13. Roxie
ROXIE
I don’t need a man. I don’t want a man.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
My alarm blares, and I groan as I roll over to turn it off. I don’t remember setting it, but if the killer headache throbbing at my temples is any indication, I got pretty drunk last night, so my lack of memory isn’t surprising.
“Rise and shine, Rox!”
Shuffle strides into my room, not bothering to knock. His cheerful demeanor grates on my nerves, and the smirk on his face tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Jesus, tone it down a bit,” I grumble, falling back into the mattress and pulling the covers over my head.
The comforter is yanked away, and my brother leans over me. “Not happening. Get up,” he demands.
So much for cheerful.
“Make me,” I counter, trying really hard to use my words and not choose violence.
Unfortunately, he has no such problem. He grips my arm and pulls me to my feet. Then he drags me to the attached bath and practically shoves me inside.
“Get a shower,” he orders. “I’ll have some Tylenol waiting for you when you’re done.”
With that, he storms out of my room. I want to shout at him to leave me alone, to stop treating me like I’m one of his prospects that he can boss around, but that will only end up with my head splitting all the way in two.
“Fucking asshole,” I gripe as I strip and get into the shower.
The warm water helps to clear my head, and memories from the night before come crashing in.
Shit.
Shuffle no doubt wants answers. All I know is that I was having fun with Rae, drinking and catching up, and then Seth and his friend interrupted. Seth crossed a line with me and got his ass beat for his trouble. The last thing I remember is feeling scared and sick to my stomach.
I scrub soap over my skin, wincing when I hit a tender spot on my hip. I glance down and see a large bruise, which reminds me of the fact that I passed out in the main room.
Did Shuffle see that? Is that what has him in a mood?
Only one way to find out.
After getting out of the shower, I dry off, get dressed, and run a comb through my wet hair. I don’t bother with makeup because there’s no point. I’m not here to impress anyone.
Leaving my room, I go in search of my brother. I find him sitting at one of the tables in the common area, and when he sees me, he stands and closes the distance between us.
“Follow me,” he says as he walks past me toward the hallway.
I do as ordered, and we enter his room. “You said you’d have Tylenol,” I remind him.
He grabs a bottle of pain reliever off of his dresser and tosses it to me. Next, he snags a bottle of water from his mini fridge and tosses it as well.
“Sit,” he commands after I down the pills, pointing at his bed.
“I think I’ll stand.”
“Sit the fuck down, Rox.”
“Sit the fuck down, Rox,” I mimic snarkily but do as I’m told.
My brother begins to pace the length of his room, his riding boots thudding on the floor. With each step he takes, I grow uneasy. It’s clear he’s pissed, but it’s not clear why he’s taking it out on me.
“What the hell happened last night?” he finally asks.
I huff out a breath. “Like Saint didn’t already fill you in.”
He whirls on me. “I want to hear your version.”
“My version?” I practically screech, and instantly regret it when my head threatens to explode.
“Yeah, your version.”
“I got drunk, that Seth jackoff hit on me, Rae and I put him in his place, and he got mean. Saint jumped in and took care of it.”
Shuffle glares at me. “You’re leaving out the most important part.”
I tilt my head, feigning ignorance. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“You passed the fuck out, Rox,” he bellows, throwing his arms in the air. “And that was after you started shaking like a leaf. What gives?”
Absently, I rub my hip where I’ve got the evidence of what he’s asking about. “I was drunk, Ry.”
“Right, but in all the times I’ve gotten wasted with you, you’ve never passed out. And being drunk doesn’t explain the blatant fear I saw on your face after Rae came and got me.”
“You sure you weren’t drunk? Or high? Because I think you were seeing things.”
“Dammit, Rox,” he snaps. “Something is going on with you, and I need to know what it is.”
I shoot to my feet, anger surging in my veins. “No, Ry, you don’t need to know. You want to know. There’s a difference.”
“So you don’t deny it?”
“Deny what?”
“That there’s something going on, something you’re not telling me.”
Done with this conversation, I storm to the door. “Leave it alone,” I warn before walking out of the room.
I quickly get my jacket, cross-body bag, and cell from my own room and leave the clubhouse.
The cool air causes goosebumps to break out over my flesh, but I ignore it. I have to get the hell out of here before I do or say something I can’t take back.
With no destination in mind, I ride aimlessly for an hour or so. Eventually, I find myself parking at the curb in front of the bike shop. Before I can give it a second thought, I go inside, and the little bell dings with my entrance.
“Someone will be with you in a minute,” a man calls from the back area.
I don’t recognize the voice, and disappointment settles over me. “No hurry,” I call back.
Ten seconds later, Screamer comes through the swinging door and grins. “I thought that was your voice.”
Instinctually, I take a step back. “Oh, I, um…” Get your shit together, Roxie. “Yeah, it’s me,” I say lamely.
“You okay?” he asks, and the genuine concern I see in his eyes is almost my undoing.
“Fine,” I lie. “I just…”
“You just what?”
I push past the fear because, really, what the fuck am I afraid of? This man has done nothing wrong.
“I brought my bike,” I blurt, hitching a thumb over my shoulder.
His eyes light up with amusement, and he smiles. “I see that.”
“Shuffle says you’re the best.”
Screamer leans his forearms on the counter and assesses me. “Did he?”
Swallowing, I nod. “Yep.”
“I’m the best at a lot of things. Did he happen to specify?”
“Bikes. Mechanics. He said you’re the best at that.”
Fuck, I sound like an idiot.
“What else did Shuffle say about me?”
“I, um… nothing, why?” I ask, unease in my tone.
“Funny. He hasn’t told me anything about you either.”
“Nothing to tell.”
He chuckles. “Oh, I doubt that, sweetheart. I have a feeling there’s a whole lot about you that someone could tell.”
Lowering my eyes, I stare at the floor. There is, but I find myself wanting Screamer to work for the information, prove that he wants it, and not because it’s simply handed to him on a silver platter.
“Look, do you wanna work on my bike or not?” I finally ask.
He straightens. “Sure. You actually gonna leave it this time?”
“Yeah, but…”
“But what?” he asks when I go silent.
I take a deep breath as I lift my gaze and lock eyes with him. Forcing the words out of my mouth, I say, “I didn’t exactly think this through. I’ll need a ride home.”
We stare at each other for a long minute, and my core tightens. God, he’s hot. Hot and a biker. And a man. I don’t need a man. I don’t want a man.
But you want him.
“Yo, Journey, I’ll be back,” Screamer shouts before walking around the counter. “C’mon, sweetheart. I’ll take you home.”