Read Online Lock and Key by Cat Porter - Free Book Online Page B

Vig’s tight grasp. My eyes darted up and found Dig’s. The lines of his face were hard; a muscle in his jaw pulsed. He handed off my tequila bottle to a livid Boner and got in Vig’s face.
    “She ain’t house pussy,” Dig said. “Now let her go.”
    “Why should I? She’s here ain’t she? Why do you give a shit? You’ve had your dick up in plenty of bitches for days. What the fuck you playing at?” Vig twisted me in his arms once more. “I just saw some cunt blowing you.”
    Oh, too much information.
    My stomach flipped over as images of Dig getting hot and nasty with lots of different women flitted through my fevered brain. But I was in the lethal clutches of a Demon Seed who didn’t like my sister, for crap’s sake, and I really had no time to indulge in jealous fantasies.
    Jealous? Of Dig and other women?
    Revolted maybe. Jealous no way.
    Dig and I had actually spent some time together over the past months while waiting for Ruby’s trial to come up. He had been as good as his word about looking out for me. He and Boner and a few of their brothers regularly came to Pete’s and played pool and had drinks. I knew they were there to check up on me, as he had never come in so frequently before. Dig would show up every time, the others rotated. I hated it at first. Then I began to like it.
    At first he would nod at me, or give me the badass chin jerk, which frankly made my knees wobble almost every time. The guys wouldn’t let the other waitress, Mandy, take their drink orders. Her eyes shot daggers at me, and she mouthed “bitch” across the bar at me the first time that happened. It got to the point where Pete made sure that my section always included the Club’s ever-reserved set of tables.
    Throughout the evening Dig and I would exchange sassy comments. He’d flash me his wicked grin, and I would roll my eyes and shake my head at him. My insides melted at each and every exchange, but I worked hard to ignore that phenomenon which only increased in regularity. I was Little Sister, after all, not biker girlfriend bitch material. He was just being sweet and flirty.
    Right?
    One night Trey had shown up at Pete’s with his pals and grabbed my arm and pulled at me to sit in his lap, and the shots lined up on my tray went flying. Dig and Boner were on him in a flash. Boner had pulled me out of Trey’s grasp as Dig yanked Trey out of his chair and popped him in the face. Blood had gushed over his shirt and hands. Most everyone in the bar clapped. Trey and his pals stumbled out of Pete’s.
    Dig had turned to me, his eyes grim. He had run his bloody knuckles down my cheek, leaving behind a smear of blood that he then rubbed off with his thumb. He planted a kiss on my forehead, returned to his table and sat back down with his brothers as if nothing had happened. Trey never came around Pete’s again.
    Inevitably, all sorts of women would hover over the bikers’ table, sit in their laps or at least try to, and they’d eventually leave together. Even Mandy would leave with them once in a while. But no matter how his evening ended, Dig would always find me in the crowd and flick his hand at me in goodbye.
    At home very late at night or in the wee hours of the morning I would sometimes hear the roar of pipes down the street or the rev of a bike’s engine that was springing back to life. I would smile into my pillow in my bedroom in my empty house.
    One afternoon I had bumped into Boner at the supermarket. He took my arm in his and said he was going to help me shop. He yapped on and on about crazy shit that made me laugh, but it got to the point where I couldn’t keep track of what I was looking for on the shelves. Then he surfed through the aisles on my shopping cart and narrowly missed several elderly ladies. We must have been in there for almost two hours.
    I invited him home for dinner, and he called Dig. I cooked them chicken cutlets with homemade mac and cheese and a huge spinach salad. Dig brought the