Silver Bastard
Page 36
I was very, very glad to have him on my side.
Then the figure stepped into the ring of light surrounding the porch. Puck. I felt an innapropriate thrill, remembering all too well how he’d kissed me earlier . . . Hard hands cupping my face. Raw need in his eyes and the frustration written across his every move.
Now he waited for me in the darkness.
I wasn’t sure whether I should be relieved that we weren’t about to get murdered, or scared, because whatever Puck’s intentions were, they wouldn’t be pure and innocent. Meet him head-on, I decided. Never show a biker weakness.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, challenging him. “Not enough that Boonie trips me while I’m trying to work? And don’t deny it—I saw the look on his face.”
“Thought you might need a ride home,” he replied, his voice soft and deep. “And I happened to be passing by. Figured I’d wait.”
“What are you, some kind of fucking stalker?” Danielle demanded bluntly.
“Danielle, I can handle this,” I protested.
“So handle it,” she muttered. “I’m ready to go home and he’s in my way.”
Puck’s face hardened and I realized we were headed down a dark path here. Danielle was brave and loyal, but her sense of preservation was lacking. Throw in the fact that Blake was always ready to throw down, and Puck . . . Well, best not to go there.
“Danielle, he saved my ass today,” I said quickly, shifting out of tough girl mode. “It’s all good. He just caught me off guard and I’m tired. And Puck, it’s really nice of you to offer, but—”
I stopped talking abruptly. Danielle and Blake obviously wanted some time together, but she was such a good friend she’d run me home first. That meant close to an extra forty minutes of driving for her in the dead of night, all so I wouldn’t have to spend time with Puck.
She’d do it without a second thought, too—that’s the kind of person she was. But should I really be asking her to just because he sort of scared me?
“You know what? A ride would be great,” I told him, forcing myself to smile. Blake shot me a quick glance as Danielle started protesting again.
“You don’t need—”
“Let’s go,” Puck replied, reaching out and catching my hand. Then I was tagging along after him across the parking lot. Danielle squawked and Blake grabbed her. I heard them arguing in loud whispers and figured she was about ten seconds away from launching a one-woman jihad against Puck.
Fortunately we’d almost reached his bike. He paused, looking at me, his face thoughtful.
“If you want out, now’s the time,” he said in a low voice, and I wondered if he meant more than just a ride. What did I want? I was tired, my feet hurt, and Puck smelled good.
I glanced back at my best friend—still arguing with Blake. I needed to shut this down.
“Danielle, it’s fine,” I said, projecting my voice across the parking lot. “Puck can give me a ride and you can go to Blake’s place. Don’t worry.”
She stilled and Blake wrapped his arm around her neck, pulling her body into his. He didn’t say anything, just waited for her to make the decision to back down. She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms.
“If you do anything to her I’ll get you, Redhouse,” she threatened. Damn. Danielle was fierce.
“Take your woman home,” Puck told Blake. Danielle sputtered but Puck ignored her, pulling me toward the Harley parked around the side of the building. Then he was on it, kicking it to life as I stood there, frozen, because I’d made a serious miscalculation. For some reason, I’d assumed he had his truck.
I hadn’t been on a bike for five years.
They’d been a huge part of my life, growing up. Hell, Mom had a picture of me on one when I was a baby. For all I knew, the man holding me had been my father—she’d never said either way, and the one time I’d asked, she’d told me to shut my fucking mouth. Maybe he was just another in my string of “daddies.” Impossible to know.
Now Puck wanted me on the back of his bike. I remembered my arms wrapped tight around his stomach that day we’d left California, face buried in his back, trembling in pain and fear. I’d cried for hours, not that it mattered. We started riding and kept riding, stopping only for gas and the occasional smoke. They’d wanted to get the hell out of Longnecks territory before someone decided to come after me.
Not that the Silver Bastards were running scared.
Never.
But they’d had better things to do than get into a war over a random girl they’d picked up at a party.
“Get on,” Puck said, turning to look at me. His face was shadowed, but I swore his eyes burned like coals. What had I been thinking, agreeing to go anywhere with him? Had I lost my mind?
Maybe.
But maybe I was just being a giant wuss. Danielle and Blake deserved some time together.
“Okay,” I said, throwing my leg over the bike. I took a deep breath and wrapped my arms around his stomach, trying not to think about how tight and hard it still was. No beer gut here. Puck pulled out of the parking lot and onto the blacktop.
Then we were flying through the night.
—
It’s funny how you build the things that scare you up in your mind.
I’d been flinching every time I heard a bike for years. They represented everything bad about my childhood—the pain, the fear . . . Sometimes they represented the good. The Silver Bastards. Puck watching over me.
Then the figure stepped into the ring of light surrounding the porch. Puck. I felt an innapropriate thrill, remembering all too well how he’d kissed me earlier . . . Hard hands cupping my face. Raw need in his eyes and the frustration written across his every move.
Now he waited for me in the darkness.
I wasn’t sure whether I should be relieved that we weren’t about to get murdered, or scared, because whatever Puck’s intentions were, they wouldn’t be pure and innocent. Meet him head-on, I decided. Never show a biker weakness.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, challenging him. “Not enough that Boonie trips me while I’m trying to work? And don’t deny it—I saw the look on his face.”
“Thought you might need a ride home,” he replied, his voice soft and deep. “And I happened to be passing by. Figured I’d wait.”
“What are you, some kind of fucking stalker?” Danielle demanded bluntly.
“Danielle, I can handle this,” I protested.
“So handle it,” she muttered. “I’m ready to go home and he’s in my way.”
Puck’s face hardened and I realized we were headed down a dark path here. Danielle was brave and loyal, but her sense of preservation was lacking. Throw in the fact that Blake was always ready to throw down, and Puck . . . Well, best not to go there.
“Danielle, he saved my ass today,” I said quickly, shifting out of tough girl mode. “It’s all good. He just caught me off guard and I’m tired. And Puck, it’s really nice of you to offer, but—”
I stopped talking abruptly. Danielle and Blake obviously wanted some time together, but she was such a good friend she’d run me home first. That meant close to an extra forty minutes of driving for her in the dead of night, all so I wouldn’t have to spend time with Puck.
She’d do it without a second thought, too—that’s the kind of person she was. But should I really be asking her to just because he sort of scared me?
“You know what? A ride would be great,” I told him, forcing myself to smile. Blake shot me a quick glance as Danielle started protesting again.
“You don’t need—”
“Let’s go,” Puck replied, reaching out and catching my hand. Then I was tagging along after him across the parking lot. Danielle squawked and Blake grabbed her. I heard them arguing in loud whispers and figured she was about ten seconds away from launching a one-woman jihad against Puck.
Fortunately we’d almost reached his bike. He paused, looking at me, his face thoughtful.
“If you want out, now’s the time,” he said in a low voice, and I wondered if he meant more than just a ride. What did I want? I was tired, my feet hurt, and Puck smelled good.
I glanced back at my best friend—still arguing with Blake. I needed to shut this down.
“Danielle, it’s fine,” I said, projecting my voice across the parking lot. “Puck can give me a ride and you can go to Blake’s place. Don’t worry.”
She stilled and Blake wrapped his arm around her neck, pulling her body into his. He didn’t say anything, just waited for her to make the decision to back down. She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms.
“If you do anything to her I’ll get you, Redhouse,” she threatened. Damn. Danielle was fierce.
“Take your woman home,” Puck told Blake. Danielle sputtered but Puck ignored her, pulling me toward the Harley parked around the side of the building. Then he was on it, kicking it to life as I stood there, frozen, because I’d made a serious miscalculation. For some reason, I’d assumed he had his truck.
I hadn’t been on a bike for five years.
They’d been a huge part of my life, growing up. Hell, Mom had a picture of me on one when I was a baby. For all I knew, the man holding me had been my father—she’d never said either way, and the one time I’d asked, she’d told me to shut my fucking mouth. Maybe he was just another in my string of “daddies.” Impossible to know.
Now Puck wanted me on the back of his bike. I remembered my arms wrapped tight around his stomach that day we’d left California, face buried in his back, trembling in pain and fear. I’d cried for hours, not that it mattered. We started riding and kept riding, stopping only for gas and the occasional smoke. They’d wanted to get the hell out of Longnecks territory before someone decided to come after me.
Not that the Silver Bastards were running scared.
Never.
But they’d had better things to do than get into a war over a random girl they’d picked up at a party.
“Get on,” Puck said, turning to look at me. His face was shadowed, but I swore his eyes burned like coals. What had I been thinking, agreeing to go anywhere with him? Had I lost my mind?
Maybe.
But maybe I was just being a giant wuss. Danielle and Blake deserved some time together.
“Okay,” I said, throwing my leg over the bike. I took a deep breath and wrapped my arms around his stomach, trying not to think about how tight and hard it still was. No beer gut here. Puck pulled out of the parking lot and onto the blacktop.
Then we were flying through the night.
—
It’s funny how you build the things that scare you up in your mind.
I’d been flinching every time I heard a bike for years. They represented everything bad about my childhood—the pain, the fear . . . Sometimes they represented the good. The Silver Bastards. Puck watching over me.
