Chapter 4

Forgive and forget. Fuck that and fuck you, fucking fucker.

-Raven’s secret thoughts

Raven

“I’ll take care of your accounts as soon as I get home,” Travis climbed up the steps ahead of me.

“Thank you,” I replied to his back, snorting when he kept walking without looking back.

I should’ve known that would be how he reacted.

The man loved a challenge, and that’d been something I’d witnessed a lot over the last few months since I’d been working with him.

I was still amused to know that he actually liked computers. I thought that he disliked them due to his inability to use one with those fat fingers of his. To my surprise, he was not only comfortable working with the computer, but he was actually good at it.

Opening my door with the wrong hand proved to be a challenge, but it worked out well enough.

“No!” I yelled. “Don’t jump!”

My dog, a white German Shepherd that I’d somehow become the proud new owner of the week before I’d left, jumped anyway, but not on my body.

He jumped in front of the door to ensure that I couldn’t open it.

The door threw open with a slam, and I sighed.

“That was almost my fingers, you big beast,” I growled, walking past him to the couch that was directly in line with the front door.

The TV, which I know for a fact I didn’t leave on, was blaring, and I turned another glare on Marky Mark.

Marky Mark looked at me with those big brown eyes of his, jaw hanging open wide, and tongue lolling.

Marky Mark wasn’t his real name. When I came home and found him in my yard, no one was laying claim to him. It was the week before I was to leave Kilgore, so with no other recourse, I decided to keep him, and I renamed him. He didn’t respond to it at first, but eventually he came around.

Marky Mark hadn’t been the original name that I’d used, but then I’d gotten home the first time, after deciding to keep him, and found the TV blaring with Marky Mark playing on an old show on MTV.

After teasing him about being a Marky Mark fan, I’d decided to use that as his name.

He seemed accepting enough, and that had been that.

He didn’t like it quiet while he was home alone, and it took a smart dog to turn the TV on by himself, but he managed it.

I no longer worried about how it’d gotten on.

After it happened in the middle of the night a few weeks ago, I’d gotten up and turned it off, only for it to turn on again not two minutes later.

After turning it off a second time, I’d caught Marky Mark pressing his wet nose to the button on the front of the TV, and realized that it was my dog doing it—not some psycho who liked to see me scared out of my mind.

“Seriously, though.” I shook the TV changer at him. “All you have to do is turn it on. You don’t have to turn it up so high that the neighbors hear it!”

When he didn’t respond or even blink and act like he acknowledged me, I tossed the TV changer onto the couch and walked to the kitchen.

Immediately upon arriving, I opened the puke green fridge that I’d found at a garage sale and reached inside for an adult beverage.

AKA a Mountain Dew. My weakness.

A weakness that I hadn’t had before being kidnapped.

During our captivity, we’d only been served tea. And not even good tea at that.

The moment I’d gotten saved—by Wolf—I’d asked for something to drink.

The only thing Wolf had was a Mountain Dew. It’d been so good—so fucking perfect—that I drank them just to remind myself that I was alive.

This time I drank it with a pain killer I’d stolen from the communal cookie jar at the Uncertain Saints’ clubhouse just before I’d left.

Tomorrow, I’d go fill my prescriptions, but until then this would work just fine.

I’d just swallowed my first pill when I decided that maybe I should’ve eaten like my doctor, as well as Wolf, had instructed me to.

The moment I looked into the fridge, though, I realized how futile that endeavor was.

There was no food in my fridge. There was also no food in my cupboards.

I’d not gone to the store in at least three weeks, and I’d been surviving on Ramen noodles and tuna fish.

Tonight, neither of those would be sufficient.

A: Because I didn’t have any of the two aforementioned things. B: Because I was tired of them, even if I did have them.

With nothing left to do but go to the store, I darted into my room and changed out of my dirty shorts.

The first thing I found to change into were the jeans I’d bought at Goodwill my senior year in college.

They still fit, but they were definitely on the verge of being too tight.

They were thin and comfortable, but I had to jump and twist to get them onto my body.

Once they were on, though, they felt like butter.

They fit me like a second skin, and I knew they made my ass look fantastic.

An ass that was on the side of leaning towards too big.

Once I slipped my feet into my shoes, once again, I headed to the living room and picked up my car keys. Once they were in my hand, I whistled to Marky Mark and picked up my purse.

“Wanna go for a ride?” I asked him.

Not having to be asked twice whether he wanted to go for a ride or not, he launched himself off my couch and skidded to a stop in front of the door.

Marky Mark was in love with the car. His favorite pastime was riding with the window down and half his body stuck out of it.

I’d actually been scared shitless the first few times he’d done it, but the more I became used to his ways, and the more he showed me that he could obviously handle having the front half of his body hanging out, the less I worried.

The trip down the stairs was just as painful going down as it was going up, and I was panting with the effort it took to hold my arm still once I reached the bottom of the stairs.

The apartment I lived in was actually a neighboring apartment to the one that Travis lived in when I first moved here.

It was at the top of the garage that housed all the vehicles that Hail Auto Recovery used for their business. Although not at the same time. Mostly, this garage was used for storage of the extra vehicles, as well as doing any maintenance on the wreckers that needed to be done—scheduled or unscheduled. They had ten wreckers that they used on a regular basis, and at any given time, a few were in the shop for some reason or another.

Mostly, though, the men—and one woman—who drove the wreckers kept them with them due to the afterhours callouts that came in. There was a central office in the garage as well that two dispatchers manned. One was seven to three, and the other was three to eleven. During the day, Travis, Dante, or I helped man the phones.

Dante and Travis no longer drove the wreckers, having graduated from doing that once they reached their five truck mark.

Descending the steps, I had my head down, one hand in my purse searching for my keys, and the other on the railing as I moved quickly.

I’d just hit the bottom step when I hit something solid causing my head to jerk back and my eyes to widen.

“Shit!” I hissed, nearly falling backwards.

The strong hand that caught me before I fell, though, was startling to say the least.

The angry black eyes belonging to Wolf were nothing less than breathtaking.

“You scared the hell out of me,” I gasped, my hand going over my heart as if I could control the beating by doing so.

Wolf glared. “What are you doing outside all by yourself?”

“Groceries,” I replied shortly, my teeth worrying my lip.

“Groceries,” he repeated, sounding incredulous.

I nodded.

“You’re lucky it was me and not someone else. Fancy a few bullet holes in your body?” Wolf asked almost casually.

I let go of my lip with my teeth and glared at him.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re supposed to be with someone if you absolutely have to leave. Didn’t you pick up on this sometime earlier this afternoon? You know, when someone was shooting at us?” Wolf growled.

“Nobody told me I needed to fucking hide! Nor did I ever hear that I needed an escort if I left my house!” I yelled, waving my arms wildly.

Wolf’s emotions were volatile, and I was not only surprised at the rage he felt at me leaving my apartment unattended, but I was also flabbergasted that he cared that much.

I was just a nobody. I was seriously only a girl that he saved, not because I’d been the one he’d come for, but because I’d been the one there when the one he did come for was rescued.

I was a mess and a half, and people like me didn’t get worried about by people like Wolf.

“I figured the fucking bullets being shot at us earlier, as well as the fact that Travis escorted you home, were enough to make that logical leap,” Wolf replied sarcastically.

I gritted my teeth, and only just refrained from fisting my hand.

“Just for your information, Travis always takes me home. How was I supposed to know that I should be watching what I was doing?” I asked him. “And I thought the bullets were because of you! Not me! If I’d known that they were meant for me as well, I sure as fuck wouldn’t be walking around after dark.”

Wolf’s eyes went down to my dog, and then back up to me.

“Nice dog,” he said.

I looked down at Marky Mark, then back up to his black eyes.

“He’s a good boy,” I agreed. “Now, what are you doing here?”

“Taking you to get groceries, I guess,” Wolf muttered darkly.

I gave him an ugly look, causing his mouth to twitch in response.

“What are you doing here, really?” I asked.

“Meeting with Travis.” He didn’t expound on his answer, and I had to grit my teeth in order to control the urge to shout at him.

That, or knee him in the nuts.

Not that I would ever, ever do that. The thought might cross my mind occasionally, but I would have to wager a bet that the moment my knee made contact it wouldn’t take him down.

Yes, it’d hurt him.

Would it stop him, though?

Hell to the no.

He’d probably get super powers by me doing that to him. Superpowers that made it possible to wring my neck with only a glance.

“Thanks for offering that titillating information,” I growled.

Wolf’s mask slipped, and I saw him smile for the fourth time in all the months that I’d known him.

“Titillating?” he parroted.

I sighed.

“We’ll have to take my car, because I don’t think you can fit the amount of groceries I need into those tiny little saddle bags,” I informed him.

He grinned.

“Got the truck today, dear,” he said tonelessly. “Come on.”

He led me to a dark brown Chevy, a fully restored one that dated back to before I was born. I couldn’t tell you a date. What I could tell you was that it was beautiful, and it looked like he put a lot of effort into it.

I’d seen it before, of course, but never out of the garage that Wolf housed it in.

Both times that I noticed it at July’s house, she told me that he didn’t drive it very often.

Apparently, it was something he’d put a lot of time and effort into building, and he didn’t drive it because, according to him, ‘people were stupid and didn’t know how to drive.’

Which begged me to question why was he driving it now?

Ignoring my need to question him, I walked up to the truck and headed to the passenger side, only to have Wolf stop me and usher me to the driver’s side.

“Car seat,” he explained.

I blinked.

“You’ll have to sit in the middle,” he told me as he opened the door.

I blinked.

“Ummm,” I hesitated. “We can take my car. I have a backseat and no car seats at all.”

Not to mention more space, meaning I wouldn’t have to touch him or be close to him.

There was no telling what my crazy self would do if I was that close to him.

He smelled divine already. Being in an enclosed space with him only inches away was likely going to kill me.

He ignored my offer, though, and gave me a slight push in the middle of my back to urge me inside.

I went, but only because I was still recovering from the fact that he’d touched me.

He’d never done that before.

Oh, my God!

I felt like I had a searing handprint in the middle of my back, right over my bra strap, burning through every layer of my clothing and melting straight into my bones.

Crawling in and scooting all the way over as far as the car seat on the bench seat would allow me, I came to a stop and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Seatbelt,” he ordered from where he was standing outside the truck, his eyes directed downwards at my dog who was sitting next to him instead of crawling inside with me.

Once I was inside, he led Marky Mark around to the passenger side and pointed to the floor board.

Marky Mark went willingly, and then curled into a tight ball underneath the dash.

Wolf slammed the door closed and rounded the hood, rendering me momentarily dysfunctional as I watched his tight body move under the light of the street lamp.

When he took his place beside me, I snapped to attention and started scrambling.

I reached between us, accidentally scraping the back of my hand down his thigh in my search for the belt.

When I couldn’t find it, I turned in my seat slightly, giving him my back, as I looked for it.

“Might be behind the seat,” he muttered, reaching behind my back, right where my ass was, and snaked his hand into the crack of the seat searching for the elusive seatbelt.

His big body pinned mine in, ensuring that I had nowhere to go while he pressed his luscious chest to my back.

“Damn, it’s hung,” he said, leaning forward even more.

This time his hips were pressed to my back, and I froze at the very sizeable cock that was poking me in the back.

The scary thing, though, was that I didn’t think he was hard.

It didn’t feel like it. It was definitely a cock, though.

There was no hiding the way it was positioned in his pants, nor the way it felt against my backside.

Something clicked and clanked, and suddenly all that heavenly body heat was gone from my back as he pulled the seatbelt free of the seat.

“Here,” he said, placing it over my lap.

I reached for it and our hands brushed, causing my face to flame.

“Scoot closer to me, or widen your legs,” Wolf ordered.

I looked up at him in confusion.

“What?” I asked.

He started the truck, and then wiggled the stick that was somehow magically between my legs.

“Would be easier for you to part them, but you can do whatever’s more comfortable for you,” he moved the stick again.

It was then I realized that the truck was a five speed, and the fucking shifter was between my freakin’ legs!

Meaning his hand had to reach over my thigh to get to it—if I parted my legs.

If I didn’t part my legs and scooted closer to him, not only would that make me practically on top of him, but that would also cause him to have to reach over both of my legs to get to the shifter. Making his hand rest practically in my lap.

I chose to part my legs.

It seemed the lesser of two evils.

At first it was smooth rolling.

I was in my seat, my legs parted, and we were driving out of the parking lot.

Then he shifted gears.

First wasn’t too bad. Second not bad either.

Third was the best because that meant his arm was about as far away from my leg as he could get in the truck cab.

Fourth, however, was not good.

Fourth was down and directly in the middle of my legs.

And when I say middle, I mean in the middle.

Right up against my crotch.

Without me there, it was very obvious that the shifter nearly touched the seat.

With his hand on the shifter and in fourth gear, it meant that his fingers not only overlapped the seat, but they were fucking touching me.

In my crotch.

At first I didn’t think he realized it.

I sure as hell did, though.

In fact, I was practically hyperventilating.

His knuckles were skimming the seam of my jeans. The same seam that was pressed up tightly against my clit since they were so tight.

Oh, God. I closed my eyes. What the hell was I thinking wearing these jeans out of the house instead of cleaning in them like I usually did?

Thankfully—for once in my life—I was happy that someone pulled out in front of me, meaning Wolf down shifted and removed his hand from my vagina’s usual stomping grounds.

Just as quickly as that thought appeared, it fled.

He wasted no time accelerating back up to speed, and it was obvious after a full minute of having his hand pressed up against my crotch that he didn’t intend to go any faster than he was at that very moment.

“So,” I said, feeling the need to make small talk. “How’s Nathan?”

His mouth quirked as a smile appeared on his face.

“He’s with his grandma,” he replied. “He’s spending about half the time at her place, and half the time at mine. With me working as much as I do, we thought it best that she take him Monday through Thursday, and I take him Friday through the weekend. If I’m not busy, I have him during the week as well. It all just depends on my schedule.”

“Is this your mother?” I continued with the line of questioning, my eyes nearly crossing when he repositioned his hand on the gear shift.

“No. This is his father’s mother,” he replied.

My brows furrowed.

“What?” I asked in confusion.

Wolf smiled sadly.

“Nathan’s adopted. His real father was my best friend, and was killed along with Nathan’s mother,” he said.

I turned my head to study Wolf.

His face was carefully blank, and each streetlight we passed lit his face enough that I could tell that this subject was not something he wanted to talk about, so like the wise woman I was, I changed the subject.

“How am I supposed to live my life if I have to be watched twenty-four seven?” I asked him.

He turned to look at me for a few long seconds before his eyes went back to the road in front of him.

“What I was expecting was for you to go to work with Travis, and for Travis to take you home after y’all were done for the day,” he replied. “Why are you working for them anyway?”

He turned into the parking lot that sported a supermarket, Dollar General, and Waffle House –three of the only things that the tiny stretch of highway had to offer, and parked the truck.

Thankful that I no longer had Wolf’s hand within my vaginal boundaries, I scooted out.

“Stay,” I ordered Marky Mark when he went to follow me.

“He can come inside,” Wolf said absently as he scanned his surroundings, his dark eyes on the dark area at the back of the parking lot.

I took the chance to study him.

Wolf was a big man, and when I say big, I mean he’s bigger than anyone I’ve ever met.

I’ve met some large men in my life, but Wolf definitely topped the charts.

He had a tall, muscular build that drew the eyes to the tops of his shoulders as well as his hard, thick thighs that were encased in light washed jeans.

He had on his Uncertain Saints MC cut that was black with red lettering and accents.

The black angel wings on the back looked freakin’ awesome as well, making me want to laugh.

Wolf was anything but an angel, that was for sure.

His body was made for debauchery, and those dark eyes, paired with his black hair and deeply tanned skin screamed sinner for sure.

That ass in those jeans, though.

Jesus Christ, was it lovely.

“Ready?” he asked, bringing my attention from the state of his ass to his face, which was looking straight at me and no longer across the parking lot.

Those dark eyes of his were filled with laughter, and I nearly passed out from embarrassment.

My face flamed.

Shit!