Chapter 5 Hayride
Scythe slams the gavel down and roars for everyone to shut the fuck up. “Church is in session, fuckers. We’ve got business to discuss.”
It’s the first chance we’ve had to talk about everything since the meeting at the Mystic Emporium and Thad Scott. The fact that we’ve had a murder and a tourist disappear in less than two days is enough to put the whole club on edge.
Mountain clears his throat. “Tourists came in yesterday for the historic haunted hotel tour at the Mayfield. A woman named Natalya Scott and her brother Thad. He’s the one who disappeared last night before the tour ended.”
Scythe ticks his chin toward me. “What did you learn about her other than she likes to snap photos of my fucking club members and their bikes?”
A few brows rise around the room. Someone mutters a quick, “Fuck.”
Scarecrow frowns. As our enforcer, he doesn’t like anything that poses a threat against the club. I can see him getting visibly agitated.
Before I can answer Scythe, Phantom speaks up.
“Saw her plenty last night when I kept popping in and out of the rooms.” His grin is fucking annoying. “Spooked her and a few others to keep up interest in the Mayfield and the tourists coming back.”
Yeah, the asshole loves this shit. He thinks it’s hilarious. “I thought it was you,” I mutter.
He slaps my back. “What? You think ghosts are real?”
“We’re cursed to share our souls with scarecrows.
That’s a bit freaky,” I remind him with a growl, irritated, and not sure why.
Maybe because it scared Nat. I can’t stop thinking about her or the devastation on her face when she spoke to me about Thad.
“Natalya is worried about her brother. She’s not from here.
She doesn’t understand what we are or how we protect the town. ”
Scythe tilts his head, and he studies me. “Tell me what she is to you.”
That command has everyone staring, and I shrug. “Don’t know.”
“But you feel protective of her, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” I admit. I don’t know what it is that has me feeling a pull toward her, but it’s strong.
Voodoo howls with laughter and begins to chant, “Another one bites the dust.”
I flip him off, not that it makes him stop.
Mountain and Scythe both have ol’ ladies, while the rest of us don’t. Voodoo swears he’ll never settle down and doesn’t want an anchor around his neck.
Me? I’ve never thought about it. Until now.
Scythe taps his fingers on the table. He does that when he’s restless or agitated. “You believe Natalya.”
“I do,” I confirm. “She’s got no reason to lie about her brother. I know they’re outsiders, but she’s not here to stir up trouble. The siblings came for a good time. Nothing else, Pres.”
“So you say,” Scarecrow grumbles. “I don’t like it, Pres. The Scotts show up just when we find a dead body, and one of them disappears. It’s fucked up.”
“I agree,” Charon, our cleaner, chimes in. “Should have seen how torn up the body was once I got to it. Mangled beyond recognition. We’re dealing with someone who has experience with a knife and rage issues.”
“Not a good combo,” Mountain adds.
“I’m planning to take Nat back to the Mayfield tonight after the Fear Farm closes. She told me the tour guide saw her brother leave. I want to talk to the guide and see if I can find anything else out.”
“Good. Put a prospect on the hotel.”
“I’d like one where Nat is staying, too. She’s at The Hanging Tree.”
“Do it.”
“Appreciate it, Pres.”
“There’s more to consider. The witches aren’t worried, but they won’t like it when they hear about the missing kid. I don’t want more bullshit. No more fucking bodies,” Scythe spits, reaching for his phone as it begins to ring.
He’s the only one besides Mountain who checks it during church. As the president and VP, they’re the two most important people in the club.
Scythe answers the call, which means it’s his ol’ lady Lottie, his dad, Hangman, or Boomer. “Yeah?” I see him tap with speaker button.
“We got a situation, brother.”
Everyone in the room snaps to alert. Something is wrong. I feel it before Boomer speaks another word.
“Tell me,” Scythe orders. Even with his brother, he doesn’t hesitate to be the leader this club needs. It passed from Hangman to Scythe, and Boomer became sheriff. The Madden family controls Raven’s Crest.
Along with the witches.
Or maybe they just let us think so since we’re fucking cursed.
“There’s been another murder.”
Fuck!
“Who?” Scythe growls.
“Madam Serena. Natalya Scott went to see her, and someone fucking threw a knife and stabbed the old woman. Blade cut through the tent and went right into her back during Nat’s palm reading.”
“Fucking hell,” Scythe says as he drops his phone on the table.
The fact that Boomer is calling Natalya by her nickname pisses me off. It implies a familiarity with the woman I’m interested in. But that’s not what I’m concerned about.
I shoot to my feet. “Is Nat okay?”
“No. She’s fucking terrified, Hayride. I need someone here to help with her while I handle the body.”
Scythe meets my gaze. “Go.”
I’m out of the room before anyone else says a word, running through the bar and outside to my bike.
My ass lands on the seat, and I start the engine, sending gravel flying behind my back tire as I skid on my way out of the gate.
The prospect barely had time to open it when he saw me riding toward him.
I don’t remember the ride back to the center of town. When I park in front of the sheriff’s office, I see Boomer talking to Nat. She’s in shock. I can tell by the glazed look in her eyes as she holds a mug and how pale she’s gotten.
Boomer opens the door as I rush inside, going straight to Nat. I take the mug from her hands and place it on the nearest surface before I haul her into my arms. The second I do, she collapses against me, held up by my strength alone.
She’s cold. Her whole body is chilled, trembling with such force I worry she needs to see a doctor, but I know it’s the shock doing it to her.
Her mind is locked away from me as she mumbles words I don’t understand.
I feel her fingers curl around my shirt, and I tighten my hold, hoping some of my warmth will seep into her skin.
It takes a few minutes, but I feel her warm up, the tension in her body slowly fading. Her cheek rests over my heart, and something inside me shifts, opening to this woman, but also latching onto her in a fierce way.
Like she’s mine.
Like I’ll do anything to keep her safe.
She’s not going back to the Hanging Tree. I won’t let her, not after Madam Serena’s murder. Nat might be a target now. She doesn’t realize it, but everything is different.
She needs to be in a safe house. The only place worthy is The Barn. To be specific, my room. She’ll just have to accept it.
I don’t tell her all of this while she’s struggling with the aftermath of trauma. Later, when she’s calm, I’ll explain.
“I’m staying with you for the night.”
She surprises me when she answers without hesitation. “Okay.”
I’m thrilled for about two seconds until I realize she’s terrified to be alone. That’s fucking unacceptable. I’ll find a way to make her feel safe again. Pushing my thoughts aside, I answer her, “Good.”
Boomer strides toward the door. “You got her?”
“Yeah.”
He steps out and pauses long enough to lock the door before rushing toward the crime scene.
“Hayride?”
“Yeah, gorgeous?”
“I’m tired.”
Adrenaline dump. I’ve seen it before, multiple times. After a traumatic event, there’s a crash, and fatigue sets in.
Some people cry, and others can become irritable.
I don’t know what to expect from Nat, but when her knees buckle, I act without thinking and catch her.
Lifting her into my arms, I stride back to Boomer’s office.
Her head lolls toward my neck while the heat from her breath teases my skin.
It stirs my blood in a way I haven’t felt since I lost my fucking virginity at thirteen.
I shake away the thought and keep walking.
I’ve been inside this office often, so I know there’s a big leather couch and a couple of blankets that Boomer keeps handy in case he has to sleep here.
He likes to keep extra supplies on hand in case of trouble in the forest. People get lost out here and then exposed to the elements.
The sheriff’s office handles all emergency calls, even the rescues.
I lower Nat on the couch and reach for the blanket, covering her up as her eyes begin to flutter. She’s exhausted. Purplish smudges darken the skin beneath her eyes. Her fair skin is still too pale as I settle into Boomer’s leather chair and watch her.
I can’t help it. I’m concerned, but I also can’t seem to take my eyes off her.
She’s fucking beautiful, but that’s not the only reason.
Natalya Scott intrigues me. She’s smart, loyal, and deeply cares for her brother.
That already tells me a lot about her. Plus, she loves to ride with me.
A thought pops into my head, and once it does, I know I’ll obsess over it.
She’s a natural ol’ lady.
I let Nat sleep and briefly doze off myself. When I wake, it’s close to sunset. Golden hues are disappearing on the horizon. The Fear Farm is already open.
I check my phone, but I haven’t missed any texts from Scythe.
He’s leaving me alone to protect and care for Nat.
Just in case, I send him a quick message letting him know she’s resting and that I’m with her at the sheriff’s office.
Then, as I think about it, I tell him I want to bring her to The Barn in case she’s in danger.
Scythe is quick to agree. He doesn’t want any more deaths in Raven’s Crest.
None of us wants to add to the rising body count.
I grab a mug of coffee, kick back in Boomer’s chair again, and wait for Nat to wake up.
“HOW LONG WAS I OUT?” Nat asks in a groggy voice. It’s sleepy and sexy, and I have to think of anything other than the way I want to drop to my knees in front of her and kiss her until she’s writhing and begging for more.
“Close to two hours,” I reply as she sits up. “How do you feel?”
“My body feels heavy and sore like I’ve run a marathon.”
“It’ll get better soon.”
She smooths the blanket over her lap while our eyes meet. “Thank you for staying with me. Has there been any news?”
“About Thad? No.”
“And Madam Serena?”
I slide off the chair and join her on the couch, sitting close enough that our thighs touch. “Boomer is taking care of it.”
“I guess there’s not much else to be done, is there?” Her voice catches, and I hate that Nat is going through all of this. Her visit to Raven’s Crest should be fun. I hate that it’s become dangerous, and her brother is missing.
“Hey, why don’t we grab some dinner and head to the Fear Farm. It’s a good place to find a little distraction, and I can show you around.”
“We’ll still go see Ellie later. Right?”
“Yeah. No worries about that.” Scythe wants me to question Ellie, so I’ll be going with or without Nat. I have a feeling there’s nothing that can keep her away.
Natalya’s stomach rumbles loudly, and I smirk. “See? You need to eat.”
“Okay.” She isn’t trembling anymore. Her voice is a bit stronger, too.
“One more thing before we go,” I say as I stand. “You’re not staying at the Hanging Tree until whoever killed Madam Serena is caught.”
She blinks at me and then narrows her eyes. “That’s not your choice to make, Hayride.”
“Well, actually, it is. This is my town, but it’s not me being some controlling prick, babe. It’s dangerous for you to be alone right now. That B&B isn’t safe compared to The Barn. At my clubhouse, I can protect you. And there’s a lot of club brothers there if shit goes down.”
She opens her mouth to argue and then snaps it shut.
Good girl.
“What if Thad tries to find me and I’m not there?”
“I’ve got a prospect watching the Hanging Tree and a friend working the receptionist desk. If your brother shows up or makes contact, we’ll know right away.”
“You’ve thought this through,” she murmurs.
“Took care of business while you were sleeping, gorgeous. Had to stay useful.”
“Thank you.” Nat rises to her feet and moves closer to me than I anticipate. I can smell the clean scent of soap and something floral. It’s not overwhelming, but nice. Simple.
“I got you,” I promise, meaning it in multiple ways.
Not just protection. Or help with finding her brother.
I’m getting tired of fighting the need that keeps flaring to life inside me when she’s nearby.
She’s lit a spark in me, and I’m just standing here in the smoldering fire, waiting for a chance to fuck Nat the way I can’t stop thinking about.
Her palm rests against my whiskered jaw. “You’re a good man, Hayden. The best. I know I can count on you, and with everything happening, it means more than I can ever express.”
She lifts on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek, but I turn my head, devious fucker that I am, and fuse my mouth to hers.
In an instant, I’m fucking hard, needing to taste her and know what her moans sound like, how she gasps when I slide inside her.
I’m so fucked because the second she said my real name instead of my road name, I fucking claimed her in my head.
Now, I just have to claim her with my body. Natalya Scott is gonna be my ol’ lady.
She’s mine.