Burn: Outlaw Romance (Hotter Than Hell Book 3) Page 10

  For the first time, her eyes crinkle with laughter and her lips twitch. “Well there is dog fucker but I’m saving that one.”

  I think about that before asking, “What the hell does that have to do with being white?”

  She bites her lip and I know she’s doing her best to keep from smiling. It’s so fucking sexy. “Didn’t you know that bestiality porn is all done by white dudes?”

  I almost spit out my drink. “You shittin’ me and how the fuck would you know that? Don’t tell me you’re into that shit.” God, I hope not. My dick was getting a charge out of this conversation and now it’s wilting faster than picked daisies.

  She innocently blinks her long eyelashes. “No. You may not have noticed but my skin is a nice brown tone. That keeps me from fucking sheep.” Her smile breaks through and I want nothing more than to kiss her. No… devour her. “It rather sucks that there aren’t more derogatory descriptive white slams,” she continues. “Your people have no problem finding terms for anyone without pasty skin.”

  Her kind, my kind. “Why does there need to be a kind?” I ask because I’m truly interested in her answer.

  Her laugh is bitter, the smile disappears, and her voice goes tight. “You’re the president of a skinhead motorcycle gang and you have the balls to ask me that?”

  I look out over the parking lot and gaze at the desert hills to the south. Another block or two north and pine trees take over. Payson is a mountain town around five thousand feet above sea level. Peach City is at three thousand and it’s much hotter. I bring my focus back to Sofia. I’ve never explained myself to anyone. It’s not a pretty story and there are parts that I keep deeply buried. “First: We’re a club, not a gang. And second: What do you think would have happened to you yesterday if you tried to kill Fox?” I refuse to call that piece of shit her father.

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. Hopefully I wouldn’t have missed.” I hear the resolve in her voice.

  “He was a mean son of a bitch and you look nothing like him. Wouldn’t have mattered anyway. He’d have killed you. Slit your throat most likely. No chance he would have passed you around to the men because they wouldn’t stick their dick in your Latina pussy.” She doesn’t look angry, just curious, so I continue. “Not that they wouldn’t want to. It’s a nice pussy,” I say trying to lighten the mood. She doesn’t look away and her tight expression stays in place. It was a poor joke but I’ll admit she flusters me. “The brothers followed Fox because he brought them together and offered protection as long as they lived by his rules. He was no good for them... us. I’m trying to change that. It won’t happen overnight. I can’t erase years of segregation and hatred in a day or even a week.” I clench my teeth and get to the heart of the problem. “You and your vengeance, or whatever you want to call it, almost ruined everything.”

  Before she can respond, a teenage waitress on roller skates delivers our food. I pay with cash and give her a five dollar tip. Her eyes light up and she thanks me with a shy smile before asking if there’s anything else we need before she heads back in.

  Sofia takes a long sip from her drink and rips into her egg sandwich. “Change how?” she asks after two bites.

  I enjoy the taste of my sandwich before answering. “The brothers came out of the prison system. It’s a rough place and if you don’t have protection inside, your life isn’t worth shit. I know because I tried to play that game. Had the shit beat out of me, so I hooked up with the Aryans.” I stop talking for a moment and give myself time to decide how much to say. I gaze back at the desert hills and continue. “Coming into the real world when you get out isn’t easy. If you have no support, you end up back inside. Fox offered a sense of family.” I give a disgusted laugh and fix my gaze on Sofia. “Before I knew what happened, I was doing fucked up shit for him. Once you’re in that deep, you’re in.” I so badly want her to understand. “Fox was getting crazier every day. If it wasn’t me who took him out, someone else would have. Doesn’t mean it would have been better for the men of the club.” I take another bite and swallow it down with a gulp of soda. “I want better. All the brothers do. Some are still mixed up with the ethnic shit from prison. Maybe they’ll change, maybe they won’t. The rest don’t really give a fuck. Families are diverse in their thinking and if we have each other’s backs and keep the club out of trouble, we can build something solid.”

  She rolls her eyes and looks at me like I’m stupid. “That’s easy to say but who the fuck do you have doing the cleaning? A wetback spic,” she bites out. “I was born in this country. I’m as American as you and your brothers, but I’ll always be a second-class citizen to the likes of you.”

  I steal one of her tater tots because I’m cruel that way; I don’t rise to the bait. “We have three white women heading deep into withdrawals. They’re usually the ones who clean and every so often cook. They stay in a single-wide behind the clubhouse. Red’s in charge of them until they’re out of the woods or decide to leave and go back on the drugs.”

  Her expression changes only slightly. “Those women never cleaned any part of that club and if you think they did, you’re dumber than most Bubbas.”

  At least I understand this insult. I enjoy her spirit and sparring with her. And she’s correct about the cleaning aspect of the women’s job. I steal another tater tot.

  “Eat your own,” she huffs.

  I give her my best who me smile and take a drink of soda. “I know the whores cleaned things up every once in a while after Fox would finally put his foot down. They’re junkies. They do the minimum required for their next fix and most of that was on their backs or knees. They can get off the drugs or get out—”

  “You call them whores and talk about them servicing your club like they’re some form of animal and you expect them to do what you say,” she interrupts. “Has it ever occurred to you to offer them respect?”

  My food is gone and I look longingly at her tater tots again. She pushes them toward me. I finish them off quickly and try to explain to an outsider. “Club whores serve the brothers. They have no problem with the distinction or they wouldn’t be there to begin with. In most clubs they want to snag one of the brothers and become an old lady. That’s not the way things have been with Fox in charge. They whore for drugs. The men treat them like shit and the guys who have old ladies seldom brought those women around. Again, I plan to change that. Red’s now Curly Sue’s old lady and I think she has what it takes to put her foot down and keep the ladies in line.”

  Sofia sips her drink and stares off into the same hills I looked at a few minutes ago. “Do you plan to ever allow me to leave or are you just extending my life expectancy by a few weeks?”

  I rest my hand on hers. She doesn’t pull away. Her skin is so damned soft in contrast to mine. “Whether you believe it or not, I fought for you, princess. These men don’t want to kill a woman, but they have a strict sense of loyalty to the club and none of them plans to return to prison. You’re a threat. I won’t make promises I can’t keep but I will do my damnedest to make sure you survive.”

  She stares down at our hands before raising her gaze to mine. “What about you? I know you could get me out of here if you wanted to. I’ll never say a word. Hell, I planned to kill Frank and then I pointed the gun at you. I can’t tell anyone the truth.”

  If only it were that simple. “You interfere with the club, you pay a penalty,” I tell her. “I also won’t risk what I’m trying to build.”

  Her eyes are direct when she throws her next question at me. “Am I one of the whores or is my Latina blood too much for your brothers to handle?”

  This shouldn’t piss me off but it does. I don’t want to think of her spreading her legs for anyone but me. “Is that what you want? There are plenty of brothers who will take you up on the offer now that Fox isn’t in charge. If you have the itch to share that pussy, be my guest. There’s always a price for everything in life and maybe you’re even better on your back than you are at cleaning.” I’m surprised she
doesn’t slap me. Her hands clench into fists and I know she wants to.

  “You’re a dick, you know that, dog fucker.”

  Sofia

  I’M FUMING. WHAT THE hell did he expect me to think? I’d rather have it spelled out than worry about whose bed I’m sleeping in each night or, better yet, who I’m blowing at the bar. I’ve spent my life facing threats and not hiding. Asshole.

  I’m on the bike again and I’m holding on for dear life. He’s pissed off and flying like the wind back to the clubhouse. I keep my eyes closed as he takes the sharp curves through the hills without slowing. The hot, dry air hits my face and there’s nothing pleasant about the ride.

  There’s always a price. The words rumble through my head. What is my price?

  The pathetic fact is that I want Dagger. Down and fucking dirty. Want. Him. Would I whore for the club? Not a chance in hell unless they rape me. I was stupid not to think of that possibility when I set out on this mad journey for vengeance. My life has been a fucked up ride from the get-go. Just once I want to be happy. Live a quiet life without anger impeding on everything I do.

  Red is paying the price for my fuck ups now. Will she leave with me if given the chance? Dagger said she’s an old lady and will be handling the other women. Why has she stayed this long? I can’t leave if she’ll take the heat.

  This is why Dagger was willing to bring me with him today. He knows I won’t endanger Red—she’s my weakness. I have two choices: Live with what they will do to Red or settle in while I figure out what the fuck I want to do with my life. When I face facts, I have nowhere else to go. Joey Jay would take me in but I’d need to grovel. I’m not the same person who left Florida. Truthfully, I don’t know who the fuck I am at all.

  We pull up to the clubhouse and there are two additional bikes parked out front. Dagger isn’t worried. He casually helps me off his bike, takes the sunglasses I hand him, and stashes them back in the bike’s bag. All of this without meeting my eyes. Yeah, he’s still pissed off, but so am I.

  Skull walks outside and greets Dagger with a manshake. “You good?” Skull asks him while giving me a side look.

  Dagger grunts before replying. “Went to get some food. We need to stock this place with more booze and definitely something to eat.”

  “I can leave Vamp here and take the truck into the city. Shopping’s not my strong suit, though,” Skull replies.

  I made my decision on the back of Dagger’s bike and I might as well get started. “I know what to buy to stock a kitchen.”

  Both men turn and stare at me.

  “She did good in Payson,” Dagger says grudgingly.

  “My old lady’s working extra hours to make up for time she missed while we took care of business,” Skull says to Dagger and then looks at me. “If you can stock a kitchen, I can stock a bar.”

  Dagger stands silently by as I focus on Skull. “I’m ready whenever you are,” I offer.

  “Let’s do it.” Skull turns and walks around the outside of the clubhouse. I follow. I can’t resist looking at Dagger before I take the final turn around the corner. He hasn’t removed his dark glasses, so I can’t see his eyes. Why the hell do I care that I’m leaving him when we’re both angry? Getting away for a short time will do me good. I don’t think straight at the best of times, but, hell, Dagger fries my brain.

  I almost trip over a tire, so I turn my attention to where I’m placing my feet. There’s a lot of junk behind the clubhouse. I guess the great MC cleanup didn’t make it this far. The truck Skull leads me to is as dilapidated as the house. I’m surprised when it starts up immediately. My car is parked next to the truck, and I ignore it.

  “Seat belt,” Skull says.

  I find that funny. He rides a motorcycle with no helmet and forces me to buckle up?

  “It’s the law,” he adds by way of explanation.

  That’s even funnier. I don’t start laughing, though. If I do, tears might take over. I refuse to show weakness in front of any of these men and I’d like to keep it that way.

  Skull turns the music up loud signaling that this isn’t a chat session. Good, I don’t feel like deciphering the brain of another skinhead. The music he plays is old country and the twang grates on my nerves. How can anyone listen to this shit? I sit back in the seat and close my eyes. It’s hot and the farther south we head, the hotter it gets. I should have changed into my shorts.

  Skull takes me to a warehouse store to shop. It has everything in bulk, including fresh produce. He doesn’t bat an eye as I fill the massive cart. He has his own for alcohol. He buys hard liquor and beer. Soda seems to be his mixer of choice and he buys plenty of that too.

  I buy six huge bags of tortilla chips for snacks. I also buy what I need to make a vat of salsa. These white boys need to learn something about good, authentic Mexican food.

  I pile the cart as high as I can and Skull doesn’t stop me. I don’t know why but my thoughts turn to Dagger’s room and the condition of the sheets on his mussed up bed. “Would you mind if I get new sheets for Dagger’s bed?” I ask before I think about how that sounds.

  Skull rubs his chin through his gray beard. “Get sets for the other two rooms too. All three beds are the same size and I doubt if any are free of holes the size of Camelback Mountain.”

  I grab three sets and stack them in his cart. We head to the register and Skull pulls out the largest roll of one hundred dollar bills I’ve ever seen. I guess I didn’t need to worry about how much we bought.

  He fills up the truck with gas on the way out of town. I’m hot and cranky when he turns the music on again. “Please no,” I groan while covering my ears.

  “Driver chooses music, princess.”

  Not him too. “My name is Sofia.”

  “Whatever you say, princess.”

  I look out the window and stew. I can’t very well punch him in the face while he’s driving. Finally, we pull up in front of the clubhouse. I jump out before the truck stops rolling. Quiet people drive me crazy. Quiet people who listen to shit music more so. I notice additional bikes as I storm into the club. It’s about ten degrees cooler inside, which isn’t saying much. Dagger isn’t in the front room. I storm past the men and head down the hallway to find him. I enter his bedroom and stop cold. The room is actually clean. Dagger is placing his clothes in the battered dresser on the right side of the room.

  “You cleaned it,” I say in astonishment as I look around the room.

  “Needed cleaning,” he replies.

  I look at the bed. The top sheet is pulled up with several glaring holes showing. “I bought sheets.”

  “Good thing. These need to go to the nearest garbage. I’ll toss ’em if you want to put the new ones on.”

  I’m talking about sheets for his bed and it’s obviously gone over his head. I decide to keep things calm and stop thinking about fucking this man. Yeah right, like that’s gonna happen. “I can’t believe you didn’t make me clean the room.”

  He straightens from placing items in the bottom drawer. “You went shopping. Hate to shop, so I cleaned. Don’t worry, though. You got bar duty and cleanup tonight.”

  “It’s Sunday.”

  He leans against the dresser and gives me a killer smile. “The brothers don’t care. Only church they attend are the meetings we have here. No praying goes on at our meetings and we don’t sing no stupid hymns.” He looks over my shoulder and then back at me. “Where’s Skull?”

  “I couldn’t take his damn music, so I left him to unload by himself.”

  Dagger laughs. I like it. “Change into some shorts and we’ll both go help. I’m not fond of his music either but driver’s choice.”

  “Is that a motorcycle club rule?”

  “Nope, that’s the driver’s code,” he says with a bigger grin.

  Ignoring the effect he has on me is nearly impossible. My nipples are super charged whenever he’s around. I grab my bag and enter the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Stupid really. He’s seen it all and mayb
e I should keep reminding him what he’s missing. Hell, I never thought sexual rejection could bother me, so I stay put. I remove my jeans and tee and stare into the mirror. I’m not a small girl, but I’m toned muscle from head to toe. I’ve always been proud of my body and worked hard to get it. I decide to put on my one and only sexy bra. It’s lavender with more lace than material to hold my breasts in. I don’t have matching panties, so I keep the black ones on. I pull up the red shorts and add a skimpy white tank that shows off the bra. I have the goods and plan on working them to see if I can get macho man out there to crack.

  He’s waiting for me when I walk out. I swear a low growl comes from his throat before he turns and storms out of the room. I follow like a good little Latina and can’t help my grin.

  We stack boxes on every available counter along with the small table pushed up against the side wall in the kitchen. When there’s no more room, we stack on the floor. When we’re finished, Skull, Dagger, and two other guys I don’t know head back into the front room. Rufus, my wet-behind-the-ears bodyguard, is the only one who stays behind. I fill the sink with dish liquid and add some bleach. I grab the plastic garbage container and move it to the refrigerator. I start empting everything from the interior and try to keep from spilling my guts while doing it.

  “Can you take the garbage out for me so I can fill it again?” I ask when the trash can is filled to the brim.

  He stares at me for a minute before answering. “Follow me. My instructions are to keep you in sight at all times.”

  Oh, really! “What the hell happens when I need to pee?” I snap.

  “Dagger takes care of that. If he ain’t here, the door stays open.”

  I shouldn’t have asked. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” I grumble. I’ll deal with the peeing problem with Dagger. I haven’t forgiven him for watching me piss yesterday and I’ll be damned if some funky kid watches. This Latina pussy is way more than he can handle.