Survivor: Steel Jockeys MC (9 page)

Sean took a step toward the door. "How do I know I can leave you two unsupervised?"

"Because," said Joe, and Ruby could sense a little smirk emerging from his full lips. "You
were
right about one thing."

Joe caught her eye briefly, and the strange combination of determination and longing in them made her stomach seem to leap. As she slid across the comforter to allow their bodies to meet, her nerves seemed to follow. Every inch of her, from the nerve endings in her skin to the hollow halls of her rib cage seemed to snap to attention, to rally themselves for the cause.

Of course, she knew it was possible that she was seeing something that wasn't there--something that she perhaps
wanted
to be there. She placed her finger on Joe's wrist, almost melting as she felt his nerves flex under her the tips of her fingers. Yes, he was a good enough, tough enough, to hide his nervousness in front of Sean--but a touch never lied.

He moved his hand up her arm, curling up over her shoulders and around her other side, slowly fusing their bodies together, and Ruby closed her eyes automatically as she collapsed further into his touch. She was close enough now to breathe him in--the leather, the grass, the wind, the same elements she had inhaled when he had first come up behind her in her apartment, that had strangely comforted her even as she was frightened to death. It's only acting, she tried to tell herself, but her body wasn't prepared to agree with her mind's conclusion.

Amid her excitement, she managed to steal a glance at Sean as he stared down at the couple. She recognized the knowing twinkle in the slightly older man's cold blue eyes. His unbridled lust was what was going to buy them time, if not save them. Call it gullibility on Sean's part, but Ruby knew it was impossible for him not to believe that Joe, like him, was too much of a slave to his sexual appetites to be able to hold back. If he was led to believe that the young couple on the bed had a tryst in mind, he wouldn't interfere.

Ruby inhaled slowly as Joe bent down to place his lips softly on her collarbone--perhaps to be romantic; perhaps to signal to her that despite the situation, he wouldn't go any farther than she was comfortable with. Or perhaps because--and this is what made Ruby's stomach continue to turn gymnastics--he'd wanted to do it all along. "Do you mind, guys?" Joe demanded as he raised his head, as if surprised Sean and the bikers were still there. "A little privacy?"

"Don't be shy, Joey," Sean hooted. "It's nothing I haven't seen before. Come on, show us you mean business!"

Ruby stiffened, suddenly nervous about how far Joe might be willing to go to demonstrate he was serious. Playacting was one thing, abject humiliation was another. But Joe had her in mind; he handled it without missing a beat. "Sean, I'm disappointed in you. Can't you see that Ruby here isn’t one of your girls down at Curves Cabaret? I mean," he said, his voice quickening as he stole a small glance at the woman next to him, "I haven't known her that long, but I think I can safely say she's not in the business of performing for the amusement of you and your fellow pervs here." He gestured dismissively to Deke and Wes.

Sean crossed his arms and nodded at his cronies, whose hard and dark eyes, black as coal, couldn't bely their own voyeuristic impulses. "Point taken. I know when we're not needed," he said to the bikers. "But you know I've never been one for unnecessary risk, so I'll be keeping this as an insurance policy." He tipped the barrel of the gun up toward his lips.

Ruby felt Joe harden a little, though he said nothing. She knew the loss of the Beretta was a small price to pay for giving them a chance to get out of here unscathed, but it would leave them defenseless. As much as Ruby had resisted using it at first, she knew how much she had come to depend on it. But the mere fact that Joe was still poised, the muscles in his arm and back where her own body rested still taut and ready, made her think that merely his presence might be enough to get her through whatever lay ahead of them.

Sean and his compatriots filed out. When the door closed firmly behind them, the couple on the bed turned instantly to look at each other, letting out two identical sighs. Then Ruby let out a little laugh followed by Joe.

Then, to her surprise, his eyes widened, as if possessed by some sudden urge. He leaned in. She bristled, knew she should pull away, shriek, or throw a pillow at him at the very least. Show him that she'd only been performing. Like a ballerina in a music box, dancing on cue simply to save her skin. That she had had no other intention, no other desire for young Joseph Ryan, and that he must be not only presumptuous but insane to think otherwise.

Instead, she kissed him back.

The way his full lips felt was unexpected, confident but also curious as they probed hers, slowly, exploratory, not in any way aggressive or forceful. He was giving her an out, she realized. In case she didn't want this. In case she'd made a mistake. But she darted her tongue deeper, to taste more, and she felt his body shift and respond, as if he were surprised at the enthusiasm of her kiss. As if he had almost been expecting her to resist.

Eyes closed she felt his fingers, still cold from the outdoors, reach for hers with a certain roughness that on him, felt right. A little weathered and a little dangerous. She walked her fingers up his arm as he slid it around her back, brushing the bottom of the camisole she wore. Making his way to the waistband of her pajama pants, he pressed her more strongly against him as if urging her to lay back. At the pressure, she felt a delicious frisson somewhere in the middle of her body. She arched her back and grabbed onto a lock of his thick blond hair, as if she could pull him backward with her.

By the time her back hit the mattress and she opened her eyes, she was looking into two ardent amber-gold irises, studying her like a riddle. Joe bit his lip, as if he were trying to control himself.

He was genuinely attracted to her. There was no doubt about that now and she took refuge in it. She reached up to brush his chin, his cheek, marveling at its smoothness that even a day’s growth of beard couldn’t erase, like sandstone washed by the ocean for a thousand years. She hooked his full bottom lip with her thumb.

He closed his eyes, almost purring, and she wondered how long it had been since he had been touched like this, since he'd lain in bed with anyone for any other purpose but a cheap thrill. His hand reached gently for her wrist and guided it down to the waistband of his jeans. The idea of giving Joe pleasure, of allowing him to pleasure her, tantalized her so much that it made her shiver as she grazed her fingers against the rough material.

After what she'd been through in the last 24 hours, she dared anyone to judge her for wanting to delight in this young man who, despite his youth, she suspected had been through thousands of hells. More than she, who had seen her share of tragedy, could possibly imagine. And it was this knowledge that made his gentleness and generosity when she was in his arms all the more surprising, all the more wondrous. And it made her want to explore him, what other secrets he might be hiding.

Secrets. They flashed through her head, reeling like grainy black-and-white film, sharply edited. Kyle on the pavement, the windy night in Ross Canyon, Fox's voice. "They're dangerous men."

The spell broke all at once. "Joe," she breathed, her voice barely audible. "I don't think--"

Joe immediately sat up. The sudden lack of the weight of his skin made her feel uncloaked, strangely unwhole. "You don't want--? I mean, I thought--" His hair had fallen forward when he'd bent down, and he flipped it off his face again, revealing the confused expression there.

"No, no!" she backtracked. "It's not that--" she stopped herself, before she revealed too much. She knew it was better and safer if she left him believing that she had a handle on her desire for him when, in reality, she was afraid she was closer and closer to losing control entirely. On the other hand, when she thought of giving this impossibly gorgeous young man sitting on the bed the impression that she didn't want him, it made her want to tear her hair out. She forced herself to speak evenly, almost robotically. "It's better this way," she said, rubbing her hand absently over the goosebumps on her arm.

Joe nodded and looked down at his hands, as if marveling that a few seconds ago, they had been touching Ruby. "You're right. We don't have any time to waste getting the hell out of here." His voice was calm, but Ruby noticed the radiance from his amber eyes had changed. It was as if, when he'd kissed her, he'd opened up a closet door, allowing her to gaze down into its depths. And now, as he rose from the bed, whether or not he was conscious of it, it was like he had slammed it shut and locked it. Its contents were safe again.

"You do have a plan, right?" she asked hesitantly as she gathered up her clothing, wondering whether Desiree would want her to put the sofa bed back together. She glanced around for some paper and pen, knowing she should at least scrawl a thank-you note.

"Ruby, I’m offended that you even have to ask," he joked mildly. "I always have a plan…Sort of."

He turned around, and she was relieved to see a cocky twinkle in his eye, more like the Joe she had first met yesterday. If he had closed the door on his desire for her, that was just as well, she thought. They made a better team when they weren't ogling each other. Somewhere within her, though, still echoed the ache of disappointment, of lost opportunity.

"Have you eaten recently?" he asked.

"Just a little. Why?"

"Our escape route favors the skinny."

So it had been out the egress window--Ruby first, then Joe--borrowing a flashlight and a screwdriver they hoped Desiree wouldn't miss, then across the small copse of trees that separated Desiree's house from the lot surrounding Cat's Bar. Amazingly, still under the cover of darkness, Joe was able to pick out his own bike from the dozens of others parked outside. Ruby helped him wheel it far enough down the dirt road to give them enough of a head start so that, by the time Joe turned the key, they wouldn’t attract as much attention.

Ruby, despite her relative lack of sleep, was grateful to be on the road again. They didn't stop until the sunrise broke over the highway halfway between Fresno and Madelia, at a rest stop on Highway 99. It was one of those huge ones built on an overpass, complete with a gas station,  a Burger King, and exhausted parents heading down south to Disneyland. All around them, sleepy children were being hauled out of their minivans and into restrooms, whining about nothing in particular.

Ruby hadn't realized how hungry she was until Joe came back with sausage and egg breakfast sandwiches, hash browns, and coffee. They set everything down on an outdoor table in the sun. She was too famished to even try to pretend to eat delicately, as was her habit in front of every man except Kyle. However, she paused mid-bite to reach into her handbag and push a $10 bill across the table to Joe, thinking guiltily about Joe's apparently tenuous grip on financial security.

He pushed it back, refusing the bill. "You're in this because of me."

She said nothing as she replaced the bill in her wallet. She'd been poor too long to be stubborn about this sort of thing.

"Follow me,” he said when she was on her last few bites. “I've got something to show you that’s not exactly suitable for children." She looked up in alarm. He laughed. “Relax; it’s not
that.”
She quickly took one last bite of her hash-browns and followed Joe down the nearby hill to a grove of trees that separated the rest stop from the dirt road that led into the nearby small town. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a gun. He handed it to her.

"How did you--?”

"Remember that little errand Sean sent me on? It wasn't a trip to the post office. His sergeant-at-arms needed extra hands for a job.”

"And just like that, he helped you out?" she asked.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I smiled at him. It distracted him long enough for me to rob him blind." The corner of his full, sensuous lips, tugging back. "It doesn't just work on girls, you know."

She made a disgusted noise. "Please."

Joe looked away, laughing. "Kyle didn't teach you much about guns, did he?" he asked, a little amused. "You're doing it all wrong."

"I am not," she protested.

"Okay, okay," he said. "You're only doing it mostly wrong. Can I show you?"

She handed it over, and Joe grinned, clearly proud of himself. He cocked it, aiming it with two hands at the side of barn on the other side of the road, squinting his eyes in concentration.

Ruby stood up a little straighter as she watched him, cool and confident, so much like the Joe she had met at first, before he had taken his armor off. It briefly crossed her mind what had brought him to this kind of life, carrying a gun the way most people carry a wallet. Living with the constant knowledge that any moment, his best friends could be shot or stabbed right in front of him.

Like a stone dropping into her stomach, she remembered what Sean had said about Joe’s involvement in Kyle’s death. And even if she wasn’t prepared to ask yet, she knew she couldn’t let herself get complacent around him. A hard life made people hard, and she had to remember that.  She felt momentarily transfixed as she watched his pale hand curl around the handle of the Beretta. She had to admit that his looked so much more natural on the gun than hers did. His nails looked almost groomed, free of road grit. Must have been the gloves.

A brisk wind ruffled the branches, causing Ruby to rub her arms. Up on the hill, the sun had been shining, but it could not reach them here under the trees. Joe, concerned, noticed right away. "I'd give you my jacket, but I know you'd shiver through the ninth circle of Hell before you'd be seen in anything with a Steel Jockeys logo on it."

"What can I say?" she said, tugging at his sleeve. "We all do things we're not proud of. Hand it over." He had it off in a flash, along with the black hoodie underneath. She couldn't help nestling in the heat his body had made, the padding where his bare skin had so recently touched. She tried not to glance at the logo on the breast pocket, identifying Joe as president of the charter. Idly, she wondered how many other girls had worn it. She was probably just the latest in a long line of shameless biker whores. What was she becoming? Still, as she glanced over at Joe, who demurely looked away, as if he would prefer her not to know he liked the sight of her wearing it, she still felt warm, not cold.

He had stripped down to just his heather-gray t-shirt, which fit him well but loosely; unlike Fox, he obviously didn't feel the need to wear smaller sizes to show off every contour of his muscles. The fabric clung to his skin, highlighting the fact that he was narrow-hipped, sinewy and as tight as a washboard, his long torso arcing deliciously down from his broad shoulders. It was the first time she'd seen him without it; even last night he'd been in too much of a hurry, so to speak, to take it off. She hoped she wasn't staring.

"Do you think Sean will come after us? In Madelia?" she asked suddenly.

"No,” he replied thoughtfully. “Sean's impulsive, sure, but he didn't get where he is by being stupid. He'd never risk getting into a pissing match with another charter over a..." he hesitated, running his hands through his hair as he sometimes he did when he was at a loss for words. "Over you," he finished. She gave a rueful smirk.

"Thanks, I'm honored."

As he helped her practice her aim, explaining what she should clearly and articulately, she was only half paying attention. The wheels in her head had begun turning. It had struck her that this guy was not only charming, but intelligent. The way he had coolly and confidently thought up a plan to get them away from Sean was so far beyond what she would have expected from a run-of-the-mill biker thug.

Sure, he'd had a rough start in life, but if he'd only had the opportunity for a proper education he could have used those critical thinking skills for good. He could have been anything--a lawyer, an executive, you name it. Instead, he'd drifted into this brutal lifestyle--for the same reason Kyle had, she supposed. Because he’d been poor and desperate, an orphan, and no longer had anyone to teach him any other way or to shelter him from the rough side of life.

But Kyle had decided to get out, and she wondered if Joe had ever thought of doing that, too--even going to work for Fox. If Kyle, why not Joe? She could pull the strings to make that happen. Yes, Fox hated the Jockeys now, but Joe was different. Maybe she could convince Fox that Joe was smart, and driven, and could even be kind.

With help, Joe could really make something of himself, just as she had. And then, maybe, just maybe, Ruby could dare to act on the attraction she was terrified to admit she felt for him. The two of them could be together. They could go on a real date, at a real restaurant, like a real couple. They could be seen in her town in public. It would at last be acceptable for Ruby, for a
good
girl, to be in his life.

She ought to be ashamed of herself though, planning out a new future for him. As if Joe would listen or entertain anything he had to say. Imagine suggesting he start dressing like Chace in polo shirts and khakis and go work at a dealership. It was a ridiculous thought. He’d just laugh. He was a Steel Jockey made, if not born. She had to get that through her head--even if it meant she would, when this ordeal was over, forever have to keep her distance from him.

There was a sudden buzz. Joe touched the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone, shaking Ruby out of her thoughts. Glancing at the caller, he frowned, and Ruby gathered that it wasn't anyone he relished having a conversation with in front of her. "Stay there," he commanded, and jogged down the hill and further into the trees, still carrying the gun.

Meanwhile, feeling quite alone again, Ruby balled up the remains of their fast-food wrappers and glanced around for a garbage can. Failing to spot one and hating to litter, she shoved them into the pocket of Joe's jacket to dispose of later.

But before she could remove her hand, her finger grazed upon something in the pocket that felt heart-stoppingly familiar. Slowly, barely daring to speculate or even breathe, her chilled fingers traveled along a thin metal chain, stopping to curl around a smooth, vaguely round shape of many facets. She snatched it up.

Chest hammering, she opened her palm to find there--coiled loosely once again--her one and only ruby heart.