Payback (Viking Bastards MC) Read online

  “Good for you,” my auntie says with a wicked grin.

  “Really?” Mom looks so amazed it’s kind of embarrassing. “That’s great, hon. You’ve become a real recluse since you started doing your writing. Where’d you meet him? How long have you known him?”

  I knew she’d ask me all these questions. She’s always going on at me about working all the time and not having fun like my sisters. Of course, by “having fun” she doesn’t mean enjoying hot biker sex.

  “A couple of weeks.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth I know it’s a mistake. I should’ve said a few weeks. Then she wouldn’t immediately realize it’s someone I met at my new bar job.

  “Someone you met at your new job?” she says, right on cue.

  “Yeah, kind of.”

  She frowns. “What’s the matter? Something wrong?”

  “No.” Why did I tell her about my date? I could’ve just told her I wasn’t back tonight. Except I know why. And even though my head thinks it’s a bad idea, I can’t stop myself. It doesn’t matter what we say in front of my auntie; she knows everything’s that happened with us. “Mom. Do you think kids should pay for, you know, the sins of the father kind of thing?”

  For a second she looks as though I shot her through the heart. Then she’s on her feet and takes my hand. “Of course not. Don’t ever think that, Amy. What your dad did—it’s nothing to do with you. No one knows about our old life. Why do you think I made you girls take my name? You don’t ever have to tell anyone about the Wolves. You know that, don’t you?”

  Of course, I do. She’s hammered that into us enough over the years. It’s not like I ever disagreed. Why would I want to let anyone know about my past, when the Wolves turned their backs on us?

  And although she has no idea that she misunderstood my question, guilty relief streaks through me at her reply. It’s what I wanted to hear. Needed to hear. Because if I shouldn’t be held responsible for things Dad did while he was the Wolves’ enforcer, then it stands to reason Gage can’t be blamed for his dad’s actions.

  I’m clutching at straws. I’ve no idea whether Gage wants something serious with me, or if tonight is just an extended good-bye. But at least I’ve planted the seed in Mom’s mind, and if she ever meets Gage—big if—well, she said herself the old sins of the father don’t mean shit.

  Keep dreaming, Amy.

  …

  He’s waiting for me outside Odin’s, leaning against the doorframe and looking so hot and badass in leather pants, a black T-shirt, and his cut I nearly rear end an SUV. I pull into a parking space down the street, and by the time I’ve changed into my spiky-heeled boots, he’s pulling open my car door.

  “Hey, gorgeous.” His smoldering gaze rakes over me.

  “Hey.” I step out of the car into his waiting arms. God, I’ve missed him, and we’ve only been apart for a few hours. “You’re pretty gorgeous yourself.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He laughs and threads his fingers through mine, so I slap his chest with my other hand.

  “You’re still so full of it.”

  “That’s why you can’t get enough of me.” He tugs me close as we make our way to his bike, parked outside the bar. “You good to ride in that?” He eyes my short skirt, fishnet-covered legs, and leather ankle boots. “I’ve got leathers you can wear.”

  “Hell, no. I’m fine.” I’ll probably freeze, and if we’re in an accident I’ll be toast, but I was practically weaned on the back of a bike, and until I met Gage I hadn’t realized how much I missed the freedom of riding.

  Admiration glows in his eyes. “That’s my girl.”

  I love the way he says that, and can’t stop myself. “This feels like a date to me. Our second one, in fact.”

  “You got a problem with that?”

  “You said you didn’t date. I’m just trying to figure out what we’re doing here, that’s all.”

  “What do you think we’re doing?’ He grabs my other hand and pulls me toward him. “I’m taking you out and showing you off.”

  There’s no mistaking the possessive note in his voice, and I remember the way the Wolves were when they laid claim to a girl. I can’t keep comparing Gage to them. But I can’t help it. The Silver Wolves were a huge part of my life, and I’ve measured every guy I’ve known since to their standards.

  The Wolves are the reason why I’ve always avoided bikers, guys with ink or any links to a shady underworld. I didn’t want to get mixed up with someone who thinks more of his club than of me, a guy who’d never take my word above that of one of his brothers.

  The Wolves only took a girl out and showed her off if they were serious about her. Jesus, I’m doing it again. Gage isn’t a Wolf. His comment doesn’t necessarily mean anything.

  Stop jumping to conclusions, Amy…

  Somehow I drag my tumbled thoughts together. “Okay. Well, so long as I can show you off as well, I guess that’s fair.”

  He gives a snort of laughter and swings his leg over the bike. “Get on before I change my mind and tie you to my bed all night.”

  …

  Gage

  This time she wraps her body around me, and if I hadn’t already decided that tonight I’m going public with my claim on her, I would’ve made good on my threat and taken her inside.

  The Hammer is in downtown L.A., and I park in the small private lot behind the club—one of the perks of knowing the owner. I wrap my arm around Amelia, and she’s shivering so bad she can’t keep still.

  I pull her closer and whisper in her ear. “I’ll soon warm you up.”

  She nods, her teeth chattering, and I grin down at her as we approach the entrance to the club. Her gaze sweeps over the fuck-ugly brick wall, and I can guess her thoughts. “Wait until you see inside.”

  “It’s got a real unwelcoming vibe going on.”

  “Yeah. It keeps out the wrong kind of clientele.”

  She gives a huh of laughter. “Let me guess. It’s got connections to the Bastards, right?”

  “This is Ty’s baby. We’re nothing if not subtle.”

  “Like a flying brick.”

  There’s a new bouncer at the door, but he takes one look at my colors and lets us in without a word. The thudding music from the live band downstairs hits us straightaway, and as soon as we’re inside, Amelia starts fussing with her hair.

  “You look great.” I tug her around so she can see herself in the huge mirror that takes up half the wall in the small reception area. She frowns and fusses some more, forking her fingers through her hair and tugging at her bangs before heaving a sigh and shaking her head. Her earrings jiggle, catching the light, and for a second I stare, mesmerized, as a gift brainwave hits me right between the eyes.

  She pulls off her scarf and catches my gaze in the mirror. I give a satisfied smile at the marks of my possession on her throat, and she rolls her eyes in mock disgust. “Animal,” she says.

  “Don’t you forget it.” I wind my arm around her waist and head toward the iron staircase that leads to the subterranean club. The bar and seating area are on the far side, and I lead Amelia over there, away from the band and dance floor and past a small stage where a couple of strippers are doing a show.

  Amelia leans her back against the bar and surveys the club as I order our drinks. “Do you come here often?”

  “Cheesy. Is that your best chat-up line?” I take her hand and stroll toward a table with semi-circular padded couches that’ll not only give us the best view of the place, but will ensure everyone can see us. The occupants take one look at me, grab their drinks, and beat a hasty retreat.

  She gives me a frown that tells me she’s not impressed. I shrug, sit on the center of the couch and then pull her onto my lap. There are some things she’s just going to have to get used to now that she’s my girl.

  “Huh.” She wriggles as though she’s trying to get comfortable, and my hard-on just keeps on getting harder. “Okay, Mr. Macho, I’m not that easily distracted.”

  I slide
my hand beneath her pink cardigan. She’s wearing something silky underneath, and it takes a few tugs before it pulls free of her skirt. “What’s that?” I’m kind of distracted myself as I finally connect with naked skin.

  She sighs and winds her arm around my neck. “You. Here. Often?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “You don’t bring all your hookups here?”

  My fingers caress her waist under cover of her cardigan, and it’s hard not going any further. But there’s no way I’m going to allow any other guy to see more of her gorgeous body.

  I catch her gaze. She’s smiling, but there’s an odd tension, as though there’s more to her question than she’s letting on.

  Enough with the fucking about. I lean in close and kiss her earlobe, and she gives a little shiver. “You’re the only chick I’ve ever brought here.”

  She pulls back, just enough so she’s looking at me, and there’s a startled expression on her face, as though she hadn’t guessed the significance of tonight. Sometimes I forget she doesn’t know the unspoken rules, since she fits in so well with my life.

  “That sounds…” She bites her lip for a second. “Special.”

  “Too right.” I give a smile of thanks to the chick who brings our beer, but have no interest in taking her up on the unspoken offer in her eyes. Been there a couple of months ago, and we both knew it was a one-time thing only. I push a strand of Amelia’s hair from her cheek and tuck it behind her ear. Why do I need any other girl when I have her?

  Her fingers stroke the back of my neck, threading through my hair, and it’s driving me crazy.

  “I never expected any of this.” There’s a strangely wistful note in her voice that I don’t understand because it almost sounds as though she doesn’t want more from me than a side-alley screw.

  “I might only date nice boys, but tonight I’m with you.”

  That’s what she said in the alley. I didn’t like it at the time, but now the words thunder around my head, crashing through my mellow vibe. It’s fucking insane—why should I care if all she wants is hot sex?

  That’s all I’ve ever wanted in the past.

  I chug down half the beer, but it doesn’t help with sorting out the shit pounding in my mind. She’s frowning at me like she doesn’t understand what the problem is, and I slam the bottle back on the table and cradle her face in my hand.

  If she wants me to spell it out for her, I will. “We’re dating, Amelia. You and me. And just so you know, I don’t share well, so don’t even think about going out with one of your nice boys again.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Amelia

  My face is hot, and my heart’s pounding, and I don’t think I could move if the roof caved in.

  Gage Reynolds, member of the Viking Bastards, just told me he’s serious about me.

  He’s wrong for me on so many levels that I can’t even. But he’s all I want. If only there wasn’t bad blood and history between our families, this’d be the most perfect moment of my life, but I can’t keep my head in the sand for much longer.

  I can’t tell him right this second, though. Not in public. Not here.

  “I don’t share too well, either.”

  The harsh frown on his face fades into a grin. “Is that right?”

  This can work. It’s a fierce promise, and I shove the creeping doubt to the back of my mind. I’ll work out the best way to break the news to him, to tell him who I really am. It shouldn’t be too hard, once I’ve gotten him in the right mood…

  “Don’t think you can take a succession of girls out into the side alley anymore.”

  He scoffs. “How many chicks have you seen me take out there during the last two weeks?”

  I’m about to scoff back at him when it hits me—I haven’t. And the one time I thought I had, he’d been helping the girl with her date.

  “Huh.” That’s kind of knocked me sideways. “Okay, then.”

  “You’re gonna pay for that later.”

  I probably will, and I’m definitely not complaining. But I’m not letting him get away with it completely. “All right, so you don’t shit in your own backyard.” Except with me. I try and keep a straight face. “That doesn’t mean you haven’t been getting it somewhere else.”

  “I should’ve. But guess what—I was waiting for you to come to your senses.”

  He’s laughing at me, and even though I smile back, inside I’m reeling. He seriously went without sex for two weeks because he wanted me?

  Sure, he could be lying, but there’s no reason why he would. I’m here with him, and I’m not going anywhere, and he knows that.

  I tug his head forward until our breath mingles. “Good thing I was worth waiting for.”

  “You have no idea.” His kiss is hot and tender, which shouldn’t even be possible. But nothing with Gage should be possible. My eyes drift shut, and I trail my palm over his jaw, his stubble chafing my hand, and his fingers are warm and firm against my waist.

  I shift on his lap, and his erection brands me with rigid heat. I grin at the image, and he pulls back just enough to break our kiss.

  “Something funny?’ His voice is raw and sexy, and I wriggle again, just to torture him a little more.

  “I was just thinking that your cock is like a rod of iron.”

  The expression on his face is priceless, and I can’t help a little snort of laughter. Obviously, no one’s ever told him that before, but since I’ve never said anything like that in the past, I guess we’re even.

  “Is that the kind of stuff you put in your books?”

  “Ha ha. That would be a no.”

  He hauls me even closer, his hand on my thigh, just skimming the hem of my skirt. “Are you using me for research?”

  “Would you mind if I did?”

  “Hell, no.” His smile is lethal and makes me wet and needy. How long before we can leave? “You got a website or something?”

  I blink, disorientated. Weren’t we just talking about sexy times? “A website?”

  “Yeah. For your books. I looked you up and couldn’t find anything.”

  He looked me up? My stomach flips, and I press my thighs together in the vain hope that’ll help my thinking process. All it does is make me need him more than ever.

  And then, through the thud of desire, I understand what he means.

  Nerves spike through my chest. Just tell him. Not that I want to have the big conversation right now, but at least it’ll plant a seed in his mind…won’t it?

  “I, uh, write under another name.” That’s pathetic.

  His fingers are stroking my thigh, but surprisingly he’s not sliding higher to grab my ass, and it’s not because we’d be thrown out if he did. There are a few couples who’re making out so heavily they need to get a room.

  “What name? Amy?”

  My courage fails, and I sit up and rescue my purse. “Yes. Do you want a card?” I whip one out before he can answer, and thrust it at him without looking at his face. My heart’s hammering so hard it’s hurting my ribs.

  “Amy Crane?” There’s no hint that Crane means anything to him.

  “Davis is my mom’s name.”

  “What, so you picked Crane out of your ass?” He shoves the card into his pocket and then resumes playing with my thigh.

  How easy if I could just say yes.

  “Um, no. It was my dad’s name.” I hold my breath. I don’t want him to jump to conclusions yet. I just want to give him a little clue, that’s all.

  Comprehension dawns, but not the kind that brings back memories of ten years ago. Shock stabs through me, and for the first time I wonder…does Gage even know the name of my dad? Or is he just another anonymous victim of his father’s violent past?

  “Right.” He pulls me close and rubs his jaw against my head, and my tense muscles relax. Even though he doesn’t say anything else, he doesn’t need to. The way he’s holding me and stroking my waist means more than any awkward words.

  I lean against his bro
ad chest. He’s rock-hard all over, and I feel safe cocooned in his strong arms. He hands me my beer, and I take a long swallow before idly glancing around the club.

  From its name, I’d imagined a Viking inspired place dedicated to Thor, but it’s dark and gothic, although it doesn’t continue the vampire theme from the black iron mirror with the Dracula image that’s upstairs. The small raised stage with the exotic dancers is bathed in a pale glow, and vintage metal and glass lanterns are dotted around this end of the club.

  It’s cool.

  During the following hour, a few guys stop by and pass the time with Gage, who introduces me as his girl, Amelia. I nod and smile and keep my mouth shut. I know what he’s doing—showing off his property and marking his territory. And while a part of me is spitting bricks at the macho shit going on, another part understands. The part that grew up in this lifestyle, and knows the thing that counts is what happens behind closed doors.

  It’s like a rite of passage. No one he knows will try anything with me now. My status in their eyes is elevated from casual lay to a total hands-off zone.

  It’s everything I’ve avoided. It’s why I’ve only dated guys who wore suits and drove cars. But the truth is, I can’t escape my roots. This life is in my blood, no matter how much I wish it wasn’t, except when it comes to Gage everything I never wanted is turned on its head.

  A couple of bikers pause by the dancers. I guess they’re Bastards, although I don’t recognize them. Then one turns his back, and disbelief slams through me.

  No way.

  Even though the lighting isn’t great, there’s no mistaking the colors. Every detail of that patch is scored into my heart. Even now, when I close my eyes I can see the magnificent tattoo that covered my dad’s back.

  He’s a fucking Silver Wolf.

  I grip my bottle of beer with suddenly sweaty fingers. What the hell are Wolves doing in a Bastards’ club? I don’t know who he is, so the chances he’d know me are zero. And even if he was hanging around the Wolves more than ten years ago, it’s not likely he’d remember me, a skinny kid with braids and braces.