Heart Ties (Club Ties Book 2) (25 page)

He threw a look at the place where Ace had hidden Delta, but he couldn’t see her. From her location, she wouldn’t have had her eardrums blown out, but Ace apparently had. He had a hand clapped to his ear as he leaned against the side of the bar.

Drake’s cell buzzed, and he fished it out of his cut. “Yeah?”

“Your crazy fucking woman just shoved a girl at me and told me to keep her safe.”

“What?” Heart thudding, he started toward Delta’s hiding place. If she hadn’t stayed put—

Paxton’s voice filled his ear, and he covered his other to drown out the noise around him. “She was trying to hotwire Ace’s bike, and I caught her. She shoved a woman at me and told me to get her out of there.”

He took off running. “Who the fuck’s the girl?”

“Dunno. I’m taking her to the club, but your crazy fucking woman is still out there. Who knows what shit she’s gotten herself into.”

“Sonofabitch.” He skidded to a stop in front of the concrete enclosure. For a blink, he didn’t register what he was seeing.

Four eyes blinking at him. Delta and Copilot. He reached in and pulled her up and out and into his arms. The dog
ruffed
at him, but he ignored him as he stared into Delta’s beautiful face.

“What the hell’s going on?”

She sank her teeth into her plump lower lip, and he couldn’t stop himself. He leaned forward and tasted her. Locking her to him, he ravaged her mouth with an ownership he didn’t want to contemplate. He was angry with her, and dammit, he was going to show her who was boss.

Right after he finished kissing her.

His cock bulged between their bodies. Sirens deafened, and still he couldn’t let her go.

Only when Copilot pawed at Drake’s leg did he come to his senses.

He clamped his hands around her upper arms and glared at her. “You’re telling me everything. First I’ve got shit to take care of.” He jerked his head toward the flames and smoke billowing into the air.

Her eyes darted.

“What are you looking for?”

“A silver car. Vasily’s driving.”

“Jesus, him?” His mind blanked, and everything came into focus. Delta was a witness that the Russian was in the area. They could pawn this whole crime off on the man they needed to bring down anyway.

He towed Delta across the parking lot to the crush of rescue personnel, feds, and local police. Chief Rhodes was talking to someone who was gesturing with her hands, and Drake pulled him away.

“We’ve got a witness to the crime.”

Rhodes’ gaze fell over Delta, and she shrank against Drake. He squeezed her waist in reassurance that he’d keep her safe. “Tell him what you saw.”

She did, but if there was a woman who’d needed rescuing, she didn’t tell the chief. When she was finished, Ace approached. “I’ll take her. They need to talk to you.” He twitched his jaw toward the knot of feds.

“Thanks, but she stays with me. I can’t trust her.” He threw Delta a look, and she gave him that wide-eyed innocent act. He bit off a laugh.

The next hour was spent talking to feds, police, and brothers. Ace had his burst eardrum attended by a medic. Copilot went to his master and gave him a sloppy lick on the cheek before returning to Delta’s side.

She deserved a damn patch for what she’d done in the past two days. If women could be patched in, that was.

Even as he thought this, he knew what happened to a good woman who supported the club. She became some club member’s old lady.

By the time he had her on the back of his bike again, he’d made up his mind.

He had to give her up to a good man.

•●•

When Delta entered the MC, a cheer went up.

“Well, if it ain’t Bonnie and Clyde,” Harris drawled.

Drake ignored his brothers and bee-lined to the bar. He grabbed a bottle of Scotch and downed a third in one long swallow.

As she watched the man throw up a middle finger to sobriety, panic seized Delta.

Drake slugged back another alarming amount of Scotch and stared at her from across the room, eyes dead. She didn’t have time to think about why he was drinking again because her sister threw herself into her arms.

“Harris is right—you’re like Bonnie and Clyde, shooting, robbing, and running. You’ve had me scared to death!”

Delta wrapped her arms around Ever and almost lost it. Tears prickled her eyes.

“Come on, let me get you some food and something to drink. We’ve got a big charity fundraiser starting this afternoon. Damn, I don’t know how I’ll get it all done with half the guys tied up at the police station.”

Startled, Delta looked around. “For questioning?”

“Yes.” Ever’s blue eyes leveled on hers. “I’m sure before the end of the day, you’ll be down there too, answering questions about her.” She gestured to Belle, who stood a few feet away, looking at her feet.

Delta hooked a hand under Belle’s elbow and led her into the kitchen. “This is Belle. Belle, this is my sister.”

Ever scooped meatballs from a huge cooker onto two buns and settled Delta and Belle at the table. Copilot took his place at her feet. Without a hint of appetite, Delta began to feed the dog bites from her hand.

“Belle will need a bed and some clothes. Can we help her?” Delta asked. Who was she kidding? She had no way of helping anyone. She didn’t have any rights to anything but the few pieces of clothing Drake had bought her.

A knot burned in her throat as she thought of Drake. What was he doing to himself and why?

“Of course. Belle is safe here.”

Belle nodded and gave a quiet thanks. She slowly began to eat while Ever bustled around the kitchen, making last preparations for the fundraiser.

In the main room, Yo Momma jokes volleyed back and forth, and Rocket had turned on Led Zeppelin. Delta couldn’t help but feel she was coming home, though she’d spent little time here. If they allowed her to stay, she’d go with her plan of building a life with Ever. Maybe the Sons had some job for her to do to earn her keep.

But seeing Drake daily would kill her.

She bowed her head over her food and let her tears fall.

Ever sucked in a noise of alarm and hurried to Delta. “What is it?”

Jamison entered, disgust etched on his features. “That goddamn idiot man is on his second bottle of Scotch already. We’re going to have to get his stomach pumped.” His gaze settled on Delta and he ran a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, honey. What happened out there between you?”

Fighting noisy hiccups, she shook her head. “I don’t know. He won’t open up to me. I only know he was pissed because I hadn’t stayed where I was supposed to.”

“You saved me,” Belle spoke up.

The confusion of the events jumbled with the pain in her heart, and she cried harder. Ever’s arm came around her. “C’mon, sis.” She got Delta up, and with Copilot at their heels, led her through the main room.

Looking up, she met Drake’s gaze full-on. The alcohol was already affecting him, turning him into something uglier and frightening. He clutched the neck of the bottle, eyes bloodshot and mouth grim.

Some inner magnetism locked them together in a private world where bikers and bombs didn’t exist.

Ever pulled Delta more insistently, and she peeled her attention from Drake and followed her sister into a guest room. As Ever closed the door, Delta said, “I’m not sharing a room with Drake.”

“O-kay,” Ever said slowly. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” As soon as the word was out, she realized it as truth. Nothing was going on between them. Only sex and animal attraction. Circumstances. Geography, she’d told him. If she’d gotten onto Harris’s bike or Paxton’s, she might be in their arms.

Neither of them would treat her as Drake was. Believing for a short time that she might mean something to Drake was almost worse than knowing she meant nothing to Houlihan.

Firming her mouth against more tears, she wiped her eyes. “Nothing is going on between us and nothing will.”

Her sister sank to the bed and patted the space beside her. Delta folded her arms and refused to sit. If she was coddled just a little bit, she’d break down all over again.

“I’m going to shower and get cleaned up. Then I’m going to help you with whatever you need to make this fundraiser a success. Okay?”

A new respect shone in Ever’s eyes. She stood. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Come find me when you’re finished.”

As Delta moved through the ritual of showering, dressing, and applying makeup, she fought thoughts of Drake. By now he was probably drunk off his ass, or getting his stomach pumped, as Jamison had suggested.

With her armor in place, Delta went into the kitchen, turning a blind eye to the tattooed god in the corner of the main room, slumped with a bottle in hand, even as each tiny hair on her body rose in awareness.

She’d spent too much time letting men control her. She wouldn’t give Drake the pleasure of taking over her thoughts and body reactions.

Need rampaged through her, though. The adrenaline rushes of the past days had shoved them together, and they’d taken rough pleasure in each other. After the bombing and her help in Belle’s escape, she felt the loss of Drake’s touch.

She worked alongside Ever and they kept Belle busy running items out to the tents set up in the parking lot. The MC gates had been thrown open wide, and people were milling around. Normal people who put trust in the MC to help keep their town safe as much as they relied on the police force.

Ever had organized food stations and games for little ones. Baskets of donated items to raffle off, and simple games of horseshoes and cornhole. The everyday scenes painted a picture, but Delta could only think of the things she’d just done with Drake.

Raiders were after her. Now Russians. Strother too, as he wouldn’t just walk away knowing Drake knew the truth. Yet as she carried platters of seasoned hamburgers to the grill that Ace manned, she didn’t worry for her safety.

Until Drake stumbled out.

She battled the urge to slap his gorgeous face to sober him. Glancing up, she found him staring, unmoving. That invisible string tethering them stretched.

She twisted away, and it snapped.

“Let me help you.” Turner was there, having followed them on their mission at Tomfoolery. His smile flashed white in his tanned face, and he reached for the platter she carried.

When she glanced over her shoulder again, Drake was gone. Probably off to find more booze.

Loud music and happy voices reached through the walls of the MC and snagged the edges of the scab covering Drake’s heart. Delta was out there in the midst, so at home. She belonged here.

That made him happy. It was the thought of her being with that pretty boy Turner that burned him.

Who would ever want a drunk like him anyway? Drake wrapped his lips around the bottle.

He’d had so much Scotch he could barely stand, but goddammit if his mind wasn’t still in operating order. He’d even failed at shutting off his brain. Delta had slipped in and taken up residence in his system. He couldn’t break free of her voice, her wide-eyed looks, her fucking soft touches.

He had to.

He circled the bar, expecting to find Copilot, but no, he was attached to Delta too. The dog would be out there with her. Drake bounced a fist off the hidden wall compartment. The springs flexed and opened, revealing small shelves of prescription drugs.

The club only kept antibiotics and sleeping pills on hand. No junkies allowed in the Hell’s Sons. Oh no.

He lowered the bottle of Scotch, considering the irony. No junkies, but they allowed a bomb specialist killer who drank too much into their midst.

Laughing female voices washed over him, and he rubbed his jaw. Delta deserved a good man, and she’d find someone to treat her like a princess in no time.

What had
he
done for her? Bought her boots and thrown them over his shoulders while pounding deep into her tight body. Dragged her into trouble. Put her in the reach of dangerous Russians and placed a gun in her hand.

The sleeping pills forgotten, he stumbled out to collapse on a leather couch.

When he awakened, his mind had hit a new low. The situation crashed over him. He couldn’t keep Delta, but he fucking wanted her.
Bad.