Page 2 of Cyrus

The woman on stage engaged the crowd with her presence alone. Just looking at her, one would never be able to tell she had such a big voice. Not only that, but her charisma was off the fucking charts. She had every fucking horny-ass motherfucker in the fucking bar moving toward her. Some were whooping and hollering, singing the song with her like it was some rock anthem at a stadium concert. Some swung women around on the dance floor, but every single one of them was homing in on her. And the little witch looked disturbingly familiar.

As she danced on stage and flirted with the audience, I became aware I’d left the bar and was moving toward her myself. I’d love to say I was caught up in the moment, in the music and the spontaneity of it all. I’d love to say that. But the fact was, it was the woman. Her beauty and sexuality. Her passion for life and people. And I knew the little witch! How the fuck had she ended up here?

Odette Muse was trouble with a capital T-R-O-U-B-L-E. She was also the much younger half-sister of a man I knew when we were in the Air Force together. Last I heard, he still lived in Palm Beach, Florida, and rode with a club called Salvation’s Bane. I’d met Odette there where she was trying to sneak into the compound with a prospect she was way too good for. At sixteen she’d been a free spirit. In love with life and all the pleasures of the flesh, so to speak.

That had only been two years ago, but it was a memory that was clear as fucking crystal. I’d stopped her from fucking that prospect by dragging her back to her brother, but I had no doubt she’d found someone else. Hopefully a man more worthy of her beauty and passion. As well as closer to her own fucking age. Though now, at eighteen, I suppose it didn’t matter as much.

I clenched my fists as I made my way toward the stage like I was in a trance. Emotions were elusive for me. Things better left in a sealed box inside my mind. Not today. Rage like nothing I’d ever experienced poured through me like molten lava. Hot and viscous. It clung to my insides and seared me from the inside out as I watched other men watching her. Touching her when she danced near them as she sang fucking karaoke. I wasn’t good with emotions. Mine or anyone else’s. So this punch to the gut was as unwelcome as it was unexpected.

Odette was better than this. She should sing her own songs. Be in a famous band. Anything other than the main entertainment at fucking karaoke night in a backwoods bar. I was torn between jerking her off the stage and taking her out back to spank her delectable ass, or killing any motherfucker who touched her. Maybe I’d do both.

I’d just reached the stage when the song ended. She stood there with a huge smile on her face, holding a microphone while she waved at the cheering crowd. Odette jumped straight up, throwing her arms in the air in joy, laughing like she didn’t have a care in the world. What the fuck was she doing here? And why wouldn’t Blade give us a heads-up if he knew his sister was coming this way?

She stumbled sideways and nearly fell on her ass. Thank God I was there to catch her, or she’d have broken her fool neck falling from the stage. Like she hadn’t just fallen off the stage right into a strange man’s arms, Odette laughed and threw her arms around my neck. I could smell the alcohol on her the second she dropped into my arms but also her own faint scent of honeysuckle. That scent had haunted me ever since the first day I met Odette.

The little nymph buried her face in my neck and inhaled. “Ain’t smelled a man like you since I tried to nail me a biker.” God, that sultry voice! The woman had me hard as a fucking rock with just her fucking voice. And her scent. And the softness of her skin. The crowd roared and the people next to us pawed at her. She seemed oblivious as she nuzzled her face against my skin. “So delicious…”

“Snap out of it, Odette!” I growled at her. No clue if she heard me or not, but I doubted she did. Even if it wasn’t so loud I couldn’t hear myself think in there, especially once another song started up and the next singer belted out her song as loud as Odette had, I was pretty sure Odette was completely wasted. Anything I said or did until she sobered up would be a waste of time and breath.

I moved to the front of the bar and the exit, needing to get her out of there so I could at least make sure she was OK. Blaze and Wylde fell in step beside me. Wylde was cracking up, Blaze grinned but shook his head. Whether it was at me or Wylde I had no idea but it had better have been Wylde. I wasn’t in the mood.

“Bro, I wish like fuck you could’ve seen your face when you realized who was up on stage.” Wylde was wheezing he was laughing so hard.

“Wylde, you might want to back off for a while,” Blaze advised, clapping the younger man on the shoulder. “Don’t think this is the time.”

“Need a cage.” My voice was rough with anger, and I nearly bared my teeth at Wylde. “Not your fuckin’ mouth.”

“Not to worry. I got Clutch bringing the Bronco. He can take your girl back to the compound.” Thankfully, Blaze still had his head on straight. Though, like fuck Clutch was doing anything with my girl.

Except she wasn’t my girl. I didn’t say anything, but no one -- no one -- was touching Odette but me. That included my brothers. Especially my brothers. Because she had a thing for bikers. Probably all the men her brother hung around. Blade had never made it a secret he belonged to an MC. Even in the conservative area he lived in, he wore his colors loud and proud.

Sure enough, it wasn’t but a couple seconds, I saw Clutch pull around the corner in the dark blue Bronco. He rolled down the window and grinned.

“Need a lift?” He flashed a friendly half smile when he rolled the window down.

“No,” I snapped. “Get out.”

Clutch’s demeanor changed in an instant. “You lettin’ me ride your bike? ‘Cause I gotta tell you. I’m pretty fuckin’ fond of this cage and I know how much you love that fuckin’ Harley.”

I did bare my teeth this time. “Get. Out.”

“You’re my brother, Cyrus. And I know you got issues but I’m the road captain in this outfit. Which means I fuckin’ outrank you. And you don’t get to fuckin’ tell me what to do with the fuckin’ cage.”

“Long story, Clutch,” Blaze offered. “Take his bike and I’ll fill you in.”

Somewhere in my mind, I knew there was a reason I should protest Blaze giving Clutch permission to ride my bike, but all I could focus on at the moment was Odette. She’d passed out in my arms soon after she started sniffing my neck. Now she was snoring softly, her lips against my skin. She was fine now, but how would she do on the ride home?

“Where’s Stitches?” I wanted him to check her over before I put her to bed. Might be something other than alcohol and I needed to make sure.

Blaze opened the passenger door to the cage and I settled Odette in, reclining the seat back a bit so she had a better center of gravity. I didn’t want her pitching forward or to the side as I drove.

“Think he had a shift tonight. Want me to have him come see you when he gets off?”

I met Blaze’s gaze with what I was sure was a hostile one of my own. “No, dumbass. I want you to tell him I need his fuckin’ ass at the fuckin’ clinic. Now.”

“Not sure it works that way, Cyrus.” Blaze scrubbed the back of his neck. “How ‘bout I tell him we’re meetin’ him at the hospital. He can tell you what you need to do then.”

Wylde let out an angry squawk as Clutch practically tossed his drunk ass in the back seat. “Not a word outa you, Wylde. And don’t fuckin’ puke in my cage!” Clutch snarled. “You do, I’ll take the cleanin’ out in your hide.”

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