“Say it again.”
“Are you sure you’re actually a real biker?” I asked. He shook his head and grinned.
“No, my name. Liam.”
“Liam,” I said, letting it roll around my tongue. “Liam. Liam. Fuck me, Leeeeam.”
“Christ, I love how you say that. Nobody calls me that but you, Em.”
“That sounded almost sweet,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “But we aren’t playing games. I know you aren’t sweet, so stop pretending.”
He dropped his forehead down, resting it against mine.
“Never thought I’d see you again,” he said quietly. “Not gonna blow it now.”
“Maybe I should blow you?”
His face twisted almost painfully, hips swiveling against mine. For a minute I thought I had him. Then he kissed the tip of my nose and rolled off me. He tucked me into his side again, and used his free arm to grab a remote control off the bedside table. The TV sitting on top of a battered dresser flickered to life.
“Tell you what. Let’s hang out for a while. You sober up and still want to go at it, no problem. My dick’s all yours,” he said. “Until then, we’ll watch some TV. You like Top Gear?”
“Sure,” I said, trying not to yawn. I glanced up at the unicorn. It seemed to wink at me, sneaky bastard. I decided to rest my eyes for a minute, because they obviously weren’t working right. Five minutes later I was sound asleep.
• • •
I was dead.
Only death and damnation to hell could explain suffering this terrible.
Horrible, unspeakably bright sunlight attacked me. I tried covering my eyes with my arm. Unfortunately, this brought it into contact with my head, which exploded into waves of painful throbbing.
I heard the door open.
“Morning,” Hunter said cheerfully. “I brought you some coffee.”
I wasn’t dead, I realized. I tried to think back, remember the night before. Flashes hit me. Strippers. A glowing unicorn. British people talking about cars . . .
Oh God.
I’d thrown a jealous tantrum and demanded Hunter have sex with me. Then I’d fallen asleep on top of him. Kit. This was all Kit’s fault. She bought the devil shots. She insisted we stalk Hunter. Hell, she’d texted him in the first place.
My sister would pay for this.
“You want some Advil?” Hunter asked. I slowly peeled my gummy eyelids open. He stood over me, his hair wet and his skin glowing with the fresh vigor of a newly showered man.
Damn him and his sobriety.
“Advil would be great,” I said, unsteadily sitting upright. The covers fell down as I reached for the coffee.
Then I realized I was wearing only my bra and panties.
“Crap,” I said, grabbing for the sheet.
“Not like I haven’t seen it before,” Hunter said reasonably. “I stripped you down last night, figured you’d be more comfortable. Also, I think you spilled booze on the shirt. It smelled funny.”
Of course it did, I thought, mentally sighing. Because getting drunk and making an ass of myself wasn’t enough. Nope. I had to stink, too. Wordlessly, I reached for the coffee. I took a sip of the dark, bitter liquid, feeling it flow down my throat like a miracle drug. I was already feeling more human—amazing what a little caffeine can do.
Hunter sat down on the bed next to me.
“Think you’ll live?” he asked.
I considered the question carefully.
“Not sure,” I admitted. “Physical suffering aside, I’m pretty sure I’ll never live last night down. I’m sorry I was such a freak.”
He gave a laugh.
“Yeah, because I’ve never seen someone get drunk and stupid before,” he said. “Not that I didn’t appreciate you climbing all over me. But what the hell was that all about? Wasn’t like you.”
“Kit,” I said, her name a curse. “All her idea. For the record, she’s the one who texted you, too. My sister is insane. I’m not entirely sure she’s even human.”
I took another drink, then had a horrible realization. I’d abandoned my sister—drunk—in the middle of a party where screwing women publicly on tables was socially acceptable.
“Is she okay?” I asked, full of sudden panic. “Have you seen Kit?”
“She’s fine,” he said. “Down in the kitchen with Kelsey. They’re making breakfast for all the stragglers. I guess they hit it off last night—now they’re building some kind of unholy alliance.”
I shuddered.
“Just what the world needs. Did I really ask you to fu—have sex with me last night?”
“Yup,” he said, looking smug. “I’m on board with that now, by the way. You were just way too out of it last night for us to have any fun.”
“Wow, what a prince,” I muttered. “You won’t screw a drunk girl. Were you class president, too?”
He laughed.
“Trust me, it wouldn’t have been fun for either of us. I’m not into necrophilia. You were so out of it I kept getting nervous and checking to make sure you hadn’t stopped breathing.”
“Ewww.”
“Hey, not my fault. I was sober, remember? You’re the one who poured those shots down your throat.”
Oh, I remembered that part. Vividly.
“I feel like something died inside me.”
“That would be your liver,” he said helpfully, reaching down to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m gonna go check on Clutch, and then we’ll talk. Make yourself comfortable. Bathroom’s across the hall. Oh, and Em?”
“Yeah?”
“Last night was a game changer, so far as I’m concerned. I gave you your space, let you go. But you came back, so now you’re fair game. I’m done being the nice guy.”
I eyed him suspiciously, then pulled the covers up and over my head. I wasn’t ready to think about this. I heard him leave the room. Damn it. Why didn’t he have blackout curtains in here? After a while, the door opened again.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “I’ll get up. I was just drifting . . .”
“Don’t worry about it,” a voice said. Not Hunter’s, but one I knew way too well. I peeked out and over the covers.
Skid.
“What are you doing?” I asked, eyes darting nervously. He closed the door behind him and clicked the lock, loudly and deliberately. Then he leaned back against the door with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“We need to talk,” he said, his voice cold.
“You can’t hurt me,” I said quickly, hoping it was true. “Hunter will be pissed as hell if you try to do anything.”
He gave a harsh laugh.
“I don’t care about you enough to hurt you,” he said. “What happened before? That’s behind us. You were defending yourself and I was trying to save my brother from a f**king Reaper lunatic. We’ll call it even and let it go, at least as far as you’re concerned. This is something else.”
I cocked my head, not sure whether to believe him. Not that I had many options. I mean, I guess I could scream for Hunter. But Skid wasn’t making a move at me and now I was curious.
“What?”
“You need to leave Hunter alone. You have no idea how much you’re f**king up his life. I want you to get up, take your sister, and go away.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Why would I do that?” I asked, even though until that moment I’d half planned to take off anyway. But I really didn’t like being told what to do.
“Do you give even the slightest shit about him?” Skid asked, meeting my gaze without a hint of trickery. “If you do, you need to end this. It’s a game for you, but it’s going to destroy him. You’re like a virus in his head, eating him up and burning him out. How much do you know about his background?”
“I know he was in foster care . . .” I said, not wanting to admit how little he’d told me.
“He has nobody,” Skid said with careful emphasis. “It’s him, Kelsey, and the Devil’s Jacks. We’re his family, his work, his home. Everything. At this rate, he’ll be running this club some day—a functional club, without all the bullshit we’ve been fighting our way through these past few years. A relationship with you ends all that. He’d have to step back. We’d let him stay in the club, but if he’s with a Reaper, he won’t be trusted.”
I stared at him.
“That’s totally unfair—and it doesn’t make sense. You guys planned for him to get together with me in the first place. I’m the glue to hold the truce together or some such bullshit. How come it’s all changed?”
Skid snorted.
“Yeah, that was fine when he didn’t give a damn about you,” he said. “But it’s pretty obvious it’s deeper than that now. He talked club business with you—I know he did, so don’t bother denying it. And if he told you shit once, he’ll do it again. We can’t have our national sergeant at arms sharing secrets with Picnic Hayes’s daughter. He starts sleeping with you, it’s over for him and that’s a fact.”
I lay back, thinking. Wow.
“He’s really going to be a national officer?” I asked. “That’s . . . Isn’t he too young?”
“Things are changing for the Jacks. He’s one of the men behind those changes. We’ll have elections soon and that’s how it’s gonna play out. Unless you f**k it up for him.”
“Crap,” I muttered. I sat up, carefully holding the sheet in place. “You do realize that I have no idea what’s going on with him and me? I’m not even sure there’s an us at this point.”
“Exactly,” Skid said. “So are you willing to destroy his life just so you can explore it? Because if you care about him, it’s a shit thing to do. And don’t try to tell me you don’t care about him, either. I saw you last night. You’re as f**ked in the head as he is.”
I stared at the wall, trying to process what he was saying. The hangover wasn’t helping.
“Can I ask you one thing?” I said finally.
“Sure.”
“Why are you so sure I can’t be trusted?”
He just looked at me for long seconds, judging me with his eyes.
“Because you lied to your own club.”
“I had no idea Hunter was a Devil’s Jack—” I started to protest, but he held up a hand, stopping me.
“Not that,” he said, his voice cold. “Later, at the house. You called and told him to get out, right in the middle of a meet with your dad. Don’t bother trying to bullshit me. You used my f**king phone to do it.”
My breath caught.
“I smashed your phone.”
He offered a dark, cynical smile.
“Let me guess, your dad pays for your cell?”
I didn’t reply. He did, but I’d be damned if I’d admit it now.
“I have an online record of calls,” Skid said slowly and carefully, like he was talking to an idiot. Apparently he was. “I saw the number and the time stamp, Em. I know what you did. I can prove it.”
Oh, f**k . . . He could destroy me. And he would, too. I saw it in his eyes. Double f**k.
“So you hate me because I saved his life and yours?” I asked, feeling like a cornered animal. “I protected the peace between our clubs, Skid. That wasn’t a betrayal. That saved all of us.”
“I don’t hate you at all,” he replied. “I’m thankful to you. I love Hunter—he’s my brother, and he’d be dead right now if you hadn’t done it. Why d’you think I’ve kept my mouth shut? But can you look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t do the same for your dad? Say you were Hunter’s old lady. Would you make a call to save your father’s life, if you knew we might kill him? Because this truce may not last long term. You ready to make that choice?”
The thought stabbed through me. Of course I would save my dad. It must’ve been written all over my face. Skid gave a sad smile.
“You’ll always have divided loyalties, Em,” he said almost compassionately. “Our sergeant at arms shouldn’t be with a woman who isn’t a hundred percent behind the Jacks. Not if he’s been stupid enough to fall in love with her.”
“You think he’s in love with me?” I asked, my heart hopeful and breaking all at once.
“I think he’s something,” he replied, shrugging. “I don’t know if ‘love’ is the right word. Not sure he’s capable of love the way you’d think of it. But he cares enough about you to compromise his judgment. I know he went to see you at your house, and I know he told you things you shouldn’t have heard. That’s enough to end it right there. If you care about Hunter—if you want him to have a future—you need to leave this house and never come back.”
I wanted to argue, but I couldn’t think of a damned thing to say.
Skid was right.
“Go on,” I told him, feeling sick to my stomach. “Distract Hunter or something. I’ll grab my clothes, then Kit and I will take off. I don’t want to see him, though. Not sure I can handle that.”
“I’ll take care of it,” he said. “I’ll ask him to help me in the back yard. We need to move the keg and clean up anyway. You’ve got fifteen minutes.”
• • •
Eight minutes later, I was practically racing down the street, Kit trailing after me like a sad, spoiled little puppy.