. Lennox slid in beside her, stretching one arm along the back of the booth, his fingertips lightly grazing her shoulder.

“Hey, Bethy! Burgers!” Beckett held up two fingers toward the counter, gesturing from him to Travis.

“Ever heard of the word
please
?” was Bethany’s dry retort.

“Only in bed,” he called back. “It’s always
please, Beck, fuck me harder. Please, Beck, gimme your cock.
” He feigned a confused look. “Why? Does it have meaning in another context?”

Bethany grinned at him. “I’m spitting in your food, sweetie. Just keep that in mind when you’re eating, ’kay?”

Beckett turned back to the group. “She won’t spit in my food. She loves me too much.”

Jamie laughed, but made a mental note not to take a bite out of anything on Beckett’s plate. The man might have women panting over him, but Bethany wasn’t someone you should ever underestimate.

Muffled gunfire sounded from the town square, causing Travis’s green eyes to shift toward the large front window. “You guys catch any of the target practice?” he asked.

Lennox nodded. “The kids are eager to learn.”

“They don’t see a lot of excitement here,” Travis admitted. “Reese doesn’t let them go on supply runs. At least not yet.”

“I don’t blame her. It’s dangerous outside these gates.” Lennox absently ran his hand over Jamie’s shoulder as he spoke, sending a peculiar shiver along her flesh.

She snuck a peek at his fingers. Long and callused, masculine but graceful. Her gaze slid to his wrist and forearm, resting on the swirls of ink tattooed on his golden skin. The black, red, and orangey designs extended all the way up to his solid biceps. Random pieces he’d accumulated over the years, when they’d been lucky enough to find a tattoo artist during their travels.

His other arm was also inked, but not a full sleeve. Just intricate lines and curves on his forearm, with streams of text hidden within the design. Jamie focused on one line in particular, the unmistakable capital letter inked in gorgeous calligraphy.

J
.

He had her initial tattooed on his body. And she had his: an L on her right calf, surrounded by tiny flowers and twisty vines.

Nobody had ever picked up on that. Not Piper or Layla. Not Nell, the good friend they’d lost during the attack on their house. But Jamie had never thought anything romantic of the gestures. She and Lennox were best friends. There was nothing wrong with marking that friendship on their skin.

Right now, however, he didn’t feel like a friend. He felt like a brooding, sexed-up man who’d essentially ravaged her with his eyes earlier.

She had no idea how to respond to that.

“… drinking restrictions too,” Beckett was saying.

Her head snapped up. “Wait – repeat that? Are you seriously saying Reese limits how much those teenagers are allowed to drink?”

“Yep.” He grinned. “She’s a cruel mistress, our Reese. But hell, I can’t argue with that. Alcohol and teenagers don’t mix well.”

“Drunk kids do stupid things,” Travis agreed.

Jamie poked Lennox in the side and said, “Drunk adults do stupid things too.”

“Bullshit,” he retorted. “I can handle my alcohol.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” She glanced at the two men across from them. “Ten.”

Beckett’s lips twitched. “Ten what?”

“That’s how many shots Len can handle before he turns into a slurring, bumbling mess.”

That got her another protest from Lennox. “Bullshit!”

Travis looked intrigued. “And how’d you come to this conclusion, sweetheart?”

“Years and years of research,” Jamie answered. “First time I noticed it, we were – what, sixteen, Len?”

He grumbled.

“Mr. Cocky over here challenged me to a drinking contest one night, so we stole a bottle of rum from his dad’s tent.” Jamie stopped, laughing. “Scratch that – 
I
stole a bottle of rum from his dad’s tent, because Len was too much of a pussy to do it —”

“We flipped a coin,” he cut in, his eyes dark with irritation.

She ignored him. “So we took the bottle and snuck down to the beach. We were living on the coast at that time.”

“She matched me shot for shot,” Lennox admitted, albeit grudgingly.

“And when we got to ten shots, Dumb-ass over here tried to fight a tree.”

Beckett and Travis howled with laughter.

Lennox pinched her shoulder, then gave it a little smack. “There was a goddamn animal in that tree. I told you, I
saw
it.”

“Oh, sweetie,” was all Jamie said. Then she rolled her eyes and addressed the other men. “After that, I kept count whenever he drank, and it was the same every time – ten drinks and Len does something crazy.”

Beckett’s demeanor sobered as he looked from her to Lennox. “Must be nice.”

She wrinkled her brow. “What’s nice?”

“Having history with someone.” There was a profoundly sad chord in his tone. “My folks died when I was eight. I was alone in the colony after that.”

Jamie hadn’t known, and her heart squeezed at the pain she saw in Beckett’s eyes. “I’m sorry, babe.”

“It’s all good. I survived.” He shrugged.

“Our parents died too,” Lennox said gruffly, his silvery gaze finding Jamie’s.

“How?” Beckett asked.

She swallowed as the memories surfaced. “Both our moms died of pneumonia. Lennox’s dad too. It wiped out most of our camp, actually. Started off as a cold, eventually turned into chest infections, then pneumonia. We had no meds, no antibiotics, and no way of getting our hands on them. All the Enforcer storage stations in the area had been looted clean.”

Lennox’s warm hand squeezed her shoulder. “Jamie’s dad survived. So did a few others, but about a year after that, we were ambushed by bandits.”

“They shot my father,” she said flatly.

A pall fell over the booth, and not even the arrival of their lunch could ease the tightness in Jamie’s chest. She missed her parents. She knew Lennox missed his too.

God, why was this world so fucked up?

She felt Lennox soften beside her. Then he brushed a reassuring kiss on her cheek, and with that one moment of tender contact, the tension that had plagued them before faded away like a wisp of smoke. They were good again. She still wasn’t sure why they’d ever been
bad
, but she wasn’t about to question the abrupt shift. She just leaned in closer and borrowed strength from the strongest man she’d ever known.

The first day of training wrapped up at sundown. Might be too soon to tell, but Rylan had noted some real progress among the trainees, especially the teenagers. They’d been eager to learn and, oddly enough, treated their weapons with far more respect than many of the older folks.

The kids handled the guns with a level of seriousness that Rylan appreciated, as if they had true awareness for the power they held in their hands and the gravity of that responsibility.

The adults had taken that responsibility for granted, wasting ammunition even when it was clear they weren’t prepared to hit the target.

Rylan found the discrepancy between the age groups pretty fucking interesting.

“You got this?” he asked Pike, who was in the process of closing up the gun crate.

Pike nodded in response.

“Thanks, brother. See you in the morning.”

He left Pike in the dark lot and headed for the sidewalk. Large stone planters lined the cobblestones, and while they might have been overflowing with flowers at one point in time, the planters now served as cisterns to collect rainwater. Rylan paused in front of one and dipped his hands in the cool water.

He splashed his face, then brought his cupped hands to his bare chest and let the water pour over his sweaty flesh. It had been a long day. His ears were still ringing from the continuous bursts of gunfire, and calluses had formed on his fingers from holding a gun for so long.

“Well?”

He turned at the sound of Reese’s voice. She approached him in lazy strides, but that laziness was belied by the sharp gleam in her brown eyes.

“Well what?” he asked easily.

“Think any of my people have potential?”

“Everyone has potential when it comes to guns.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s not too difficult to master the concept of point and shoot.”

His mocking tone made her shoulders go rigid. Her
bare
shoulders, because she was wearing a tiny half top that revealed a helluva lot of cleavage and her flat midriff. Tight, dark blue jeans rode low on her hips, and Rylan fought the urge to slide a hand under her waistband and cup her pussy. Stroke it. Then tug the jeans right off, sink to his knees, and shove his tongue inside her.

It took some effort to will away an erection. Reese would probably cut his balls off if she knew where his thoughts had drifted. So would Sloan, who was lurking ten feet away and watching them with a frown.

Rylan had promised Connor he’d work his magic on Reese, but if he was being honest, he had no fucking idea how to do it. The woman went out of her way to avoid him, and when they
did
interact, her bodyguard was always around.

“I need you to take this seriously,” Reese said coldly. “My people have to learn how to defend themselves.”

“Don’t worry. They’ll learn. But if you want me to speculate about their potential, then it’s the hand-to-hand combat that’ll be the true test.”

She nodded.

Keeping his eyes on her, he grabbed the discarded T-shirt he’d tucked into his waistband and used it to mop up his wet chest. Reese’s gaze followed the movement of his hand, resting on his pecs before raking over his abs. Her expression lacked the normal flash of lust that most women conveyed when his bare chest was on display.

This woman was so goddamn infuriating. Rylan had wanted her from day one, but all he’d ever gotten from her was dismissal. Disgust. Scorn.

And yet he continued to offer himself up to her like some kind of sexual sacrifice. Continued to face the brunt of her sharp tongue and cold rejections. Maybe it was the challenge of wanting someone he couldn’t have. Craving someone who was so damn untouchable turned him into a determined motherfucker.

“You nailing him?”

When she frowned, Rylan cocked his head toward the ever-silent Sloan.

Reese smirked. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“You were with Lennox last night.”

The smirk widened. “Was I?”

“You were.” He slipped the shirt over his head, smoothing the fabric down his chest. “I bet he fucked you and Tam good.”

Reese looked intrigued as he took a step toward her. “Where are you going with this, honey?”

“Just wondering when it’ll be my turn.” He took another step. She was a tall woman, but tiny compared to him. He always forgot how much shorter she was until he was standing this close to her. Looming over her.

She didn’t seem fazed by the disparity in their sizes. She simply tilted her head to meet his eyes and pressed one hand to the center of his chest. “You want a turn, huh?”

The heat of her palm seared through his shirt and sped up his heartbeat. “You know I do, gorgeous.”

Her lips curved ever so slightly. “And then what?”

Rylan blinked.

“What happens afterward?” she prompted, her delicate fingers stroking a slow circle around his left pec. “Let’s play this out. We get naked. You shove that big cock of yours inside me.”

Her fingertips brushed his nipple. When she pressed down hard, a jolt of lust shot through him.

“You fuck me as hard as I know you can. We come.” Her fingers traveled to his other pec, rubbing his other nipple, which hardened beneath her touch. “Maybe we fuck again.” She pinched the tight bud, and a groan left his lips. “We come again. And then what?”

It was damn near impossible to concentrate when she was toying with his chest, when her warm fingers were sliding up to his neck to stroke the taut tendons there.

“Then what?” she repeated sharply.

He snapped out of his lust-drenched stupor. “I… don’t know.”

Reese offered a knowing smile. “Yes, you do. Or rather, you know what you’re hoping for. That after I open my legs to you, I’ll open my mouth. I’ll tell you all my secrets, and then you can go running back to Connor so he can say ‘good job’ and pat you on the back.”

Rylan’s jaw tensed.

Her laughter just pissed him off further. “We both know that’s your agenda.”

“I’ve had the same agenda since the moment I met you.” He smirked. “Me, you, naked.”

“Yes, but this time your end goal is more than just a couple of orgasms.” She dropped her hand to her side and stepped back. “And for the sake of argument – even if you weren’t acting as Con’s spy? I still wouldn’t spread my legs for you. You’re trouble, Rylan.”

He regained his composure, flashing a wicked smile. “Trouble’s fun.”

“Trouble gets you killed.”

Before he could blink, her hand snapped out and covered his groin.

“When I’m around, honey? This stays in your pants. I don’t want it.” She gave him a teasing squeeze and he almost came in her hand. “I don’t need it.”

“Reese —”

“Keep me updated on my people’s progress,” she cut in, her voice a cheerful chirp. “I expect daily reports,
gorgeous
.”

She squeezed his cock hard enough to make him moan, then released him so abruptly that his dick wept from the loss.

With a soft laugh, she sauntered off in Sloan’s direction, leaving Rylan cursing after her in frustration.

“Don’t block with your dominant hand. You want to be ready with that right cross even as you’re deflecting my attack,” Lennox explained to the teenage boy he was sparring with.

After four days of training, Rylan and Pike had decided to split the morning crowd into two groups: one was honing target shooting skills with Rylan, the other learning basic fighting moves under Pike’s tutelage. Lennox had been recruited to help out. He’d been paired with Randy, a sixteen-year-old who hadn’t known not to tuck his thumb into his fist until Lennox showed him the harmful error of his ways.

“But you came at me from the right,” Randy protested. “My first instinct is to use my right hand to block.”

“Then you need to develop some new instincts.” Lennox grinned and came at him with his fist again.

This time Randy used his left forearm to block, but he wasn’t fast enough. Lennox’s fist connected with the kid’s solar plexus, sending him sprawling ass-first on the pavement.

“Can’t we do this on the grass?” Randy complained. He rubbed his ass as he awkwardly rose to his feet. “The field behind the high school would give me a nice, soft place to land every time you lay me down.”

Lennox snickered. “Helpful tip: If you find yourself surrounded by bandits or Enforcers, chances are, it won’t be in a fluffy meadow. It’ll be on a supply run or on the road. So get used to cracking your head against the pavement, kid.”

Grunts, heavy breathing, and the sounds of fists slamming into flesh echoed all around them. Pike and Beckett were working with their own teenage novices; the others had been paired off to practice the blocking techniques Pike and Lennox had demonstrated at the start of the lesson. Jamie had joined the fold too, sparring with Kade about fifty yards away. She was laughing her sexy ass off as she managed to sweep Kade’s legs out from under him for the tenth time in a row.

Connor was right – Kade definitely needed work if a tiny thing like Jamie could get the best of him.

Randy followed Lennox’s gaze, then snorted. “I guess I don’t feel so bad anymore,” the teenager remarked. “That guy can’t block for shit either.”

“Kade’s a city boy. Still has a lot to learn.”

“What’d he do in the city?”

“I’m not sure. Never asked him, if I’m being honest. But I assume he was assigned a job like all the other citizens.” Though Lennox wasn’t sure what kind of job Kade would’ve been suited for. The guy didn’t have Xander’s technological prowess, so the tech sector was out. Didn’t seem to have any farming or trade skills, so that was out too. A teacher, maybe? Something in administration?

“He’s lucky Connor Mackenzie took him in. Citizens are weak. They can’t survive out here on their own.”

The observation summoned a wry smile. Spoken by a kid who didn’t know the difference between an uppercut and a jab.

“Come on, let’s take a water break,” Lennox suggested.

They grabbed two water bottles from the large cooler near the curb. One of Lennox’s favorite things about Foxworth? Ice-cold water. Along with protection and immunity, Reese’s hush-hush deals with West City’s officials also involved unrestricted electricity from the city’s power grid. The Enforcers who visited Foxworth required certain comforts, after all, which meant the food and water in town was refrigerated.

As Lennox welcomed the icy stream that slid down his throat, Randy spoke up again. “Hey, I’ve always wondered – why does Connor go by his full name? Whenever someone talks about him, they say Connor Mackenzie.”

“Not so much anymore, actually. But there used to be another Connor in the area, so the last name made it easier to figure out which Connor you were referring to.” Lennox remembered the other Connor being a scary mountain man, but the guy had left the area a couple of years ago.

“I don’t know my last name,” Randy admitted.

“Not everyone does.” Lennox only knew his because his parents were born before the war, during a time when surnames still mattered.

Anyone born postwar didn’t have much use for surnames. And while the citizens of West City were given ID badges, most outlaws didn’t have proper identification. Some possessed birth records, but those were usually just papers handwritten by their parents, listing the child’s name and date of birth.

“Do you know yours?” Randy asked curiously.

Lennox nodded. “Murphy. My dad said it’s an Irish name.”

The kid donned a blank look. “Irish?”

“Yeah. Meaning it originated in Ireland.”

The explanation didn’t bring comprehension. Randy simply looked more confused, causing Lennox to narrow his eyes. “You don’t know geography? How the world used to be before the Colonies were formed?”

Randy shook his head.

“You serious? Reese doesn’t teach you guys that shit?” It surprised him, especially since there was a still-standing library about three miles from Foxworth, full of prewar texts that the younger residents could benefit from.

“Reese says the past doesn’t matter,” Randy explained. “The other adults think so too. They always tell us they’re preparing us for the future.”

Lennox supposed he understood that. Truthfully there wasn’t much to be gained from dwelling on the past. Knowledge, yes, but history and geography didn’t exactly aid in one’s survival. His and Jamie’s parents had thought it was important, though. At their old camp, all the kids had attended daily classes, where they learned not just the skills that were advantageous to outlaw life, but topics that helped them understand the world that existed before them.

“Hit me like you mean it, baby…”

Lennox turned his head toward Jamie’s mocking voice. He stifled a laugh when he glimpsed Kade’s frazzled expression. The former city boy wound his arm back and lunged for Jamie, but she was too spry for him. She feigned left, then jabbed her elbow in the center of his throat before dancing away.

“I fucking hate you,” Kade grumbled.

“No, you don’t. You love me. Everyone does.” Raising her hands in surrender, she marched up to him and planted a kiss on his cheek. “All right, I’m taking a break now. It’s been a pleasure kicking your ass.”

She sauntered off, leaving a gale of melodic laughter in her wake.

Randy’s eyes glazed over as he unabashedly ogled Jamie’s tight ass, which swayed seductively beneath her black leggings. “Think she’d be into me?” the kid asked.

Lennox could barely contain his laughter. “How old are you again?”

“Sixteen.”

“Yeah… that might be too young for Jamie’s blood. She likes men with a little more experience in the saddle.”

Randy hesitated. “Is she your woman? The two of you showed up here together last time too.”

“More like a sister,” he said vaguely. “We’ve known each other forever.”

“But you’ve, uh, had sex, right?”

“Nope.” Though God knew he’d had sex with her in his mind a thousand times already.

But that needed to end, damn it. His dirty imagination had gotten him in trouble the other day, when he forcibly had to stop himself from mauling her in the town square. The memory of Jamie’s naked body sandwiched between Beckett and Travis had triggered a bout of lust he hadn’t been able to control. Jamie had seen it, and it had scared her. Even worse, it had put a strain on their friendship, making shit awkward between them.

He hadn’t liked that. At all.

Kade drifted over, mopping his sweaty face with the bottom of his shirt. He must have heard the tail end of their conversation, because he grumbled, “Your
sister
just gave me a beat-down. Who taught her to fight like that?”

“You’re looking at him.”

“Yeah?” Kade’s head tipped to the side. “Then chug the rest of your water and teach me some shit, because there’s no way I’m letting that teeny blond demon win another fight.”

Randy started to laugh, but the sound died midchortle, replaced by a choked noise.

Lennox followed the teenager’s gaze to see what had clammed him up. A petite girl with a long brown ponytail stood next to Pike, listening attentively to whatever instruction he was giving her. It was the same girl who’d been dominating the target practice, Lennox realized.

“She’s cute.” He offered a pointed look. “And age-appropriate.”

Randy’s cheeks took on a reddish hue. “Uh, yeah… she’s all right.”

Lennox and Kade exchanged amused glances.

“What’s her name?” Kade asked.

“Sara.” The flush deepened. “She and her dad moved here a few months ago. Sloan ran into them on the road and brought them back.” Randy awkwardly tilted his head to the left. “That’s her dad over there.”

Shit. Sara’s father was one big motherfucker. At least six-five, with a shaved head and hawklike brown eyes that monitored his daughter’s every movement.

“He’s kinda overprotective of her,” Randy mumbled.

Kinda
seemed like a grave understatement. But at least it made sense now why Randy was ready to shit his pants every time he looked at Sara.

Lennox sighed. “You want to spend time with her, huh? But you’re afraid of her father.”

“Wouldn’t
you
be? He’s a giant. And he never lets her out of his sight.”

Lennox thought it over. “You want my advice? Forget him.”

The kid gaped at him. “Um… yeah, right.”

“I’m serious. If you want to get to know her, get to know her. Scary Dad over there ain’t gonna kill you just for talking to her.”

“He might.”

“Nah.” Kade grinned and backed up Lennox. “Just make sure to keep your pants zipped around her, and you’ll be fine.”

Lennox shrugged. “Besides, if he does kick your ass, who cares? Bruises fade. Broken bones heal. Life’s too short, kid. If you really like this chick, then you’ve gotta make a move. You might never get the opportunity again.”

Randy went quiet, mulling over the advice. Then he set his jaw in determination and raised his hand in the air. “Nice hit, Sara!” he called out.

She whirled around, her ponytail a brown blur. The girl she’d just knocked on her ass was clambering to her feet, but Sara’s surprised gaze was focused on Randy. “Oh. Um. Thanks,” she called back.

Lennox pressed his lips together to smother his amusement. Kade seemed to be doing the same. Sara’s dad, on the other hand, didn’t look at all pleased by the exchange. The man glowered at Randy, who simply waved politely.

“You’ve got balls, kid,” Kade murmured.

“Big brass balls,” Lennox agreed. He smacked Randy on the shoulder, unable to fight the pride in his chest. “Okay, time to get back to work. You can cheer me on while I kick Kade’s ass.”

As they walked back to the fighting area, Kade’s low, knowing voice met Lennox’s ears. “You should take your own advice.”

Randy kept walking, but Lennox stopped, warily turning toward the other man. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I’m not as oblivious as everyone thinks.” Kade offered a wry smile. “You want her, Len.”

He decided to play dumb. “Who?”

“You know who.” Kade went quiet for a beat. “I’m not sure what’s holding you back, but whatever it is, I doubt it’s as bad as you think, man. Life’s too short, remember?”

Lennox gritted his teeth as the other man threw his own words back at him, but for the first time in his life, he didn’t have a sarcastic retort or a careless remark to toss back.

“A bunch of pussies, that’s what they are,” Rylan announced, his irritated voice echoing in the cavernous loft that Beckett and Travis shared.

Lennox had to grin at the disgust twisting the other man’s handsome features. It was rare to see Rylan drop his careless facade, but clearly the day’s training had gotten to him. Lennox didn’t blame him – there
had
been a shit ton of complaints floating through Foxworth these past four days.

Rylan turned the bone-handle knife in his hand a few times as he studied the wooden beam ten feet away. “One kid said he had a sore
finger
from pulling the trigger so many times. Can you fucking believe that?”

With a look of sheer disbelief, he gripped the handle so his thumb was pressed to its side, pulled his arm back, and lunged forward to hurl the knife.

The blade hit the beam with a
ping
but didn’t connect with the wood, instead clattering to the weathered hardwood floor.

“Miss!” Beckett crowed. “You’re up, Len.”

Lennox studied his target, a wooden post that extended from floor to ceiling and was about a foot wide. The loft had an open-concept setup, with brick walls, exposed beams, and rusted piping. Beck and Travis’s sleeping quarters were on one side of the room, while the other end featured couches, a bar area, and plenty of space for the night’s activity – knife throwing.

It was a small crowd tonight, not a party by any means, unless you counted the private party currently happening on a nearby couch. The two half-naked women tangled together there were drawing more than a few lustful glances from the knife-wielding men.

Lennox took a step back. Then another, this one at a forty-five-degree angle to his right. A second later, he wound his arm back and released the blade of the hunting knife when it was vertical to his target. The blade sliced into the wood as if the post were made of soft butter.

“Hit!” Beck exclaimed. He passed over the whiskey bottle so Lennox could take a swig.

Shit, he really wished he wasn’t so good at this game. The rules were rather ridiculous – instead of taking a shot each time he missed, the thrower drank when he hit his mark. Lennox wasn’t sure who came up with that, but it definitely wasn’t to his advantage. He was very, very good with a knife. Which meant he was going to get very, very drunk tonight.

Behind him, Rylan was still griping about the gripers. “And that guy that helps Graham in the kitchen? He said he’s sitting out tomorrow because squinting at the targets hurts his
eyes
. What the hell is wrong with these people? I’ve never met a more pathetic, sheltered crowd.”

Pike took his turn, then tipped the bottle to his lips after his knife hit its mark. “There are some pretty decent fighters in the afternoon group,” he relented. “That chick Sam got me under her today.”

Rylan hooted. “Bullshit. You
let
her do that because you wanted her under you. You’re gonna be balls deep in that one tonight, brother.”