because she preferred
Tanner himself.
He let it pass. “I’m Nash. I’m the
President of this MC. You know what that means?”
“You’re the boss?” she guessed.
He nodded. “And I know every last
damn thing that goes on here. I make the rules. I make the decisions. So you’d
better tell me straight—how much shit are you in?”
Beth swallowed, butterflies filling
her stomach. All her earlier conviction was draining away under his steely
gaze. “I don’t want to cause any trouble for you,” she said.
“I’m sure you don’t. But you’re
causing it anyway. So I’m asking , how much shit are
you in? This cult of yours, what are they into? They got guns? Political connections?”
“No, nothing like
that.” Beth hugged herself.
“At least, I’ve never seen any guns. And Abram thinks the government is a tool
of Satan.”
Nash laughed. “I bet he fucking does. Can’t say I disagree.”
“But he can be physically violent,”
she said, realizing how stupid that probably sounded to a man the size of Nash.
“And the snakes …” Her throat tightened. They’d all seen the test of faith in
action. Abram kept antivenin in his rooms, but sometimes … Sometimes he didn’t
fetch it in time. Sometimes, she thought, he chose not to. There were graves in
the churchyard, unmarked graves for the sinners who hadn’t been pure or
faithful enough to please God, the snakes, or Abram.
She would be subjected to the test
if he caught her. Probably after she’d been beaten black and blue. By then, she
might almost wish to find the coral snake in her hands.
“The snakes?” Nash prompted when she fell silent, caught in
dread.
She was about to explain when she
felt warm hands on her shoulders. She jumped and then recognized Tanner’s
leather-and-musk scent. Her whole body both relaxed and tensed. His presence
meant safety but it triggered arousal, and she didn’t know what to do with the
feelings he created.
“This asshole
bothering you, Beth?” Tanner asked. His tone was light but his hands were possessive, and she could
feel the heat of his body, the hard muscles of his chest, and the tension
there. Beth had no doubt that in that moment he saw Nash as a potential threat
to her, just for being near her. The idea was oddly thrilling.
Nash cocked at eyebrow at him.
“This asshole says don’t let your mouth write a check your ass can’t cash, son.
Beth and me were just getting acquainted, so put your
hackles away.”
“I kinda wanted to talk to her myself,” Tanner said, easing his grip on her a little.
“Go ahead,” Nash said.
“In private.”
Nash gestured at the wide open
fields surrounding the mill. “Then take a walk.”
Tanner muttered something under his
breath that Beth didn’t quite catch, but sensed was uncomplimentary. “Beth, you wanna take a walk with me?”
She did. She nodded politely to
Nash, who went back to work on his bike without another word.
“ Wanna go
for a ride?” Tanner asked her, nodding at his bike.
Beth slipped on behind him with a
shiver of pleasure as she wrapped her arms round him. She flattened her palms
against his chest, feeling hard muscle under his worn T-shirt and she allowed
herself the brief fantasy of running her fingertips along his bare skin.
But he hadn’t wanted her last night
so why let herself dream? She couldn’t stay and he seemed not to want her to
anyway.
He revved the engine and they shot
away from the mill. He didn’t ride as fast as they had yesterday, through the
storm, but it was still thrilling. The power of the bike beneath her coupling
perfectly with the strength of the man in front of her … and more than that,
the sense of freedom was intoxicating. She wanted a bike, she decided then. She
wanted to know that from now on, she could go wherever she wanted, whenever she
wanted.
He rode to a house on the outskirts
of the town, a single-story house with a wrap-around porch and a small but
beautiful garden. There was an ancient
Tanner himself.
He let it pass. “I’m Nash. I’m the
President of this MC. You know what that means?”
“You’re the boss?” she guessed.
He nodded. “And I know every last
damn thing that goes on here. I make the rules. I make the decisions. So you’d
better tell me straight—how much shit are you in?”
Beth swallowed, butterflies filling
her stomach. All her earlier conviction was draining away under his steely
gaze. “I don’t want to cause any trouble for you,” she said.
“I’m sure you don’t. But you’re
causing it anyway. So I’m asking , how much shit are
you in? This cult of yours, what are they into? They got guns? Political connections?”
“No, nothing like
that.” Beth hugged herself.
“At least, I’ve never seen any guns. And Abram thinks the government is a tool
of Satan.”
Nash laughed. “I bet he fucking does. Can’t say I disagree.”
“But he can be physically violent,”
she said, realizing how stupid that probably sounded to a man the size of Nash.
“And the snakes …” Her throat tightened. They’d all seen the test of faith in
action. Abram kept antivenin in his rooms, but sometimes … Sometimes he didn’t
fetch it in time. Sometimes, she thought, he chose not to. There were graves in
the churchyard, unmarked graves for the sinners who hadn’t been pure or
faithful enough to please God, the snakes, or Abram.
She would be subjected to the test
if he caught her. Probably after she’d been beaten black and blue. By then, she
might almost wish to find the coral snake in her hands.
“The snakes?” Nash prompted when she fell silent, caught in
dread.
She was about to explain when she
felt warm hands on her shoulders. She jumped and then recognized Tanner’s
leather-and-musk scent. Her whole body both relaxed and tensed. His presence
meant safety but it triggered arousal, and she didn’t know what to do with the
feelings he created.
“This asshole
bothering you, Beth?” Tanner asked. His tone was light but his hands were possessive, and she could
feel the heat of his body, the hard muscles of his chest, and the tension
there. Beth had no doubt that in that moment he saw Nash as a potential threat
to her, just for being near her. The idea was oddly thrilling.
Nash cocked at eyebrow at him.
“This asshole says don’t let your mouth write a check your ass can’t cash, son.
Beth and me were just getting acquainted, so put your
hackles away.”
“I kinda wanted to talk to her myself,” Tanner said, easing his grip on her a little.
“Go ahead,” Nash said.
“In private.”
Nash gestured at the wide open
fields surrounding the mill. “Then take a walk.”
Tanner muttered something under his
breath that Beth didn’t quite catch, but sensed was uncomplimentary. “Beth, you wanna take a walk with me?”
She did. She nodded politely to
Nash, who went back to work on his bike without another word.
“ Wanna go
for a ride?” Tanner asked her, nodding at his bike.
Beth slipped on behind him with a
shiver of pleasure as she wrapped her arms round him. She flattened her palms
against his chest, feeling hard muscle under his worn T-shirt and she allowed
herself the brief fantasy of running her fingertips along his bare skin.
But he hadn’t wanted her last night
so why let herself dream? She couldn’t stay and he seemed not to want her to
anyway.
He revved the engine and they shot
away from the mill. He didn’t ride as fast as they had yesterday, through the
storm, but it was still thrilling. The power of the bike beneath her coupling
perfectly with the strength of the man in front of her … and more than that,
the sense of freedom was intoxicating. She wanted a bike, she decided then. She
wanted to know that from now on, she could go wherever she wanted, whenever she
wanted.
He rode to a house on the outskirts
of the town, a single-story house with a wrap-around porch and a small but
beautiful garden. There was an ancient
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