Wring: Road Kill MC #5 (5 page)

Well… fuck me.

I snort.

She tries to stand,
screams as she puts weight on the arm the gang fuck hurt, and
drops, cracking her elbow trying to catch herself.

I stride over there and
pluck her off the sidewalk. She's a featherweight. I automatically
assess her.

Smells sweet, like ripe
peach and yummy female. Maybe a buck fifteen. Five and a half feet
tall.

Boner goes full
tilt.

She screams and I clamp a
hand over her mouth. “Shut up.”

The girl
stills.

I tell her what's going
on. We're knee deep in Blood territory. Where there's one Blood,
more will show.

“You his whore?” I ask
again, because hurt or not, female or not, that's a different ball
of wax.

I don't give her time to
answer before firing off another question. My eyes bore into hers,
commanding her with my stare to tell me the truth.
Did she want help?

She nods, sending big
crocodile tears flying. I fight a pang of tender for her and want
to wipe those big tears off her gorgeous face.

What the hell's wrong with
me?

My hands shake as I grab
her unhurt arm and haul her behind me, telling her to get on the
ride.

Fucker's woken up, and
he's crawling toward us.

I smirk.

You think that love tap is all
I got?
My slight smile becomes a grin. I
got
so
much
more. Maybe if he sticks
around, I'll give him a slice of
hurt
ya
pie.

I bark at the girl to get
on, calling her Blondie out of nowhere.

She gets on, and her hands
tentatively encircle my waist. I grab the uninjured one and put it
where it rides more comfortably on my torso.

I'd love to have that
small hand on my cock.

My smile stays.

I reach behind me and cup
her ass cheeks, hiking her against me. She feels right in my
palms.

I roar out of
there.

Don't know how I'm going
to explain it all when I get to Noose's.

Won't matter.

That brother's got my
back. Always has.

*

I drop the code into the
lighted pad with a quick stab of fingers and shoot the girl a look.
She stays locked on my bike. My eyes travel her arm, stuttering
over the bruising at her delicate wrist.

The underground garage
door begins to slide up.

I walk to the bike and get
on. Her slender arms come around me again without a word, and I hit
the kickstand, rolling underneath the ground.

I park next to Noose's
stall. It's empty.

Weird.
Feels like that fucked-up little event took forever. I stay
seated on the ride, turn the key, and extract my cell to check the
time. Straight up ten.

Huh. Not
that
much time.

Blondie says, “I—thank
you—I need to get to my job.”

I grunt. “Fuck that.”
Swinging my leg over the seat, I grab her around the waist and set
her on her feet. She looks up at me.

Fearful.

Fucking beau-tee-ful.
Wow
. I've never seen a pair of eyes that
green, that deep. I don't know what the fuck, but she wipes all the
bullshit swirling around in my tired brain for the
moment.

Her bottom lip trembles.
“I need this job.”

I shake my head. “Too
dangerous. That Blood's marked you. He thinks you're
his.”

Her chin lifts defiantly, and
I'm happy to see a glimpse of spirit. “I am
not
his. Vincent doesn't know me.
He—” She snaps her mouth shut, crossing her arms, and delicious
breasts sort of pop to the top of the shirt she's
wearing.

My dick gets
hard.

“Vincent, huh?” Rage
descends, chasing away my half-erection. She was lying after all,
she knows him. Fucking perfect. I grab her shoulders, mindful of
her wounded wrist. “He what?”

Her eyes go to fear
immediately, and it sucks to see that.

Noose’s timing couldn't be
better, and he rolls into the slot next to mine. He shuts off his
ride and swings around on the seat, takes a look at Blondie and
says, “Who the fuck is this?” he hikes his thumb at her, his eyes
moving from the top of her head to the bottom of her scuffed
heels.

“None of your business,
you hood!” she yells.

Perfect.

Noose stands.

Blondie cowers as his eyes
narrow on her. “She some sweet butt?” he asks, inspecting her like
an interesting worm.

“Does she look like one?”
I ask.

Noose shakes his head
slowly. “Nope.” A grin starts forming on his smug face.

“I am not—gah! A sweet
butt or whatever you're thinking I am.” She blushes.

I haven't seen an
honest-to-God blush in fucking forever.

Noose starts barking laughter.
When he can finally contain himself, I'm scowling.
“
This
,
I gotta hear.” His eyebrow quirks. “The sweet
butt who's not—she coming for pancakes?”

“No,” she says at the same
time I say, “Yes.”

We glare at each other.
She doesn't get it.

My strength of
will.

I didn't just step in a
pile of shit for nothing. I want to know what I sacrificed the club
for. And make no mistake, me taking a woman from a Blood, even one
that might not be his, wasn't an amicable move.

It’ll be seen as a move in
need of retaliation.

“My job—” she
begins.

“Fuck that,” Noose and I
say together.

He grins wider, clearly
loving the situation.

We bump knuckles, and I
tug her behind me. She comes quietly.

Feels kind of like the
calm before the storm to me.

Shannon

I'm getting out of this crazy situation the
second I can. But for now, I allow the scary stranger to tow me
behind him.

I'm no girl on a leash.

Vincent couldn't figure out how to make me
cooperate in the past.

Intimidation hasn't worked. Threats didn't
work.

His violence was effective in the moment.
But he's a criminal. He would have to kill me to make me comply.
I'm not moving my mom out of our house when she's at death's door.
Not happening.

I appreciate this guy saving me from Vincent.
His methods were similar to Vincent's, but somehow, when they’re
not used against me, I'm more charitable.

And I really appreciate the view of his hot
body. But these two are not going to push me, either. Waiting this
out is the only solution for the moment.

We cram into an elevator and begin to rise. Top
Shelf condos are for the rich. I've seen this condo complex while
walking to the surviving mom-and-pop store not too far from our
house. They'll eventually be run out by the Walmarts and the QFCs,
just like everything else.

Covertly, I check out the other biker. He's even
bigger than the guy who saved me. Not by much, though.

He catches me looking at him, and a brittle
smile flashes across stern features.

I shrink back.

“Noose won't hurt ya,” my savior says.

Right.
I bite back my laughter.

The elevator doors whisper open, and the men
step out. I follow hesitantly. There are only two doors on either
side of a long corridor laid with rich fabric carpeting in a tiny
geometric pattern in jewel tones of violet, scarlet, and
emerald.

“Neighbor,” Noose says, hiking a thumb at a
door. He moves to the other door and raps on the solid wood hard,
once.

I hear a little kid racing to the door,
footfalls like a herd of elephants. I smile.

“Aunt Rose!”

“Don't open it.” Noose says in a menacing
low-voiced command.

“Duh,” the boy says from the other side of the
door.

His smile is tight. “That's right. Good boy,
Charlie,” Noose mutters with a genuine grin of pride.

I frown. It's all too weird.

Noose leans against the door, fingers spreading
across the surface. “It's me, baby.”

His hands drop as the door opens, and a woman
about my age stands there, with a baby on her hip. Noose pushes his
way inside and grabs the young woman, sweeping her and the baby
against him.

“Noose!” she laughs.

He kisses her so thoroughly, I look away, cheeks
heating.

My savior smirks, rolling his light-blue eyes.
“Get a room, pervs.”

Noose pulls back. “Fuck off, Wring.” He leans in
for more, pecking and kissing her.

Wring.
I turn to look at him.

“Is that your name?”

He gives me a speculative glance. “Yeah.”

I shift my eyes to my shoes.

“Who is she?” the woman asks, giving me a
curious once-over.

I focus on the baby girl, while a boy who
appears to be about six years old races around.

We recognize each other at the same moment.

“Charlie!” I say in surprise.

“Miss Shannon!”

Wring turns to me, frowning. He appears so
tough, so scary. But not when he looks at me. “You know the
kid?”

I nod. “He's, ah, he's one of my kids for story
time.”

“
You're
Miss Shannon?” The woman's
smiling now.

“Yes.”

“Okay, who the fuck are you, and what's going
on?” Noose glowers.

“Noose,” the woman says and gets right up beside
him, transferring the baby to the other hip. She thwacks him on his
big bicep. “Stop being a butt. Can't you see she's freaked
out?”

Yeah.
Can't you see it
? I fold my arms,
giving out dirty looks to the two men like candy.

“Miss Shannon?” Charlie asks me quietly.

I sink, resting my butt on my heels. I smooth my
skirt over my knees and tuck the excess fabric under my butt. I
meet eyes that are as brown as the girl's and wrap my arms around
my shins. “Uh-huh.”

“Why weren't you at story time today?”

Great question. I wonder who filled in.

I wonder if I still have a job.
Tears
burn the back of my eyes. I rub them viciously.
No
crying.

“Again, who the fu”—the woman belts him
again—“are you?”

Wring stares at me, not saying a word.

“I'm sorry. Noose is being
rude
.” She
sticks out her hand.

I stand, taking it. We shake.

“I'm Rose, and this big lug is my husband,
Noose. You've met Charlie, and this beauty is Aria.”

The baby's beautiful, like her mom.

The little girl seems to know her name and coos.
Then she proceeds to wreck Noose's tough-guy image by grabbing at
the end of his hair.

“No, no, princess, don't pull Daddy's hair.”

I smile, suppressing a giggle at the Big Bad
Biker dude being put in his place by an infant. “I'm Shannon.” I
look down at my feet again. “I guess you know who I am.” I glance
up at Rose and include Charlie in the look. My inhale is sharp,
regretful. “This gang guy stopped me today and was hassling
me—”

“Hurting you,” Wring corrects.

I give him a sharp look, nodding at his honest
assessment.

I swallow hard, throat suddenly dry in response
to the memory of my fear. “He was.” Fighting the urge to rub my
aching wrist, I quickly look away. It occurs to me that I haven't
really used it, favoring that hand.

“Anyway, Wring here… he, uh… he punched him
pretty good and—”

“Oh
fuck
.” Noose’s mouth drops open, and
he whips his head in Wring's direction.

Wring grimaces. “Yeah. Couldn't stand it,
man.”

“Gotcha.” Noose shakes his head in
disbelief.

I give a helpless shrug. “So here I am, and I
missed work today because of him.” I can't finish.

“Pancakes?” Rose interjects, and I give her a
grateful look.

My mouth waters. I didn't have breakfast. I
don't most days. Giving in to hunger is a luxury. Usually, I just
wait until supper and have something. Mom’s meds tear up the lining
of her stomach if she doesn't take them with food.

“You hungry?” Wrings asks into the sudden
silence.

“Fuck yes, she is. Looks like a candidate for a
food funnel.” Noose grins, and Wring frowns.

Rose just shakes her head and begins to walk
off. “Follow me, Shannon.”

Charlie runs ahead of me, bouncing all the way
to the opposite end of the house. “Yay! Pancakes!”

“Lots of energy,” Rose comments in a dry
voice.

I stifle a smile. “Yes.”

Two separate huge pancake stacks are piled sky
high on a platter beside heated syrup and a dish of what looks like
real butter. A chilled pitcher holds orange juice.

I swallow past the lump of grateful in my
throat. “Wow, this is quite a spread.”

“Noose doesn't require much,” she says with
thick sarcasm.

“Food and fucking,” Noose replies nonchalantly,
and throws an arm around her neck. The baby squeals as Rose blushes
furiously.

I'm embarrassed for her, this crude guy. I glare
at him.

Then he leans way down, nuzzles her neck, and
kisses her temple. “She's fucking great at all that.”

He smiles at her like she's the most precious
thing in the world, and they touch foreheads.