Snow in Texas (Lean Dogs Legacy #1) (15 page)

              “You asshole,” she hissed, sinking down into Candy’s chair. “What the hell?”

              “Like I said, I stepped in shit.” He was toeing his boots off. “Real, actual human shit.” He undid his jeans and pushed them down his legs, stepped out of them, looking stupid in boxers and his shirt and cut. “And then I threw Fox in it,” he added, expression furious.

              “Why would you do that?” she asked, lips feeling numb with panic and shock. She rubbed at her arms, trying to dispel the goosebumps.

              If Colin noticed the effect his ill-treatment was having on her, he didn’t let on. “Why?” he asked. “Because he fucked you, that’s why.”

              Oh.

             
Oooohhhhh
.

              She sucked in a breath. “He told you?”

              “When were you gonna clue me in?” he asked, voice a growl. “Or were you gonna keep it a secret? In case you ever got the itch for something British again?”

              She felt like she’d been slapped. “Are you kidding me?”

              He turned away from her and walked down the hall toward the bathroom, shedding the rest of his clothes as he went.

              Jenny followed. She stepped over his shirt and said, “Is that what this is? Some sort of jealous fit ‘cause Fox and I messed around a long time ago?”

              He didn’t answer. Naked, he stepped into the bathroom and left the door open, leaned in and started the shower.

              Angry, rattled, Jenny looked him over with complete dispassion. Yes, he was a monster. With big, solid bones and heavy muscles. Broad, long-fingered hands capable of crushing things – like, say, for instance, her wrist. She rubbed at the offended joint as her gaze skipped down his back, the way his generous shoulders tapered down to narrow hips, the tan lines at his waist, the shadow between his legs. Nothing about him aroused her in that moment. All she felt was small and fearful, and completely incapable.

              “I asked you a question,” she said.

              He glanced back at her over his shoulder as he tested the water temperature, gaze dark and harsh. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

              “Because it happened years ago. It’s ancient history.”

              “Did you cheat on your husband with him?”

              “Are you fucking serious?”

              They glared at one another until Jenny couldn’t stand it any more. She glanced away, choking on her fury. “It was about a year after the divorce. I got very drunk, and Charlie was being very sweet–”

              “Oh, so it’s ‘Charlie’ now?”

              “Shut up,” she snapped. “You don’t get to resent me for things I did a long time ago. I’ve known you a few months. A tumble I took six years ago isn’t any of your business.”

              Scowling to himself, he stepped under the spray and pulled the clear glass door shut. Jenny wished it was frosted, so she couldn’t see him so clearly as the water pattered across his shoulders.

              She closed her eyes and the dim, wine-soaked memory of six years ago filled her mind, warm, but impressionless as the steam that filled the bathroom. She’d wanted a little friction, and she’d trusted Fox, and known he wouldn’t mistake what happened between them for anything real.

              Unlike Colin, apparently.

              “Why does it make a difference?” she asked, opening her eyes.

              Colin scrubbed a froth of shampoo bubbles through his short hair, white rivulets trickling down his face. “It makes me look like an idiot.”

              “Oh. Well. I’d hate to fuck with your man-pride. That’s super important. Never mind my bones.” She lifted her bruised wrist.
Never mind my nerves
, she added to herself.

              His eyes opened to slits, and his body stilled, suddenly, rigid beneath the spray. “Did I hurt you?”

              “Yeah.”

              His eyes widened, and she saw the shampoo run into them, knew it had to sting. His voice changed. “I’m sorry.”

              “Whatever.” As she turned to leave, she heard the shower door slide back, and the light splatter of water hitting the floor.

              “Baby,” he said, and she hated that one word could hold her in place like that. Just as weak as she’d always been. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, wiping the shampoo from his eyes. “Really, I didn’t mean…”

              Jenny sighed and sagged against the counter. “You know what? Riley always used to say that. Right after he blacked my eyes. ‘I didn’t mean it.’ ‘Sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to hurt you.’ And then a week later, I was spitting blood again.”

              His face paled beneath its golden tan. Water sluiced down off his body and landed on the bathmat, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Jen.”

              “Is it not okay that I had sex with a friend? Should I have just sat around with my legs crossed until you showed up?”

              “Jen,” he repeated, and stepped fully out of the shower, dripping all over the place.

              “You’re ruining my bathroom. You’re gonna have to mop all of this up.”

              He reached her in one long stride and took her hand in his slippery wet one, turning it palm-up so he could see the already-darkening finger marks along her pulse point.

              A hard shiver stole through her, and she fought the urge to pull away.

              “I’m sorry,” he said again, staring down at the damage he’d inflicted. “Jenny, I’m so sorry.” His dark eyes lifted, red-rimmed and full of helplessness and regret.

              She had to dampen her lips before she could get them to work. “You know why I picked Fox?”

              His brows knitted together.

              “Because he’s not very big. I’m taller than he is.”

              Hesitantly, he said, “You said you’d never slept with anyone you didn’t care about.”

              “That’s true. I care about Fox as a friend. As a member of this club. He’s like a brother. And I knew, the night I was with him, that he was probably the least likely to put me in the hospital, if he got angry with me.”

              He let go of her wrist and reached for her waist, tried to draw her toward him.

              Her eyes filled with tears and she hated it. “I didn’t want to be with somebody as big as you,” she said, voice threatening to crack. “I knew you’d just beat me up–” She cut herself off before she started sobbing, ashamed to her core.

              “Jenny.” Colin wrapped both arms around her and pulled her flush against his wet, slippery chest. She felt him kiss the top of her head.

              She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to his slick skin, felt the hard throb of his heartbeat. “I need some time away from you,” she whispered. “Please. Just let go of me.”

~*~

Colin

He ground out his smoke on the sole of his boot and lit another one. His stomach growled, but the idea of food made him sick.

             
Please. Just let go of me.

              Two bikes turned in from the street and pulled up in front of him. Candy and Jinx.

              “How’d it go?” Candy asked as he dismounted, and there was an edge to his voice that told Colin he already knew.

              Colin shrugged. “Dusty wasn’t there, but his roommate said he’d seen Riley around talking to the guy. Safe to say the kid’s part of his crew.”

              Candy nodded, gaze level and assessing. “You and Fox – how’d that go?”

              “I threw him into a puddle of shit,” Colin said, honestly.

              “Threw him?”

              “Picked him up. Threw him.” He mimed the action. “He landed like this.” He mimed that too, and Jinx let out an amused snort.

              Candy ducked his head, and looked like he hid a grin. “Take it you heard the history, then.”

              “Yep.”

              “How’s Jen?”

             
Please. Just let go of me
.

              Pain knifed through him, tugged hard at his ribcage. “She doesn’t want much to do with me right now.”

              Candy thumped him on the shoulder as he passed. “She’ll come around. Probably.”

Twenty-Four

Jenny

“Riley, please…”

              Jenny woke with a gasp, staggering out of a nightmare she’d had too often…but which never failed to put her in a cold sweat. She opened her eyes to her dark bedroom and fought to get her bearings, the ceiling spinning overhead.

              It was just a dream, just a dream, just a dream, she told herself.

              Slowly, her heart rate eased, and she was able to take a deep breath. Her eyes adjusted to the dark.

              It was the wee hours, that period of night when the cool set in, and all but the most nefarious of creatures sought sleep. Speaking of nefarious…

              Where was Colin, she wondered. In his dorm bed? At the Armadillo? With someone warm and willing in his lap.

              She flexed her fingers and the bruise on her wrist grabbed just beneath the skin; she imagined she felt his grip, still, the warm solid pressure of his hand.

              She shivered beneath the sheets, and tried to tell herself it was just the perspiration drying.

              Time. Yeah, she needed some time. Away from Colin, alone with her thoughts.

              Then again, she’d had seven years alone with her thoughts, and she wasn’t any smarter for it.

              With a deep sigh, she flopped onto her back again and willed sleep to return.

              It didn’t.

~*~

Two Weeks Later

The problem with sex, Jenny reflected one afternoon at work, is that it was just as addictive as alcohol. You could go without it for long periods, but suddenly, when you’d had it, and it was a prime vintage, and sent you flying, having it taken away made you almost feverish with want.

              After two weeks, she was a little bit stir-crazy. She told herself it was just a physical restlessness. But really, it had a lot to do with those dark-eyed, wounded, kicked-puppy looks Colin sent her way when he thought no one was looking.

              They’d run into each other in the hallway a few days before, and Jenny had glanced down at her toes and muttered, “Excuse me,” stricken with the sudden, overwhelming terror that she wasn’t going to be able to keep her distance much longer.

              “I miss you,” he’d said, in that low, smoky, Cajun-accented voice that stirred heat in her belly.

              She’d tilted forward, had caught herself just before she’d reached for him. Because she couldn’t do that. She felt awful for torturing Colin this way. But it wasn’t about Colin. It was about allowing herself over and over to be abused by men. And she couldn’t fall back into that trap.

              At night, when she couldn’t sleep, a tiny voice in the back of her mind liked to remind her that he hadn’t meant to hurt her. He’d just been overcome with emotion.

              Wasn’t that the case with every wife beater?

              “Jen,” someone said, snapping her from her thoughts.

              She jerked. “What? Oh. Chelsea. Hi.”

              Her fellow waitress rolled her eyes. “Daydreaming about your biker man again?”

              “Oh, no…”

              Chelsea hooked her arm through Jenny’s and turned her away from the register. “It’s okay, I’d daydream about him too,” she said, conspiratorially. She began to tow Jenny forward. “I haven’t seen him in a while, though. You guys have a fight or something?”

              “Or something.” Wow, she’d really been out of it; she had no idea what was going on. “Where are we going?”

              “On break. Crowd’s thinned out and Eric said he’d cover for us. Lemme grab my smokes first?”

              “Yeah.”

              The break room was a stuffy, windowless space with wooden cubbies for their things, and one square foot of counter space that served as a coffee bar. Jenny tried not to breathe too deeply as Chelsea went to her cubby and rooted through her purse. One of the cooks had smoked a joint in here, and the stink of it was overwhelming.

              “That guy who replaced Dusty, I expect,” Chelsea said of the unasked identity of the smoker. “What’s his name? Lewis?”

              “Lenny, I think.”

              “Total dumbass. He’s kinda cute though.”

              “Hmm,” Jenny murmured in patent disagreement.

              “Not as cute as your guy, obviously. But I ain’t got anything like that waiting on me at home. So…oh, hey, can I borrow a tampon?”

              Jenny pushed away from the doorjamb and headed for her cubby. “Sure. Regular or super?”

              “Regular’s fine.”

              The purse she’d carried today was her usual faded brown satchel, the leather soft as butter from years of carry. She unzipped it and dug into the interior pocket where she kept her essentials.

              “You know what I’ve been thinking?” Chelsea asked behind her. “You know how they’ve got karaoke Tuesdays at the Armadillo, and you know how my mama’s always said I had a beautiful singing voice…”

              Jenny’s hand closed around one of the plastic-wrapped cylinders and whatever Chelsea was saying turned into white noise. She had a full stock of tampons in her purse. When she should have already been needing them herself and burned half through them by now.

              Her breath caught. “Oh, damn.”

~*~

Colin

Stripping junk cars for parts was decidedly less glamorous than interrogating witnesses…and less nauseating, too. Not to mention more productive.

              They’d gotten nowhere hunting for Riley’s current whereabouts. Candy had been trying for two weeks now to pin him down, and so far, the bastard was untraceable.

              Colin banged his knuckles against the hood of the Firebird he was pulling apart and cursed more violently than was necessary. He was so wired, it wasn’t going to take much to send him into a full-on detonation. He hadn’t felt this way since he’d headed for Knoxville with the bright idea of pounding the shit out of his un-poundable half-brother.

              Sexual frustration wasn’t anything new, but this was on a whole different level. This wasn’t merely a dry spell; this was seeing, sensing, feeling his lover. In the clubhouse, in the room, in his memories. Knowing she was close enough to touch, and not being able to. Because she wanted some time and space. She needed to be alone, to gather her fragile nerves and decide if she could forgive him for reminding her of the abuses she’d suffered.

              He knew he wasn’t capable of hurting her, not in the way she feared. But conveying that message to her? No easy task. Especially when he was just a dumbass, fuckaround loser who’d never had anything worth trying for in his life.

              He heard someone approach and didn’t glance up right away. Whoever it was seemed in no hurry to greet him.

              “What’s up?” Colin finally asked, and by that time he’d figured who it was. A glance confirmed that Jinx stood on the other side of the Firebird, digging dirt from under his nails with a toothpick.

              The man had to use some kind of oil or something in his beard, the way it emitted a healthy sheen in the sunlight. He glanced up, briefly, giving Colin one of those assessing looks that could have meant a variety of things. “Got a call from Knoxville.”

              His stomach tightened, an automatic reaction of dread and distaste. Knoxville meant Mercy…

              “Ghost is asking for reinforcements up there, something special he wants to do on Halloween.”

              …It also meant the mother chapter of the US arm of the club.

              “What’s going on?”

              Jinx shook his head. “Don’t know. They’ll fill us in when we get there.”

              A lump formed in his stomach. “We?”

~*~

“For how long?”

              Candy shrugged. “Long as it takes, I guess.” He reached for the cigarette in the ashtray at his elbow. A deep notch marred his sunburned forehead, brows tucked together with obvious worry. He’d sounded calm enough, but he couldn’t control his face; it reflected the troubled state of his thoughts.

              Colin glanced over at Jinx beside him, frowned, and pressed on anyway. They were in the chapel – the first time for him – and all the sacred room’s charms were lost on him, drowned out by the worry pounding through him. “We’re just gonna leave? In the middle of…” He gestured, not sure what the hell to call this manhunt they had underway for Riley.

              Candy took a long drag, sighing on the exhale. “We’re nowhere with Riley. We’re not in the middle of anything.”

              “I’m sorry.” Colin had been standing, and sat now, leaning toward his VP. “But that sounds like a buncha bullshit. The second we leave – and my guess is somehow Riley’ll get word that we’re gone – he’ll move on Jen. On whoever we leave behind. You know that if you’re not around, bad shit’s gonna happen. So don’t gimme that shit about not being anywhere.” Belatedly, he added, “Sir,” on the end.

              Candyman smirked. “You suck as a prospect, you know that?”

              Colin tilted his head in agreement.

              “Shit. Alright,” Candy muttered. “Since you’re gonna be a shithead about it. I’m putting something together that’ll get Riley off our asses for a little while.”

              A relief to hear…and an insult, too.

              “When were you gonna tell me about it?” Colin asked.

              “When it was relevant.”

              He lifted his brows.

              “I’m telling you now, ain’t I? Prospects don’t get to demand information.”

              “I’m not a prospect right now; I’m a guy worried about his girl’s safety.”

              Candy snorted. “Your girl? Did you get that worked out, then?”

              Colin ground his teeth together.

              “Take that as a no.”

              “It’s complicated.”

              “It always is.”

              Colin sat back in his chair, deflating. “So what’s your plan with Riley?”

~*~

Jenny

“No,” she muttered. “No. It can’t be.
I
can’t be.”

              But there on her bathroom counter, defying all logic – and her wishes – sat three early detection test sticks. All of them positive.

              Jenny put her hands on her hips and stared at the offending items, shaking her head. “No. No, no, no, no.”

              But the sticks mocked her:
Oh, but you are. What are you gonna do now, genius?