Chapter Fourteen

Troy pulled up in front of Stacey and Brian’s house. It was sunny and warm, and the clapboard place looked like a welcoming smile. But he felt anything but cheerful.

Stacey had been very quiet on the drive home, withdrawn right into herself while he’d played what-ifs in his mind. The Stacey he enjoyed most was the one who’d begged for his cock. He wanted that Stacey back.

Even though he shouldn’t.

This wasn’t a relationship. He didn’t do relationships. But that didn’t stop him wanting her.

She leaped from the car, and he winced at the sharp gravel on the driveway digging into her bare feet as she raced for her front door.

She twisted the handle, but it was locked. “Damn.”

He got out to help her.

She spun to face him. “I hid a spare key. I don’t need your help.”

His heart thudded painfully. Great. She was wiping him out of her life like an eraser on a dirty page.

He took a metal instrument from his set of keys, slid it into the lock, and jiggled until he heard it pop. “You need to get a better lock. I’ll come put one in tomorrow.”

“No. That’s not a good idea. It was lovely today out on the bayou, and it did help reset my mood. But you’re too wild to fit into my life, Troy. Too dangerous.”

He didn’t disagree. “And you’re too vulnerable here alone.”

“I was fine until my brother got mixed up with you. It’s thanks to you his life is in danger.”

“Please, Stacey. Let me fix this. I owe you.”

“You owe Brian, not me. Clear his name. I need him to help me run the business. That’s all I want.”

“That won’t be easy. Lizzie should have gone to Pa to solve her problem, not Animal. Pa won’t rest until Lizzie comes home.”

“Even if she doesn’t want to?”

Troy glanced away. “No one leaves the Slayers unless it’s in a box.”

“But women aren’t members,” she said. “Right? I’ve always heard motorcycle clubs are chauvinistic organizations that women would do well to steer clear of.”

Troy shrugged. A common perception. “Maybe. But Lizzie was born into the life. Pa and the brothers won’t accept her leaving.”

An uneasy frown settled on Stacey’s brow. “Why do I get the feeling this involves me in some way?”

“You’re the only link to Lizzie, via your brother.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I need to convince the men you don’t know anything. Or they’ll be paying you a visit. And it won’t be pleasant.”

She shuddered. “Then you’d better do that. Jeez. No wonder your sister wanted to get away. Your culture is hideous.” She gave him one last look of disgust and turned to go inside.

He grabbed her arm. There was one last thing he wanted to get cleared up.

She tried to jerk out of his grip. He tightened it.

“Stacey?”

“What?”

“We had unprotected sex.”

She tried to pull away from him. “What are you trying to say? Should I get an STD test?”

Stung, he dropped his hand from her arm. “Are you on the pill?”

“I’ll be fine. I won’t make it your problem.” She moved inside and shut the front door on his face.

He knew he deserved that. So, why did it hurt like fuck?