12. Paige
12
PAIGE
“Here.” Savage hands me a water bottle that he got out of the saddlebags on the back of his bike. “Rinse out your mouth and drink some water.”
I take it thankfully. Safely around the side of the shop where Savage and Poe left their bikes, and more importantly, where there are no bodies, I feel a little better. Poe's taken over steadying me while Crank goes to see if his bike survived the crash. I'm bent over, pressing my palms into my knees, like I've spent the day working out. I'm not going to throw up anymore, but my abs feel like I just did a hundred crunches.
Crank wheels his bike around the corner. The tank is dented, a mirror is snapped off, and it's scraped all over. Something grinds against the back tire, until Crank takes a good grip and rips the offending piece off and tosses it aside. Presumably, that was optional.
“Jesus Christ,” Poe says as he looks at it. “Is she gonna make it?”
“She's fine, but needs some TLC for sure. I was right about the van, though. It’s fucked. Between the crash and the shootout, it’s not going anywhere. Oil tank’s busted open I think, if the pool underneath it is any indication.” He shrugs.
Savage brushes his hands off on his jeans. “I’ll report it to Hellfire when we get back and he can decide if it’s worth coming back for. Nothing we can do about it right now. Let’s get the stiffs out of sight before we get rubberneckers. We gotta cover our tracks best we can and get outta here ASAP. Poe, keep Paige away from the worst of it. Me and Crank'll handle it.”
“Sure thing.”
I hate that keeping me from freaking out is an item on their to-do list when they've obviously got important things to handle, but at the same time, that’s kinda what I hired them for and it’s not like I’m going to be any help. If I never have to see another corpse in my life, that's fine. My throat tightens at the reminder, and I take a small sip of water before I lose my dignity all over Poe's motorcycle boots.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
Poe guides me over to a cement barrier at the end of a parking spot next to the building. “Sit here, and try not to think too much about it. I know that’s kind of bullshit, but you’re tough. You’ll be alright. There’s no shame in how you reacted. Fuck, I was no better my first time.”
“Really?” I find that hard to believe.
He nods. “I was thirteen. Had an older cousin in a gang and one night when I was out with him and his friends, we got jumped by a couple guys. I thought I was so fucking cool hanging out with them, but when the first person pulled a knife, I froze up. Was totally useless.”
“Did you puke?”
“All over my cousin. He still calls me Chuck sometimes.” His grin is infectious.
“I'm not ashamed of throwing up.” I take another sip and force it down . “I think what bothers me is that I did this to myself, and now I’ve brought you guys into it. All of those men would still be alive if I hadn’t gone in that night. Was it worth it? Even if my uncle is involved in something shady, is uncovering that worth all the bodies? Is it worth the blood on your hands?”
Poe sits next to me and holds his hand out for the water. I give it to him and he tilts his head back and takes a sip. I watch the way his lips cradle the rim and his throat moves as he swallows. “Paige, I know you might not understand, and in a perfect world I hope you never do, but some blood stains and some blood cleanses. This? Blood spilled to protect someone from people who made their own choices? I will never lose sleep over. If keeping you alive leaves a mark, I’ll wear it with fucking pride.”
Oh my God.
My poor heart doesn’t know what to do with that. I need a subject change fast or I’m going to end up a traumatized puddle of emotional goo. “Distract me. Tell me about your bike club.”
He laughs softly. “Our fucking bike club . Sure. What do you want to know?”
“Is Savage your boss? He seems to order you and Crank around a lot.”
Poe raises a hand and tips it back and forth noncommittally. “Sort of. MCs are full of people who can’t stand structure, but fucking need it at the same time. We have a chain of command, like in the military, but based on strength, respect and loyalty. Nobody gets anywhere without all three. At the top is the president, ours is Hellfire. He's a fucking hardass. Moved up when our old president, General, got sniped by some fuckers from another club.”
“That's terrible.”
“I can’t lie, it hadn’t been long since I’d been sworn in, and it got fucking dark for a while, even for us. Almost tore the club apart, but Hellfire held us together and we’re stronger than fucking ever.” There's a violent edge to his tone that makes me think there’s a lot he isn’t saying.
“So Savage is… higher rank than you?” I guess.
He nods. “He's an officer. One of two right now, him and Ghost. There's usually a vice president, but Hellfire hasn't made his choice yet since he stepped up. Usually that would lead to a pissing contest, but both Ghost and Savage are more invested in the club than they are in measuring their dicks. I'm on Savage's squad, so obviously he's my choice.” He smiles, almost sheepishly.
“You guys seem close.”
“We're brothers. Not because we happened to be born to the same people, but because we fucking pull each other’s asses out of the fire when it counts. Like today. All the Outlaw Sons are my brothers, but Crank and Savage? We went through the trenches together and came out stronger. I'd trust them with my life, anytime, anywhere. And I'd do fucking anything to protect theirs.”
“You’re lucky. I think most people only find one or two people in their entire life that they trust that deeply.” I had one, and she’s gone.
Poe puts his arm around my shoulders. “You got us.”
“For now. Because I’m going to pay you.” Do I sound bitter? I think I sound bitter.
“Baby, think about it. If we didn’t want to help, do you really think any amount of money woulda made us stick around?” He squeezes me. “We take the jobs we fucking want to.”
I look up at him, tracing his jawline with my eyes right back to where the scar on his neck is. Before I think too hard about it, I reach up and touch it, brushing his black hair out of the way as I trace the pale white line with my fingertips, right next to the dragon tattoo that comes up from his back. “That looks like it was a close call.”
He grabs my hand, holding a little too hard before he relaxes his fist.
“Sorry.”
“Nah, I’m sorry. It was…” He tugs the elastic out of his hair and runs his fingers through it, letting the dark strands fall over the scar. “Let’s just say that someone I shoulda been able to trust gave it to me as a going away present.” The texture of his calluses is rough, but it makes him feel real. He lets go.
I don’t know why I do it, but I stick my hand right back into the fire and trace the line again, more carefully this time. His coal black eyes watch me closely. His pulse thrums under my fingers, a steady beat that’s slowly picking up speed. His hand slides down to my side, right above my hip, getting a good grip.
“We probably shouldn’t…” Shouldn’t what?
He puts a hand under my jaw and tilts it up, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Maybe we should. I think I like where this is going.” He touches his lips to the tip of my nose with a soft kiss. “I'd rather taste your pretty lips, though. Is that what you want?”
Maybe it's the adrenaline that's still coursing through me, but I want something physical to connect with. To actually feel I'm all right. To feel like I matter to someone in even a little of the way he’s talking about. I wet my lips, and his eyes drop just a moment to watch before his mouth is slanted over mine and I’m practically crawling into his lap.
Just as his hand starts to slide up the back of my shirt and our tongues come together, a boom shakes the ground. We wrench apart. Wide-eyed, I grab his arms and gasp. “What was that?”
“Sorry about that!” Crank shouts. “Tank blew a little harder than expected.”
A moment later, he and Savage come around the corner. They are covered in blood, dust and now streaks of black soot, but they’re looking pleased with themselves.
“The bodies and the van are dealt with, at least until someone decides to check their dental records. We should get the fuck outta here.” Savage tilts his head, looking between me and Poe. He raises an eyebrow. I pull a little farther away and take a gulp of water that goes down the wrong way and sets off a coughing fit. “Everything good here?”
“Perfect.” Poe nudges me to stand, then follows. He leaves his hand on my hip, like he's making a claim. “Let's go.”