Chapter Three
Quartzsite would be easy enough to find. It was a straight shot on the I-10, just on the other side of the California/Arizona border. As to where exactly I could find the former VP of the Warlocks was another matter but I supposed I could tackle that problem when I’d cleared the distance remaining between me and possible safety. At any rate, I would feel better if I got out of California altogether.
Though it was only early April the heat of the desert seeped into the car as I drove deeper into the brown landscape of Death Valley. When I tried to turn on the air conditioning a hideous noise from somewhere in the vehicle’s bowels forced me to switch it off quickly. I figured I had another hour or so of driving ahead. I could only hope that the police weren’t ardently scouring the state for a battered Corolla.
But they might be actively searching for the sole survivor of a bloody motorcycle club massacre.
I took a deep breath and prepared to cross the border into Arizona. I still couldn’t allow myself to grieve properly. Right now I needed to focus on getting to Orion Jackson.
The state border turned out to be only nominally attended and I was waved through without a second glance. I breathed with relief and looked ahead. Arizona greeted me in all its barren glory. To me it was the possibility of safety. It was beautiful. I squinted into the morning sun and saw a crookedly painted white Q on the side of a small mountain. I was closing in on Quartzsite.
As I reached what I presumed to be the center of town I saw a lot of dilapidated trailer parks. A few white-haired residents lounged outside leisurely. What buildings there were all looked old and many were run down. None looked any more likely than the other to host the former Vice President of the Warlocks.
A slight sense of panic began to bubble in my stomach. I’d counted only on getting to Quartzsite. How did I mean to find a man who didn’t necessarily want to be found?
As I piloted the car through the sandy side roads of the town, I worried further. It seemed to be a haven of snowbirds mixed with a handful of hardy residents who eyed me suspiciously. Just as I started to think I’d become hopelessly lost on the winding, narrow streets, I braked hard.
The one story building was low-roofed and unassuming. A larger, sprawling stucco structure lay just beyond the place which was identified with a crooked sign as ‘Riverbottom Bar’. And lined up in front were at least ten motorcycles.
It was the first hint that I might have come to the right place after all.
As I parked the car crookedly I had the prickly, unpleasant feeling that I was being watched. I crossed my arms protectively across my chest as I walked to the door, feeling very self-conscious about my meager attire. It couldn’t be helped. I had nothing else.
The interior was very dark and covered in a thick haze of smoke. I squinted into the dim room and saw that a few hulking shapes at the bar had swiveled around at my entrance.
I cleared my throat. “I’m looking for Orion Jackson.”
The silence which greeted me seemed deadly. It might have just been my nerves which were understandably shot to hell but I didn’t think so. The stares seemed distinctly hostile.
“Who the f*ck are you?” growled a low voice at the bar.
I saw no point in being coy. “Kira Tolleson.”
Somewhere a fork clattered to the floor.
The man at the bar who had spoken to me rose from his seat. His voice hadn’t grown any friendlier. “You related to Crest Tolleson?”
I beat back the sob in my throat. “He was my father.”
“Was,” the man nodded. “Yeah, we heard.” He pointed to me. “Sit the f*ck down and wait.” He disappeared down a hallway. I noticed he wore a cut with large red lettering spelling out ‘DEFIANT’ across the back. A few seconds later I heard a door slam.
There was little choice but to do as he had ordered. I placed my hands on the table and stared at them, willing them not to shake. After a moment a lovely black-haired woman brought me a beer and a shot glass full of amber liquid.
“Oh,” I stammered. “Thank you, but I’m actually not twenty one.”
She smiled at me pityingly. “Drink it anyway, hon.” She glanced toward the dark hallway. “You’ll need it.”
I closed my eyes and took the shot, chasing it with a swallow of beer. It burned going down. My eyes were still closed when he reached my side.
“Kira Tolleson,” he clucked softly.
I looked up into a face I’d seen nearly every day for the first decade of my life. The years since then hadn’t done him any harm. Orion Jackson was as broad and muscled as ever. His dark hair was still short and his chiseled jaw wore only a shadowy hint of beard. His sharp blue eyes searched my face and then traveled lower.
I rose from my chair, hoping for some sign of affection from the man who had once been almost a second father to me, but the hard set of his jaw reminded me that was a long time ago. Orion grabbed me around the wrist.
“Come with me,” he demanded.
Orion pinned my arm behind my back and pushed me down the dark hallway and out a back door. I scarcely had time to blink into the bright sun before he was practically shoving me into the neighboring building.
A quartet of men sat around a table counting piles of money. One was the first man who had greeted me in the bar. They looked at us with interest as Orion propelled me down another hallway and into a small bedroom. He slammed the door behind him.
I tore out of his grasp, rubbing my wrist. There would be no friendly reunion. Orion glared at me with something between suspicion and anger.
“Hello to you too, Orion,” I managed to say with an edge of sarcasm.
“What the f*ck are you doing here, Kira?” He crossed his arms, waiting. I didn’t know what he would do if he didn’t like my answer.
“My father is dead.”
Orion nodded. “Yeah, I know. And despite all the shit that went down between us I’m sorry to hear it.” A look of grief washed over the big man’s face and his voice lowered. “He was the closest thing to a real brother I ever had.” The grief evaporated and he regarded me coolly. “Now how about you answer my f*cking question?”
“I-“ My voice broke and I took a deep breath. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go, Orion. SF Outlaws will hunt me like a dog. Crest told me once that if things were ever that desperate I should find you.”
Orion’s eyebrows shot up and his face broke into a grin. “Did he? And what did Crest Tolleson say I ought to do with you in your, ah, ‘desperate’ state?”
I licked my lips, thinking. Though he was smiling, there was something distinctly cold about Orion’s expression, as if I was nothing more than an object to toy with for a few minutes. “He didn’t say. But I thought maybe because I am the daughter of a man you used to hold in some esteem-“
Orion burst into loud laughter. “Shit, listen to you. Girl, you think this is some sort of underworld Ronald McDonald house where I’m gonna shield you from all the terrors of the night?” He took a step closer and leaned over. My face grew hot he reached a large hand out and touched me under the chin.
“Maybe,” he said softly, “if you were still a child I might have had a heart.” There was no mistaking the way his eyes traveled over my body. I began to wish more desperately I was clothed in something more substantial than a pink tank top and cutoffs. Orion grinned nastily. “But you’re not a child anymore, are you, Kira?”
I swallowed. “What do you want?”
Orion’s blue eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms. I stared at the tattoos which snaked from his wrists to his biceps. His voice was low with a vague threat. “Don’t play your little college girl games with me, Kira. You know goddamn well what I want.”
I was disgusted. He couldn’t be serious. I looked him square in the eye. “Why don’t you just take it then?”
Orion pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and leisurely lit the end. “So you did get something of your daddy’s spirit. Glad to see you’re not just a tired rag like your mother.”
“F*ck you.”
Orion bent over me and blew a cloud of smoke in my face. My hands clenched into fists at my side, trying to brace for whatever would come next. I gasped when he abruptly cupped my right breast. He ran his thumb idly over the instantly hard nipple and I bit my lip, trying to will away the rising heat between my legs.
“You haven’t,” he said softly. “Have you?”
“What?” I whispered.
“Been f*cked, Kira.” He took his hand away from my breast and I almost moaned with complaint. Orion took another drag of his cigarette and flashed me another amused grin.
“I’ve been f*cked plenty,” I lied but my voice squeaked at the end.
“Bullshit. You’re so tight you might crack. Should have known. No man in his senses would dare screw the daughter of Crest Tolleson. Your daddy would have ripped his ever loving legs off.” Orion laughed. “If the prick was lucky.”
I’d had enough. Something broke in me at the mention of my father. Orion Jackson wasn’t going to help me for nothing and I sure as hell wasn’t going to eagerly pay whatever fleshly price he had in mind. I had Crest’s spirit all right and I’d be damned if I’d open up and get plowed by some lousy biker hood who was twice my age just on the off chance he might save my skin for a little while.
I didn’t realize I had stood and was actually yelling these things up at a man who could easily break me in half until I felt his hard palm against my mouth. As he silenced me he pinned my arms behind my back and pushed me against the wall.
“Kira,” he warned, his breath hot on my neck. “Don’t say something you can’t take back.”
But I was still thrashing with fiery anger. I just wanted to get in my car (well, the car that I’d stolen) and peel out of this desert hellhole. I wanted to go someplace clean, someplace where there were no bikes and no jackets, no patches, no brotherhoods.
And then I realized Orion’s breath had quickened and that my breasts were pressed against the firm, heaving muscles of his chest. He pushed a knee between my legs and moved his hips so that I could feel exactly how big he was, how hard he was. And I stopped struggling.
Our mouths met in a fury of tongues and need. The part of me which was shock that Orion Jackson’s tongue was in my mouth was silenced by the part of me which was dying for him to do more. I answered the grinding motion of his hips with movement of my own. Orion broke the kiss abruptly.
“I’m no f*cking gentleman, Kira.” His forefinger traveled underneath the flimsy strap of my tank top and with one fluid flick of his wrist the strap broke. “But I will help you in more ways than one. If you say yes.”
My breath was coming in hard gasps. With each one I felt the strain of my nipples against what remained of the flimsy cotton fabric separating my breasts from his naked chest. I fought to steel my voice. Orion Jackson wasn’t a tender man. Crying wouldn’t do any good. “What exactly would I be agreeing to?”
Orion’s hand snaked around my head and he pulled my hair slightly so that I had no choice but to meet his gaze square on. “The way I see it, darlin’, you’ve got a few options. I’ll let you leave right now and you can take your chances with the cops and the SF Outlaws and whatever the f*ck else is out there.” Orion leaned in and ran his tongue along the line of my jaw. I tightened every muscle in my body, trying not to respond. “Or, you can become clubhouse entertainment.” He jerked his head toward the outer room where the other Defiant members remained. “There’s always room out there for a girl willing to spread wide as long as she isn’t choosy. And we’ll even let you serve drinks in the bar and get your ass groped as a way to earn some cash.”
Orion released me and paused, waiting to see what I would do. My head dropped. Who was I kidding? Sure, I’d watched men like these my whole life. I’d listened to their harsh words, heard the contents of their dirty minds. I’d seen the way they casually acquired and discarded their women, rarely sinking into anything resembling a relationship. But I’d always been kept separate. Crest had seen to that. He had wanted something different for me; a good life. In my two years at Berkeley I’d studied like hell and avoided the messiness that comes with sex and partying.
I chewed on my lower lip. Look where Crest’s careful attempt at a sheltered life had gotten me. To the same place I would have ended up all along; an accessory to the whims of hard and violent men. My father was dead and there was no one left who gave a shit what happened to me. Still, I had some fire in my gut. I’d walk out that door and do what I had to in order to survive. Unless…
“Is there a third option?” I asked Orion, flatly meeting his stare. He had watched me through my inner struggle with an inscrutable expression. But at my question a flicker of something I couldn’t read lit within the depths of his eyes.
“There is,” he told me, pressing himself between my legs again. “You can belong to me.”
“Belong to you?” I spat. “Like some sort of sick sex slave arrangement?”
Orion smiled. “No,” he shook his head. “I’ll do things for you, Kira.” His hips began a slow grind. “And I’ll f*cking demand that you do things for me.”
I squirmed as my body began to betray me once more. Perhaps it was the shot I’d taken. Or the adrenaline coursing through my blood. But in spite of the many horrors of the day and the crazy place I found myself in, I wanted Orion Jackson. I wanted him bad.
And he knew it.
Orion brusquely reached into that tight crevice between my legs. I’d been out with boys before and endured some terse fumbling in the dark as they experimented. It never lasted long and always left me cold and puzzled. But Orion was no boy. He was a man who knew exactly what to do; where to press, how to stroke.
I braced my palms on his hard shoulders as he slowly unbuttoned my shorts, pulling down the zipper and running his fingers along that sensitive place at the gateway of my sex. I felt myself getting slippery and I strained against his touch, wanting more, wanting him to move deeper. But he only played at the entrance, lightly stimulating me until I began to feel the rising wave of pleasure. There were times when I’d touched myself guiltily in the dark, pressing fervently, wanting to feel that crashing scream which was such a goddamn big deal to the entire world.
But I’d never come close to achieving the shudder which wracked me as Orion Jackson brought me the brink and then suddenly stopped.
“Look at me, Kira.”
I obeyed. The man who had once been my father’s best friend, his second in command, stared at me with such fiery lust I was almost frightened.
“You think it over,” he whispered and then kissed me so hard and long my lips felt bruised.
He left me there against the wall of his room, slamming the door as he exited. I heard the low murmuring of crass male voices on the other side and I sank to the floor, the strap of my shirt dangling like a raggedy shoelace. With a brief curse I tied it up as best I could, though I supposed it didn’t matter.
What would my father have said if he could see me now? If he knew what I was considering? I had no doubt that Orion wanted me like hell, but there also had to be some perverse joy in hammering the only daughter of the man he had to despise for driving him out of the Warlocks, out of the state.
Orion didn’t leave me alone long, although it made no difference; I’d made up my mind within a minute.
His hand remained on the doorknob as he waited for me to speak first.
“Yes,” I told him in a clear voice, expecting that he would shut the door again and start making demands. The thought scared me, but only slightly. Between my legs I was still damp and ready.
But with that one word of agreement Orion’s demeanor changed. He gave me a friendly smile. “I’ll send one of the girls out with some clothes. And I expect you’ll be hungry.”
“Well, yeah,” I admitted slowly, glancing at the sloppy bed. “But aren’t we going to-“
“No,” answered Orion firmly. “I’m not going to f*ck you on the day you saw your daddy killed. Today, Kira, I’m going to take care of you.” He looked me up and down and his grin became more lewd. “But tomorrow,” he said, “I’m going to lay you out and f*ck you until you can’t stand.” He gazed at me mildly. “Sound good?”
I could only nod.
Orion withdrew a pile of twenty dollar bills from his back pocket and threw it on the bed. “Get whatever else you need,” he said and then left without another word. I sank to the floor again, my mind doing cartwheels.
“Shit,” I whispered, weakly leaning my head against the wall.
What the hell had I done?