Shot to Hell (Four Horsemen MC #7) (15 page)

BOOK: Shot to Hell (Four Horsemen MC #7)
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They searched through drawers, closets, and cabinets, only to come up completely empty.

“We should get out of here before a park ranger comes by on rounds and notices the light out.” Steele marched to the door.

His disappointment was palpable, and she almost felt bad for him.
Almost.
Steele’s partners had a way of ending up dead or kidnapped, which couldn’t be coincidence. He’d always cared more about his own skin than anyone else’s.

“You think we’re gonna find him?”

“I don’t know these guys, but they covered their tracks pretty well, which is never a good sign.”

“Tell me about it.”

They hopped into the Forrester, and she drove down the road. As they passed the guard station on the way out, Steele smiled. “The park ranger kept sayin’, ‘This is a family place.’ Do you remember?”

The ranger in question had kept repeating the phrase over and over. Ash knew what he was doing—trying to distract himself with a better memory. She didn’t have the heart to shoot him down again. “Yeah, I remember. We were alone in the park because it was after dark.”

“Until we were interrupted. Then he threatened to call our parents.”

“But he didn’t.” A smile tugged at her lips. “We were idiots. We could’ve gotten charged with public indecency.”

“Yeah, but I’m thinkin’ he was some kind of perv.”

“Eww.”

“So he’d have some explainin’ to do. He probably sat there and watched us while he beat off.”

She made a barfing noise. “I could’ve done without
that
mental image. But I’m glad he didn’t call my folks, or I’d have spent my summer being grounded and listenin’ to lectures. What about you?”

“Nah, my mom worked too damn much. I only got to see her an hour most days, between first shift at the grocery store and second shift at the fast-food place. If I didn’t have football practice, we’d grab a bite to eat before she went in to work.”

Ash knew he’d grown up poor. His mother worked two jobs to make ends meet, and she’d never been around much. After Abe and Steele became friends, he’d spent most nights at their house. He’d been the extra kid at the dinner table in cheap, ill-fitting clothing, devouring his food because he never got enough to eat at home. Steele had never invited them to his place, and she wondered if he’d been ashamed.

A long moment passed, and she spoke up. Something had bothered her for years. “I need to ask you a question.”

“Shoot.”

“I’m not an idiot. I know Abe warned you off after we kissed at my birthday party, but I don’t understand why you boned Sally Abrams and her magnificent wonder-snatch the very same week. No, not even. The
next
day after we….”

“After we went parking.”

“I
hate
her.”

He stared out the window. “Would you rather I picked a girl you liked?”

Suddenly, she felt sixteen again. Sixteen and in the throes of unrequited love. “No, but you could’ve talked to me.” It would’ve saved her a lot of pain and self-loathing.

It was like a real life version of the Taylor Swift song
You Belong with Me
. Everyone at school gossiped about the football star and the head cheerleader “doing it” at Sally’s place while her parents had been gone for the weekend. Sally was pretty and perfect—a blonde bombshell.

Ash had felt ugly and awkward in comparison. While she had no idea what Sally had done with the rest of her life—if she was married, had kids, a white picket fence, maybe a couple of stupid parakeets—Ash
still
held it against her. In fact, she hoped Sally had a shitty life.

After the Sally incident, Ash had spent six miserable months in a funk mooning over Steele. In school years, it’d felt more like twenty.

“No, I couldn’t,” he said after a few minutes, then turned to meet her eyes.

“Why?” Ash wished it didn’t bother her—hurt her— but it still did. And it was the beginning of the end of their relationship. Abe’s death had been the very last straw.

He settled back in his seat, staring straight ahead. “I had to make you…we needed a clean break.”

“I think you mean dirty,” she said bitterly. “It was a dirty way to break up.” He’d been everything to her. She’d wanted Steele for years, and he’d finally noticed her, but it’d fallen apart in a week. Ash had mourned the loss for months.

“We weren’t datin’—not really—and I wanted you to hate my ass.”

“Well, it worked.”

“Yeah, I know.” Steele didn’t seem pleased with his own success.

After he’d screwed Sally, she’d ignored Steele. School was easy, because she’d been in advanced placement everything and their paths never crossed. When he came over to see Abe, she’d go out with her friends. And if she had the misfortune to get stuck in the same room with him, she pretended he didn’t exist. Operative word: pretend. She’d been all too aware of his presence.

“If we’d had a great big, grown-up talk instead, would you’ve let it go?”

Ash wanted to say she would’ve handled it fine. They could’ve dealt with the situation maturely, like two adults, and she would’ve moved forward while keeping her friendship with Steele.

But it was a lie. Ash had wanted him too much to let him go so easily.

“No. Probably not.” She wanted to ask why, why Abe had mattered more to Steele than she had, but she couldn’t without coming off completely pathetic.

“Sisters are strictly off-limits. I never should’ve touched you, but I couldn’t”—he swallowed—“help myself.”

She turned away and sucked in a breath. “Were you gonna…?”

“I didn’t have a plan. We were alone, and then I touched you, kissed you.” His voice somehow reverberated, and she could’ve sworn the sound stroked her inner thighs. “Once I started, I couldn’t stop. I wanted more.”

Once again, Ash found herself on the backseat of his car—the foggy windows, bodies pressed together, those teasing lips on her breast. Part of her wondered what it would’ve been like if that fucking ranger hadn’t intervened. If Steele had been her first, would he have come to his senses and dated her instead of man-whoring around? Would Abe have come around?

Yeah, and I might become a mermaid the next time I take a bath.

If she’d slept with Steele, he
still
would’ve
broken her heart, only it would’ve been even worse because she’d have been the idiot who had given the town’s male tramp her virginity.

“You got real quiet.”

Ash shook her head. She’d had this particular injury for years, no sense in picking at the scab. It’d never heal right. Instead, she pulled out her cell phone and thumbed a quick text.

“You should be payin’ attention to the road.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m reckless. I get it.” Her phone pinged with an immediate response. With a grin, she tucked it back into her pocket.

“Who texted you?

“Ace. I’m going out with him tonight. I might get lucky.”

His irritated, grunting response was priceless.

***

Perdition wasn’t the kind of place Ash would have chosen for a first date.

For one thing, the biker bar theme was a bit much—the Harleys, posters of nearly naked girls on bikes, and the mysterious, sleazy-ass line of skanky underwear, of course. But the music had grown on her.

The Crossroad Crows band played a June Carter and Johnny Cash version of the classic,
It Ain’t Me, Babe
. A woman with blue and blonde hair sang the duet with a sexy blond man. A few other band members played the instruments behind them, but the couple had a spellbinding energy. She could watch them all night long—staring at one another while they sang, looking into each other’s eyes.

Oh, she knew the look. Longing. Ash used to gaze at Steele with her heart in her eyes and a lump in her throat.

Because I’m an idiot.

After a half pint of peach moonshine, she felt pretty damn mellow—not even close to drunk, but she had a pleasant, warm glow, like she’d spent a lazy day on the beach, sunning and working on a tan.

She even loosened up enough to sing along, drumming on the table.
It Ain’t Me, Babe
could be Steele’s theme song. Lord knew he loved being a good-time guy. He wasn’t the sort a woman settled down with or depended on.

Ash glanced at the bar. Steele had turned his stool sideways and kept watching her and Ace.

She tried not to feel smug about capturing his attention, but she failed. All those years, she’d assumed she’d never really appealed to him. He hadn’t found her sexy enough or pretty enough to deflower. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he’d done some pining for her too. Maybe it was wishful thinking.

“You should eat something, darlin’.”

Ash flinched. She’d forgotten all about Ace. “Sorry, I don’t think I’m good company tonight.”

“You’re doin’ fine.”

She grabbed a paper menu Ace had brought over earlier and glanced at it as though carrot sticks and yogurt dip had suddenly appeared on the list. “I can’t. Everything is fried. The moonshine is enough of a treat.”

“Come on now, live a little.” Ace leaned across the table and offered her the end of his mozzarella stick. “A couple bites ain’t gonna kill ya.”

What’s not to love about breaded cheese fried in oil? They smelled divine, but it didn’t fit into her routine. She pushed his hand away. “Not according to the surgeon general.”

“Ash….”

“Seriously, I can’t. Don’t tempt a girl.”

“Course you can. And what if I wanna tempt you?” Ace bit into the cheese stick and waggled his brows.

Her lips twitched. If only she were interested. Ace was handsome, fun, and sexy as hell, but he didn’t do a damn thing for her. It seriously sucked ass. “What about Glory Banks?” She took another swallow of moonshine, pleased with her diversion tactic.

“She’s married…to an asshat, yes, but she’s
still
taken.”

“And you, my friend, carry a fiery torch for Mrs. Banks. And I got an old flame of my own.” Ash refused to sneak a peek at Steele again.

“Well, damn. Aren’t we a sorry pair of suckers?”

She snickered.

“At least eat something.” Ace held the snack closer and the delicious scent of fried cheese wafted over.

The next thing she knew, she’d bitten off a piece. It
was
delicious—cheesy, hot, and decadent. She hadn’t had anything so good in years—and she wanted more.

“Hey, you wanna split some sauerkraut balls?” 

“Knew you’d come over to the dark side.” He glanced around. “I don’t see our waitress, so I’ll place an order at the bar on my way to the restroom.”

“Can you get me another drink too?”

“Sure thing. Another ‘shine?”

Ash already felt perilously mellow. If she had another one, she might dance on the bar or join the band onstage. “Better not. Order me something else.”

“Like what?”

She shrugged. “Surprise me. Tonight, I’m steppin’ outside my comfort zone.”

Ace licked his lips. “I
love
the sound of that. Tell you what, I’ll put in our order, hit the head, and be right back.  Sit tight.” He sauntered to the other side of the bar and didn’t acknowledge Steele, who appeared to be boring holes into the other man with his eyes alone.

“Can I get you another drink?”

Ash looked up to see the waitress who’d gotten their drinks earlier. If memory served, her name was Wendy. She was a thin brunette with pretty green eyes, and she wore a pair of jeans so tight Ash wondered how the girl sucked in air. Her hair stuck up every which way, and she bet the waitress had been, er, otherwise occupied.

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

Wendy sat in Ace’s vacated chair. “Look, I don’t know you at all, but I thought I’d give you a heads-up.”

“About what?”

“Steele, the guy whose been starin’ at you all night.”

Her eyes widened. Club gossip sounded potentially juicy. “What about him?”

“I know he’s doin’ a great jealous guy impression, but he’s the love ‘em and leave ‘em type. Believe me, he’s damn fine in the sack, but don’t get too attached.”

Her stomach clenched, and the fried food in her belly settled like a lead balloon. “You and Steele…?”

“Yeah, a couple nights ago.” She pursed her lips. “Had a good time, but it’s not a big deal. He’s slept with most of the girls who hang around the club.”

“Of course.”

“Thought you should know.” Wendy stood and grabbed her tray. “I don’t have a thing for him, but I watch out for the sisterhood and all that.”

“Yeah, thanks for the warnin’.”

“No problem.” Wendy wandered over to another table.

She slumped in her seat. It’s not like the news came as a surprise. Steele had been screwing his way around small towns since he could get an erection. And he’d probably nail every lady in his old folks’ home thirty years from now.

Ash watched Steele, a full-on fuck-you sort of stare. He turned away from her, suddenly interested in the bowl of pretzels in front of him.

She drained the rest of her moonshine and wished she’d asked Ace to bring her another glass.

After a bit, Ace came back with a hurricane for her and red plastic basket full of fried treats. She took one to be polite, but her appetite had gone. The drink didn’t do much for her either. Hurricanes were a bit too sweet, but he’d surprised her as promised so she sipped it. 

Ace nodded to the other side of the room. “He’s still watchin’ us, and I think he’s fantasizing about kickin’ my teeth in.”

She slanted Ace a wicked sort of grin. “Maybe we should give him somethin’ entertaining to watch.”

“You’re tryin’ to make him jealous, aren’t you?”

Ash took a syrupy sip of her drink. “Nope.”

“Don’t be lyin’ to me. I don’t need Voodoo’s freaky-ass perception powers to tell.” He leaned closer to whisper into her ear. “Know what’d really make him jealous?”

“What?”

“If we kissed.” And then he stole one, brushing his lips against hers. He pulled back and offered her a lazy grin.

Ash scooted her chair closer and pressed her leg against his before leaning closer in invitation. “Do it again.” Right now, she needed to think about anyone but Steele.

Ace planted one on her, only this time he was assertive, slipping his tongue into the cavern of her mouth.

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