Struggling For Justice Page 3

  "Lady, you don't know shit," Remmy said.

  "And you don't know me."

  His lip curled, and her stomach fluttered. Remmy leaned in, and she caught the scent of leather. She gasped, holding her breath, waiting for the jolt of arousal to settle. But her stomach kept spiraling and he kept moving closer, inch by inch.

  He hovered his lips in front of her mouth, chuckled low in his throat, and kissed her.

  Shocked and high off adrenaline, her heightened senses noticed everything. The way his firm lips held hers, owning her, possessing her. His hands gripped her upper arms, lifting her up and bringing her closer. The masculine scent of leather and something so powerful, she couldn't even figure out what the smell was, but it was wonderful and exciting.

  While she was overthinking why he'd kiss her at the most inconvenient time and without any warning, she found her hands clutching his leather vest and her back arched, pressing her breasts against him.

  Then his tongue lazily caressed hers and her insides moaned, coming out of hibernation. When the sound met her ears, she jerked back, pushing away from him.

  "Shit." She covered her mouth.

  He stood in front of her, staring down at her with aroused eyes. She wiped her mouth, needing to get the taste of him off her lips. Everything about the kiss was wrong. Never in a million years would she enjoy someone forcing attention on her or would've guessed she'd enjoy the warmth and sweetness of a biker's kiss. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.

  She was married.

  No, she wasn't.

  It was too soon.

  She'd never. No. What was she doing?

  She stepped backward into the car. My God, he'd kissed her.

  He kissed her without asking or hinting that he was attracted to her. There was no warning, no nothing. He just took the kiss and made her enjoy it.

  "Lady?" he murmured. "Breathe."

  At his order, she sucked in a lungful of air and spewed her thoughts. "I can't believe you did that."

  The corner of Remmy's mouth twitched. There was only one way to describe that look he was giving her. Conceited.

  She slid sideways against the car, distancing herself. "Th-that was..."

  He stepped toward her. "Good?"

  "No!" She planted her feet. "Are you crazy?"

  He pinned her against the door of the car. "The best kiss you've had in a long time?"

  "You don't know that." She arched her upper body away from him.

  A low growl came from deep within him. "Want to prove me wrong?"

  "No." She pushed against him, desperately needing to put a stop to the turmoil he created inside of her.

  Large and impossible to move, her trained background kicked in and she used her skills to stomp on his foot. His head came down. She brought her head up, clipping him on the chin with the back of her head. He cussed and before he could react, she brought her knee up and nailed him in the crotch. He bent over on a groan and staggered away.

  "What—he palmed his balls and grimaced—the fuck are you doing? Trying to kill me?" He tottered a few steps hunched over and panting through the pain. "Jesus Christ, lady."

  She'd avoided Will, survived a visit to a biker club, and defended herself with Remmy. She covered her mouth as the amusement hit her. For years, she'd trained other women how to defend themselves, to be on guard, and to expect danger before it happened. She'd fought men twice her size in a full padded suit, but not once had she used her trained techniques on an unsuspecting man.

  Everything she taught others had helped her kick biker ass.

  Remmy straightened, testing out his legs, and continued to glare. She removed her hand and bit her lip to stop her smile from showing.

  Inside, she glowed.

  Remmy held his hand out. "Give me the damn phone."

  She leaned forward, stretching out her arm and gave his cell back. "If you could tell me where the nearest tire shop is, I'll be on my way."

  He inhaled deeply, paused, and shook his leg. "You're not going anywhere."

  "But I have to fix my car and go home." She held her arms out to her sides. "I only need directions to a tire store."

  "Get in the truck." He stepped around her and opened the truck door. "Now."

  She blew out her breath. "Are you going to take me to the shop?"

  "No." He picked her up, set her on the seat, and put his face in front of hers. "I'm taking you to the club. Then I'm going to have a couple of the guys bring the flat bed to town and tow your car to the club. When that's done, you're going to explain what the fuck is going on."

  She scooted to the edge of the seat. "That's not a good idea."

  "Doesn't matter," he said, planting his hand on her stomach and pushing her back in the seat. "I'm done playing with you."

  "You can't—"

  "Right." He pulled the seatbelt around her. "You don't seem to understand. I put you on the back of my bike. I was willing to let that go, until you started talking, and I liked what you had to say and how you said it. Then you nailed me, lady. Nailed. Me."

  She dropped her chin to her chest, confused over all his anger. Sure, she hurt him, and she probably jumped the gun, and should've asked him to not kiss her. But she couldn't think when she could still taste him on her lips.

  "Well, I'm sorry about that," she said.

  He lifted her face. "Don't you ever turn your eyes away from me. You have something to say, you look at me and own your opinion."

  "You're scaring me," she whispered, unable to understand the mixed emotions pinging between them.

  "You don't have a reason to be scared." Remmy dropped his hands and inhaled deeply. "I'll have your car fixed, but until that's done, you're staying with me."

  "Why?" she asked, her heart racing.

  Remmy stepped back and put his hand on the door. "Because I think you need me."

  He closed the door and walked around the truck. She watched him, barely breathing because her body refused to work. She didn't need him. The last thing she needed was someone else in her life who told her what to do.

  Chapter Three

  A half-empty whiskey bottle sat in the middle of the table. Remmy, calmer after a couple shots, leaned back in the chair and listened to the noise of his MC brothers bullshitting, while Natalie sat enthralled from her spot across the room where Risa and the Silver Girls entertained her.

  Whatever Natalie's life consisted of before today, it wasn't the day-to-day happenings of a motorcycle club or came close to what the bitches did entertaining the men. Hell, after the Silver Girls shifted from the adult entertainment business in town and because club bitches, even he learned there was no stopping them when it came to storytelling. Shari and Jojo could create drama over chicken soup.

  He took in Natalie's wide eyes, her stiff shoulders, and the hand that periodically came up to fiddle with the strand of hair that kept falling in her vision. She was out of her element.

  The way she talked, she could be a schoolteacher. He reached for the bottle again and pulled out another chug. Even the way she kissed started out slow. It wasn't until she'd let herself go and enjoyed the kiss did she freak out on him.

  The chick was pure lady. A lady who had him hard and wanting her once he tasted her tongue.

  Usually he liked his women loose and only for a few hours at a time. The less ties and responsibility he had, the better. He eyed the blush on Natalie's cheeks and yet, her eyes lit up listening to the other women entertain her. She mystified him.

  Maybe he was getting old and his tastes in the opposite sex were changing.

  All his MC brothers back in Pitnam had settled down. He came to Federal to get away from the desire to put his stamp on one woman. He enjoyed living a hard, wild life.

  "Fucked up, bro." Kurt gazed at the women. "You put her on your bike. You brought her to the club. Twice. Now you're staring at the woman and claiming her in front of all the guys."

  "Hell." Remmy shook his head. "It ain't like that."

>   Kurt's gaze came back to him. "Right."

  He grunted. The only thing he wanted to accomplish was getting Natalie to tell him who the asshole was that frightened her in town, so he could let her go knowing she was safe.

  At least that's what he told himself. Except, he couldn't forget how her lips softened against his and her hands clutched his vest. Something primal came over him, and he wanted no other man to experience her. She was his, at least while he kept her at the club.

  "Cutter will be done with the tires on her car soon, and I have Sawyer looking into the registration papers he found in the glove box. You'll have answers soon on who Natalie is and why she was running," Kurt said.

  Remmy nodded. Once he had answers, he'd feel better about his next step of letting her go.

  Ink strutted to the table. "Are you going to tap her, old man?"

  Remmy reached over, picked up the empty chair beside him, and threw it over the table at Ink. Ink dodged the chair, but Remmy followed, clutching Ink's neck and backing him up against the bar.

  "Take a good look at her, brother. She's not a bitch, and if I hear about you even making her uncomfortable here, the leg of the chair I just broke will be shoved up your ass." Remmy pushed off Ink and spoke to Kurt. "Take the damage out of my cut of the money."

  Kurt lifted the whiskey bottle. "Hell, I'll take it out of Ink's percentage. He started it."

  "Fuck that," Ink said on a laugh. "When's the last time Remmy went to table over a woman?"

  "Since you replaced him as the club slut." Kurt leaned back in the chair, untouched by the violence.

  Remmy shot Ink a warning look. "Back off. That's all I'm saying."

  Ink held up his hands, grinning. Remmy walked away and straight to Natalie. Her eyes turned to him and he liked the way she looked at him for direction.

  "Upstairs," he said.

  She stayed between Shari and Monica. "What's upstairs?"

  He gazed at her and caught the widening of her eyes, challenging him. Her attitude took a turn the moment he brought her back to the club the second time. He'd watched her join in on the conversations with the women, stare back at the men to show she wasn't afraid of them, and she talked. Talked prettier to the others than with him.

  He stayed aware of her every move, and he'd noticed her watching him back. For how much her bravado came through on the outside, he'd seen past the fakeness she gave to the others and saw the worry.

  The lady was scared.

  It was time to find out why fear controlled her attitude, make sure she'd be all right once she was on her own, and send her on her way.

  "Upstairs," he repeated.

  Risa nudged Natalie's arm. "Go on, honey. Remmy will take care of you."

  Hell, he'd like to do more than take care of her immediate problem. He'd like to take the next two hours, sink himself deep in her body, and get rid of the ache he developed since putting her on the back of his bike. Maybe then, he'd be able to concentrate on the problem instead of the stiff dick in his jeans.

  Natalie approached him. He placed his hand on her back and led her from the room. Instead of letting her go first on the stairs, he walked beside her. He wasn't going to leave her side.

  At the end of the hallway, he opened his bedroom door, and guided her inside. Only then did he let go of her and motion toward the bed. He walked around her stiff body when she remained standing and sat on the mattress. Questions needed answers now.

  "You've had enough time, I need to know who that guy is that bothered you?" he said.

  She stared at him before walking over to the window. "His name's Will."

  "That doesn't tell me shit." He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. "Who is he to you?"

  The square shape of her shoulders sloped and she sighed. "My former brother in law."

  Former? He stared at her back. That meant she told the truth and she wasn't married, and the asshole wasn't her boyfriend. He rubbed his thumb into the palm of his hand. But, she had been married.

  "Is there an ex in your life that's causing the problem?"

  "No," she whispered. "He's dead."

  He dropped his chin to his chest and grimaced. Damn.

  If he had to guess, Natalie was around thirty-five to forty years old, too young to be a widow. Tension settled between his shoulders. His mother became a widow around the same age after his dad tragically lost his life in a motor vehicle accident on his way to see one of his girlfriends. His mom never accepted the death, the same way she never accepted his dad's affairs. To do so would require too much attention away from her selfish drama.

  After that, home life became non-existent for him, so at twenty years old, he'd hopped on his old rat bike to party and escape. Living the wild life led him to Bantorus Motorcycle Club and he straightened his life up to belong to a family that had his back and loyalty.

  "I'm sorry," he said, knowing words would never make her feel better about her circumstances.

  Natalie nodded in acceptance, and he regretted making her answer the question. Getting answers wasn't supposed to be about bringing out a reminder of what she'd lost. He had to make sure she remained safe when she left to go back home.

  "Explain your situation, so I can help you." He moistened his lips. "Will you be safe once your car is fixed and you can go back home?"

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Yes."

  Her answer came too fast. He straightened. "There are restraining orders you can—"

  "No." She turned around and faced him. "It's a difference of opinion. He wants to talk, and I have nothing more to say to him that he hasn't already heard. If you could help me out by finding someone to replace my tires, I'd appreciate it. I need to get back on the road. I only live over in Spokane. It's a little over an hour away. I could easily drive that distance tonight."

  "New tires are being installed now. You can be on the road in a half hour." He stood.

  Her shoulders sagged and her exhale filled the room. "Thank you. It means a lot to me that you're helping. I really appreciate it."

  He gazed down into her face. Despite the shadows underneath her eyes, he couldn't miss the intelligence, the strength, the beauty in the blue eyes staring back at him.

  "I'll check on the car. Why don't you take the bed, rest, and I'll come up and get you when it's time to leave." He skimmed the back of his knuckles down the slope of her cheekbone. "I'll lock the door. Nobody will bother you."

  "Thank you," she mouthed, her eyes drooping at his caress.

  He swallowed past the urge to make her feel even better. "Stop saying thanks, and concentrate on you."

  Someone should be taking care of her. Without prying too far into her life, he suspected she was truly alone. She might have Will or a family back home, but he sensed she was used to looking out for herself.

  Because she needed rest, and he could make that possible for her, he stepped away from her and walked out the door, shutting her securely in the room. The combination of strength and vulnerability in her was his undoing.

  He always left women warm in bed and never stuck around. He had no desire to push his luck and settle down. Life came hard and fast, and he wanted to enjoy every moment. He walked down the stairs. He could argue with himself all day long, and the fact was, before Natalie needed help, he was sucking a beer, staying by himself, and why?

  Because somehow seeing Kurt and Risa deeply in love, living the life, and happier than shit bothered him. He wanted that for his president. Hell, he enjoyed seeing his MC brothers fall one by one for their woman and the hell they went through to make sure they kept their old lady happy. Each moment, he counted himself lucky to remain single. Except lately, he didn't feel so lucky and he had no idea why.

  Down in the main room of the club, Kurt stood at the counter, leaning over the bar. Remmy joined him and glanced at the papers on the counter.

  "Sit down." Kurt glanced at him. "We need to talk."

  He planted his boot on the ring around the bar stool and p
ut his weight on the seat. "I take it whatever you found out about Natalie, I'm not going to like."

  "Oman brothers ring a bell?" Kurt shifted the papers.

  Upon arriving in Federal, Los Li—an affiliate of the Mexican mafia—murdered Robert and Chad Oman, the owners of Meghoni Mine, the main suppliers of silver in the world and the biggest company in Federal. Heaviness settled down on him. It was the first dangerous situation he and Kurt led the men on without the backup of the Bantorus MC first riders, but not the first danger he'd faced. He and the club had a lifetime of history with Los Li. The Oman brothers were merely caught in the middle of a territorial feud.

  "It's been almost a year. The investigators stated it was murder/suicide and closed the case." He set his elbows on the counter. "Los Li got away with murder, like always. What does that have to do with Natalie?"

  Kurt's jaw ticked. "Natalie Oman."

  Every muscle in his body tightened. Natalie claimed her husband died and she lived in Spokane. She was around the right age to be the wife of one of the Oman brothers. There was no denying the sadness he'd caught in her gaze. He exhaled in acceptance. "Fuck."

  "Keep your head. Our main concern is the connection with Los Li and how much she knows." Kurt turned around, leaned his backside against the counter, and looked out at the men playing pool. "The Mexican mafia will send anyone into Bantorus territory, and they've used women before. It could be their game plan to use the one woman we'd least expect to do their dirty work to infiltrate the club."

  "Jesus, prez. Her husband was killed by Los Li," he said.

  Kurt lowered his chin. "We know that. Sheriff Colby knows that. The FBI and the investigators who declared the Oman brother's death a murder/suicide believe otherwise. The public only knows what the investigators reported. The question is does Natalie know that her husband and her brother in law were murdered or does she believe one killed the other before killing himself? More importantly, why were you the one to run to her rescue?"

  "I don't believe in coincidences," he muttered.

  Kurt sighed. "Me neither, brother."

  Remmy shook his head. He'd never bring trouble down on Bantorus MC. The one thing he had was his club family, and there were too many lives to put at risk because he had a hard-on for a woman who wanted to fight him every step.