Bared: Dirty Cruisers MC Read online

  “Things are…complicated with the Cruisers right now. So why don’t we all play nice and get along, sugar.” Hot Wheels sent a forced smile in his direction, more of a smirk than anything else and as she skimmed the crowd her heart skipped as her pale green eyes landed on him. Sparkplug. He was standing towards the back of the room, leaning against a wall. And his heated gaze never left her as she walked closer, too casually.

  “We don’t care about your little in house drama. We only care about one thing,” the biker said again.

  “Well, about that,” Hot Wheels started, smirking again even though she could feel the bile rise in her throat, “Joel sent me to tell you. In regards to the so-called ‘deal’ you offered this morning. He wanted me to tell you, and mind darlins’ these are his exact words, ‘There’s no way in hell that I would ever make a deal with you, you pussy scumbags. So, you can all just go fuck yourselves.’.” Hot Wheels grinned then, with far more bravado than she felt. “Aw, who am I kidding? That last bit was all me.”

  “Why, you little bitch–” it was the same biker. He started to leap forward, to rush towards her but another voice cut through the room, instantly stopping him.

  “Enough, Treck,” the voice was low and authoritative and surprisingly cultured for a bunch of bottom of the barrel biker’s. “I said enough.”

  Finally, the man, this Treck, took a reluctant step back, and then another, throwing his hands up as if to say he gave up. Hot Wheels didn’t buy it for a moment. She could still see the violence swirling in his eyes, the way his gaze tracked her every movement. But he wasn’t her problem. The man who’d just spoken, however, was. Because she knew he was the president of the Nomads.

  “Damaris!” she called out, peering into the shadowed space where the voice had come from, “Damaris, is that you, you old rascal? I thought you knew how to treat a lady.”

  “A lady, yes. A thief and a liar? Well, let’s just say I know what to do with those too, and you really wouldn’t like it,” the president said, sliding closer as he spoke. It had surprised Hot Wheels, the first time she’d seen him, just how short he was. A good four or five inches shorter than she herself was. But that didn’t mean anything. He was quick to use that knife he kept at his belt if anyone ever stepped out of line. They rarely did.

  “Joel won’t stand for it, Damaris. You’re wasting your breath trying to convince him to deal dirty with you.” Hot Wheels said, once more putting on a brave face, when inside she felt cold with fear.

  “It’s a pity. I so didn’t want it to end this way,” the president said, sounding unconcerned but all of a sudden he was moving as fast as a viper, drawing the wicked looking knife and holding the tip against her throat, “He’ll take the deal, one way or the other, or we’ll take the farm. Take care of Hot Wheels here,” he said, putting away the knife as if he hadn’t just threatened her with it. “And make sure you treat her like the lady she really is.”

  “What the he–” but before she could even get the words out she was being grabbed from behind. With a cry she threw her foot back, hard, and it landed with a satisfying crunch but it wasn’t enough to have whoever it was let her go. Hot Wheels struggled as hard as she could but it was no use. Her strength was no match for the man who grabbed her, dragging her with malicious intent towards a back room.

  “Let me go you overgrown…Oof!” Her arms wind milled as she was suddenly released and went flying forwards as momentum carried her in the opposite direction. Hot Wheels looked back in shock to see Sparkplug with the man who’d had a hold her, Treck, held tight in a headlock.

  “Go, Wheels, get out of here,” Sparkplug growled at her as he jerked against the struggling Treck. “You have to go, before…”

  “Come on now, Sparky, you really don’t want to do this,” Damaris said, watching with a vapid unconcern that Hot Wheels envied, “You’re making a big mistake.”

  But Hot Wheels didn’t even seem to hear his president’s words, didn’t even look in his leader’s direction. His eyes were locked on hers, begging with her, pleading with her. Finally, she took a small step backwards toward the exit, and then another.

  “Go, Hot Wheels,” Sparkplug said, anger and resignation hard in his deep voice, “Get the fuck out of here, now!” It was the force of his words that propelled her forward, well, that and the ten big hulky bikers that started moving threatening towards her. She didn’t even want to imagine what her fate would be if they caught her. She wasn’t about to give them the chance. With one last, anguished look at Sparkplug, who even now was being pulled off of Treck by two other members, Hot Wheels turned and fled.

  As she ran to her bike, threw her legs over and started the ignition she had to wipe the tears from her eyes to clear her vision. She had to get back to the farm. She had to tell Joel and Carla what had happened. Dread and guilt sat hard in the pit of her stomach. This was definitely not her idea of taking care of things. Because the fact was, she just may have sparked a war between the Nomads and the Dirty Cruisers and another fact was that the Cruisers might not be there to fight if it came to it.

  With the split in the crew, she didn’t know anymore who was loyal to the Cruisers, and who was just loyal to that asshole Viper. But either way, it didn’t bode well for them. The Nomads might be scumbags, but they were well organized scumbags, and with the Dirty Cruisers fractured, they wouldn’t stand a chance. Shit. She had to tell Joel, Hot Wheels thought as she revved the engine and raced away from the Nomad’s warehouse. He had to know what was coming.

  ***

  Damaris watched the scene unfold before him like he was watching a play, and in a way he was. Each person an actor playing his or her part. He had to say that Hot Wheels had played hers masterfully. He’d been searching and searching for the match to strike against the Dirty Cruisers and that fucking farm they were working on. And she had wrapped it in a pretty pink bow and delivered it straight to his doorstep. He couldn’t have planned it better himself.

  He waved his hand briefly through the air and his men released Sparkplug. He was a good member of the crew, or he had been before he’d gotten caught up on a certain blond and his loyalties had shifted. He’d been all too easy to manipulate, the both of them despicably predictable as his game played out. Boring, almost. And he hated being bored.

  “What do you want us to do with him, boss?” Treck asked eagerly. He was always eager. Young, inexperienced. Like a puppy always bouncing around the big dogs, trying to fit into the pack.

  “Let him go.”

  “Wha– What? Are you serious? Just let him go?”

  Damaris took a step towards him, that was all, just a single step but the man flinched as if he’d brandished his knife under his throat. The girl hadn’t even flinched, but Treck was practically sniveling.

  “Did. I. Stutter?” he asked, enunciating each word. He waited until Treck shook his head in denial before resuming his seat, “Then let him go. He’s served his purpose,” Damaris watched as the men reluctantly followed his orders and Sparkplug turned, walking away without looking back. It was a shame to lose him. But he didn’t have a choice, now. “If I ever see you again, Sparkplug, I’ll gut you myself and feed you to the dogs.”

  Sparkplug paused for a bare moment, nodded once in acknowledgement before continuing on, unfazed by his threat. A damn shame.

  “Scorpion, take a couple of the members and follow our guest back to the farm,” Damaris said, still staring after the spot that Sparkplug had just disappeared from, “Let’s give them a new message. A message they won’t ever forget.”

  “Of course, Damaris. Right away,” Scorpion said, as emotionless as ever. Damaris knew the man wouldn’t take any pleasure in doing his job, he would just be following orders, and that’s why he trusted him the most. With a wave of his hand, Scorpion, and a handful of others were riding off in the direction of Honey Bud Farms, right on the delectable Hot Wheels’ tail.

  Chapter 21

  Elle could only pay half a mind to the forms in front of her
. Her thoughts kept going again and again to what had happened earlier. That biker, Scorpio or whatever Joel had said his name was, had been mere moments from hurting Honey. She knew it. Something she felt in her bones. A gut instinct that she knew was true no matter how much Honey wanted to deny it. Or blame her for putting herself at risk.

  That thought just made her temper flare, again. Whenever she remembered the high handed way he’d tried to talk down to her. The nerve! To tell her that she had no right! No right to try and save him, to try and help him. No right to, well, do the right thing. It was infuriating. He was infuriating.

  She hadn’t spoken to him since earlier, he’d spent the day working in the greenhouse and then disappeared out into the fields an hour ago, and she’d spent the day working in the office. Well, trying to work at least. She hadn’t been very successful so far. Thoughts of him kept her distracted. Partly because she didn’t know what to say to him, how to convince him that she didn’t need him to afraid for her, and partly because, well, because he was right. A little bit. A very little bit. Sometimes, she did put herself in risky situations but look who was talking! He was a member of a notorious biker gang, for Pete’s sake!

  As if he’d never taken a risk or done something dangerous before. Elle shook her head. It was the same argument she’d been having with herself all afternoon, and it still hadn’t gotten her any closer to forgiving him. Not that he’d asked for forgiveness, or had even apologized! He was just the most…the most infuriating man she’d ever met. And what was worse was that she still wanted him. Desperately.

  What is wrong with me? she asked herself, but no answer came. Instead all she heard was the sound of a motorcycle engine driving up to the farm and the sound had a shot of fear flying through her as memories from earlier filled her.

  Elle jumped up and leapt to the window, sighing in relief as she caught the familiar rebellious expression on Hot Wheels face as she parked her bike and slid to her feet. She had barely had time to take a step before Elle was racing out to meet her, Carla not far behind.

  “Hot Wheels, what are you doing back already?” Carla asked as she jogged close enough so that she didn’t have to yell the words, “How did it go?”

  “How did it go? How did it go!” Hot Wheels raved, throwing her helmet on the ground as she kicked up a cloud of dust with the toe of her black leather boot, “Not fucking good, that’s how it went.”

  “Oh,” Elle said as she came to a stop, the word slipping out before she’d realized she had spoken.

  “Oh? We’re about to go to war with the Nomads and all you can say is ‘oh’?” Hot Wheels sneered, glaring at her through a sheen of tears, “What the hell are you even doing here, Elle? Don’t you have to go teach some rich, privileged kids a useless skill?”

  “Hey!” Carla said, stepping forward with one hand raised between them, “That’s enough, Wheels. Just tell us what happened.”

  “Where’s Joel?” she shot back, “I need to talk to Joel.”

  “He went back to the Cruisers.” Carla sighed, “He thought he might be able to talk to some of the guys that are still loyal to him, to the crew.”

  “Well, we all better hope that he finds some. More than some. An army would be preferable.”

  “Hot Wheels, what happened?” Elle asked, repeating Carla’s question as she took a step forward. She didn’t take offense at the other woman’s harsh words. It was obvious that she was upset, barely holding back the flood of tears shining in her pale green eyes.

  “I went to the Nomads, like Joel asked,” Hot Wheels started, taking a deep breath to try and get a hold of her riotous emotions, “Things didn’t go as well as we might have hoped. The president of the Nomads threw down the gauntlet, Carla. He wants a cut, and one way or the other, he said he’s going to get it, even…even if he has to take the farm for himself.”

  “What?” Carla gasped, shaking her head in dismay, “He can’t…he can’t do that.”

  “He’s the leader of one of the worst gangs in the area, Carla. He can pretty much do what he wants–” Hot Wheels words were interrupted by another approaching rumble and her face fell as dread flooded her features, “Oh, shit.”

  “Oh shit?” Elle whispered, “What’s ‘oh shit’?”

  Hot Wheels just pointed towards the opening in the drive as five large bikers rode in, “That’s oh shit.”

  They were all big, the one at the front the biggest by far, and none of them where Dirty Cruisers. They had to be members of the Nomads. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach Elle watched as they circled the small group of woman, the one at the front finally close enough for her to recognize.

  “Scorpio,” she said softly, her mouth suddenly going dry.

  “It’s Scorpion, actually, sweetheart,” the big man said, still circling around her with the four other bikers. “Don’t worry, though. After today you won’t have any problems remembering my name.”

  “W–Why?” Elle asked despite Hot Wheels hissed advice to keep her mouth shut.

  “Boys, why don’t we show the pretty lady why they won’t ever forget us, huh?” At his words the other bikers whooped excitedly, three of them breaking off and that’s when Elle noticed that they all had baseball bats and metal rods with them.

  She watched in horror, helpless as the Nomads set about destroying everything that was within their reach, smashing equipment, plants, and the machines without prejudice. Nothing was safe from them as they tore the farm apart, right in front of their eyes. It wasn’t until one of the men went rushing into the greenhouse that Carla reacted.

  Elle watched wide eyed as Carla ran after him, yelling at him to stop, begging with him but there was no reasoning with the men and the others quickly joined in, breaking the fragile glass of the building’s walls. Elle’s heart broke for her friend as tears started to run in a steady stream down Carla’s cheeks as she watched all of her dreams and hard work were destroyed and she couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch it happen.

  Elle was so distracted that she didn’t even hear the approaching footsteps until a large shadow fell over her. With a gasp she spun around, twisting her ankle on the uneven ground but she didn’t move her gaze from the big man who was suddenly standing far too close to her.

  “Wh–what do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, hating the fear and weakness in her voice. She couldn’t see Hot Wheels or Carla now even though she could still hear the telltale sounds of destruction coming from behind her.

  “Did you mean what you said earlier?” Scorpion asked, stepping even closer. She tried to back up, the twinge in her ankle stopping her.

  “What did I say?” Delay him. Keep him talking. Hopefully Honey would notice the noise and come running. She prayed, just this once, that he would be there to save her because she had a sinking feeling in her stomach that she wouldn’t be able to talk herself out of this one.

  “What you said about me believing in myself. That I was important.” There was something in his dark eyes that said this meant something to him, even though for the life of her she couldn’t figure out why. But she still nodded her head.

  “Of course,” she said quickly, desperately searching for a way to escape. He kept walking towards her, backing her up closer to the empty office. “I always say what I mean. And I think that everyone is important.”

  “No! No,” he shouted, obviously fighting to moderate his tone but his outburst still had a new wave of fear rushing dizzily through her, “You said I was important. Me. Not anyone else.” He tilted his head to one side, “Did you mean it?”

  Elle stared at him, wondering what she could possibly say to get herself out of this mess. He was a foot and half taller than her and as wide as the tool shed that was currently being dismantled and smashed to pieces. Finally, she took a deep breath, nodding, shaking too much to form words. She jerked back as he reached out a hand, sliding it across her cheek.

  “I meant what I said, too.” Scorpion leaned close, inhaling a lock of he
r hair, “You are pretty.”

  “Th–Thanks,” Elle forced out after he stared at her, waiting for some sort of answer. He took another step forward and she cried out, more in terror than in pain, as her back ran into the outer wall of the office. That was it. There was nowhere else to go. No other way to escape him.

  He leaned forward then, grabbing her arms and jerking her off of her feet as he slammed her so hard against the wall that all the air rushed painfully out of her lungs and she knew she’d have bruises across her upper arms, and her ribs where it had dug in.

  “I also told you something else, earlier. You should have listened to me,” Scorpion shook his head sadly, as if he was disappointed in her, “I told you that there would be consequences.”

  Elle closed her eyes tight against whatever was coming. She’d rather not know. It seemed easier to face somehow. But one moment Scorpion was there, holding her in the air in a bruising grip, and the next he was gone and she was dropping like a dead weight back down to earth. She landed with a jarring force, pain shooting up her ankle. Her eyes flew open in shock and widened ever more as they saw him.