Wring: Road Kill MC #5 (10 page)

He's a danger to me in a much greater sense. I
face obsession, lust, and a whole shit ton of other risks.

Besides, he's made it clear I was just a female
who needed saving.

Nothing more.

Or less.

*

“I appreciate you calling, Shannon. We were so
worried. And your explanation of events is colorful.”

Colorful.
I can't stand Sally. She's so
cloying and insincere. I swallow what little pride I can hang onto
and kick off my boots. They tumble on their sides on the battered
old wood floor. “Um, yeah. I was terrified.”

Some gang guy about tears my hand off, and she's
pissed because she had to do reading time on the fly. Thank God I
kept details vague, putting the entire encounter under
“mugging.”

I muffle my sigh of exasperation.

“I know you've been on the list for additional
hours, but if you can't get to work on time with only the
twenty-five hours we give you…”

I fill in her silence with the unseen shrug she
gives.

“We're putting the house on the market.” I pause
for a few seconds, hating to confide in this bitch of a boss who
has less than zero compassion. “If it sells quickly, my mom and I
can afford in-home care, and I can take on more hours.” My voice
holds all the hope I feel.

A couple beats of time drum past, then she
replies, “When that eventuality happens, we'll reassess your
employment options. As it stands, you're on ninety days’ probation
starting now.”

“Sally—”

“I'm sorry, Shannon. You're a great employee in
many ways, but this inconsistency. What with your mother's
illness—”

“RA,” I say, with barely contained disgust.

“With her troubles,” she corrects, going on,
“you've missed or been late to work more times than we would
normally tolerate. The City of Kent has high standards of
punctuality and attendance from employees. Appearances and
professionalism are critical.”

Scalding tears collect like a river of molten
fire, beginning to run down my face.

Please, please don't fire me.
I can't. I
don't have enough money to hold me over before I get a new job, not
to mention a job I love.

“You get one more chance, Shannon.”

I cover my mouth then release a breath in a gust
of relief. My fingers shake as I wipe the tears from my hot
cheeks.

It kills me to say what I know I must. “Thank
you, Sally.”

“You're welcome. And I'd recommend relocating to
a different neighborhood, where these sketchy types aren't around
for you to encounter.

I don't correct her. It's no use. Sally won't
understand or listen. She wouldn’t believe me when I say I
don't—and never would—hang around with gang members. Sally would
never understand that my life revolves around taking care of my mom
and bringing home whatever money I can in to keep surviving.

Sally's never been challenged with anything
other than being a bitch to her underlings.

“Don't you agree, Shannon? That mixing with
these types breeds trouble?”

I was not mixing.

I tighten my fingers on either side of my hips,
crumpling my bedspread, holding my prepaid cell against my ear with
my shoulder.

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes,” I seethe.

I swear I can hear her smile. “Excellent. We'll
see you tomorrow then.”

“Okay.”

“Goodbye.”

I open my mouth to say goodbye, but there's just
a void where she hung up on me.

Empty. Like my life.

I start to feel sorry for myself then squash
those emotions. Self-pity is a luxury I can't afford.

Cruising my apps on my cell, I find a big local
real estate company.

I call.

They're very receptive to our small house
crammed into all-commercial zoning. Sure—they'll come by tomorrow
afternoon after I get off work and survey the property.

A tired smile spreads over my face then fades as
I realize what Mom and I have to give up more than a house—it’s our
heritage, too.

I soak my pillowcase with tears.

Sometimes, it seems like the decisions I have to
make are the best choice among bad ones.

Wring

“Not good.” Noose shrugs.

“Just find out, will ya?” I ask.

He gives me a hard stare. Actually, that's his
normal look. “You'll check out my stock portfolio?”

I snort. “Tit for tat.”

Noose binds his longish dirty-blond hair in a
hair tie that roughly matches the buff color. “Fuck no. But with
Rose and Aria—I need to have something to fall back on. Condo's
paid for. Now I need to do something with the green—stash it. And I
don't know how to play the market. I don't have the financial
know-how. You feel me?”

I do. “Just giving you shit. I'll get your cash
set up in some good companies.”

Noose rolls his shoulders like they're tight.
“ʼKay. Just wanna look out for the family.”

I smirk.

Too busy being pleased with myself to see
Noose's fist.

I feel it, though, when it hits me in the arm,
spinning me off the chair I was perched on. I hit the floor like a
cat then tackle him around the legs.

“Fucker!” he howls.

Big lug lands on his back and snaps his hands
around my neck.

Snare walks in and sees the two of us. Snorts.
“What are you fucking Nancy's doing rolling around on the
floor?”

Noose is strangling me, and I'm thinking about
gouging his eyes out when Lariat sails in on Snare's heels.

“Dumb fucks, can't keep your hands off each
other.” He grunts and wades past Snare.

“Fucker,” Noose seethes, fingers biting.

I hit him open handed in the face.

“Bring it, ya pussy.”

Huh.

Lariat dangles a knot between us like a white
flag of truce.

Fuck.

Noose lets go.

I rise, glancing at his crotch.

He smirks. “Rose'll kill you if you fuck with
the jewels.”

“Really?” I ask, thinking about a woman killing
me because she can't have another man’s cock in her anymore.

Now that's devotion.

“You think that's funny?” Noose asks, standing,
looking pretty ragey.

“I do.”

“Couple of cat-fighting girls.”

“He started it.” I point at Noose.

Snare folds his arms. “Like I was saying.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Lariat looks
between the two of us.

“Wring's being a dumb fuck about this chick,
poking some fun at me because I'm all domestic and shit.”

I glower, looking at my boots. I guess I'm
pretty transparent. Especially to Noose.

“What's going on? Why do I come in here and you
guys are beating the shit out of each other?” Lariat's dark gaze
searches both our faces.

“He won't admit he's got it bad for this
girl.”

I look at Noose. “I only admit that I want to
close the loop with her. I came by—wrong time, wrong place. This
fucking Blood was hurting her, and… I don't know. Didn't fucking
like it. Made him stop.”

Lariat whistles. “
This
is why Viper's
calling emergency church. He's going to want to hear all about
it.”

I hang my head. I endangered the club by
interfering. All the delicate turf war establishment and domination
might be ruined.

Snare studies my expression. “We've all done
shit, Wring. What's going on?”

“What's going on is Wring has pussy fever, and
along with not sleeping, he can't think until he taps this
girl.”

I whirl, grabbing Noose by the collar.

“Fuck,” Lariat spits and slaps his palms on our
napes, slamming are skulls together.

Noose sits on his ass, and I stagger
backward.

“You two fucking children are going to get
along.”

We look at each other, and I press a hand to my
head where Lariat knocked our shit together.

“I like tapping twats,” I say slowly. “Nothing
better. I sure as fuck don't need some girl that's got a fucked-up
home situation with a chaser of gang.”

Snare spreads his arms wide. “Yeah. That all
sounds great in theory. You sleeping around—or just sleeping?”

I let my anger slide out on my next exhale, like
a dragon breathing fire.

Snare chuckles. “But when there's a woman you
can't stop thinking about, that usually means one thing.”

“It's never just pussy when you can't stop
festering over a chick.”

“Why don't you fuck it out?” Nooses suggests
with a shrug, hauling himself to his feet and spreading his arms
away from his body.

I shake my head. “I could try, but the truth is,
I'm concerning myself with her when she's not around. Fucking sweet
butts will only be a distraction from my goddamned issue.”

“What?” Lariat asks in thinly veiled disgust.
“You met this girl yesterday?”

I give a curt nod.

“You can't be feeling anything—hell, is this a
white-knight complex or something? You know we're not in the
sandbox anymore, right? We don't have to save everyone.”

Noose and I look at each other then at Lariat.
We tap knuckles like people toast with champagne.

“Ya can't save everyone, Wring,” Snare comments
quietly.

I fist my hands. “I don't want to save
everyone.”

“Just her,” Noose guesses with unerring
accuracy.

My head swivels in his direction. “Yeah, fucking
genius. Just her.”

I walk away.

Gotta go to church and get my ass chewed and
spit out.

*

Viper leans back, drumming his fingers on the
battered church table. His faded-blue eyes peg me where I sit.

We usually meet at eleven in the morning once
per week. Why the late hour? Lots of hung brothers. And I don't
mean in the cocky way, like horses. But hung from booze and
bitches.

“I don't know, Wring. You're the most
level-headed of all the brothers.”

“Amen,” says Storm, a prospect who has a knack
for opening his mouth at the least opportune times. Noose glares at
him, and he exhales in justified fear.

Noose grins at his expression. He gives Viper a
swift look. “Vipe, Wring and I got into it.”

“Heard. Ya dumb bitches, we don't have time for
a beatdown among ourselves.” He swings his finger between the two
of us. “I need you guys to be ready for our enemies. What were you
two lovebirds quarreling about anyway?” He rolls his eyes as though
weary. “Gotta be pussy.” His thick eyebrows rise.

Silence.

“Isn't it always?” Snare says out of
nowhere.

“Yup,” Lariat replies instantly, giving me a
hard look.

I guess I earned that.

“Noose tells me you came between a Blood and his
bitch.”

I bristle. Shannon is
not
Vincent's
bitch. But I want him to be mine. My hands still tingle from the
memory of her under my skin.

Viper waits.

I form my answer carefully. “I was killinʼ road,
on my way to Noose's for some food.”

“Rose was making pancakes?” Trainer asks with a
hopeful lilt.

I shut him up with a glance.

“Fine, fuck,” he says in a sullen mumble.

I point at him. “You're lucky you're patched in,
or you'd be on cum and piss patrol.”

Trainer pulls a face of such pure disgust it
cracks us up. When we've finally controlled ourselves I continue,
“I was driving through Kent Station, saw a Blood manhandling a
chick.”

Viper's shoulder lifts in a clear
So?

I rub a hand over my skull, feeling the bite of
many short hairs needling my skin. “She didn't look like a working
girl. I might have let it slide if I thought she was a Blood flesh
worker.”

“Hate those fucks. Drugging girls and putting
them out on the street like turning out a cat on a stoop.” Viper's
hate thrums through his voice.

Lots of assent passes around the table.

“Love the bitches, but I'm for them having a
choice of who they want to bang.” Storm leans back in the chair,
hands folded behind his head, eloquent as always.

I shake my head.

Noose tips Storm's chair back with a finger, and
he falls backward, cracking like an egg on the floor, limbs
scattered and tossed behind him.

He wails.

Noose grins as he and Lariat tap knuckles.

“Boys?” Viper says in a low voice of warning.
Then he turns that Prez gaze on me.

There's a reason why he's the club president.
He's steel, through and through. He's seen war. Close up. And a lot
of other mind-numbing shit.

Like us knotters. Noose and Lariat are my
brothers in the club. But we were brothers in war before we landed
here.

Viper's got that kind of understanding, too.

“Anyway…” I shoot a glare at Noose, and he flips
me off, shooting me a tight smile. “I knew she wasn't a whore, so I
slowed down.”

“Why?” Noose asks.

Dick.

“She—fuck—she gave me a look, okay?” I toss out
my words like throwing stars. Hoping, they strike any soft
underbelly sitting here.

Hard eyes stare back, from hard men. There's no
sympathy, only a need for answers.

“A fucking
look
?” Snare asks,
incredulous.

I nod. “It was like she was speaking right to
me.” I cup my hand behind my ear. How could I ever forget those big
green eyes pleading at me from the sidewalk?

“What was she saying?” Lariat's lips pull
up.

Jesus, these fuckers.

“Help.” My eyes blaze at Noose and Snare.
They’ve got women. They know what I mean. “You know the look,
Noose, right?”

He suddenly becomes interested in his hands.

“Right?” I roar into the sudden silence, and his
chin jerks up.

“I don't want to scout this girl, if she's just
some snatch you want to hump then dump.” Noose shrugs.

“Have I ever asked you to check anything
out?”

He shakes his head. “No, but let me tell you
something, pal. When we were fighting together, you were fucking
ice man. Nothing thawed your ass. You were the most neutral fucking
human being I've ever known. So forgive me if you wanting me to
intel some librarian girl is a little fucking
odd
.”