Page 37 of Fire Meets Fire

She winces, conceding the point. “But you weren’t able to keep it quiet.”

Brushing my hands over my face, I grimace. “It wasn’t that. My tech guy is good, but your records are redacted. He got some help from another member of the club, one who’s in another charter. He was the one who couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and Slugger got wind of it.”

She’s gone tense as she asks, “Slugger?”

I meet her eyes. “Some call him the national prez of the Wretched Soulz.”

“Some?”

I give a twisted grin. “It’s not confirmed. Officially, each charter of the Soulz is a law unto themselves.”

“So this Slugger holds some sway over your club.” She’s not stupid, but then I didn’t expect her to be.

I raise my chin, then lower it. “While you were sleeping, he arrived. Spouted about the bounty and got my brothers riled up about it.” My mouth quirks. “They’d all but gotten the Harley brochure out and were already ordering from it.”

She stands and walks over to the window, her hands forming fists. She doesn’t have to speak to let me know how upset she is that to my club her life’s worth no more than a few new motorcycles.

“I didn’t stop to think,” I tell her, again rubbing my hands across my face. “Some of the men would have been with me, but I think the rest would have seen no reason for not giving you up.”

“Because I stole from you.”

That’s it, exactly. Helo’s hardly some innocent looking for protection from us.

She stares at the trees outside. “You took the payday away from your club.”

Put so starkly, it sounds bad. “I’ve bought us some time.” I’m hoping I’ll be able to explain why and what I’ve done. Difficult when even I don’t understand my precipitous decision that I had to get her away. If she asked me for an explanation, I don’t know what I’d say. I just feel in my bones she’s someone who deserves to be saved. Maybe not just my bones, my cock had a lot to say about it.

“I don’t understand why,” she says flatly. “You owe nothing to me. You don’t know anything about me except I’m an ex vet.” She does that little shrug again. “I know some people are grateful to those who’ve served, but it has to be more than that.”

It’s hard for me to put what I don’t understand into words. “You’re fuckin’ brave, intelligent. You’ve probably faced death in the face a thousand times. To be a woman in the Night Stalkers you must have been a fuckin’ demon in the sky. A life like that doesn’t deserve to be snuffed out for whatever amount of dollars.”

“You know nothing about me at all,” she refutes, staring me down. “You surmise I’m a hero, yet you know little more than my name and rank. If I was a man, would you still be protecting me?”

I know enough about myself to know I would not. “A man could look after himself,” I say, immediately knowing that was unwise. As a literal hiss comes out of her mouth, I hasten to rectify my error. “So shoot me,” I start fast. “I noticed you were a fuckin’ woman.” I raise my hand to pre-empt her interruption. “I know you can protect yourself, but I didn’t want you to have to. I wanted to help you.”

“At the expense of losing your club?” Her words are spat out as if she doesn’t believe me.

I have to give her more. I have to lay all my cards on the table. Running my hands over my skull, I prepare to bare my soul. “Never wanted an old lady. If I want sex, I’ve any number of volunteers. Never saw a woman as my equal, as a companion or confidant.” I risk a glance up and see she’s listening avidly. “Until you, Helo. Suddenly you appeared in my world and turned it upside down.” I huff a mirthless laugh. “Here I am, spilling my cards, when even I can’t understand my reaction to you. And hell, I don’t even know how you look at me in return. I’m older than you?—”

There’s a ping from the oven timer. I stand and take out the pizza. Without me having to ask, she’s by my side and taking down a couple of plates. As if by mutual agreement, we suspend conversation as we both sate our appetites.

I’ve bared my soul, and now she’s going to reject me. Well, I deserve it. There I was, thinking I was some hotshot who had a chance with a superwoman who must be ten years off my age. The only reason she hasn’t immediately shot me down is she’s trying to be diplomatic about it. She is, after all, isolated in a cabin far away from any town, with no means of transport. And she doesn’t know me from Adam. I could have a suppressed anger inside me that won’t take well to any rejection.

I’m a fucking fool. I deserve to eat my own bullet.

Accepting I’ve probably already crashed and burned as far as any exploration of a relationship between us is concerned, like an addict grasping one last final fix before rehab, I can’t seem to take my eyes off her.

She eats with economical movements, as if putting fuel into her body means little more than me pumping gas into my bike. As she chews and swallows mechanically, she doesn’t once glance up, seeming to analyse every piece before eating. I decide she’s buying time, expecting to have to walk out of here and sensibly taking the chance to fill her stomach first.

When she swallows a final time, then rubs her lips with the back of her hand, she emits a heavy sigh. As I brace myself for rejection, she leans back and a clouded look comes into her eyes.

“I stole from your club as I didn’t think it was really theft if it belonged to criminals.”

After her opening statement, she glances up. I don’t know whether to laugh or be offended at her explanation, but as I can’t deny we pride ourselves on being a one-percenter club living outside society’s rules, I’m on thin ice if I deny the handle, even if I don’t like it.

Still, I do defend myself, even if the same can’t be said for a number of my brothers. “I’ve never been to prison in my life.”

There’s a slight upturn to her lips as she retorts, “Luck that you haven’t been caught?”

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