Page 44

CHAPTER

NINE

Banshee

We had weeks of hurry up, and wait, while in Cedar Creek, and then in a matter of a few short hours, everything we had been there for was done. The fundamentalist fuckers were pretty much no more, Dragon and Laney were back at the clubhouse, and there was no more reason for us to hang around, so after a rip-roaring party to celebrate, me, Kracken, and Scythe had hit the road so we could swing by our Dallas chapter before heading home.

As my wheels ate up the miles, my mind spinning over what Wrecker’s dream walking had revealed, I kept hoping to hear my phone ring. “Dammit, Brick, I need to know if you’ve talked to RiffRaff yet,” I growl out, passing a slow-moving car. Up ahead, I see a smaller RV and can tell the hood is up, so I motion to the guys that we’re going to stop and check the situation out.

Not because we’re necessarily good guys; in fact, most folks tend to head in the opposite direction when they see we’re Royal Bastards, but because the color of the disabled motorhome tells me it’s likely a female is the operator.

Approaching the driver’s window, I smirk when I see the female sitting in the driver’s seat. I can tell she’s muttering to herself as she scrolls through her phone, and I presume she’s trying to find help.

“Looks like the radiator’s fucked up,” Kracken helpfully calls out as I rap on the window, causing her to shriek.

As I walk over to where she’s opening the tow truck door, I grin. She’s a little slip of a thing compared to my height, but I suspect despite her stature, she’s hell on wheels. Maybe it’s the glint in her eyes, maybe it’s because even though I can see she’s obviously overwhelmed by the overflowing testosterone, she’s holding her own.

“C’mon, Rory, let’s get you and your cat inside while they check over your RV and get her fixed up,” I say, reaching up to help her down before I grab the handle of the cat carrier.

“If I didn’t say it before, I will now. Thank you, Banshee, for stopping and offering help,” she says, smiling up at me.

Her sun-kissed skin and pouty, yet kissable lips, have me discreetly adjusting myself as we make it to the open door. Once inside, I walk her over to a table, pull the chair out and motion for her to sit down before carefully placing the carrier on the floor by her feet. After I assure myself she’s okay, I turn to the man standing there patiently and grin, pulling him into a man hug.

“Raptor, appreciate y’all’s hospitality,” I tell him once we’ve pounded one another a few times.

“Let’s get you a beer,” he says. “What about your friend?” he asks.

Turning, I look at her and ask, “Rory, you want a beer or something else?”

“It’s ten in the morning, Banshee!” she exclaims, causing Raptor to throw his head back and laugh.

“It’s five somewhere, darlin’,” he retorts. “But we’ve got soda or water if it’s too early for you.”

“Water’s fine, thanks,” she replies, grinning.

We walk over to the bar where one of the club girls is working and she quickly grabs two bottles of beer, popping the tops before sliding them in our direction. “Need a water, too,” Raptor tells her before taking a long drink. “So, what’s the deal? Didn’t know any of y’all had an ol’ lady.”

“She’s not, just a woman who was broken down on the side of the road. Wanted to help her is all,” I admit, taking a pull of my own beer.

I refuse to examine the feelings that swamped me when I got my first look at her. I realized rather quickly that she’s the kind of woman my father always told me he hoped I’d find. Since that hadn’t happened yet despite being in my thirties, I honestly thought it never would. Only… after her initial fear of me knocking on her window, she had settled in and treated me like I was a regular person. Hell, she had shown all three of us her RV and taken great pride in all the extras she and her grandfather had added, which impressed the fuck out of me.

Not a scary biker, which most would likely think seeing as I was covered in tattoos, had gauges in my ears, a Mohawk, and a cut that denoted me as a member of the Royal Bastards MC.

“May wanna reconsider that, Brother, seeing as she’s got the look of one,” he advises, smirking at me.

“She’s got trouble following her,” the tow truck driver says, coming up to the two of us. I look at his cut, which he didn’t have on earlier since he was in a cage, and see he’s the club’s SAA, Phoenix.

“What do you mean?” I question, looking over at Rory. Despite being in the middle of an MC, she doesn’t look ill at ease or uncomfortable as she drinks her water, which a prospect took over to her.

Phoenix quickly fills us both in on Rory’s ex and I feel a blinding rage which has me wanting to find the asshole and beat him until he’s bloody.

Or dead.

Either works for me right now.

“Think he’ll figure out where she is?” Raptor asks, his eyes never leaving me. They’re knowing, a little too knowing if I’m honest with myself.

I shrug before saying, “No clue. I’m unsure how far she is from where her farm is to be honest.”

“Need to find out,” Raptor advises.

I nod before asking, “Do we know how long before her RV is good to go?”

“Sent a prospect off to grab the radiator, but we’re going over it to make sure everything else is good as well,” Phoenix replies, now drinking his own beer.

“Let me go ask her, because the last thing I want is to bring trouble to y’all’s door,” I say, walking away from the bar and toward her.

“Shit, I didn’t think about that,” she whispers, her horror-filled eyes staring at me.

“You’re safe here,” I promise. “Not a man here condones putting hands on a woman in anger.”

“I should just go,” she replies, standing up.

“And just how are you going to do that?” I question.

“Hell, I don’t know. I could rent a car or something,” she muses, tapping her finger against her chin.

“And risk him somehow being able to track you doing something online?” I ask.

I’m not as computer savvy as Hawg is, but even I know there are things folks can do to find someone if they want to do so.

She slumps back into the chair only to startle when a plaintive meow comes from the carrier. “Shit, I need to take her out to the RV,” she mutters. “That’s her ‘I need to go’ meow and I’m pretty sure they don’t have a litter box handy.”

I chuckle at her words then stand up, picking the carrier up in one hand while holding my other out for her. “C’mon, babe, let’s get Sassy squared away, shall we?”

I don’t examine how right her hand feels in mine, nor how I automatically lace our fingers together. Nope. Not me.

Looking around at the room Raptor gave us, I hide my smirk when I see her face flush at the king-size bed taking up a large portion of it, as I set down my saddlebags and a duffel she quickly packed.

Seems her RV needed more than just the radiator, so we’re going to be guests of the Dallas chapter for at least a week. Scythe and Kracken plan to spend a few days hanging around then head home since they’re needed. Me on the other hand? Well, I have a feisty, independent woman I want to know better and since her fucking ex burned her home, she’s going on a road trip.

To Roanoke.

With me.

She just doesn’t know it yet.

Gator, the VP, sent a prospect out to pick up what her cat was going to need, and I chuckle when I see it all set up in a corner. “Seems Sassy has all the creature comforts, huh?” I ask.

She turns and gasps when she sees they somehow managed to get one of the automated litter boxes like she uses in the RV. “That… that’s not cheap!” she exclaims, grabbing her purse. I watch in avid fascination as she pulls out a handgun, a wallet, a big ass flashlight, a tactical knife, then a checkbook. “I need to pay them back for all of this,” she mutters, now apparently rummaging for a pen which she holds up triumphantly. “Tell me how much they spent,” she demands.

As if I’ll ever let my woman pay for a fucking thing. Not likely. I realize I haven’t kissed her, felt her warm heat engulf my dick, or hell, known her for more than a handful of hours. But something my dad said when I was young hit me square in the solar plexus earlier and I realized she was it for me.

“Ban, I know you’re young now, and not thinking about shit like having an ol’ lady or a wife,” Dad said. “But you need to understand something, when it’s the right one, like your mom was for me, you’re gonna know. You don’t have to have four months’ worth of dates, or be aware of every little thing about her, you’ll get a feeling deep inside, and what it’s gonna tell you is hold on to her and never let her go. You’ll learn all that shit as you go through life together. Hell, I’m still learning stuff about your mom all the fucking time.”

Hearing her call my name brings me out of my memory and I grin. “Babe, don’t worry your pretty little head about what it costs. It’s taken care of. Same as your RV.”

Yeah, I have that as well. She needed new tires, new filters, a tune-up, and an oil change. Seems she and her grandfather had done all those things, but with it sitting in a barn, not being driven, the tires had begun to dry rot, and well, her finally taking it out on the road had caused the other issues.

“That’s not how I operate, Banshee,” she insists, waving her checkbook at me.

“Here’s the deal, Rory,” I reply, walking closer until I am practically in her personal space, “if I’m around, the female does not pay,”

“That’s… that’s rather archaic, don’t you think?” she sneers, her brow raised.

“Maybe so, but it’s how I was raised,” I state, shrugging. “My dad taught me to be that way, and at my age, I’m not about to change my habits.”

I watch her shoulders slump and realize she’s been carrying quite a load since her grandfather died. Reaching out, I lightly touch her shoulder, not expecting the jolt of awareness to fly through me.

“I just… damn, I don’t want to cry right now,” she stammers, looking down. I tilt her chin up so she’s forced to look at me. “You don’t understand, Banshee. That’s how my grampy was with me and my grams. He always took care of paying, even after I started working. Said that’s what a man does for the women in his life. You doing this for me, a virtual stranger, is something I wasn’t expecting, and the memories right now are killing me.”

Without another word, I pull her into my arms and hug her. I suspect she hasn’t had a lot of good physical contact, not if what Phoenix shared happened after her last remaining relative died. “Shhh, it’s going to be okay now. I’ve got you and I know my brothers will have you too.”

“You don’t even know me,” she stammers out through her sobs. “I could be a raving lunatic or hell, a serial killer, for all you know.”

I can’t help the chuckle that bursts forth despite her obvious distress. “That’s what life’s about, sweetheart. I suspect there’s a lot we’ll learn about each other as time goes on.”

“You’re making this sound like more than you coming to my rescue,” she accuses, pulling her head back to glare at me.

Leaning in, I kiss her nose, wishing for more but unwilling to push the issue. “Because it is.”

“How so?” she asks.

“You’re going to be mine, Rory.”