Becky nodded. Okay, she got it.

Keeping people in the dark about club business was for their protection, as well as our own. I'd f.u.c.ked that up with Tina and look where it had gotten me and my brothers. I needed a woman who understood. Of course, I also needed a woman who wanted to f.u.c.k me.

"Come over tomorrow and we can watch the Wizard. Please?"

She was cute as a G.o.dd.a.m.n b.u.t.ton, but she knew what she wanted and she went after it. Too bad her mom wasn't the same way.

"Maybe. I don't know, Becks. I'll try." I smiled, but I hated giving her such a s.h.i.tty answer. "I gotta go. Can't be late for work."

Becky talked about dance cla.s.s and about me coming over tomorrow to watch The Wizard of Oz as they both followed me to the door. When I was turning to leave, Krista stopped.

"Hey." She took a sc.r.a.p of paper out of her pocket and handed it to me.

Robby's address. I just nodded and shoved the paper in my pockets. Now wasn't a time for promises. She didn't want to hear it and I didn't want to say it.

"See ya."

The auto shop was cleaner than most hospitals. A bright yellow Lambo was up on the rack and something German was idling in a corner. They were testing its exhaust, making sure it pa.s.sed smog.

"They gotta pa.s.s smog first time, every time," Tate explained. "If not, they start taking a closer look. Even though they're newer vehicles, if their electronics aren't tuned just right, the computer system will throw it back. We can't risk too many people looking at our paperwork."

Yeah, if someone looked closely at the vehicle's paperwork they might notice it was a forgery. A good one, but a forgery nonetheless. The cars, everything from the Lamborghini to antique Jags, came in on the boats. Tate and his greaseball at the docks got them through customs and then they came here, to this shop. The boys made sure they were all ready to go to get real paperwork through the state. Real plates, real pink slips, real f.u.c.king money all in Tate's hands.

"Pretty slick." He introduced me to a few of the guys working. But when we got back out into the parking lot, I had to ask. "So the cars, are they hot? Where do they come from?"

Tate shrugged. "Some stolen, some are purchased. Depending on the vehicle and the work needed, the seller might get a higher price selling to someone in the US. Some cars are just sorta created from the leftovers from crashes. But they look real nice by the time they get to us. We don't do much work. Just help them avoid taxes and customs and create the paperwork to get them the registration process.

"So what do you think?" Tate asked. "We gonna pa.s.s the cash flow requirement to get into the Horde?"

I nodded. "s.h.i.t yeah. You guys got that covered. We just have to get that leak taken care of with the cash. That's your only problem."

"That and getting everybody on board." Tate strapped on his helmet.

Yeah, that was a huge problem.

"When are they coming back?" I asked. Having the president of the club all to myself and not having to deal with club politics had made this f.u.c.king easy as h.e.l.l. But the guys had to be on board with the patch-over or else the deal was screwed. It was starting to make me a little uneasy that they were still on a run.

"Couple of days." He sat on his bike. "They were delivering some vehicles to a new customer in Portland. Oregon's smog laws are a little trickier. I wanted the guys on hand in case the cars didn't pa.s.s through the DMV."

"Hey, you want to ask Krista about the missing cash? See how she responds?" It messed up my f.u.c.king insides to even admit that I had done it last night at dinner. "I talked to her a little about it, but she seemed clean."

Tate shrugged. "Next time I see her, I'll bring it up. I don't think she has a hand in this, do you?"

"No." I fished the address she'd given me out of my pocket and handed it to Tate. "You know where this is?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I got a general idea. Bunch of flophouses on that block. You'd better not need a score." He raised an eyebrow.

f.u.c.k. I stared back. Just a little challenge. The Demon Horde could be a mean bunch of a.s.sholes, myself included. But it was a well-known requirement that you had to be clean. Pot was accepted, but nothing harder. We got drug tests to prove it.

"I'm gonna pay Krista's ex a visit. He roughed her up a little."

Tate blew out a breath. "So she's your old lady? You responsible for her?"

Yes.

No.

f.u.c.k.

"She's a friend. I wanna help her out." That was the only thing I could come up with. I jerked on my helmet and sat on my bike. "You gonna come with me? If I'm headed to a huge drug den, I'd love some backup."

Tate handed me back the address and started his engine. "Just remember, son, if the rest of the guys see you acting like her man, then you throw her over, it's gonna get ugly. You gotta make up your mind. But I'll back you up. That f.u.c.ker needs another beating."

The house wasn't far away from the chop shop. Tate followed me up the front stoop and I banged on the door.

Robby answered. Higher than a motherf.u.c.king kite. "Well, h.e.l.loooooooo! You got my money?"

This was going to be easy. I grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him down the front step. I'd roughed up enough crackheads to know that you always take them outside. No telling what kinda s.h.i.t you'll pick up inside their hole.

"Why are you shaking Krista down for cash?" I left my arms loose at my sides in case he decided to take a swing. But the f.u.c.ker was too interested in dancing.

"She owes me." He opened his arms wide and started to turn in a circle. "I paid her f.u.c.king rent when she got fat and had a kid. She said, 'He loves me for me.'" He pitched his voice real high and waved his arms over his head. "I want my moneeeeeeeey."

I punched him in the gut. He was too high to reason with and I was sick of listening to his s.h.i.t. I clocked him a few more times on the face so he would remember this when he sobered up. Then I picked him up by a handful of his T-shirt.

"Stay away from her. Do you understand me? No asking for money, no trying to see Becky. Just stay outta her life."

His eyes rolled back in his head. "He loves me for meeeeeeeeeeeeee," he sang.

I dropped him on the gra.s.s and left him there.

He loves me for me.

I kept replaying that phrase in my head on the way home and then later in bed as I stared up at the ceiling. Did Krista say that? Did she tell Robby that I loved her?

Did I love her?

When I first sat on my dad's bike, he would always tell me, "Don't look at something if you don't want to hit it." If you looked at something on the side of the road, you would automatically steer the bike in the direction that you were looking. So, the best way to avoid a wreck was to keep staring straight ahead. Eyes on the road.

I couldn't stop looking at Krista. I had tried, but I just couldn't.

Tate was right. I needed to figure my s.h.i.t out, and fast. I could try and hide things from Tate for a while, but I couldn't hide things from an entire motorcycle club. If I was gonna act like her man, I had to commit. I had to put Krista on the back of my bike so I could keep my eyes on the d.a.m.n road.

Chapter Thirteen.

Krista It was the middle of the night and the rest of world was sleeping, but for me, sleep was not even on the horizon-I still wasn't used to working days. I had already applied to every single job posting I could find and now I was just sitting in a kitchen chair on my porch with a bottle of glue, trying to repair a flowerpot. A car pulled into the apartment lot. Two headlights-I had been hoping for one.

I was pathetic. Sitting here, counting headlights. Hoping for what, exactly? A biker to come over at two in the morning? Tell me that he'd beaten up my ex like I had asked and then come straight over to my place to profess his love?

Too bad I didn't have any alcohol in the house. I needed to forget my life for a while.

The two headlights turned out to be Janice coming home from her shift. She was still wearing her outfit from the club, a tiny black sequined dress with high heels. As always, her hair was teased with every strand in place and her makeup was perfect. Even when I was stripping there, I never understood how she could look so put together after a night of work.

"Krista, honey. Shouldn't you be in bed?" Her thick acrylic heels echoed on the stairs. "Waiting for your knight in leather to show up?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, I worked a day shift. The guys are on a run."

Janice leaned against the railing, ignoring her fancy dress and tall shoes. She always seemed so at home in her outfits. "If you wanna come and serve drinks or something while the guys are gone, you can. We're short-handed. You interested?"

I'd waitressed and stripped at the club as a fill-in many times. Two weeks ago, I would have jumped at the chance.

"No thanks." I smiled. "We're doing okay for now. I know one of the jobs I applied for will come through."

"You want him. Don't sit around and wait for him. Don't let your fear get in the way."

Under the fluorescent lights, I could see the crow's-feet that had escaped Janice's eyeliner. The tiny smile brackets that framed her shiny lips. I realized that she was getting old. And tired.

"Did you ever let your fear get in the way?" I asked.

Janice took off her heels. "Every day." She blew me a kiss as she walked away.

I got Becky to school and did some grocery shopping before I made it to the club. Honestly, I had no idea what I had left to clean. Kitchen, rooms, pool tables, it was all sparkling. The guys had been gone a long time. Today was supposed to be my day off, but and I could use the extra cash. Besides, I would have missed Colt. He'd only been here a few days, but I couldn't remember what it had been like without him.

We kept the unopened bottles on the shelves under the bar. Crouching down, I surveyed the liquor. Time to get organized. Absinthe on the left, whiskey on the right. I sat on the floor and started alphabetize. I tried to concentrate, but I just couldn't get out of my own head.

I had pushed Colt away so many times that there was a good chance he didn't want me anymore. But I had to try. I couldn't just give up on it. I needed to show him that I was committed to trying to make something work between us.

I needed to ask him out on a date.

It was my job to ask guys if they wanted to have s.e.x, then negotiate a price. Asking someone on a date should be easy, right?

I thought back to high school. I'd never asked anyone out. Robby just sort of a.s.sumed we were dating and so we were. Then, after Robby, I started turning tricks and there was no more dating.

All I had to do was ask. It couldn't be that hard.

I was still sitting on the concrete floor when I heard the front door open and footsteps cross over to the bar.

"Right, well. Tell Hawkeye to call me when he gets back."

It was Colt, on the phone.

"Yeah, these guys look legit. Everything the prez has been saying checked out so far."

s.h.i.t. Club business. I popped up and set a bottle on the bar top near his elbow. I didn't want to hear anything that I shouldn't. That was how they lost the last girl who had been in my place.

He nodded at me and ended his call.

"Sorry, I was working under the bar. I didn't mean to hear anything."

He smiled. "No worries, okay? Hey, I wanted to talk about something."

"Good, thanks." I cringed. That was the wrong response. I flirted with guys all the time, and that was the best I could come up with. If I was going to follow Janice's advice and go after him, I needed to do better than that.

Then I saw his knuckles and all thoughts of flirting flew out the door. They were sc.r.a.ped, he'd been in a fight. Our eyes met and I knew. He'd gone to see Robby. "You want some ointment?"

"Sure." He pulled up a barstool. "Not sure I got through to him." He frowned. "He was high as h.e.l.l and I doubt he'll remember much."

That was pretty standard for Robby. I focused on holding his hand and dabbing ointment on his knuckles. "I appreciate that you talked to him."

He squeezed my hand. "I'm sorry that you have to deal with that a.s.shole. I can go back again tonight. See if he's sober."

I shook my head. "Robby won't be sober, there's no point." I took a deep breath. It was now or never. "You could come over for dinner tonight. I'm making a ca.s.serole. It'll be chicken and noodle and milk and b.u.t.ter and cheese."

I realized I was rattling off the list of ingredients, so I tried again. "I thought we could have dinner and watch The Wizard of Oz. Becky's been asking." s.h.i.t. Maybe he didn't want to hang out with a kid all night. "I mean, she'll probably fall asleep real soon and you can head out early if you want."

Colt raised his eyebrows and I shut up. This was much harder when you actually liked the guy. His knuckles were glistening with too much ointment. Dropping his hands, I shoved the gauze and medicine tube back in the first aid kit.

As I was trying to smash the lid closed, Colt grabbed my hands. "Krista?"

I was afraid to look up. I had just told him my ca.s.serole recipe and invited him to watch a children's movie with my daughter. The evening sounded awful, even to me.

"Are you asking me out?"

His eyes were intense, as if he could see into my heart. I couldn't bear to open my mouth and have something stupid come out again, so I just nodded.

"What's changed?" He squeezed my fingers a couple of times. "The other day you pushed me away when I went to touch you. If we start to date, eventually I'm gonna want to do that again. You gotta be straight with me. Did someone hurt you? Robby?"

He was asking me if I had been raped. That was why he thought I had pushed him away?

I shook my head. "Oh, no, no. Nothing like that."

He relaxed his grip on my fingers and waited.

Colt deserved an explanation. I had changed my mind and dragged him along for days now. I had to say something, the truth.

"I just realized last night that I was more scared of losing a chance with you than I am of losing my job or changing my life." I searched for the words, but the only thing I could think of was my grandma's house. "I'm more afraid of not accomplishing my dreams than of losing what I've built."

Colt untangled our fingers and ran his hand over his buzz cut. He frowned at me.