Page 27 of Chaos Bound
He sighed, his body sinking into the bed. “Got the shoulder piece when I was in the street gang and the body piece when I was wanting to show the Sinners I was as badass as them. The sleeve I got with Tank when I got patched into the club. We got them together. Me on the right. Him on the left, so when we walked together we were like one person, not two. It was his idea. I couldn’t say no to him. If he’d wanted to get our faces tatted, I woulda done that, too.”
Laughing softly, she massaged his head again. She’d never had anyone to look after other than herself. Her mother was rarely alone and every time she overdosed, someone else called the ambulance. Naiya visited her in the hospital each time, wished she could feel something other than anger when the doctors said she was slowly killing herself, and one day her body wouldn’t be able to take it anymore. And when her mother was lucid enough to ask her to bring her drugs, she left desolate in the knowledge even the near-death experience hadn’t been enough to turn the tide. In the contest between Naiya and narcotics, the narcotics always won.
She felt safe now. Secure. Despite what she’d done to Holt, he hadn’t even raised his voice. And when he’d pulled out the chair and told her with only a grumble not to do it again, she carefully laid down the knife she had clenched in her hand, ready to defend herself if he flew into a rage. For the briefest of moments, she had allowed herself to wonder what would have happened if the kiss in the motel had been real.
Still lost in the daydream of that kiss, she leaned over and pressed her lips to the one section of untouched skin beneath his shoulder. “He missed this.”
Holt tensed beneath her, and she jerked away. “I’m sorry.”
He rolled to his back, seemingly unconcerned by the undressed wounds. “You kissed me.”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“This morning, before you jabbed that needle into my arm, you kissed me.” He traced his thumb over the bow of her lips.
Naiya’s face heated and she crumpled the soft cotton bedspread in her hand. “I… needed to distract you.”
“Soft lips,” he whispered, his gaze searching her face.
She looked down, trembled, wanting more, afraid to ask. For years after that brutal night with Viper, she’d stayed away from men, and then she met Ally who had gently encouraged her to start dating again. Naiya had gone from one extreme to another, trying to reclaim herself by sleeping with as many men as she could to erase Viper’s mark on her soul. After that soul-destroying experience, she’d dated casually, men who were quiet and unthreatening. Men unlike Viper. Even then, intimacy had eluded her, as had the ability to enjoy sex. And when feelings began to emerge that she couldn’t understand, she ended it.
Holt pushed himself up and cupped her jaw with his hand, tilting her head back until she was lost in the depths of his piercing eyes, a blue so clear she thought she could see into his soul.
“Soft,” he murmured. “Sweet.”
Her heart pounded, blood thundering through her veins. She’d never felt desire like this, never let a man touch her in a way she hadn’t directed, never been held so firmly she could do nothing but stare. He’d already pushed her boundaries in the motel, and yet she sensed that was nothing compared to what would happen if she let him in. Despite her fear, she wanted to touch him, taste him, and make her fantasy real. Drawing in a shuddering breath, she leaned closer.
Holt’s fingers tightened on her jaw and his gaze dropped to her lips. Then he gently pushed her away and fell back on the bed with a groan. “Get out, darlin’. Go.”
Shock swept through her, followed by a sickening wave of humiliation. The one and only time she’d put herself out there, she got the door slammed in her face.
Well, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her pain. She’d been stupid to even think he’d be interested in someone like her. Bikers went for the girly girls, with big boobs and bigger hair, tight clothes, high heels, and snappy comebacks. She’d never seen a sweet butt at the clubhouse dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, her hair in a pony tail, face clean of makeup, nails bitten to the quick, and her feet bare.
Know thyself. Her grandmother had cross-stitched a tea towel with that saying, and Naiya had taken it to heart. She wasn’t girly or particularly pretty. She would never achieve glamour or excitement, or play the games she’d watched her friends play, but she could make a difference in her own way. Once she got a job, she could make the world a better place, help catch the criminals who sold drugs, ran guns, and committed murder. Criminals like the bikers. Like Holt.
“Let me know if you need anything else.” She kept her voice calm and even as she pushed herself off the bed, remembering the first aid kit only when it hit the floor with a soft thunk. Unable to face Holt again, she kept walking. She’d pretty much dressed all his wounds. If he wanted more treatment, he could damn well do it himself.
“Naiya. Wait.”
But she didn’t wait. Couldn’t wait. A black hole had opened in her chest and was sucking her in. She needed to keep moving, make a plan. No more of this impulsive bullshit. It wasn’t her, and it definitely wasn’t how she wanted to live her life.
“Night, Holt.” She closed the door behind her and made her way down the hall. Maybe a few hours on the Internet to check bus routes out of the state and places she could go while she job-searched online would calm her down. She’d never left Montana before, but California appealed. Warm. Sunny. She could sit by the ocean and listen to the surf. Ally had given her some money to tide her over until she could arrange things with her bank—without her ID and bank cards, she would have to jump through several hoops to access her accounts and that would take time.
She looked back at the closed door and sighed. For a moment she’d been lured into thinking she could lean on someone else, that she wasn’t alone. But that wasn’t the lesson she’d learned at the Black Jack clubhouse.
And she would be a fool to forget it.
NINE
Holt woke up in a bad mood.
No, scratch that. Worse than bad. And it wasn’t helped by the fact he had woken up alone after spending the night with a hard on that just wouldn’t quit. He’d beat that puppy into submission enough times that his dick was chafed and sore, but damned if he hadn’t woken up in the morning in the middle of a hot dream about Naiya, and he had to deal with the situation all over again.
Maybe it was the three months of forced abstinence. Or maybe it was the relief of knowing that vital appendage was in full working order. Or maybe it was the woman who embodied all his fantasies, and called to his deepest protective instincts. He still couldn’t believe he’d told her to leave. When had he ever asked a woman to leave before he’d fucked her silly? But he wanted her so bad, he needed to be firm to keep her safe. Thank fuck she’d got the message because the things he wanted to do to her…
He found Naiya in the living room, stuffing clothes into her backpack beside a neatly folded pile of blankets and a pillow.
“Why the fuck did you sleep on the couch?”
