Unruly (4 page)

“Are you ready to head back?”

For a moment Alamo looked at me like he was studying me, but then he nodded, and that was it. My escape ended. Now all that was left was putting together my life as a truly single woman, instead of one who was only pretending to be single. I could do it. I knew that.

It still hurt.

Chapter 3

A
LAMO HADN
'
T ENTIRELY BELIEVED
E
LLEN
'
S THEORY THAT
Dash wouldn't care that he'd had lunch with her, but he realized that
she
believed it. He didn't know the guy, but whatever Dash had said or done was enough to convince Ellen that she didn't matter to him. That much had been clear. Whether or not she was right remained to be seen.

A day later, Alamo was at Wolves & Whiskey, sitting at the bar and enjoying a drink. He needed to start work the following week, but until then he wasn't doing much. He'd done enough unpacking to get himself sorted. He had pots and pans, towels and soap, bedlinens and a pillow, and of course his tools, in case the bike needed anything. Food, rest, bath, and bike were all in order. The rest could wait. That left him with time on his hands and no woman to distract him. In most of his life, that would've been a recipe for trouble. He was hoping that wasn't the case now. Seeing Dash stalking across the dingy interior of the bar, however, was leading Alamo to think that trouble was determined to find him.

“I hear you picked Ellie up at my place,” Dash said, menace consciously in every bit of his body and voice as he walked up to stand next to Alamo at the bar.

Alamo shrugged and said, “Mike said the girl needed a ride. I picked her up in some alley.”

“She was at my place.”

Carefully keeping his attention on his beer wasn't quite enough to keep his disdain hidden. He was new here, and he really didn't want to be in a fight. He also really wanted to punch the idiocy right off Dash's face. Instead, all he said was “Then maybe you ought to be the one driving her home.”

“She is off-limits to Wolves,” Dash stressed. “Stay away from her.”

Alamo stood and turned to face Dash. There was a “favored son” air to him that made it clear that he expected people to obey him, but he wasn't backing that with fists or skills. It was a coincidence of birth that he was the young prince of this chapter. Regardless of
why
, it still should've been reason enough for Alamo to mind his own business, but something about Ellen made him feel protective. There weren't a lot of things that made Alamo want to take a swing at a man without provocation, but leaving a woman in tears was one of them. It meant that he'd disliked Dash before they'd even met. Now? Dash was only adding to the growing distaste Alamo felt. Being talked to as if he was an underling wasn't
ever
particularly good for his temper. If someone had the authority to do so, that would be different. Noah Dash didn't.

They stood, neither speaking, neither backing up. Dash might have started this because he was an entitled prick, but he held his position like he could throw or take a punch. It raised Alamo's regard for him infinitesimally. He grinned, and at his side, his hand curled into a fist.

“Everything okay here?” Killer's voice interrupted the tension, not erasing it, but inserting a pause.

Alamo shifted his gaze to eye the man who had walked up behind Dash. He didn't know many people here yet, but Killer had been present when he'd first reported to Echo. He seemed like good people when they'd talked—and he
did
have the authority to tell Alamo to step back.

“Just clearing things up about Ellie,” Dash said, his voice much friendlier. “I don't think the new guy knew she was under my protection.”

“Does
Ellie
know she's under your protection?” Killer prompted in the same light tone. “I thought you two were . . .” His words faded.

Dash said nothing, and Killer let out a low whistle.

“We had an argument or something, but she's still Ellie.” Dash looked like he might be frustrated enough to try to throw a punch at both of them. Alamo almost felt sympathy for the guy. Clearly he had no clue what was going on if he wasn't even certain whether they'd had an argument. That sympathy faded just as quickly as it had begun when Dash added, “She'll calm down and come back. She always does.”

“Ellie's got a temper on her that would send anyone smart into retreat when she's all het up,” Killer told Alamo. Then he grinned in a way that made Dash's hands ball into fists. “She's always been a feisty thing, but there are times that's not a bad thing at all. No guesswork about what Ellie wants or what she thinks.”

There was obvious subtext, but Alamo kept his mouth shut. Whatever Ellen did or didn't do with either of these men was
her
business. He'd met her once, and although she was intriguing, she apparently wasn't as single as he'd thought from the sounds of it. Maybe she and Dash were one of those crazy couples who were on and off again like a strobe light. She hadn't seemed like that sort of woman, but Alamo had spent only a couple of hours with her and most of those were either riding in silence or listening to her sing.

Dash, for his part, looked like he'd been chewing glass.

Killer glanced at Alamo. “Dash says she's hands-off, man. That's clear?”

“Crystal.”

Killer nodded and turned back to Dash. All grins were gone as he said, “Don't start shit with him for giving the girl a lift home because you fucked up again. You keep treating her like that and she's going to stay gone one of these times. You want to keep her? Man up, cuz. If not . . .” He shrugged. “Just don't start trouble in the house because of a girl who isn't even your old lady. We clear?”

“I'm not a Wolf,
cuz
,” Dash said. “You don't get to tell me what to do.”

Then he walked away.

Once he was gone, Killer pulled up a stool and motioned to the barmaid that she should get him and Alamo both a drink. Then he said, “Dash isn't a bad guy, but he's shit on sticking to anything. Club or woman. But he and Ellie have been screwing around for years.”

“I gave her a ride. That's all,” Alamo pointed out.

“Clear over to Memphis,” Killer said blandly. “When Ellen sings, people talk. We got a call. Echo likes to know what she's doing.”

“She was upset.”

“That happens a lot where Dash is concerned,” Killer said. “Those of us who know about them don't say anything. He might not be patched in, but he's family . . . so if he says she's off-limits, she is.”

Alamo nodded.

Killer motioned to the barmaid. “Plenty of girls to go around, man. Dash certainly doesn't limit himself. He just likes to have Ellen to go back to when he's feeling like he wants a little talking or cuddle or whatever with his fucking. She deserves better, but for some reason, she puts up with him.”

The barmaid came over with their drinks. She was a cute little thing, all curves and smiles. “Here you go.”

Alamo took his drink from her, but he didn't comment on Ellen. Whatever her deal was with Dash, it wasn't Alamo's business. He wasn't getting involved. His temper was already an issue. That didn't mean, however, that he was going to be a dick to Ellen because of Dash.

Once the rather pretty barmaid walked away, Alamo said, “Just so we're clear: I told Ellen she could call if she needed anything, and I'm not going to take my word back.”

Killer nodded. “Keep it platonic. I don't need to deal with property issues between you two. You're new here, and Echo's happy to have you. Says you're worth keeping here. Don't fuck it up. If you do, it becomes my problem, and don't neither of us want that to happen.”

“Makes sense,” Alamo agreed. He'd heard enough about Killer to know that he was a lot more experienced with violence than someone their age ought to be, but he'd been raised in the club and working for them since he was a kid. He was the current president's son whether or not anyone said so. It didn't take more than a glance to see their resemblance. Alamo had no intention of coming to blows with him, not because he couldn't handle Killer, but because there was no way to win that sort of fight. Losing wasn't appealing, but beating Echo's son was risky too. Doing so might mean Alamo wasn't going to be welcome in the club, and he needed the club.

“I'm not going to start anything,” Alamo said.

“Good. That mess in Carolina seem to be following you here?”

Alamo shrugged. “Not so far. It was good of Echo to be willing to take me on.”

“Wolves are family,” Killer said, as if that policy was easy. It wasn't, but the simplicity of it was that the club was a lifeline to almost all of them at one point or another. The Southern Wolves had one another's backs.

“If it looks like it followed, I can move on,” Alamo offered. Protecting the club was a priority, as much as the club protecting the members was.

“No need.” Killer flashed teeth. “We got it. Just keep us updated.”

Business concluded, Killer motioned the bartender over again. His intimidating expression faded into a warm flirtatious assessment of the young bartender, who preened under his attention. “My boy here is new to our chapter. I need you take him out and show him the town tonight, okay?”

“Anything you say, Killer.” She smiled at Killer and then at Alamo. “Best job I've been offered.”

Alamo couldn't deny that she was a pretty little slip of a thing, but he was a lot more interested in the beautiful singer he'd met earlier than the sweet girl in front of him. Nonetheless, he saw Killer's move for what it was and went along with it. He smiled at her and asked, “What's your name, darlin'?”

Chapter 4

T
ELL ME WHAT YOU WANT ME TO SAY
,”
NOAH SAID
when I walked out the front door a couple of days later. “I don't know what I said, but—”

“Nothing.” I stepped around him.

“Bullshit.” He stayed at my side as I walked to my car. “You ignore my calls. You haven't come by at all . . . So what did I do
this
time to piss you off?”

“Let it go, Noah.”

“Is it someone else?” Noah stepped in front of me, forcing me to back up or shove him aside. I backed up. I wasn't ready or willing to touch him even casually. I had self-control in most things, but Noah was a bad habit. Resisting him wasn't easy, even now.

“It's not someone else,” I told him, even as the thought of Alamo flitted through my mind. Alamo wasn't
why
I left Noah. I'd not even met him when I walked out on Noah, but I knew that I was noticing Alamo because I was over Noah. There was no way to explain that well, though. Telling him I'd been thinking of another man wasn't going to do anything good for Noah's temper.

“So what then? I don't understand, Ellie.”

Noah didn't often admit to having feelings for me, and I wasn't sure that the ones he had would've ever turned into enough. Tonight, though, they were raw in his expression. Whether he could own it or not, he wanted more than this mess we had between us. Leaving him was good for
both
of us.

“I'm not angry,” I said. “I promise. I'm just . . . tired.”

“Are you sick?”

I laughed. I didn't mean to, but he had been my best friend for too long for me to forget the person he was when we weren't whatever we'd been trying to be. He was dense.

“I'm fine,” I said gently. “I'm just not happy.”

“So . . . you took a break,” he said slowly. “You're not mad, but you're tired and unhappy.”

There was something sweeter in him than I got to see these days, but in that instant I saw it again. He didn't understand. Even now that I'd explained it, he couldn't follow what I was saying.