All the Sky (12 page)

With his head down, as if he were praying for patience, he gritted, “Fuck’s sake, woman! Are you just trying to piss me off? I was helping him. He had to puke.”

“BECAUSE HE WAS DRUNK!” She had a vague sense of how completely irrational she was being, but she couldn’t rein it in. She was shaking with anger and anxiety. With another step backwards—she was almost to the bedroom—she took a breath and tried for a steady voice. “Just—just get out. Get out. Stay away from us.”

He took another step toward her, then set his frame, his arms crossed, his legs widening to fill the space between the cabinets and the nearest of the banquette’s bench seats.

“No.”

Just that one word, like he didn’t need more than that. God, she was so pissed. She knew it was stupid. He was a big, violent biker who could tear her into pieces, but that wafting sense of reason was no match for the undertow of her churning emotions, and she ran at him, barreling into him as if she could push him bodily out of the RV. “GET THE FUCK OUT!”

He barely budged. So she tried again, making rabid grunts as she tried to move him, and then his hands were around her arms, just above her elbows, and he was dragging her forward and up until she was so tight against his chest she was sure she could feel his heart beating.

His eyes narrow and his lips curled with menace, he leaned down until they were almost nose to nose and snarled, “You are way over your stupid chick head.”

And then he kissed her, his mouth slamming over hers and his tongue instantly, deeply in her gasping mouth.

There wasn’t anything he could have done that would have shocked her more. Stunned into inertia, she didn’t pull away immediately. He seemed to take that as acquiescence or maybe even welcome, and he gentled a little, one big, hard hand moving up to cup her jaw. As his force eased, she felt a familiar clutch and tingle between her legs and the sudden impulse to draw him closer.

That’s when she pushed him off. And this time, he backed off immediately.

“What the fuck was that?” She was breathing hard.

So was he. “I—I don’t know. Fuck!”

“You need to go. I mean it, Havoc. I need you out of here.”

He stared at her, as if his dark eyes could bore into her head. “Yeah. But you’re on the bar tonight. Five sharp. Don’t make me come and drag you there, because I fucking will.”

With that, he turned and left the RV, slamming the door as he went.

Cory dropped into the banquette, her head spinning.

~oOo~

Relieved of the need to find a job right that very day, but still too unsure of its permanence to bother looking for a place to live—as she’d intended, back in the dark ages of the day before, when she’d momentarily thought their biggest troubles were behind them—Cory spent the hours Nolan was gone sitting at the banquette with her jewelry supplies. By the time he climbed into the RV, well into the afternoon, she’d made quite a pile of simple, inexpensive earrings and bracelets. She had no idea what she’d do with them all, but making them had given her mind some focus and peace.

And she needed it. Every time her whirling mind landed on that kiss—and it wanted to land there repeatedly—her emotions exploded into a shower of manic thoughts, feelings, images. So she focused on her beading and tried very hard not to think of the feel of his beard on her lips and his hand on her face.

When Nolan came in, he stood in front of the settee, looking like he had something to say. She set down her tools and met his eyes, waiting.

“I’m sorry. I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did. But I’m sorry, too. We didn’t communicate so well yesterday.”

“Nope.”

“You feeling okay?”

His smile was small and rueful. “Now, yeah. If that’s what being hung over is like, why do people get drunk?”

She laughed. “I guess you don’t remember the good part, then.”

He shook his head. “Just talking to a couple of Horde when I got there. They were pretty close to my age, I thought. And then Havoc was waiting for me at the bathroom. And you were there. You were mad. And then I woke up here with my brain in my throat.”

He sat down on the settee, and Cory slid out of the banquette to join him. “Do you understand why I don’t want you to go there?”

For several seconds, he stared at the floor without answering, but Cory could sense him formulating a response. One of the reasons she felt she could trust him, even now, was that he was a preternaturally mature kid. He was thoughtful. And, with her, he was open. If she hadn’t come down so hard and fast at the fair, they’d have talked then, and the whole weird night could have been averted. She was as much to blame as anyone.

He looked back up and met her eyes. “I do. There was some stuff I saw when I got there that was…kinda embarrassing to see. I don’t want to be at a party like that again. What I remember is pretty gross.”

“Good.” She sighed in relief, but she could tell he wasn’t finished.

“But, Mom, I don’t get what your problem is with Hav.”

“He lives there, kiddo. All that embarrassing, gross stuff? That’s his scene. He’s not a good role model. He’s rude, he treats women like crap, he fights, and who knows what else. He’s not a good guy.”

“Isn’t that all surface stuff, though?”

“No—the way he treats people, the things he does, that all tells you about who he is.”

“Okay, well. He treats me good. He talks to me like he’s interested in what I have to say. He likes a lot of things I like. You’re the only other person in my whole life like that. I know it sounds stupid, because we’ve only been here a month.” He grinned. “And also because he’s totally old, but I think he’s my best friend.”

“Nolan, that’s not—”

“If Dad ever wants to see me again, would you let him?”

“Yeah, kiddo. Of course. I won’t keep your dad from you. You know that.”

“Do you think he’s a good role model?”

She had no honest way of answering that question that didn’t break her rule of never maligning Matt to his son.

He filled in the silence she’d left. “I know why you made him leave. The real reason.”

“What? How?”

“Because I’m not stupid. Or deaf—Aunt Linz and Uncle Alex talked about it all the time.”

Jesus, she was beginning to dislike her sister strenuously. “Nolan, it’s different with your dad.”

“Why? Because of DNA? He doesn’t like anything I like. He doesn’t even care about me anymore. He fucked around on you and made you sick. Why is he good enough, but Hav isn’t? Because he smiles more?”

Okay, her kid was too damn mature, too insightful. She felt absolutely no better about Havoc being in Nolan’s life—since that kiss, she felt even worse about all of it—but she was out of argument. Nolan was right. Matt was a terrible role model. He was a terrible father. He’d been a terrible husband.

She’d spent so much time trying not to let hate in her heart, trying to keep any hostility away from Nolan, that she’d let the edges wear off the truth.

But that didn’t make Havoc a good influence for her kid. He was a brutal, coarse, uneducated biker. Nolan was her quiet, sensitive boy, already struggling with a lot of anger about his life. It was one thing to let them talk at the bar while she worked. It was another thing to let them spend time together without her—especially at that damn clubhouse. And that was a best-case scenario, assuming that he didn’t get bored hanging around a kid so much and then just bail on him.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Nolan. You’re right—he’s good to you. But that scares me more. I don’t want his kind of life for you.”

“Isn’t that my choice? And I don’t even know what kind of life I want.”

“Kiddo, it’s more than that. What if…what if he stops wanting to hang out?”

He shrugged. “That would suck. But I know what that’s like. I’d deal.”

She had her doubts about that, but now she really was out of argument. “Okay. No parties, though. Our negotiations end there.”

“Cool. I can live with that.” He turned a cheeky grin on her, his blue eyes sparkling. “For now. Maybe some day that stuff won’t be so gross, though.”

She swatted his arm. “Smartass.”

~oOo~

The bar was fine that night. A quiet, Sunday clientele, never very full. Nolan, worn out from his night of debauchery and his day of hangover, stayed home. For most of the night it was just her and Nate, one of the cooks, and no more than six or so customers at any given time. They closed at eleven on Sundays, and the place was empty before ten-thirty. When Havoc came in just before eleven, Nate had clocked out and Cory had finished all of her closing tasks except running the tape. She was glad; she didn’t want to be alone with Havoc for long tonight.

She was just finishing polishing the last table when he came in, so she wasn’t behind the bar. He came in and walked straight to the office, without acknowledging her in any way. Frankly, it was a relief.

As soon as the clock hit eleven, she locked the door, turned off the sign, and pulled the shade. Then she ran the tape and pulled the till. Okay, hard part next. She took a steeling breath and went into the office.

He wasn’t behind the desk, where she’d expected—hoped—he’d be. Instead, he was just coming out of the little staff bathroom, and they were face to face, only about five or six feet and the till in her hands between them. They stared at each other.

Finally, he spoke first. “You gonna put that down?”

“Um…oh! Yeah.” She took a step and set the till on the desk. When she turned back, he’d taken a step closer. She could smell the soap from his just-washed hands.

He really was…she didn’t know what the right word was. Not handsome; to her, that word spoke of a precision of style and appearance that Havoc didn’t have. He was too rough and coarse for a word like handsome. But he was hot, and he appealed to her at a primitive level she didn’t quite understand—even more so since this morning. His neck was thick and his chest and shoulders broad. His arms were corded and bulging with muscle, even at rest, and his hands were large and, she now knew, his palms were tough and calloused. His head was shaved, his beard thick and dark. His eyes nearly black eyes peered at her with such intensity now that she couldn’t help but swallow and take a step back.

He matched it with a step of his own, forward.

She needed to redirect her own ideas about what was happening, so she focused on Nolan. “Um…I talked to Nolan. He likes you, and he needs somebody to hang with who isn’t me. So I’m not going to get in the way of him hanging out with you, if that’s what he wants. Is that what you want?”

He blinked. “What? Yeah, yeah. He’s a good kid.”

That answer didn’t satisfy her. “He is. I don’t want him hurt. He’s had enough to deal with.”

He took a step forward, and she took one back. If she’d been turned just a little, she’d probably be in or near the open doorway, but instead, he’d about backed her into the wall.

“I like him. Reminds me of a friend of mine. He wants to hang out, that’s good. I’ll look out for him.” He took another step, and then she really was backed against the wall.

“Havoc—”

“I don’t kiss chicks.”

Now it was her turn to blink. “What?”

“I don’t. I fuck chicks. I don’t make out with ‘em.”

Well, wasn’t he the charmer. She had no idea where this conversation was now going, but it couldn’t be anywhere she’d like. And maybe that was a good thing. “Okay…”

“You piss me the fuck off. You’re a mouthy little bitch.”

Definitely a good thing. Now she was angry, and angry was better. It gave her focus. “Likewise. You’re a rude asshole.”

“So why did I kiss you?” He took the last step that brought him directly in front of her and put one hand on the wall next to her head. “What is up with you?”

She had no idea what he was talking about or why the hell he was asking her questions only he could know the answer to. She put her hands on his chest to push him away, but he leaned in, his muscles flexing against her palms, and did something strange and disarming. With his free hand, he pulled the neckline of her shirt out, bent his head to her shoulder, and sucked on her collarbone. For the second time in the same day, he’d shocked her into stillness.

He sucked along the length of the bone, all the way from her shoulder to her neck. It felt strange, not quite erotic—except for the clear sense she had that he was acting practically against his own will, which was strangely, powerfully hot. Then, when he reached her neck and growled, his face firm against the skin at the base of her throat—then it was fully erotic, and she moaned and bared her neck before she was aware that she had.

With that unspoken concession from her, he was on her completely, fiercely, grunting, his mouth sucking her neck, his hands suddenly moving all over her body, pulling up her shirt, going for her jeans, yanking them open—and she realized that he was trying to fuck her, right now, no more to it than a rut against the wall.

She shoved her arms back between them and pushed as hard as she could. At first, she had no effect on him. “Hav, get off—get off. Stop! Get off me! Stop!” Just as she was beginning to think that she wasn’t going to be able to stop him and he wasn’t going to stop himself, he backed off. He was flushed and breathless, and he looked very confused.

“What?”

“Jesus! Are you so challenged that you can’t understand ‘Stop’?” She closed her jeans and straightened her top. Maybe she was going to lose this job anyway, because she couldn’t work around him like this.

“I thought—I felt—I thought you—fuck!” He hit his head with the heel of his hand. “Fuck! What is up with you?”

“Why do you keep asking me that stupid question? You’re the one being weird.”

“I thought you wanted it. I felt you want it. I know I did.” He was almost talking to himself, and an odd feeling of sympathy came over her. She was beginning to understand something about him, something sad.

“I did. But then you went all gorilla, like you forgot there was a person attached to the interesting parts. Crazy gorilla sex might be great, but not first, not for me. Don’t you know how to be sweet?”

“Fuck you. Yes.”