Lock and Key (36 page)

“Grace, how are you holding up?” I asked.

“It is what it is,” came the unexpected reply in that almost unrecognizable, flat voice.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what that meant. The thought of Grace in the middle of a club brewing its own poison led by a dick off his rocker who thinks he’s got her in the bag was making me come unhinged.

“When are you coming home?” I said through my clamped jaw. My eyes scanned the clothing section for any movement through my lookout gap. Those teenage girls were onto another rack comparing handbags and yacking on their cell phones. A saleswoman opened the sunglass case and took out several for a waiting customer. Two older pot-bellied bikers and their Old Ladies checked out the stand with the rain gear. Grace blinked up at me. Her hands twisted the t-shirts on their tiny hangers.

“Tomorrow. I called Boner to come pick me up.”

“Look, I’m here, I can come.”

“No, not you,” she said and averted her gaze once again.

She might as well have ripped a knife through my gut.

Grace always seemed to drink in my eyes, like she was absorbing some sort of secret from them that only she understood. Our gazes always lingered, but now she avoided my eyes as if she didn’t need to look at me, as if it was a chore to be with me. Like she did at the cemetery.

Look at me, Grace!

I tried to swallow past the cement blocks in my throat. The tension in the air between us was suddenly as thick as tar.

“Those for Jake?” I pointed to the t-shirts crumpled in her hands.

Grace nodded. “Got to go.”

Shit, she barely spoke in full sentences. She turned away. My stomach twisted. She was leaving again. Leaving me. Going back on that asshole’s bike. What the hell was I going to offer her now, what could I say? I had no fucking idea, I only knew I couldn’t let her go like this. My hand flew out and grabbed hers.

“Grace…”

She spun back to me, her eyes blazing down at our hands, her face tight. She jerked against my grasp.

“You don’t get to do this. Not now,” she said on a hiss. “Now we’re all about what’s good for the club. You made sure of that, right? And so did I.”

And there it was. I winced.

“Let me go,” she said under her breath.

Can’t let you go.

I released her hand and at the same time she snapped hers back. Her handbag went flying off her arm, its contents spilled onto the floor.

“Shit!” Grace scowled and got on her knees. She tossed tubes of lip balm, a pack of tissues, keys, pens, cell phone and a whole lot of other girl crap back into her bag.

My eyes zeroed in on a brown prescription bottle. I picked it up. It was half-full of pills. I scanned the label. Anti-depressant meds. A recent prescription filled at a pharmacy in Rapid City.

“You taking these?” I asked.

Her weary eyes cut to mine, her body visibly stiffened. She plucked a hairbrush and a small round mirror off the floor and shoved them into her big black suede handbag. “It’s none of your business.”

“I’ve been to war, Grace. I know all about post-traumatic stress and anxiety. You need the relief?” Goddammit, she looked like she could use it.

Shit.

We had put her in harm’s way. Now all her old buttons were being pushed once more, and maybe new ones were being created. How was she really holding up under the strain? She was vulnerable, way too vulnerable. But my Grace was strong. She had to be. She had Jake now. She had me—

Fuck.

She plucked the prescription bottle from my hand and shoved it in her bag. “For the past fifteen years, off and on when needed.”

“You’re not mixing them with coke or anything else are you?”

Her head remained bent over the floor. She zipped her bag closed.

“Grace?”

Her eyes came up to mine. They were hard and cold. They weren’t filled with any sort of emotion, unlike that deep wash of luminous grey-green suede they transformed into when I moved inside her, her pink mouth gasping for air, her small hands clutching my back…

“What’s it to you?”

Fucking everything.

“Baby…”

“We done here?”

That tight, cold tone pricked at my skin. I sank back on my haunches and gritted my teeth.

Grace leaned into me. “This has been such fun,” she whispered. The snide tone in her voice left a trail of acid in my ears. It drained right down into the twisted muscle that thudded against my ribs. She took off, her stride long, her back stiff. My palms dug into to my forehead. I squeezed my eyes shut against the burn.

Yeah, that’s what locked down looks like.

“Is that it for today ma’am?” the cashier’s voice rang out.

“That’s all,” came Grace’s taut, rigid voice.

And that’s what locked down sounds like.

Dig’s eyes were ready to burst. “What the fuck?” he growled, his body still.

“What the hell did I do, brother?” Butler shouted.

Jump shook his head. “You are such a goddamn idiot.”

“Cause I looked at his woman?” Butler asked. “Shit, man! She’s around, we talk, I look. So does everybody else. What do you want from me?”

“You don’t just look. You
watch
her all the time,” Dig said. “Think I didn’t notice when we camped out last weekend? You think I’m some kinda moron with my head up my ass?”

I froze. He knew. Oh my God.

“But today you touched her. Nobody touches what’s mine. Nobody touches my Old Lady.”

I opened my mouth to explain, but I clamped it shut again. This was between the brothers. And it was a long time coming.

Half an hour before I had been organizing the shed, perched on a tall metal ladder to place three rusty Double Eagle Motor Oil cans on the highest shelf on the wall. Wreck had found the vintage cans in Wyoming and had brought them home the night before. I hadn’t opened the ladder wide enough though, and it seesawed under me. Butler held onto the ladder as I clambered down, but he slid one arm around my back and one under my knees, lifted me in his arms and pulled me close. Too close.

“Butler, let me down. Come on.”

Butler only laughed and swung me around.

“Please put me down.”

Wreck, Dig, and Boner had walked in just then, and all hell broke loose.

“Aw, man, Come on! Wasn’t anything!” Butler shrugged his shoulders and flashed a slight grin. “Shit, brother, you used to share all the time.”

I scowled. Wreck shook his head and let out a groan. “Wrong thing to say, asswipe.”

“True colors,” Boner said. “You show ‘em time and time again, boy. Just can’t help your fucking self, can you?”

Dig’s burning grip on my wrist tightened.

“She’s my Old Lady. You keep your fucking dick in your pants or I’m gonna have to do it for you,” said Dig. “You watch her like an alligator waiting to pounce on his next meal. She’s mine, goddammit!” Dig smacked my ass where my new tattoo of his wildflower with our initials entwined in the leaves had just been inked the day before. I jerked and hissed in air. The skin was still sensitive.

“She’s got my mark on her,” said Dig. “I’m the one in her day and night. Not you, not ever.”

“I wouldn’t fuck your Old Lady, man. You’re my brother. That shit just isn’t done.”

“But you still wanna get as close as you can, don’t you?” said Wreck. “You just keep pushing at her, keep pushing.” He leaned into Butler and pointed at me. “And that girl’s too nice to tell you to fuck off.”

“I don’t think he got the message, Dig,” said Boner. “He always thinks he can get away with this shit time and time again.” My gaze darted to him. His eyes were that unusual cold green color.

“Got to agree with Boner there,” Wreck said. He pulled me out of Dig’s grasp and tucked me behind his body. I finally let out the breath I’d been holding onto.

“You hear that, motherfucker?” asked Dig.

A muscle in Butler’s jaw tensed. His mouth fell open, and he shook his head at his brothers. “Look, I’m sorry—I…”

Dig’s eyes flashed. “Sorry, huh?”

Wreck unstuck my hands from his arms and pushed me back, motioning me with a jerk of his chin to get in the clubhouse. I retreated into the doorway, but I watched. I couldn’t not watch. My stomach scrunched up.

“Ah, but you’re not feeling me, bro,” Dig said. “You need a lesson.”

“C’mon, Dig!” Butler’s hand tugged through his long blonde locks of hair pulling it away from the twisted features of his handsome face. He swung his hands up. “C’mon man, no harm done. I swear, won’t happen again!”

Dig pulled out his knife from his left boot.

“Bro!” Butler said.

An hour later Butler sucked on a bottle of bourbon in the clubhouse with ice packs on his face. His body was spread out on the bar top like a rag doll while Wreck, who had been a medic in the army, bent over him and sewed up deep gashes over his chest, middle and thighs. His groans reached Dig’s room where I sat on the floor against our bed with my knees curled up to my chest. Dig had taken off on his bike to let off steam. He’d be back soon though.

I waited.

The door banged open and slammed shut. My body shuddered. There were streaks and splatters of blood across his shirt and down his jeans, red smudges on his neck and hands. He ripped off his leather jacket and dumped it on the floor. His face was full of thunder.

“Baby?” I whispered from my patch of humility on the floor.

“Clothes off.”

“Dig…”

“Now!”

Under his iron glare I teetered up on my feet and pulled my shirt up off my head, peeled out of my cutoff shorts, unclasped my bra and tugged down my panties. Dig charged towards me and wrapped his hands around my neck and kissed me hard. His one hand slid down to my tattooed ass cheek, and he smacked it. I bit down on my lip. His fingers dug into my stinging flesh.

“Ow!”

His hand clasped my jaw in a tight grip close to his face. I grit my teeth.

“Never let anyone, not anyone, take advantage of you. Ever. You call it like it is. You don’t have to be nice to everybody.”

I held his fierce gaze.

“You like Butler?” he asked. “You want him? Huh? You want to fuck him?”

“I only want you.”

“Did you like having his eyes on you? Did it turn you on?” His eyes glittered. “What is it? You curious? You’ve only been with me, you bored already?”

My eyes stung. “You know me better than that.”

His head tilted slightly, his fingers gripped my jaw even tighter. “Do you like him?”

Dig would know if I bent the truth. It so wasn’t worth bending, ever. We both expected nothing less than honesty from each other.

Even if it stung.

“He’s… I’m attracted to him.”

Dig’s eyes tightened over my face. He took in air through his nose.

“But I don’t want his hands on me, his mouth on me,” I said. “I don’t want him inside me.”

I reached behind me and put my hand over his on my tattoo. “Your mark means everything to me. You’re everything to me, Dig. I wouldn’t throw away what we have for… I love you.”

His hand pushed mine aside, slid from my rear up to my breast and squeezed. I clenched my teeth against the sharp pain. Our breaths were choppy. My gaze met his hard, glassy one.

“Yeah? You sure about that?”

“What about that bottle blonde that keeps showing up at every damn event lately?” I asked. “She hangs on you at every party, brings you drinks. And you keep smiling at her, talking to her. Last week, you let her touch you. I saw it.”

His jaw clenched. “She’s got a great ass,” he said, his voice rough.

I struggled in his hold, tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he only clasped me tighter against his body. My fingernails dug into his skin.

“You like her? You want inside that cheap ass?” I asked. “You want to fuck her?”

His lips pressed into a firm line.

“Say it, baby,” I said. “Say it!”

“Yeah, I do.”

I grunted and twisted with all my might in his grip, but he only pulled me closer to his body. His forehead slid to mine. His hand dug into my hair.

“But she ain’t got what you got, Sister. None of ‘em do. And I need you, need you to fucking breathe. Everything comes back to you. Always you.”

My eyes didn’t leave his as I tore open the buttons of his jeans. Dig let out a hiss and released me. I shoved the jeans down his hips and pulled out his cock. He clasped my ass in his hands and hoisted my body up in his arms. I clutched his neck and hooked my legs around his waist. My body collided with the door, and I gasped at the jarring pain. I rocked my pelvis up against him, and he rammed inside me.

I grunted through each harsh thrust. It hurt, but I didn’t care. Our eyes were riveted on each other. Our bodies jostled against the door. My fingers dragged through his hair and pulled.

“Sister…” Dig breathed against my lips. “Only you, baby. Only you.”

We didn’t leave our room the rest of that afternoon or that night.

The next day Butler took off for the North Dakota chapter. Dig and I got married the following week.

And I found the bottle-blonde and told her to go fuck herself.