Bitter Kind of Love: Prairie Devils MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (6 page)

I tipped the cup 'til she took it herself, gulping down everything I gave her. Good.

Later, I'd make sure she got cleaned up too. I was sure I could scrounge up some fresh clothes from one of the whores or somebody's old lady, maybe Blaze's girl, Saffron. Alice was shorter than her, but about the same build. Looked like she'd have perfect, full curves if only she wasn't so damned starved.

“There,” she grumbled, clanking the cup on the nightstand. “Empty. Do I get to sleep now, or are you going to watch me do that too?”

“No. There's a meeting I need to go to actually,” I said. “I'll check up on you in a few.”

“Whatever,” she said, collapsing on her side. “Just turn out the light.”

My eyebrow quirked as I made my way out. Anybody deserved to have some attitude after being imprisoned in a fucking closet, but I was surprised the change was so sudden. Where had that scared, whimpering little thing I pulled into my arms gone?

Whatever was right. I had plenty of time to figure this shit out later. I closed the door behind me and walked down the hall to meet Blaze. Didn't doubt the Prez was already fuming and waiting for all our asses in the meeting room.

Church lasted fucking forever. I shoved it along as best as I could, listening to Blaze vent all the ways he was gonna fuck up the Rams if the excuses they'd made for him didn't check out. Tank's mind was somewhere else.

Our huge Sargent-at-Arms had only recently pulled his ass outta the funk he'd been in for months. The drama between him and Em had been going on fucking forever, but it finally seemed to be going his way.

The other brothers sat with us too, Moose and Reb. Everybody except Roller and the two prospects, who'd followed one of our Dakota boys from mother charter out West on a special shipping run.

“You really believe them, Prez?” Moose asked, stroking his thick beard.

“Not for a goddamned second. That said, we couldn't turn up anything to prove Block was lying through his teeth,” he growled, twisting his gavel in one hand.

He wasn't the only one who had thunder rolling through his system. I didn't give a shit whether the Rams were proven liars or not.

So what if the marks on Mickey's body corroborated their bullshit story? They were bullshitting us about the girl one way or another. What kinda sick fucks lock a young girl up with a dead body for days?

Too many unanswered questions. Too many roads leading back to the same damned place: any thought of seriously patching the Pagan Rams over as a support club was ludicrous. They deserved to be disbanded for the shit they'd done, preferably starting with their shriveled little dicks.

“How about that crap the guys pulled out of their backroom after burying Mickey? Anything good? I'll look it over myself if it hasn't been checked yet.” I volunteered to take on the files, knowing how much Blaze and the other guys hated paperwork.

“Don't bother, VP.” Moose shook his head at me. “Nothing too useful. Just a big fat folder full of old inventories. Looks like some routes too. Just a big ass map of the whole damned country with lines going through it. Had himself a sketch book too.”

“Sketch book?” Blaze snorted. “What the fuck was he drawing? Directions for the numbskulls in that fucking clubhouse about how to fire the shit he was selling? Guess it's been twenty years since those mustangs fired a weapon. Don't now why Mickey was looking to do business with them at all.”

Pissed as I was, Blaze's sarcasm made me smile. The Rams were fucking dumbasses, no two ways about it. Made it even harder to believe they'd managed to take out Mickey in a sour bar brawl and tortured the poor girl sleeping in my room.

“No, Prez. It's like...fantasy shit.” Reb smacked his lips, chewing his tobacco. “Elves, castles, fairies...I dunno. See for yourself.”

He reached into the pile of papers in the middle and grabbed the tall booklet. I intercepted it before it got to Blaze, quickly fanning my fingers through the pages.

One look at the drawings told me this shit wasn't drawn by a salty old smuggler like Mickey James. No way, no how. It had to belong to Alice.

“He's right,” I said. “I don't think this is Mickey's either. The writing's real girly. Don't see blood or guns or naked ladies...”

The sketches were really pretty good. No, maybe not ready for Hollywood story boards or book covers. Still, it looked like they'd been done by somebody who'd have a shot at it one day if they just kept going.

I was flipping through the back pages when Blaze's gavel came down. I blinked, looked up, and flashed my trademark smile at his angry ass.

“What the fuck, Sting?” Blaze growled. “This isn't an art gallery. Put that shit away and let's chew on the facts that are useful.”

“You sure we got any, Prez?” That really sent blood into his face. I straightened up. “We're not gonna know shit 'til I talk to Alice. She's the only one who lived with them and might've seen what went down with Mickey. Just give her a chance to rest, clean up, and I'll talk to her tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Tank said, leaning in his chair, looking at Blaze. “The VP's right, boss. We don't know much. Even if we did, we've got two choices: make these assholes shape up, patch them in, and hope to hell they never bothered us again. Or else we send them packing with a sweep of Satan's Scythe and destroy every last Pagan Rams emblem we can find.”

Blaze looked like he was ready to turn the table over. He was used to getting shit from me – what else was a VP in an MC like this one good for? – but taking it from Tank and the other brothers sealed the deal.

“All right, all right,” he said, shaking his head. “We'll wait and see. Stinger, I'm counting on
you
to give us something we can use. Don't think I need a vote to know everybody in this room would rather chase the Pagan Rams off our turf and into Grizzlies' territory rather than deal with their nasty asses again. Or just kill the motherfuckers cold. Whatever we do, I need
something
to make sure we're not making a mistake. I'm not risking this club's blood again without a damned good reason
.
”

“I'll have Em check her too,” Tank said, his face lightning up when he said the nurse's name.

I studied his expression. Had a feeling the fucking guy was finally getting his dick wet after breaking the glacier between them. He sure as hell wasn't sulking around and drinking himself into a stupor like he'd been during all the months when Em gave him the cold shoulder.

“How 'bout tomorrow?” I asked. “Alice really needs her rest. She's tired as all hell.”

“No,” Blaze said, tapping his gavel a couple times when I gave him an angry look. “Em's already here waiting for us to finish up. The sooner we move on this shit, the quicker it's over. And I want
all
threats to this club wrapped up before winter. Then we've just got our shipments from the Dakota boys to deal with.”

“That and your wedding, Prez.” Moose smiled.

Blaze cocked his head and let his anger taper. The senior brother's words were the goddamned truth, and it only caused my rage to ratchet up a couple notches.

Blaze and his old lady were due to get married in Reno early next year. Wasn't hard to see those bells were ringing loud in his mind since he'd claimed her and proposed, but all I heard was bullshit if it caused him to make Alice suffer more.

“Come on, man.” Reb said, sensing the invisible smoke rolling off me. “It's just a little check up. Em's fast and efficient, and you know it. She'll finish the girl in no time and send her back to you.”

“Whatever. Let me get her up.” I was rising from my chair before Blaze banged the gavel, bringing the session to a close.

Blaze shot me a warning look. The Prez took a lot of lip when it mattered, but he and I both knew I was damned close to shitting on his authority. I waited by the door 'til the other brothers began to rise.

Fuck it. I was out the door before he could get in my face, heading straight for the girl, the only one in this clubhouse who gave a damn beyond pumping her for info.

The checkup went fast. I was in the room with Blaze while Em did her thing. Tank wandered in a few minutes after us, and I instantly sensed some tension between him and Nurse Blondie.

God. Damn. It. Apparently, fucking hadn't resolved shit between them in any lasting way.

Not my business. Not my problem,
I thought, turning my full attention to Alice.

I watched Em's gold locks bobbing as she checked her over. Helluva contrast against my girl's jet black hair, and I knew damned well what I preferred.

She's not your girl,
I had to remind myself.
Not yet, anyway.

Fuck, what was I thinking? Probably not ever. I wasn't sure what the hell was happening to my brain since I got her little hands around me on my bike, but it was freaking me the fuck out.

So did the bombshell that dropped next. Alice insisted she couldn't remember shit except her name, and it didn't look like she was fucking around. My jaw was left hanging, along with everybody else's.

Em broke out a bright light and beamed it into her pretty eyes. I tightened my jaw, wondering when she'd finally be through with this bullshit.

“Pupils are normal. No sign of brain damage.” Emma paused, glancing at Blaze. “What is it you want to know?”

“What the fuck really happened the night she showed up at the Rams' clubhouse. She says she doesn't remember shit,” Blaze said, pacing the room. “Is it possible she's fucked up her head, nurse? Or is she fucking us instead?”

Shit!
My blood went from lukewarm to molten lava in a nano-second. My fists twitched at my sides.

I wasn't gonna clock my hotheaded Prez in the jaw for the same crap he gave everybody else, but it sure was tempting.

What the fuck was he thinking? The girl didn't have a single reason to yank our dicks around in the wrong direction.

The evilest warning look I ever summoned went his way while I wondered why Blaze's doubt against her felt the same as if he'd just spat on me, a fellow brother and his own VP. I shouldn't be taking this shit so personally, and I knew it. The reptile part of my brain refused to get the message.

I listened intently as Em explained that amnesia wasn't unheard of after suffering something really tragic. When she said it was probably a mental block instead of brain damage, the boil in my veins popped. Every muscle I had flexed, ready to march out to my bike and roar out to the Rams' place myself, not coming home 'til I cleaned their asses up good.

Blaze and the nurse ran through who Alice could be, wondering if she was Mickey's old lady or his slut. Maybe he liked them young.

Fuck!
Thinking about her wrapped around that dead asshole's body – hell, any asshole, alive or dead – threatened to melt me from the inside out.

I stepped up when Em moved aside, throwing an arm around Alice's neck and helping her off the table. Knew damned well it was possessive too, but I didn't fucking care.

“Don't think she's that kinda girl, Prez,” I said, trying as hard as I could to hide my rage. “She's not a club slut. I can spot those bitches from a mile away, and this isn't one.”

“Yeah, yeah, you're right about that...” Blaze looked amused and frustrated as hell. “Whatever, bro. Just get her the fuck outta here and find the girl a room.”

Done, asshole,
I thought. Didn't bother saying goodbye as I took her by the hand and led her away, back to my room, the only place here where she belonged.

“You sure you got enough to eat earlier?” I asked, focusing my eyes on hers when we were alone behind the door.

“Yeah. Can I finally sleep, or are there are going to be more interruptions?”

“Hell no,” I growled. “Lay down and rest as long as you fucking want. I'll wait here. Anybody who knocks at this door in the next hour's gonna get a fist to his face.”

I was dead serious. She needed to get her head straight, dammit, and I intended to keep my secret threat, even if Blaze came sniffing around for more information. I'd had it up to hear with his shit. I'd rather risk a beat down from all my brothers than deal with him twisting Alice's arm again like a total asshole.

Fortunately, it never came to that. The other brothers had plenty other business to take care of. I should've been outside tuning up my bike with winter creeping closer, but I couldn't do shit with this angel laid out in front of me, shaking a little as she nodded off.

“Sweet dreams, baby.” I pulled a blanket over her, wishing I had something nicer than this tattered old thing.

I must've stood there at her bedside for another ten minutes, just watching, studying her. My cock kept his cool for once while I waited for her to stop shaking. The boys hadn't fired up the furnace yet in the clubhouse, and it was too damned cold for her bones. Winter was right around the corner.

The blanket wasn't doing shit. With a heavy sigh, I rolled my cut off my shoulders and climbed in next to her, throwing one arm around her shoulder and pulling her close.

Christ, she felt amazing when I spooned myself over her, covering every curve with my body, hellbent on keeping her free and clear of a world that wanted to keep piling its shit on her.

Having Alice up against me was better than anything I could think of to keep warm in this clubhouse. Better than a few shots of Jack. Better than fucking Marianne and Sangria or any new whores at the same time.

Better than anything and everything except for one wicked, insane desire I couldn't ignore.

Just one thing would've beat this: tearing off the blanket, stripping down her pants, and sinking into the soft warm perfection between her legs...

Shit, just thinking about it turned my blood to steam, heavy magma heading south real fucking fast. It hit my dick over and over and over in heavy waves. It ached because I wanted to fuck her, and then hurt like hell because I couldn't.

Aching for women wasn't something I was used to – not for long, anyway, because I always took what I wanted in the past. Pussy comes easy when you're big, fit, tattooed, and brought up to take the world by its fucked up horns.