Renegade: Desert Knights MC (4 page)

And again, she doesn’t wait. As I’m screaming at her, she has managed to get the needle in my skin and her first stitch in. I grab the neck of my shirt and bite down, letting the pain flow through my teeth. She finishes quickly, admiring her handiwork by wrapping her fingers into mine and turning the hand over in the light. Her delicate skin feels warm in mine, as if she fits like a pillow.

“Not bad for a girl who’s had four shots and a quarter of a bottle.” With a devilish glance, she begins wrapping my hand in the bandana. To tie it, she lowers her head to my hand and uses her teeth to pull the last strand through the knot. I feel her creamy lips press against my skin as she finishes, and every part of my body becomes goosebumps.

Without another word, she stands and turns, walking back towards her friend who has been eyeing us from across the patio as if she is her keeper. When Tory makes it back to her, she pulls her hood up over her head again and turns her back towards the large, brown fence, her back facing the crowd.

A loud bang causes her to jump, as I hear the screen door slam. Everyone goes silent, as they look at one another, trying to figure out just whom Brandon is screaming at. And inside, my heart sinks, as I watch him grab the girl who just bandaged my hand and push her up against the wall. His arm pins her in place, as her feet and arms flail.

As her hood falls to the side, I start to realize
why
exactly I thought she looked familiar. She is the spitting image of her brother, the Desert Knight’s new vice president and road captain.

Chapter 4: In the Daylight

The scene spins and twists as I try to keep my focus on my brother and his grip around my neck. This is not what I had expected. Sure, I thought that I might get caught and kicked out, but I didn’t think it would go down like this…with my brother nearly taking my life as a crowd of strangers watch helplessly.

“Brandon, please...” I plead, my voice barely squeaking out, as he presses harder down on my windpipe. “Please, let me explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain, Tory! Dad told you not to go this party, and you disobeyed him. I bet you want to be a skank just like your friend. Looking at how you’re dressed, you’re just asking for it, aren’t you?” Spit dribbles out of his mouth, as he growls like the vicious animal he is.

He’s always been this way, ever since he realized who he was—the Walsh prince…groomed to be large and in charge, and it didn’t matter whom he had to take down or bully to get to what he wanted. And that included me. When he got to high school, it was as if I was just another one of his objects to boss around. Tonight was no different—though it felt like when he was around his minions, it only made his hate towards me grow worse.

“I’ll go. I’ll go. I promise. Just put me down, and I’ll go.” It’s the only thing I can offer him short of getting down on my knees and shaming myself.

“Like hell you will! I’m going back inside, but if I find you and your whore friend here when I get back in ten minutes, I’ll personally escort both of you out by your hair. And I don’t care who sees me do it either.” His hand grabs at the bunch of hair nearest my shoulder, and he pulls my head down so that I am bowing to him. He lets go of his grip just so that I fall into a heap on a pile of stones and gravel.

I can’t bear to look up. Instead, I quietly ask, “Are you going to tell dad about me?”

“Not unless you don’t go.”

I wait till his black combat boots pass me to stand. The booze hits me fast, as I stumble further into the rock pile. My skin scratches against the pavement. I’ve never been in such a strange state of pain, panic, and confusion. And the arm around my waist, slowly pulling me up isn’t helping either.

“Why didn’t you tell me who you were?” It’s that guy again… Anton. His long, tattooed arm is basically propping me up against the fence so that my head droops back against the post. I’m sturdy where I am, but he hasn’t let go just yet. And truth be told, I don’t want him to. I just want to stare into those topaz eyes and touch the wavy strand of amber hair that almost makes him glow in the moonlight. But I can’t. I heard Brandon’s warning. I only have a few minutes to get the hell out of here before my problems get even worse.

“I…I didn’t think it mattered who the fuck I am,” I reply hastily, brushing his strong, meaty grip off of me. I take another step forward, as I reach my hand in the air to gesture and say, “Where is April? She’s my ride!”

I feel myself tumbling back down to the ground before my body actually moves. And then those two hands keeping me in my place come to my rescue. He’s good. Real good. It’s getting harder and harder to leave him.

“She ran off with Derek when your brother got here. They’re probably long gone.”

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” I cry out, not caring about causing a scene anymore. It’s not as if I’m trying to keep my identity under wraps anymore. “How am I supposed to get home now? Is there a cab or something I can take from here?”

I already know the answer. The headquarters for the Desert Knights isn’t exactly located in the safest part of Garland, California. The warehouse was once an actual booming business when manufacturing was big nearly twenty years ago, but my father bought it after the recession, knowing that if his enemies came looking for him, they wouldn’t have guessed he’d be in the deserted button factory with a few busted out window and a large fenced-in parking lot. Plus, it’s located in a tiny industrial area where the only people coming here after dark are criminals, dealers, and the occasional ironworker from down the street. You couldn’t pay a taxi driver enough money to risk serving this part of the neighborhood. 

“I’m going to take you home.” Anton looks at me with that long jaw of his jutting out, as if it pains him to say it.

“Like hell you are. I am not going home with you tonight, buddy. That’s the last thing on my mind.” Well, that’s a lie. I will admit that since I spotted him and his broken-glass-infused hand, all I could imagine was him, tossing me onto a bed and doing me every which way I could think of. By the looks of the curves of his biceps and his long, lean legs, he could certainly take my virginity and then some.

“That’s not what I mean.” He looks back towards the open door leading into the warehouse. “You need to get out of here, and I need to go as well. Your ride is gone, and you’re way too drunk to trust anyone else. I’m your only option, princess.”

“Don’t call me that!” I ignore everything he just said and walk towards the makeshift bar in the corner of the patio. I grab a shot that’s waiting to be drunk and throw it back. The liquid causes my pulse to race and my face to blush. The verdict is in, and it says that I am a terrible drinker. Still, that isn’t going to stop me.

“Stop that!” A hand flies in my view before I can grab another. “Take this instead.” Anton thrusts a glass of clear liquid in my face. I shrug, as I drink it down quickly.

My stomach turns, as I spit some of it back up. “Ugh! What was that?”

“Water. You need it.” He reaches down and opens one of the many large, red coolers. He pulls out a water bottle and places it in my hand. “Take this, too. I’m not going to have you barf all over my back as I ride. I’m not into that.”

“Well,” I try to make some kind of witty comeback, “I’m not into you! So la-di-da!”

He chuckles loudly, as his bright face goes from concerned to—at least—amused. I can’t help but smile back, too. The tension between us has to break.

“If I go with you,” I ask cautiously, “do you promise to not try anything? I’m not that kind of girl.”

He bows down at the waist so that his face is directly in front of mine, as he promises sincerely, “And, believe it or not, I’m not that kind of guy.”

“That’s yet to be seen… damn it!” In the corner of my eye, I see my brother walking towards the outside door. He’s flanked by several of his goonish friends as they chat him up. I hide behind Anton’s massive frame as we both start to move towards the side of the building that leads up to the front parking lot.

Anton’s bike is jet black. Black on black on black, to be exact. It looks like it’s straight out of an action movie. When I see it, I can’t help but ask, “Is that yours?”

“Yeah. It’s my show bike. My other one…” He slows his words, as he rubs a hand to the back of his neck nervously. I get the feeling that I am not going to get a straight answer from him. “The one I usually drive around is getting some repairs done.”

I purse my lips, as I head straight for the bucket seat. I hitch my leg over the side, instantly regretting the tight jeans. He stares at me with eyes that gloss and glare, as I pat the seat in front of me with the palm of my hand. “I like this one.” He pauses, taking me in. I can practically feel his eyes tracing me from the ankle, to the thigh, past my ass, and onto my tits.

I blush and turn away back towards where I hear my brother’s voice shout at someone unknown person. Anton hears it as well and wastes no time jumping into the driver’s space. The engine roars violently before I feel the jolt of the wheels taking off from under me. It’s not till we’re out onto the main streets of town, far from the warehouse, that he turns his head slightly to ask, “Where’s home?”

“Nowhere,” I answer nonchalantly. I’m more focused on the road and streetlights spinning together in a haze. Riding drunk is not something I could ever get used to.

“Seriously. What’s your address?”

I know I should answer. I know that not going home is basically a death sentence. But I can’t do it. I can’t go back there. We pass the last turn to my home before I respond, “Take me somewhere, anywhere else. I can’t go home right now.”

He shouts back at me over the noise of his bike, “Tory, your dad and brother will kill me if I don’t take you home.”

“What do you think they’re going to do me when I do get home? Please, Anton. I don’t care where we go. I just can’t go back there tonight.” The words come out before I can stop them. But they’re the truth. I’ve never broken a rule like this before. I’ve never disobeyed. I have always managed to stay on the good side of my dad’s thin gray line. Now I’ve gone and crossed a point of no return.

I can feel the bike swerve slightly as he goes silent. We pass by a few stoplights and street signs that I don’t exactly recognize. It isn’t until we pull into a small apartment complex that I hear him say, “Fine. I’ll keep you here in my apartment tonight, but only because you’re drunk as hell.”

“What a gentleman,” I answer. “I owe you one.”

“You owe me a life when your daddy finds out.”

“I can’t promise you that.”

“Then you’ll just have to make up for it in other ways.” I can practically feel his chest heave against mine as he laughs to himself. Little does he know that I am not that kind of girl. No matter what he thought before, I was not giving him any part of me just because he did what I asked and kept me from facing my daddy.

Anton dismounts from his bike first and then offers his uninjured hand to me. He practically has to pull me off the bike, as I struggle to find the ground under my feet. Somehow, the ride has made my state so much worse, and I find myself getting more and more tired and worn down. All I can think about is falling back into my cotton candy pink bed and waking up to big glass of water and some aspirin.

But instead, I’m walking down a long corridor with a man I just met. His hand is grasped firmly around my waist, and he’s practically pulling me towards a door I’ve never entered. This is when my red light for danger should be flashing, but I can’t make myself call out. This all seems somewhat right and okay with me.

Anton’s apartment is warm and bright. It’s not exactly what I would expect from a Desert Knight. A large bed and a dresser are in the middle of the room. A two-person table is off in the kitchen area, and a couch is the only other seating area, but it’s on the far end of the room. I pick the bed, my hands reaching for it until I fall back with a thud.

He lingers above me for a long while not saying anything. I can tell he’s unsure what to do. Instead, he reaches down and grabs at my ankles. The shock of him touching me sends me flying upwards. But to my shock, he doesn’t linger. Instead, he slowly takes off my shoes and looks up at me sheepishly. “Sorry. I hate shoes on my bed.”

“Oh. Wow. Okay.” I lie back down slowly, trying to figure this guy out. Here’s a man who could overpower me in a second. I’m in no state to fight back. But instead he’s concerned about shoes on his bed? Whom the hell did I trust myself with? The question slips out of my mouth before I can stop myself. “Anton, why are you doing this?”   

I feel him lie gently on the bed next to me, his body pushing down on the thin mattress. I roll myself over to face him, finally seeing the man who basically rescued me. Two freckles dot his long nose, and the crinkle in his forehead pushes further into itself as he smiles awkwardly. “I, well, don’t know. I guess it’s because you bandaged me up.”

He holds his bandana-covered hand out for me to see. I pull myself up to examine it closer. Slowly unwrapping it, I check the wound. The hot pink thread probably wasn’t my best choice, but it isn’t bleeding, and it’s only slightly red. I can’t help but be proud of my work. The other vet techs have nothing on me when it comes to stitching.

I know I’ve been staring at the hand too long. I can feel the silence growing, as we both become speechless. I look back down at him to see those ocean eyes peering at me. His teeth bite down slightly on the pink, crackled lips. I take a deep breath before lowering my head towards his, and to my surprise, he finds my mouth before I can find his. Our lips touch and part, pressing into one another.

His battered hand reaches around my neck and through my hair, and I move myself closer to him so that my own hand rests on his chest and our hips touch. The heat between our bodies builds, as our kisses speed up. I need to come up for air, but I can’t make myself let go of him. Every movement of his mouth is just deeper, more urgent.