Shock swept through her, followed by a sickening wave of humiliation. The one and only time she’d put herself out there, she got the door slammed in her face.
Well, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her pain. She’d been stupid to even think he’d be interested in someone like her. Bikers went for the girly girls, with big boobs and bigger hair, tight clothes, high heels, and snappy comebacks. She’d never seen a sweet butt at the clubhouse dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, her hair in a pony tail, face clean of makeup, nails bitten to the quick, and her feet bare.
Know thyself. Her grandmother had cross-stitched a tea towel with that saying, and Naiya had taken it to heart. She wasn’t girly or particularly pretty. She would never achieve glamour or excitement, or play the games she’d watched her friends play, but she could make a difference in her own way. Once she got a job, she could make the world a better place, help catch the criminals who sold drugs, ran guns, and committed murder. Criminals like the bikers. Like Holt.
“Let me know if you need anything else.” She kept her voice calm and even as she pushed herself off the bed, remembering the first aid kit only when it hit the floor with a soft thunk. Unable to face Holt again, she kept walking. She’d pretty much dressed all his wounds. If he wanted more treatment, he could damn well do it himself.
“Naiya. Wait.”
But she didn’t wait. Couldn’t wait. A black hole had opened in her chest and was sucking her in. She needed to keep moving, make a plan. No more of this impulsive bullshit. It wasn’t her, and it definitely wasn’t how she wanted to live her life.
“Night, Holt.” She closed the door behind her and made her way down the hall. Maybe a few hours on the Internet to check bus routes out of the state and places she could go while she job-searched online would calm her down. She’d never left Montana before, but California appealed. Warm. Sunny. She could sit by the ocean and listen to the surf. Ally had given her some money to tide her over until she could arrange things with her bank—without her ID and bank cards, she would have to jump through several hoops to access her accounts and that would take time.
She looked back at the closed door and sighed. For a moment she’d been lured into thinking she could lean on someone else, that she wasn’t alone. But that wasn’t the lesson she’d learned at the Black Jack clubhouse.
And she would be a fool to forget it.
NINE
Holt woke up in a bad mood.
No, scratch that. Worse than bad. And it wasn’t helped by the fact he had woken up alone after spending the night with a hard on that just wouldn’t quit. He’d beat that puppy into submission enough times that his dick was chafed and sore, but damned if he hadn’t woken up in the morning in the middle of a hot dream about Naiya, and he had to deal with the situation all over again.
Maybe it was the three months of forced abstinence. Or maybe it was the relief of knowing that vital appendage was in full working order. Or maybe it was the woman who embodied all his fantasies, and called to his deepest protective instincts. He still couldn’t believe he’d told her to leave. When had he ever asked a woman to leave before he’d fucked her silly? But he wanted her so bad, he needed to be firm to keep her safe. Thank fuck she’d got the message because the things he wanted to do to her …
He found Naiya in the living room, stuffing clothes into her backpack beside a neatly folded pile of blankets and a pillow.
“Why the fuck did you sleep on the couch?”
“I didn’t want to disturb you.” She didn’t look up, but he could see her tension in the rigid line of her neck, the set of her jaw, the waver of her voice. He’d been too harsh, ruined what little trust had grown between them. The irony wasn’t lost on him. He’d pushed her away to save her from the side of him that could hurt her far more than she was hurting now.
“What are you doing?” He gestured to the bag as understanding dawned.
“I’m going to catch a bus in town and head out of state. Maybe take a vacation until the whole Viper thing is sorted out, and apply for jobs from a beach somewhere. I’ve never had a vacation before. Ever since I left home, it’s been work, work, work.” She shoved her Beaver Country shirt into the bag. “You look like you’ll make a full recovery. And you’ve got a mission to fulfill. Since you aren’t going to take me to the Sinners, I need to look out for myself and priority number one is getting out of town.”
“Is this because of what happened last night?” Holt wasn’t usually so direct. He had never been a confrontational kind of guy. Usually, he would go with the flow, but right now he was seized by an urgent sense of desperation. He couldn’t let her go, and it wasn’t just because he needed her to lure Viper.
“No, of course not.” She turned away, tightening her grip on the bag, her hair swinging over her cheek, hiding her face.