Spark in the Ashes (Steel Souls MC Book 1) Page 17

  “I can’t tell you right now. Watch her every move, protect her at all costs, but don’t fuck her.”

  I stare at him with confusion as my mouth gapes open and shut while I process what to say next. “Uh … It’s a bit late for that, JJ,” I say, not making any sense of what he’s asking of me. What does it matter to him if I fuck her or not?

  “Fuck!” he grits out, banging his fists on the table between us.

  “Why are you asking me to do this? I can’t fuck her, but I have to lay down my life for her?”

  “Yes. I can’t tell you why just now, not until I’ve figured it all out.”

  “Well, let me help you,” I offer, more to satisfy my anxiety that’s building by the second. “Is she with The Wolves?”

  “No. I don’t know. I don’t think so.” He clasps his hands in front of him and rests his forehead on them. “Truth is, Ram. There’s shit you don’t know. There’s even more shit I don’t know. But what I do know is that this has to be sorted, and fast, and in the meantime, if she’s with you, she’s a target. If she’s seen with any of us here, she’s a target and a big fucking one at that. We’ve probably already painted a bullseye on her back. She’s worth more to us alive than dead. Please, Ram. Just trust me.”

  “Why?” I yell.

  “Because I fucking said so,” he yells back.

  “Never thought you’d try to cock block me, Prez.”

  He shakes his head. “Me either.”

  “She’s different, man. She’s not a hang-around.” He shrugs and looks at me with indifference. “So I won’t promise not to touch her. Because I can’t. Can’t see what difference it will make to any situation. But I will keep her safe. Would’a done it anyway.”

  He nods, pain and problems etching lines into his face as we sit here and stare at each other.

  “So what do I go back and tell her?”

  “Nothing,” he snaps. “Nothing at all. Act normal. Take her home and get her to collect some belongings. She can come and stay here in the spare room for a few days while I try and sort this shit out.”

  “No,” I bark, instantly enraged at the thought of her being in a room here alone when she could be in my bed with me.

  JJ slams his hand down on the desk between us. “You just said you would—”

  “I said I wouldn’t promise not to touch her. If you want her here, she stays with me. That’s the deal. Who the fuck is going to know if she’s in my bed or out in the fucking yard?”

  He looks at me for long moments, and I stare hard back at him. If he wants me to trust him on this and do as he’s asking, then he’s going to have to be willing to compromise. She’s mine. She was mine from the second I saw her, and whatever crazy shit he thinks he might or might not know isn’t going to stop me being with her.

  “Fine,” he says through gritted teeth with a shake of his head.

  “Anything else?”

  “How long have you got?”

  “JJ, I’m your VP, share a little here, will ya?” I sit back in my seat and spark up a cigarette before tossing the packet across the desk too, showing him that despite being desperate to get back to my girl, I’m showing him some respect and trying to lighten his load.

  “I’m putting Vinny in to manage the bar. We’re losing money while it’s closed, and I don’t want people talking shit. Vin will put them straight and keep his ear to the ground too.”

  “Good. I like Vinny. Shame he doesn’t want to be a member.”

  “Yeah, he’s not interested. It’s good having him on the payroll though.”

  “So what else is worrying that pretty little head of yours? Other than the threat of The Wolves, someone trying to muscle in on our deals, and shit with my girl that you won’t tell me about?” I ask.

  He laughs and grabs the cigarette packet in front of him. “Lia tells me I smoke too much.”

  I shrug. “Yeah, you probably do.”

  “There’s gonna be retaliation for Dago and Spice, you know that, don’t you?”

  I nod. “Yeah, I figured there would be, but I was sick of being a sitting duck, waiting for them to make a real move instead of teasing us with their feeble shoot ‘em up shit. Anyone can open fire at a brick building, JJ.”

  “I know.”

  “Plus, Rev is nowhere to be found. They’re just a bunch of leather-wearing pussies without him. Hobo is a sad fucking excuse for a VP and can’t hold shit together without Rev, so, I’d say we got the upper hand.”

  “You hope.”

  “Hey, I’m not scared of them. Bring it the fuck on. I’m ready for them, man. I’ll cut all their throats and smile while I’m doing it. They’re not taking Reno, Prez. It’s ours, and I’ll die before I bend over and let them take it from us.”

  “Good man.” He grins. “Look, let’s just get on with shit. There are prospects watching The Wolves for any activity. I have ears to the ground, and I need to sleep. Big fight night tomorrow.”

  “Yeah. Dev is focused and fucking scary. Shouldn’t take too long to earn us some big money.”

  “Good. Now get the fuck out of here.”

  “Thanks, JJ.” I stand and clap him on the shoulder.

  “Ram?” he calls quietly as I walk off.

  “Yup.”

  “Look into the girl that didn’t show up for her shift at the bar, would ya? Just to be on the safe side.”

  “Sure thing. Now go the fuck to bed. You’re a grumpy motherfucker when you haven’t had your beauty sleep.”

  “Fuck off, Ramsey.”

  “Over and out, captain.”

  Chapter 19

  A weight presses on me as Ram climbs up my body and straddles my waist. I groan at his presence and smile as I turn to look up at him and he pushes his groin into me.

  “Get dressed, darlin’,” he whispers in my ear, then kisses my cheek.

  “Why? What’s going on?” I try to twist my body to see him better but he has his thighs clamped tight, and I can’t move an inch. I’m not complaining, in fact, being pinned between Ram’s tight thighs is fast becoming my favorite place to be.

  “Got places to be.”

  “I don’t have anywhere to be,” I remark with sass.

  “Do you ever just do as you’re told?” he asks, cocking his brow and lowering his chest so I’m completely covered by him.

  “Nope,” I answer, wiggling underneath him. “Where are we going?”

  He springs off me with the agility of a cat, which is crazy since he’s heavily built and doesn’t look nimble, but he’s surprisingly fast. He ignores me while he gathers up my clothes from where they lay scattered on the floor after last night, and balls them up in his hands before tossing them at me. “Get. Dressed,” he orders with a playful tone, but it’s still an order nonetheless.

  “You gonna stand there and watch?” I say, noting that he seems to have planted himself right where he is with seemingly no intention to move.

  “Maybe,” he shrugs, standing with his hip cocked.

  “Fine.” I pull back the sheet and slowly slide my legs over the edge of the bed so I’m sitting up and fully naked in front of him. His eyes widen, and his mouth drops open just a fraction, but he still doesn’t move. I stretch my arms above my head, then ruffle my hands through my hair, trying to shake out some of the crazy mad tangles that apparently happen when you have a man who likes to anchor himself to your body with your hair wrapped in his hands. My heartbeat picks up, remembering the raw passion, the sweaty, sex-filled scent in the air that mingled with the sounds of our bodies finding a new level of pleasure. I look up at him seductively through my lashes, and I play him at his own game.

  His phone bleeps in his pocket, and that’s enough to snap through the sexual tension. He grabs his phone and turns to walk away. “You’ve got five minutes,” he adds, shaking his head with a laugh before disappearing into his en suite.

  I watch him until the door clicks shut behind him.

  Fuck.

  I’ve never known such electri
city between two people. Romantics talk about sparks flying and electricity traveling through their bodies with just one look, and the cynic in me always laughed at such nonsense. I’ve never been one for analogies and fluffy imagery. I like facts. Numbers. Codes. Clear-cut feelings that don’t blur lines and confuse the hell out of your mind. Now the cynic in me is starting to think it’s not all so black and white. Not all so cut and dry. Which, after the crazy, fucked up, emotional roller coaster of the last few days, just throws me into a deeper tailspin of confusion.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I dress without thinking, my mind racing to the stars and back at the speed of light, trying to put everything in some kind of order, neat little boxes of the same size, all lined up in a row. But it seems that no matter which box, or how many I have, there is no order. There is no explanation. Not yet, anyway.

  “Gonna need more than a shot of Botox if that crease gets any deeper in your forehead, Raven.”

  I snap my head up, startled at the sound of his voice breaking through my thoughts. And just like that, the racing scenarios and emotions quieten at the sound of his voice and the ease of his presence.

  “Why do you call me that?” I frown harder.

  He pushes his cell into the back pocket of his dark jeans. Jeans that fit in all the right places and cling to all the right muscles. Jeans that I could become jealous of being so close to his body.

  Crossing the room slowly, he commands my attention. His shoulders widen and his sharp blue eyes pierce mine, searching my soul for something so deep I don’t even know if it exists. “Raven?” he asks, and I nod. “Because,” he says in a low, gentle tone, “The first time I saw you, standing at the top of those steps, warring with yourself if you should take that man’s life, the moonlight caught your hair, and I noticed how black and shiny it was. Like a raven.” He takes a strand of my hair, brushing it from my face, then caressing it between his fingertips before tucking it securely behind my ear. “You brought death that night. A raven-haired messenger from hell or whatever the fuck you believe in. It warmed my steel soul, babe.” The smile in his eyes contains a spark of affection. This is deeper than superficial attraction, and he feels it too. I’m not imagining the magnetism between us, and I would bet my life that a man like him, immersed in his way of life, tainted by life and death, didn’t make shit up to bed a woman. He had them at his beck and call, and all he had to do was snap his fingers. This was different, on so many levels. He’d seen me that night. Not just visually—he saw way down deep into my soul, awakening something I never knew I was capable of possessing.

  Desire.

  I’d never wanted to desire a man. Never wanted to need a man for anything, let alone to keep my heart beating or to tangle with my soul in a beautiful, fucked-up dance.

  But his presence, the way he looks at me as if I am the answer to all of his questions. How he touches me like it’s the first time he’s touched anyone deeper than the surface of their skin. It’s grabbed hold of my heart, shaking it fiercely and making it breathe.

  He comes in close, nuzzling his head in the crook of my neck and letting his warm, fresh breath caress my skin and alight all my senses. I encourage him closer by dropping my head back, and I feel him smile against my collarbone. I swallow tightly as his hot tongue touches my throat and he kisses me slowly, stoking a rapidly growing fire. His large hand tucks in gently, cupping my cheek with his thumb while his fingers hold me securely to him around the back of my neck. His touch is light and painfully teasing. Then his lips leave my skin, and I open my eyes to question his abrupt departure. As soon as my gaze meets his, something intense flares through his expression and he hesitates for a second before he kisses me. A soft, tender kiss with such intensity and heat that it could solder metals.

  When he pulls away, he rests his forehead on mine. Both of us try to catch our breath, and I flex the muscles in my legs to try and stop them feeling like they could give out at any second. He smiles and strokes my cheekbone with his thumb, before taking my hand. “Let’s go.”

  I’m confused the whole journey to my house. I barely register that I’m on the back of Ram’s bike, holding on to him and letting him guide me to move and bend around the corners. My senses and emotions are all over the place, not to mention everything else that has gone down over the last week. Never in my life has everything seemed so mixed up. When my mom was killed, it was confusing. An eleven-year-old girl, thrown into a new kind of normal with the added pressure of hormones to deal with, as well as the death of the most important people in my life. But Vaughn was a constant. He made it…easy, if that was at all possible. If I was angry, he let me rage. But he would always pull me back to him and remind me that I wasn’t alone. This, all of this is different, isn’t it? Vaughn doesn’t know about any of it. He doesn’t need to know, and for the first time in my life, I don’t want him to. Because this is mine. My life. My path. My future. Is Ramsey my constant through this? Has some kind of weird fate thrown him into my path?

  It’s not until we’re off the bike and standing at my front door, keys in hand, that I even think to question Ramsey. I turn to where he’s standing just behind me on the lower step. “Why are we here?” I level my eyes at his. “If you think you can total my car, get me shot at and almost dead on the back of your bike,” I swallow loudly, “and spend the night with me, only to drop me home with my pulse racing and no wheels…” I leave that hanging in the air, and the bastard has the nerve to smirk at me. He raises his chin and tilts his head slowly like he’s getting ready to move in for a kiss.

  “Your pulse is still racing?” His voice is low, and smooth, ironically kicking up the beat of my pulse a notch.

  I smack him on the chest. “You’re not working your way around me. God, I’m such a fucking fool.” I rub at my temples. Frustrated—sexually and emotionally. Confused, with him, with us, with everything.

  He snatches up my wrist fast. “Stop being a typical woman. You need me to spell everything out for you?”

  “I—” I stutter, but my words are cut off by his lips forcefully taking mine.

  “There’s something about you. You probably think I say that to all the women I’ve been involved with. I don’t. I might not be good with words, but you have to believe in my actions. I have no intention of ending this.” He looks back and forth at the space between us before his eyes burn the truth into me. “I know it’s hard, and I know you’ve trusted few in your life, but you’re gonna have to trust me. You get where I’m at, Raven?”

  I nod. Relieved that he can see me, even when I’m trying to hide. Closing the small distance between us, I take his mouth in a rough, insistent kiss. “Now tell me why we’re here.”

  “We’re here to collect some of your belongings. You’re coming to stay with me for a few days.”

  “What? Why?” I squeak, louder than intended.

  “Because you’ve been seen with me. I don’t want you home alone when there’s a threat against my club and me. Besides.” He leans forward and takes my body tightly in his arms. “I want you in my bed. Last night was just the warm up.” He punctuates his statement by swirling his tongue under the sensitive spot just under my ear and sucking on my neck.

  “One night,” I say. Trying not to be blinded by his intoxicating touch.

  He pulls his mouth away abruptly, and I laugh, turning to open the door. “You’ll stay as long as I tell you to stay,” he grumbles, smacking my ass as I enter my house.

  Having stood untouched for nearly forty-eight hours due to me being with Ramsey and Vaughn being delayed in Salinas, the house feels weird. It’s silent and eerie, and the hairs on my arms all stand on end. I don’t know if it’s the talk of threats and not being allowed anywhere on my own that’s made me so uneasy, but home has never felt like this before. There’s always been someone here, even when Vaughn is away for business, which is never more than a few days.

  “Nice digs, Raven.” Ramsey whistles low, his head snapping around to take in our surrou
ndings as we walk. He can’t resist unashamedly poking his head in each of the doorways and taking a look.

  “You’re a nosy fucker,” I tell him, but he takes no notice.

  “Whose place is this?” he asks, opening the door to the closet under the stairs.

  “My stepdad’s,” I sigh. “Twenty-four and still living at home.”

  He ignores my comment. “What the fuck does he do for a living?”

  “I don’t know, exactly,” I answer, realizing that’s crazy. “Some kind of corporate mergers, I guess. Never paid much attention. I’m not really interested, and he doesn’t talk about it.”

  “Is it just the two of you?”

  “Yeah, well, and Nate. He lives in the annex. He’s kinda Vaughn’s bodyguard, but he’s like a piece of the furniture. I don’t really remember a time where he wasn’t around to some degree.”

  “Why does Vaughn need a bodyguard?” he questions.

  “Because he makes a fuckload of money and even more enemies along the way I suppose. The corporate sector is brutal, apparently.” I roll my eyes, reciting what Vaughn has told me many times. “Can we move on from the subject of Vaughn’s money? It bores me,” I sigh. “Anyway, help yourself to food or whatever is in the fridge. I’ll have a coffee, black, strong.”

  “Hold up.” Ram pulls his head out of the closet and runs to catch me up at the bottom of the stairs.

  I turn fast and stop him with my hand pressed against his chest. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “With you.”

  “I’m safe in here, Ramsey. I don’t need a shadow.” I slide my hand up his chest until my palm cups his cheek.

  “I know.” He shrugs. “But if you’re going upstairs, you’ll probably be taking off your clothes, and I’m not missing that.”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “You love it.”

  I smile, from the outside in. Because he’s right. I do love it.

  Chapter 20

  I don’t know why I’m surprised when she pushes open her bedroom door, but I am. It’s light and airy, and almost…girly.