Grasping For Freedom (4 page)

"Sorry. I didn't know anyone was in here." Brandy raked her teeth over her bottom lip. "I'll come back."

"Brandy," Rain said, stopping her from going anywhere. "Stay."

Torque moved toward the door to go past Brandy, and Rain said. "Torque, stick around."

He clamped his teeth and stayed planted beside Brandy. He hated how he wanted to lift his chin at Rain and accept anything he asked if only to stay in Brandy's presence. She was a baby compared to him. Hell, he had nineteen years on her. He'd already fucked up his life before she was even born.

"Torque mentioned there was talk going around the bar, by some Bantorus members, about you." Rain lowered his voice. "I promised you safety here, and every one of the men will be held to the same promise not to bother you. Talk is talk, and as long as it remains talk, you're going to have to deal with it."

Brandy's chin lifted. "I have no complaints."

Enough pussyfooting around the truth, Torque wanted her to know how serious the men were on making her a bitch. "They're taking bets on who will get in your panties first."

Brandy gaze came to him and she blinked up at him. "That almost sounds as if everyone assumes I wear panties."

Rain laughed, breaking the tension in the room. "Then that's settled."

"Awesome." Brandy grinned. "I came in here to ask if you knew anyone who could take a look at my car. I know you own the garage, but I don't want to make an appointment and waste anyone's time if this turns out to be nothing. I just bought the car two weeks before I moved here to take the job, so maybe the noise coming from the front is normal. There's a knocking...sort of tinny sound when I push the pedal."

Rain nodded. "I'll run it over to the garage—"

"I'll take a look at it." Torque stepped forward. "It's probably something I can fix in the parking lot."

"Right." Rain motioned to the door, gazing at Brandy. "Take an hour off and show Torque what's going on with your cage. I'll cover the bar."

"But I've already taken my lunch break." Brandy pressed her hand against her stomach. "I should stay here and—"

"Come on. Clock's ticking." Torque placed his hand flat on her lower back and guided her out of the room, down the hall, and out the back door. "Which one's yours?"

She frowned at him, but pointed at the far edge of the lot. "The black Cadillac."

"Figures," he muttered, dropping his hand and walking in front of her.

"What's that mean?" She hurried to catch up with him. "It's a decent car."

"Sure it is," he said. "But no single girl drives a cage like that."

The black glossy paint and lift couldn't hide the fact that the car was two years old at most. He walked around the front bumper, trailing his hand across the hood, pausing where the hood ornament was missing. His fingers rolled into his palms and he scanned the area for anything out of the ordinary. There was only one reason why someone would take off a Cadillac's hood ornament.

"Where did you buy the car?" he asked.

"Um. I got it when I lived in Cali...Wayne's Car Emporium, I think." She leaned her hip against the fender. "Why? Is something wrong? I'm still making payments and I swear, since I arrived in Pitnam something feels
off
with the car. I hope I didn't buy a lemon."

He watched her for any little movement or hesitation, but she simply waited for him to continue. What were the odds that Brandy had no idea why the sight of the caddy had him breaking out in a sweat?

He forced his teeth apart to continue. "It's a drug runner."

"What do you mean?" She stepped closer.

He slipped off his vest, folded the leather in half, and set it on the hood of her car. "Whoever owned the Cadillac before you had gang affiliation. What part of the state did you come from?"

"California. South Beach area." She frowned. "That's creepy, but the car lot I bought it at was legit. It's my car now, or will be when I'm done paying for it."

He kneeled down and rolled onto his back. Scooting his way under the car, he skipped the usual areas to look for problems with knocking, and checked the underside carriage for a tracker. When he was sure the car was clean, he rolled out from underneath and stood. "You land in Bantorus territory driving a car I'd bet my bike came from a member of Los Li, dressed like a bitch, getting in my face, and stand there all innocent. Why don't you come clean now? If you're lucky Rain will let you leave the territory in your shiny car."

"What are you talking about?" She pushed his chest, trying to scoot him away from her. "Why are you crowding me?"

Until she laid her hands on him, he hadn't realized he'd stepped up against her, pinning her to the car. He gazed down in her eyes. "You dress hotter than dual chrome plated exhaust pipes, shoving your nose in the air and yet stand here defending your choice of a new car. I don't know how you got past Rain, but your gigs over."

Her brows pinched. "What are you accusing me of? Buying a used car? Needing a job?"

Her bottom lip trembled and tears welled in her eyes, though she blinked to hide them. He cupped her neck, holding her in front of him. The soft strands of her hair slid between his fingers. He inhaled deeply. She smelled better than whiskey.

"Stop the charade." He leaned his lower half against her. "Someone got you the job, and I want to know who."

"N-nobody." Her breath tickled his lips. "I went through an agency. Ask Rain if you don't believe me."

He brushed his mouth against hers. "Boyfriend?"

"No," she whispered, arching her neck and giving him access to her lips.

His free hand went to her ass, pulling her snug between his thighs. "Bitch?"

"No," she said on an exhale. "I'm nobody's bitch."

"Good answer, sunshine." He captured her lips.

Unlike the other night when he'd taken the kiss from her, he softened his lips, taking possession of her emotions he'd placed on her. He soothed the trembles, tasted the fear, and breathed the heat forming between them. He celebrated in her hesitation, proving she was telling the truth. He controlled every move, and she gave herself to him willingly.

He stroked her tongue, sucking hers into his mouth. His cock hardened and he held her perfectly molded against him. Her body relaxed, and he took her weight. Holding her was like having power over his fears, his worries, his freedom. The closer she came, the more confident he became. He could handle her, handle the feelings, and handle the consequences of messing around with her.

She sucked his bottom lip, pulling away gently, panting. He tilted her head and looked down in her eyes, swept away from the startling clarity staring back at him.

"I don't know what you're trying to do with me," she said.

He inhaled, not letting her go. "If you were smart, you'd run back into the bar."

"And if I don't want to?" she whispered.

He kissed her lightly, still reeling from wanting her and knowing he had to be the one who put a stop to what they were doing. "Choice isn't yours."

The need to stay where he was and continue to enjoy the touch of a woman left him shaky. He forced himself to let go and step back. "You have the keys with you?"

"The what?" She put her hand to her mouth.

"The keys to the car, sunshine." He grinned, enjoying her aroused confused and knowing he was the one who put her in that condition.

She pulled a single key with a red ribbon out of her pocket. "Yeah."

He took the makeshift keychain from her and opened the door. "I'll drive it around the block and listen for the noise. Go ahead and go inside. I might need to take it onto I-5 and get the engine temperature hotter to hear the knocking."

"Okay." She nodded, but continued standing there. After several seconds, she said, "Torque?"

"Yeah?" He brought his attention back around to her.

She worked her hands in worry. "Nevermind. It's not important."

She walked away. He watched her long strides take her inside the bar. When he was alone, he punched the steering wheel. He might not know what he was doing in the next hour when it came to Brandy, but he sure in the hell knew he wasn't going to let any other man touch her. She gave him everything in a kiss, and he was damned well going to make sure she only gave that to him

.

He started the car. There was only one way to get her out of his head. He'd show her what kind of trouble she'd get into if she stuck around. The way she reacted to their kiss, he'd be between her legs in no time and she'd run away scared. He'd finally be free of his problem where Brandy was concerned.

B
randy pressed her back against the wall in the hallway after leaving Torque outside with her car and thrust both hands into her hair, holding her head. What was she doing?

Oh my God.

Torque knew she was driving a Los Li car. He'd taken one look and called her out. Lies rolled off her tongue faster than she could stop them, and if she went by the kiss Torque gave her, he believed every messed up thing she said.

Radiant had to have known someone from Bantorus would question her about the car. Why would he set her up that way if he wanted her to gain information?

She fisted her hair, wanting to scream.

Then Torque had kissed her. Again.

Petrified she'd give herself away, she kissed him back. She closed her eyes and groaned. God, she was a liar. She wanted to kiss him, but that made her the very thing he accused her of being. She was not a bitch.

She'd had a few dates, but most of her experience came from a handful of one-night stands when she managed to go out after work. Five one-night stands to be exact. Not a number that made her a habitual slut. Lately, she couldn't even find time for herself.

"Hey." Bruce walked out of the supply room. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." She dropped her hands and gave him a smile bordering on a grimace. "No. It's my car. Torque's looking at it, but I'm having buyer's remorse. I think I bought a piece of crap. So much for purchasing on looks alone."

Bruce shrugged her concern away. "If Torque's working on it, he'll have the cage up and running in no time. He's good with anything that has an engine."

She only had a uterus and ovaries, but he definitely had a way to get things running. She pushed off the wall. "You're right. I'm not going to worry about it. When I get the final diagnoses, then I'll worry."

She and Bruce walked back to the bar together. The dinner crowd slowly trickled in. She busied herself taking inventory of glasses and the contents of the freezer. Last night she also noticed that Bruce was doing double time running the industrial size dishwasher in the back of the kitchen, which took valuable time away from customers ordering drinks.

When she finished averaging the usage of dishes with the quantity of food going out, she approached Ginger. "Can I speak with you a moment?"

"Yeah." Ginger slipped her pen in the pocket of her cutoffs.

"I'd like you and Taylor to switch on and off taking the bins of glasses to the dishwasher and loading everything. I'll cover your tables while you're gone," Brandy said.

"You're kidding?" Ginger planted her hand on her hip. "That's crazy."

Brandy shook her head. "No, it's one task that pulls Bruce away from the counter. We don't want to make the customers wait for their drinks. It'd be easier if the wait crew divided the job, since there's only one bartender here at a time we'll take turns with the chore."

Ginger motioned over Brandy's shoulder. "Tell this chick I'm not doing the dishes."

Laughter came from behind her. Brandy turned around and found two bikers—Jedman and Pete shaking their head in amusement. She turned back to Ginger and lowered her voice. "When I'm talking to you, it's a private conversation. My request wasn't unreasonable, and in your job description papers you signed—which I've read front to back—any duties directed toward the waitresses will be directed by the managerial staff. That's me."

"Listen here,
Brandy
." Ginger glared. "You want me to do something, you ask Rain to inform me. Not you."

"Is there a problem with taking requests from me?" She raised her brows to make a point. "I'd be happy to have us both sit down with Rain and discuss the matter in a professional manner."

Ginger's nostrils flared. "I'll save you the trouble—she called out to Rain and motioned for him—just ask Rain yourself."

Rain stepped up beside Brandy. "Ginger...?"

"Tell her, I don't do dishes." Ginger folded her arms under her breasts.

Rain glanced between Brandy and Ginger. "Brandy, the girls had an agreement worked out with Gladys that they wouldn't work in the kitchen. You can honor the standing verbal terms or make your own. That's why I hired you."

"Rain," Ginger said. "You can't let her push us around."

"She's the manager." He turned around, putting the authority back in Brandy's hands.

Ginger sighed loudly and remained quiet. Brandy watched Rain walk away, leaving her to decide whether she wanted to push her idea or back down. She'd worked too many years with girls exactly like Ginger who learned how to manipulate to get what they wanted. Strong, independent girls who had learned to endure from a young age. Servers used everything they had to put money in their pocket and keep a roof over their heads. She wasn't any different.

She'd scraped to support herself and her dad running their bar and fought for every right that came her way out of responsibility and survival. Ginger wasn't going to give up easily.

Ginger set her chin at a high angle and waited her out. Brandy gave nothing away. "I like what Gladys has done and how she combined work ethics with a personal connection with the working staff, but there's room for improvement. I understand you've gone from a four-waitperson team down to two. Both you and Taylor are putting in double shifts while Rain interviews for one more full time employee and a couple of part timers."

"No one is complaining about the double shift," Ginger stated.

She nodded. "Not yet, but there's ways we can improve. Bruce can't be taking the time to take the bins back to the kitchen, loading and unloading the dishwasher. The extra job pulls him away from the customers, which leaves more people at the tables waiting for service. That means—"