Chapter Fifteen
Rags shifted in his chair, then stretched his long legs in front of him, trying to concentrate on what Banger was saying.
He wasn’t having much luck with it since Casey had taken root in his thoughts.
He cursed under his breath, trying to banish the memories of that night to the dark corners of his mind.
Unfortunately, he was unsuccessful. The feel of her lips on his, the way she pressed against him, the feel of her skin was like velvet, and the feel of her tits were pure pleasure… and desire. Fuck.
“You with us?” Banger’s voice had a sharp edge.
“Dude, the prez is talking to you,” Tank said, elbowing Rags.
Rags glanced up and met the cold stare of the Insurgents’ president. “What was the question?” he asked, sitting up straighter, the faint tug of stitches over his brow pulling tight.
Banger’s brows drew together. “You’re in church, damnit! Get your fuckin’ head outta your ass. What we talk about here is important. What the fuck’s going on with you?” His ice-blue eyes narrowed.
“Just got shit on my mind,” Rags said, meeting the prez’s gaze.
“Like a pussy,” Blade said under his breath while Tank sniggered.
Rags wanted to bury his fist in Blade’s face but didn’t think Banger would approve—especially not during church.
“That’s a lame excuse for not giving your full attention. We all got shit going on,” Banger said.
Rags clenched his teeth and nodded.
“Now, what’ve you found out ’bout the business the Devils Reign MC is taking from us?” Banger asked, irritation lacing his voice.
“They’ve taken away a few of the loans we had by buying them out and charging lower interest to the citizens who had them,” Rags said.
“The club fronts the debtors the money to pay us back, then the debtors pay Devils Reign at a lower rate. Word gets out, and suddenly they got a line of citizens knocking on their door.”
Stepping forward, Hawk said, “Rags is right. Reviewing the books, our revenue from collections is down by eighteen percent for this month alone.”
A cacophony of curses, fists pounding the table, and loud protests filled the room. Banger stood tall, eyes darting between the members. After a few minutes, he leaned forward and brought the gavel down. Silence fell.
“I’m gonna take that as a consensus that these punks need to be shut down.”
“Fuck yeah!” Rock said, echoed by several others.
“We got another problem,” Rags said, standing. “I’ve heard those fuckers are selling smack and China Girl.”
“I’m checking on that,” Hawk said. “If it’s true, they’re dead.”
Banger nodded. “We can’t have these assholes ruining what we got with the fuckin’ Feds.”
The Insurgents had an implicit deal with the Feds: keep hard drugs out of the county and the MC’s dispensaries stay untouched. There was also a tacit agreement with the local sheriff: keep Pinewood Springs clean, and certain things got overlooked.
“I’ll follow up,” Rags said. “The informant’s close to Devil’s Reign.”
Banger nodded. “You let me and Hawk know.” He took a pull from his beer. “Don’t fuck this up.”
Rags clenched his jaw. “I said I’m on it.”
“And those sonsofbitches are still wearing the Colorado bottom rocker,” Blade added.
The room erupted again, and it took three strikes of the gavel to calm everyone down.
“First, we confirm the drug trade,” Banger said, voice low and steely. “If it’s true, they’re history. If not, we stomp their balls and torch their clubhouse. Are we all in?”
Cheers filled the room, fists raised. Banger and Hawk watched in silence, pride clear in their eyes. Each and every member would die for the other. The Insurgents were family, brothers, and they were loyal to the end. And no one messed with them.
When the noise died down, Banger smiled. “Unanimous vote, then. Devil’s Reign MC ceases to exist one way or the other.”
The members whistled and stomped their boots.
Banger struck the gavel. “Church’s over. Go have some fun.”
Chairs scraped and voices rumbled as brothers drifted toward the main room.
“What’s going on with you?” Smokey asked as he and Rags reached the bar.
“Not much. Just work,” Rags said.
“You know that’s bullshit,” Smokey said.
“He’s got the hots for that chick working for Owens at the nursery,” Tank said.
“The one from Blue’s Belly,” Blade added.
Smokey laughed. “You’re dating a citizen? How the fuck didn’t I know?”
“There’s nothing to know,” Rags snapped. “And I’m not dating anyone.”
“You sure looked pretty dressed up leaving here a couple of nights ago.” Tank laughed.
“Fuck you.” Rags grabbed the waiting shot of Jack and tossed it back.
One of the prospect’s jobs was knowing every member’s drink and having it ready the second they walked in.
Smokey picked up a bottle of Coors and took a long pull. “So where did you go?”
“Why’s that anyone’s fuckin’ business?” Rags motioned Hog for another.
“The real question is was she a good lay or bad?” Blade grinned.
“The way you were dressed, the bitch’s pussy shoulda been the best you ever had.” Tank chuckled.
Rags shoved off the bar, fists clenched. “Show some fuckin’ respect or we’re gonna have a problem.”
“Lay off,” Throttle said, stepping in. “She’s a decent woman.”
The grim set of Tank’s mouth eased. “I didn’t know she meant something.”
Blade and Smokey mumbled in agreement.
“Whatever.” Rags grabbed his shot and walked away.
The cold night air hit him hard as he stepped outside. He downed the whiskey, then hurled the glass against the brick wall.
“Fuck,” he hissed.
Images of Casey flooded back: standing in her doorway, arms crossed, determined as hell. She’d told him no and meant it, and that was what burned him. Still did.
Two days. Two fuckin’ days and she hadn’t left his head. It wasn’t just memory. It was want, raw and unspent, clawing at him every time he went still. He wasn’t used to being turned down. And he sure as hell wasn’t used to wanting a woman more after she walked away.
What the hell’s her problem anyway? She gave me signals she wanted more. The way she kissed him back, then stopped. And then nothing. Fear crept in, and he didn’t know what the hell was going on with her.
“Damn,” he hissed, rubbing the side of his face.
If she needed space, he’d give it to her. If she wasn’t interested, he’d move on. There were plenty of chicks who tripped over themselves to get to him.
But he wanted her. The truth sat heavy in his chest, undeniable and unwelcome: Walking away from Casey wasn’t going to be easy.
Not even close.
A hoodrat, who looked vaguely familiar, smiled at him when he stepped back into the main room.
She leaned against the bar like she belonged there wearing tight jeans, a low-cut top, and dark hair falling to her shoulders.
She came to a lot of the club parties. Easy.
Familiar. Exactly the kind of woman who usually fixed his problems.
“Hey, sexy,” she said as he approached the bar. “I haven’t seen you at the last few parties. You’re not taking a break, are you?” Her blue eyes dropped from his face to his chest to his crotch then snapped back up. She winked.
“Been busy,” he muttered.
She pushed off the bar and pressed into him, as her fingers gripped the front of his T-shirt, mouth brushing his jaw.
“You look tense,” she murmured. “I can help with that.”
Yeah. That was what he needed. Something to take him out of his thoughts.
She grabbed his hand and headed toward the stairway to the hallway of bedrooms. He shook his head then let her pull him down the hallway to one of the empty rooms. The sound of voices faded as the door closed. There was a low light coming from a small lamp on one of the nightstands.
“Have you missed me, Rags?” she asked, her breath warm against his ear.
What the fuck’s her name?
“I’ve missed you. Remember how much fun we had a few months ago with Keisha? Although, I didn’t like sharing you.” She swiped her tongue across his Adam’s apple.
Then it came to him all at once. Topaz.
Topaz’s hands were warm, confident, roaming his chest, his shoulders, slipping beneath his shirt like she’d done many times before.
Normally, his body would’ve been right there with her. It wasn’t… and that pissed him off.
Her mouth found his neck. Her fingers traced down his stomach.
She took his hand and placed it on one of her tits then pressed closer, her hips rolling against him, and still there was nothing.
No spark, no edge, just irritation crawling up his spine.
His body stayed stubbornly cold, like it knew she wasn’t the one he wanted beneath him.
Casey’s face flashed in his head: full lips, dark eyes, warm smile.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
Topaz smiled, mistaking it for encouragement. “Yeah, sexy, I know what you like.”
She slid her hands lower, slower, deliberately teasing. His jaw clenched. The anger hit fast and sharp. Not at her, but at himself. This should be a no brainer, but he wasn’t responding. Her touch felt wrong. But he knew why. She wasn’t Casey.
“Hey,” she said softly, as if sensing the shift. “You okay?”
He stepped back, breaking contact. “Yeah. I—” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Sorry. I got somethin’ I gotta deal with.”
Her smile faltered, annoyance flickering across her face. “Are you fuckin’ serious?”
“Yeah.” He held her gaze. “It’s not you.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right.”
He grabbed his cut off the mattress and shrugged into it. “I’m not in the right headspace.”
Topaz crossed her arms, her eyes flashing. “Then don’t start shit you can’t finish.”
He didn’t answer or apologize again. He nodded once and headed for the door.
He shut it behind him and leaned his forehead against it for a second.
His teeth clenched as anger rippled through him.
He was still pissed, still wound too tight.
Topaz should’ve been the easy fix. A couple of hours of hardcore sex that ended without consequences.