Tori

 

     Trench’s hand swallowed my own and as expected we received plenty of sideway glances inside the store from both the customers and the staff. I was used to the stares. I never went anywhere with Aaron that people weren’t at least curious. Trench and I probably resembled a modern-day equivalent of Bonnie and Clyde come to rob the joint.       

     “What’s your poison?” Trench asked as we crossed the threshold to the department store.

     I jerked away from his touch and nearly toppled over the display of sunglasses. Did he know what that simple word meant in my world? Poison. The horror a person felt when they were suffocating and burning from the inside all at once. No matter how much you struggled to choke out a sob your throat would not cooperate, your gag reflex refusing to work at a time when you needed it most, while the inside of your throat blistered and your mouth pooled with the metallic taste of your own blood.

     Common sense waged a war with my inner demons as they taunted me with the memories of how close to death I’d come because of poison. Preacher’s special brand. The kind of poison that came in the form of experimental drugs administered by one of the other Disciples, or worse, Aaron. It was hard to imagine now that the same man who once protected and cherished me was also the monster that nearly killed me.

     My eighteenth birthday should have been something to celebrate and cherish. Instead, I was alone and beginning a new nightmare. I’d heard rumors around the clubhouse building up to my birthday, but Preacher had spoken about it to me. Still, I’d witnessed the way his youngest Enforcer, Aaron, kept a watchful eye over me, escorted me nearly everywhere over the last two years. Aaron hardly ever spoke, and he never touched me, but his body language as we walked into a room together became increasingly possessive as I’d gotten older. In some ways, I felt safer with Aaron around, something I desperately wanted to feel again. Safe.

     For a time, I even held onto hope that I had an ally within the Disciple walls. At twenty-two years old, Aaron was quickly moving up the ranks and the trust Preacher afforded him spoke volumes of Aaron’s loyalty to the Disciples. Gradually, I noticed Aaron’s attentions towards me were more intimate, less scripted. He was no longer just filling the role as my guardian. He was marking me off-limits to the other men. A simple hand splayed across my back to guide me around the room, whispered words from his heated lips next to my ear as he gave me gentle warnings not to leave his side.

     He was methodical the way he worked himself into my circle of trust over the months leading up to my eighteenth birthday. That circle represented a value of absolute zero. I trusted no one since the only two that mattered, my mother and stepfather, had been murdered. Aaron spent months treating me like a princess. I no longer feared what was behind me or in front of me because I was Aaron’s girl. That meant the other brothers could no longer harass me without blow back from Aaron. It also afforded me more freedoms within the compound and the ability to work at Second Circle, even if it seemed degrading to most, but it was more than I’d had in years.

     Love is blind that way. An emotion that lets you see what your heart wants to believe, then leaches away your lifeline until it can no longer be sated with anything but death to bring your pain to an end.

     Trench was blinding too. Another carrot to be dangled in front of a starving animal. Anyone crazy enough to try and keep his attention longer than a quick roll in the sack would suffer the same burn as the person rushing back into a burning building after they’d saved themselves. Stupid and suicidal.

     Aaron had succeeded only in making me feel like a stranger in my own body, unable to trust my judgments. He made me a victim, and one failed, brutally frightening relationship, had severed any hope I held of finding something better. Save my sanity today and spare the tears later.  

     “You okay?” Trench’s brows furrowed.

     “Yeah, sorry about that. I blanked out again.” I tried to shrug it off. “You were asking?”

     “Where will you be?”

     “I was going to try on a few dresses. Nothing exciting.”

     “Good. I need to look for something myself. See you in a few?”

     Maybe he understood more than I gave him credit for if he was already distancing himself. It was better this way. Maybe the bad boy biker really did need to shop and I was the foolish one pretending he gave a damn about hanging out with me. One pity ride to keep my ass from causing another scene in town and his seemingly noble act could be noted by his club. Splitting up in the store was the opportunity he needed to get away, an easy out from the crazy chick who kept landing in hot water with the opposite sex. I snorted as I stood just beyond the entrance of the store and watched him walk away, shamelessly taking the last chance to admire him from behind. Of course, the rear view was every bit as amazing as the front.

     Glutton for punishment needs assistance in the front. Please send help. That was what customer service should be calling over the intercom.

     “Better hold on to that one, sweetie,” the passing clerk remarked, making me flinch. Was my staring really that obvious? The woman disappeared around a rack of clothes before the first false denial could even leave my lips.

     I ducked my head in embarrassment and made my way to the clearance racks in the far-left corner of the store. There were so many dresses to choose from, all manner of vibrant colors and patterns, and all of them more than a couple seasons behind in their fashion. I chose the two that held the most promise and made my way to the dressing room. I might not be able to afford them, but it would be fun to try them on. My mother and I goofed around at plenty of boutiques when I was a child and we were flat broke. We took bets on who could come up with the most outrageous outfit. She usually won, but the dress-up session was free and the laughs were priceless. Tears that always threatened with her memory burned in the back of my eyes and I wished she could see me now. 

     I admired my first selection in the mirror, a paisley blue patterned dress with a decorative brown belt around the middle. The soft, light texture felt amazing against my skin. With a sigh, I discarded it on the floor and began to pull the second one over my head. A knock sounded on the unlocked dressing room door.

     “This room is occupied,” I fumbled with the material that was temporarily blinding me and froze as I heard the deep timbre of his voice. I was thankful that I made the decision to keep my jean shorts on underneath the garment, leaving only my midriff exposed, but I knew if I found myself under his gaze I might as well have been naked.

     “I have a couple more things you might like to try.” Trench spoke and my heart rate picked up. Was he serious?

     “Is my style that hideous,” I sighed and finally squirmed free of the contraption, using it as a shield instead to crack the door open. Trench leaned against the jamb with a knowing smirk.

     “No. Actually, I think what you’re wearing right now is perfect.” Trench’s eyes traveled from my eyes to the bare skin that wasn’t entirely covered by the ridiculous dress.

     “But, I’m not wearing much of anything yet.” I shook my head in amusement.

     “I can see that, babe.” Trench left the pregnant pause to simmer between us before grinning at my discomfort. “Here, try these.” He pushed the door open wider and reached around me to hang four more dresses, a pair of black jeans and was that – a shoebox he set on the stool? His arm brushed against my naked shoulder and the fine hairs on his forearm sent a delicious shiver down my back. “I had to guess at the sizes. I went smaller, but if they don’t work for you let me know.”

     I hoped he was referring to my body in general and not my inadequate chest. I knew it should not matter, but my head could not seem to find agreement with my body which was eager to please him. I reasoned instead that any man, like Trench, who had his fill of women could guess my size easy enough. Smaller women probably were not his type. He seemed the sort of man to be attracted to women who were more bountiful and curvy.

     “Great, I’ll try them on if you wait over there,” I wanted to sound indignant, but my voice came out small and needy by comparison.

     Why exactly was the President of the Pandemonium MC standing in front of me, looking deadly as sin and picking out dresses like it was nothing out of the ordinary to shop for women’s clothing. Trench probably smuggled drugs, guns, women, or hell, all three, given my knowledge of motorcycle clubs. He could not possibly feel more out of place than standing next to me in the women’s casual section of a department store.

     “I think I’ll stay with you. The clerk is giving me crazy eyes. It’s creeping me the fuck out,” he grimaced and I laughed out loud, stopping only when I realized he was dead serious. The big, bad biker was nervous about the clerk giving him bedroom eyes. “That’s funny to you? Shit, woman, I’m going for smooth here, but if you keep laughing at me I’m going to have to switch tactics to get your attention.”

     Surely, he did not mean that the way I thought. Trench wanted my attention?

     “No way. I barely know you. I’m not about to get naked for you.”

     “So, I rescue you twice, but you can’t help me out this once?”

     “Nice try, President. Just so you remember, I never asked for help. You gave it freely.”

     “Fair enough, sweetheart. You don’t have to tell me twice, but I’d like to see the results.” He conceded before making his way towards the bench situated across from the dressing room.

     I closed the door and leaned against it for added support. Trench was making me weak in the knees and the flimsy wooden door did little to separate us. It might as well have been transparent as exposed as I felt with him so close. There was no way to run out without him catching me and I would be hard pressed to prove I did not want him there.

     “Let me know if you change your mind, babe” he half-shouted and I could not help but smile around the blush even if I suspected the term of endearment was meant to dissuade the curious clerk than incite me.

     I was out of my mind to crave anything with him. I mean, what did I plan on accomplishing with this little play date anyway? Friendship? A one-night stand to ease the ache he caused between my legs? No, I needed to relax and make friendly with Trench. Build up enough nerve to ask him about Duke. I could do it now. With the door between us at least offering me some semblance of strength. I was going to do it. I just needed to focus on the goal, not all the dirty things Trench could do to help me relax. Gah! This was ridiculous. I took a deep breath and steadied myself.

     I pulled on the first dress with trembling hands, a gorgeous navy-blue number he selected. It was flouncy and comfortable and just the right amount of sexy. I had to admit, I was impressed. It was something I might have picked out for myself if I had the money. Even the price tag laughed at me.

     I poked my head out the door and garnered his attention.

     “Okay, I’m coming out, but if you make one ugly comment, I’ll kick your ass. Got it? And, you have to agree to give me something in exchange for this little impromptu fashion show.”

     Trench was quiet long enough that I wondered if he was pissed. He had no reason to be here with me other than he wanted to, or he was killing time and amusing himself with me until Mike finished with his brother’s bike. Trench was not the type that needed to work hard to get laid. If I wasn’t being agreeable to his attention he could go back to his clubhouse and bang the first woman in his line of sight. It was that easy for a man in his position and one who looked as disarming as he did.

     I released the breath I was holding and stepped out. Trench studied me for a moment before standing. His eyebrows raised in question and I almost lost my train of thought as I chose to focus on the spot where his arms crossed his chest, the muscles straining for room beneath his shirt. A shirt that begged to come off.

     “And here I thought my company would be good enough.” He smiled before leaning in close and whispering next to my ear. “Name your price. What can I give you, sweetheart, that would equal the chance to stare at your beautiful body?”

     I tried to steel my nerves, biting my lip to keep from combusting from his proximity. This was it. My chance to get the information I needed about Duke.

     “First, I need to know how you have better fashion sense than I do and then - I need you to help me find someone.”

     The last part fell from my lips in an anxious rush. Trench pulled back and watched me like a lion watches prey. His curious grin spread like wildfire and scorched a path straight to my core. He towered over me and I had to angle my head back to see his face.

     “First, fashion has never been my thing, babe, but I’ve been around enough women to know what I like.”

     I averted my eyes. Of course, he had. That thought was sobering as hell and just as I had suspected, but I had been searching for Pandemonium, not love. Trench was the means to an end for me. Closure and hope. Finding Duke Hadden had almost felt like a life line all these years. The last-ditch effort of a dying woman, but now that I was so close, it seemed impossible to believe that anyone could help me.

     Trench’s finger beneath my chin lit a fire inside that I had not felt in ages as he gently lifted my face to his. Eyes like cognac that held the power to make me just as warm inside. I wanted to lose myself in his eyes.

     “As for finding someone. I guess that depends.”

     “On what exactly?” I floundered beneath his stare.

     “You,” he winked and I felt my knees begin to give out.

     There was no such thing as harmless flirting with a member of an MC. It was a dangerous game. Trench was well and truly in his element, a practiced predator, the quintessential bad boy with a body and mouth made for seduction. As for me; I was awkward at best and scared as hell to venture down a broken road I knew all too well.

     “This looks fucking amazing on you by the way.” His hand pinched at the mid-seam of the fabric. “I think you should try it with the boots.”

     I shrugged and sat down inside the dressing room while Trench held the door open to watch. The long black shoebox was heavy on my lap, but as I pulled back the tissue paper my hands stilled on the contents hidden underneath. Nestled inside were the most beautiful pair of black knee-high boots, adorned with simple silver clasped zippers along the sides, a pair of silky boot socks laying across them.

     “If those are the wrong size I can grab another pair,” his words were like a whisper as I pulled the first shoe from the box and checked the designer label.

     I had never even picked up a pair in the store, too afraid I might damage them or fall in love with the feel only to be disappointed by the price tag. I set aside the soft leather and slid on the first sock, reveling in the almost forgotten feel of quality made material against my freshly shaved skin. It was euphoric. When I glanced up I remembered I had an audience. Trench hovered close by, watching with heated enthusiasm. I pulled on the second sock and slipped the first foot into the nearby boot. It took a bit of work to get the zipper up, but after I put on the matching boot it was entirely worth the effort to see the look of longing in his eyes, the quick rise and fall of his chest that matched his increased breathing.

     I stood and turned in front of the mirror, admiring the sleek lines and the way the leather hugged against my calves. Trench was right. The outfit was stunning, simple, and sexy. There was no way I could afford any of it, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying the moment. I wondered silently if I could place the items on layaway and make payments. Only the soft click of the door closing behind me finally pulled my attention up and away from the reflection. Trench stood even closer than before as our eyes met in the mirror, reminding me of this morning when he left the diner, just as mesmerizing.

     Trench opened his mouth to speak when his phone rang loudly in the small space. His frustration was evident as he reached inside the front pocket of his jeans to answer the call.

     “This better be good, Clutch,” he growled into the receiver and stepped back slightly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Who? The fuck they doing in Sparrow Creek? Stay put. I’m on my way.”

     The sound of his voice now laced with irritation was the icy truth I needed. My shoulders sagged with the realization of who was standing behind me. He was the President of a motorcycle club and a sworn enemy of my enemy. I was being foolish.

     How many manipulative, sadistic bastards did I need to get cozy with before I learned my lesson? The answer was one. I pictured Aaron, the man without a merciful bone in his body, and it was all I could do not to bolt from the room and out of the store to put distance between Trench and me. He was no different. They all had an agenda and the sooner I accepted the truth, the sooner I could ask him about Duke and move on.

     “Sorry to cut our trip short, but I have some business in town.”

     I offered Trench a practiced grin, hoping it seemed the least bit genuine, even if I couldn’t be bothered to care. My time with Trench was fun while it lasted, but it was never meant to be anything but that. Truthfully, he was doing me a solid and saving me from an awkward walk of shame later.

     “Of course. Go. Thanks for all your help today.”

     “Go? No, I think you misunderstood. You’re coming with me.”

     Trench picked up the empty shoe box from the changing room stool and reached around to carefully separate the price tag from the dress I was wearing.

     “What are you doing? I don’t have the money to pay for this if you mess it up,” I squealed.

     “I don’t have time to argue with that pretty mouth of yours right now. Grab the other dresses and come on. I won’t have you riding on the back of my bike with open-toed shoes.”

     I started to gather my tank top and cut-off shorts from the floor to change.

     “Leave the dress on. You won’t need those anymore,” he jerked his head towards my cheap flip flops, opened the dressing room door and ushered me out.

     Was he being serious? I wasn’t going anywhere with him. I started to object as we got closer to the checkout, but Trench grabbed the items from my arms and handed them over to the sales lady whose eyes bulged with the excitement of a big sale. She completely ignored my presence. No doubt she probably worked on commission and with a man like Trench smiling at you, a wad of cold hard cash in hand, I guessed you helped in whatever way he wanted. When his eyes caught mine, he gave me a shit-eating grin like he knew he was about to get his way.

     “I hope you don’t mind, but she looked too good in this outfit to have her change. Here’s the tag for the dress and the box for her boots. I need to make a call so make sure to take good care of her purchases. She’ll take the change.” He winked and leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Meet me by the bike and don’t you dare come out without everything on this counter.”

     “Trench, I can’t afford any of this,” I tilted my head and whispered, embarrassed that I would have to return everything later when I couldn’t pay him back.

     “Didn’t expect you to. Now shut those sexy lips and meet me outside when you’re done. I know you were going to use that tip to buy some new clothes anyway. Since you were too stubborn to accept my hundred earlier, you’ll have to settle for this instead. All sales are final,” he chuckled.

     I looked behind him to see the cashier watching us curiously as she rang up the items. I didn’t want to cause a scene that would garner any more attention so I reluctantly nodded to appease Trench for the moment. He would hear about this soon enough. There was no doubt. Trench was trouble. I was just hoping it was the kind of trouble that would leave me boneless and satisfied when he was finished with me instead of broken and bruised.