Chapter Eleven
Colter
I expected the cold.
She was fucking ice the next day.
It was so obvious that I caught a few of the guys casting curious looks in my direction. Whether they suspected something had happened, or were simply curious if I was seeing what they were seeing was beyond me.
As much as I didn’t love the coolness coming from her, I still believed leaving was the right move.
I had a feeling that someone like Dylan would have been able to compartmentalize or play down sex. An itch being scratched, nothing more, nothing less.
Whether it made any sense at all, I didn’t want it to be reduced to that.
Not that there was anything wrong with casual sex.
But there was something with Dylan.
A spark.
Something I hadn’t felt with a woman in a long, long time.
If I wasn’t careful, with a woman like her, that spark could burn and fizzle out just as quickly.
I didn’t want that.
So I had to walk away.
Even if she was pissed at me for it.
It would be worth it in the long run. If it allowed her to let her guards down a little around me. If it let me get to know her better. If she could possibly let me in.
I was willing to get frostbite in the pursuit of something warm and soft and sweet.
“So you want us to stake out the place for a few days,” Dylan concluded.
“Basically. If possible, without putting yourselves in danger, to hang up some wireless hidden cameras,” Slash said. “But since it’s several hours away and this will need to go on for a few days at least, I figured I’d put everyone up in a local hotel.”
“Sounds good to me.”
She sounded eager as fuck to get out of town. Forgetting, of course, that I had every intention of going with her.
“I’m short on men who are willing to leave their women and kids for any length of time,” Slash said. “So you’re going to have Saint, Syn, and Colter with you.”
“I still say I’m healed enough to go,” Raff grumbled from the couch.
He was doing better.
He wasn’t as pale.
His leg was looking good.
He was barely taking pain medication anymore.
But he had to take it easy.
And everyone knew that having someone injured on a mission was taking a lot of risk. Too much risk when we had Dylan to protect. Whether she liked that or not.
While I hadn’t gotten much of a chance to see Saint or Syn in action, I understood that their previous life had involved a lot of danger. And, clearly, they’d managed to handle themselves.
“Fine,” Dylan said, biting the words off. She pointedly refused to look in my direction as her arms crossed. “When do we leave?”
“If you have no other plans, I figured the sooner, the better.”
“We can leave right now if you want,” Dylan said.
“Well, we need to book the rooms first. But probably tomorrow.”
“Great. Let me know. I’m heading out.”
She grabbed Sugar’s leash and was gone before anyone could say anything else. And since it was still the middle of the day, I went ahead and let her have her space.
“What’d you do?” Raff asked as soon as she was gone.
“Nothing.”
There must have been a false note, though, because Slash leveled a look at me that said he wasn’t going to let it go until he got an answer.
So I gave him one.
Just not the full one.
“She didn’t love that I attacked her motel neighbor when he didn’t want to take ‘fuck off’ as an answer,” I admitted.
I’d felt that kind of rage exactly once before in my life.
Back when I realized the two people I trusted most in the world had been breaking that trust behind my back for months.
That rage had distinct sensations I’d never experienced before—or since—until the night before.
The way my vision went fuzzy around the edges.
How my saliva tasted and burned like battery acid.
The way something sizzled in my veins.
How there wasn’t a single thought in my mind but making him pay for what he’d done.
I could have killed that guy.
I might have killed that guy.
If Dylan hadn’t stepped in.
In general, I considered myself a pretty temperate guy. I didn’t have some kind of rage disorder. I got angry, sure, but in a detached sort of way. It didn’t feel personal to me.
And aside from the brutal beating of my former best friend, I never lost control of myself.
I’d been up half the night trying to figure out why that one bastard had elicited that kind of reaction from me.
I couldn’t come up with anything logical.
Sure, I hated when men were pushy with women. Who didn’t?
But I’d dealt with that before without having to nearly strangle a guy to death.
So the only thing I could conclude was that it was because of Dylan. Her personally. A woman fully capable of taking care of herself. Yet she somehow evoked an overwhelming protectiveness in me.
It made no sense.
So I stopped trying to analyze it and just let it exist.
I figured working side by side with Dylan on this job would help me sort through some shit.
So I went ahead and volunteered to research and book the hotel rooms.
Since no one else was interested in the task, there was no reason for them to suspect ulterior motivations.
Like finding a hotel with connecting rooms.
Two for Saint and Syn.
Two for Dylan and me.
Would she probably make sure the deadbolt and latch were fastened at first? Sure. But I had a feeling she would soften eventually.
I was working on packing my bag when someone cleared their throat in my doorway.
And there was Saint.
“What’s up?” I asked when he just leaned on the doorjamb, shooting a look in my direction that I didn’t know well enough yet to interpret.
“Syn got his room confirmation,” he said.
“Good. I sent it to him.”
“He and I got a connecting room, huh?” he asked, lips twitching ever so slightly. “I figure I can guess who you plan to be connected to.”
“It’s—” I started to object.
“It’s absolutely like that,” he cut me off.
“And far be it from me to question where someone dips their wick, man. I just want to make sure you’re not gonna do something stupid like fuck up this job.
” I straightened at that, ready to throw my seniority in his face.
“And don’t feed me shit about being new to the club.
Because I think we both know that in our past lives, I was a shot caller and you were an order follower. ”
“Might be true,” I agreed. “But that was then. This is now. And now, there’s a club hierarchy. No matter how much you want to bypass it.”
I expected him to clap back.
But his lips curved up instead.
“There you go. Just checking.”
“Checking what?”
“To make sure I wasn’t taking orders from someone who’s never had to make a decision in his life.”
I hated how accurate those words were. Because, yeah.
I’d gone from under my parents’ thumbs to right into the military, where I was told what to wear, when to eat, and what to do…
every day of my life. The only real decisions I’d ever made for myself were divorcing my wife and beating the shit out of my best friend. Not exactly a glowing record.
“It’d be different if it was just you and me. But I’m trusting you to make the right decisions for my brother. I take that shit seriously.”
“I get it,” I said, nodding.
I wouldn’t pretend to understand the depth of their connection.
The sibling relationship that was also somehow like a father/son one and a boss/employee one.
That said, anyone who saw the two of them together could see how seriously Saint took his protection of his little brother. And how much Syn looked up to Saint.
“You know, I guess that’s why it works,” Saint said.
“Why what works?”
“You. Her.”
“I dunno what you’re talking about.”
“No?” he asked, smile going a little wicked. “You’re gonna try to pretend you don’t find it hot that she’s the type to bark orders at you?”
My memory flashed back to the kiss from the night before. To the way she grabbed my face, told me she didn’t say to stop, then kissed me again. Harder. Hungrier.
Yeah.
Okay.
It was kind of hot.
It was also the complete opposite of the dynamic I had with my ex.
Who had been a bit of, well, a damsel in distress.
She always wanted to be rescued, coddled, and taken care of.
It’s probably how I got good at gifts, since I couldn’t be there for her physically, but I could provide comfort from afar.
And I dunno… there was just something about the thought of being able to take care of someone who didn’t think they needed it that really appealed to me.
“So long as you two don’t fuck so loud on the stakeout that you blow our cover and get us all killed, I got no problem with what you two do while we’re over there.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said with a huff of a laugh.
“Gonna be amusing as fuck to watch that woman walk you like a dog,” he said on his way out of the room.
Maybe that would be something to look forward to.
But the sentimental part of me was looking forward to showing her that she was safe enough to let her guard down, that she was in hands careful enough to handle her softness without leaving bruises.
And I had a feeling I was going to have more than a few opportunities to do that on this little road trip and job of ours.
Even if she started off pissed at me.
I couldn’t blame her for it.
Sure, she’d gotten off, but it was clear she was primed for more.
It was one of the hardest things I’d done, walking away from her when she’d been looking up at me with those needy eyes and flushed cheeks.
But I stood by my reasoning.
Even if it had been the most uncomfortable walk I’d ever taken in my whole damn life.
I was just glad my cock got the point that nothing was going to happen by the time I got back to the clubhouse.
The guys hadn’t been suspicious about walking her home. Even on a normal night. But especially when there was a predator loose in the town that no one had been able to track down yet.
And it wasn’t just us looking.
It was the Murphy brothers too.
And while the Novikoffs, Czar, and Erion were all known for minding their own business, we all figured they would toss us a tip if they came across the asshole.
Then, well, someone would handle it.
Likely Crow and his bloodthirsty ways.
Shady Valley would be all the better for it.
Maybe that meant my morals were skewed.
But after fighting and killing in wars that felt like dick-measuring contests with human lives paying the price for inferiority complexes, I figured killing for the greater good made a lot more sense.
So I felt nothing for the idea of a rapist with a rap sheet as long as my arm dying for his crimes. Just like I’d feel nothing for Roach and his club of scumbags getting what was coming to them too.
Though, yeah, there was a part of me that was conflicted. But only because with Roach and his guys working overtime to fertilize the land around the clubhouse, Dylan was free to go back to her old life. Which was far, far away from Shady Valley.
I tucked those worries away for another time.
Because I had time.
So I would show her she felt the same spark I did.
To foster it.
And, maybe, convince her that it might be something worth holding onto.