Train's Clash (The Last Riders Book 9) (15 page)

S
asha’s
dejected expression vanished the second an attractive police officer opened the green door, allowing her to leave the jail behind. Then a shrill scream could be heard in the air when she caught sight of the large group of the men who had been waiting for her, now walking toward her, which prompted a blossoming wide smile out of her.

“Train!” Sasha jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist as he lifted her into his arms, twirling the excited woman around in a circle before he passed her over to Rider, who gave her the same excessive greeting.

Moon took his turn next, planting a kiss on her mouth as she hurled herself into his arms. When it was Razer’s turn, he set her down after he caught her, giving her a tamer hug. Viper’s casual hug ended with him turning her toward the motorcycles. All of the men were smiling as they got on their bikes.

Sasha practically skipped to Train’s bike when Viper dropped his arm from her. Using Train’s shoulder to balance herself, she climbed behind him and snuggled close, wrapping her arms around him as they drove out of the parking garage. Train’s bike was swallowed up by The Last Riders who protectively surrounded them.

Killyama forced her eyes down to the cell she was holding. After a series of swipes on her screen, she walked down the ramp to the garage below, alighting the sidewalk outside the police station.

The taxi she had requested took fifteen minutes to arrive. Giving the driver the address, Killyama buckled her seat belt as he darted into the morning traffic. She had the cash ready, paying when the cab arrived at the hotel. She knew she had been busted before the driver could count his money and leave.

Hammer was angrily throwing his suitcase in the back of the Escalade. Jonas lifted his and her cases into the trunk, showing more restraint, but the infuriated glance he gave her as he closed the truck showed he was just as upset.

“You were supposed to get something to eat then rest until we got back from filling your prescriptions. Do I need to hire an interpreter so you can understand me?” Hammer asked snidely as soon as she was within earshot.

“I was tired of waiting and decided to go get my own food.” Killyama took her usual spot in the back seat as Hammer programmed their trip into the GPS.

“You need to take the medicine. There’s a drink in the bag.” Jonas handed her the bag that was sitting on the console next to him. From the aroma, there was food inside it, too. When she reached for the medicine bottles, Jonas watched as she took the pills before he turned back around. “You’ll get nauseous taking them on an empty stomach. Eat.”

She pulled out the wrapped biscuit, squirting a dollop of honey from the packet Jonas always remembered to get for her. She had no intention of antagonizing the men further. And she hadn’t missed their looks of concern when she had gotten out of the taxi.

The men’s stubborn silence lasted until after they hit the interstate. When she finished eating, she used a pack of wipes to clean her sticky fingers.

“I was thinking …” Killyama’s raspy voice had Hammer turning down the music so they could hear her. “We should find an apartment in Lexington. It makes more sense to live there instead of Jamestown. It doesn’t take long to drive to Tennessee, but the drive to Ohio is further. It will make it easier going back and forth between the two. Or we can just say fuck it and stop working in Ohio, concentrating only on jobs in Tennessee. What do you think?”

“Why not just focus on Ohio?” Jonas asked.

“That way, I can see the gang when I get a day off.”

“What about your mom?”

“I’ll get her an apartment, too. Her place is falling down around her. When she sees I’m serious about moving, she won’t argue too much.”

“If you’re sure, I’ll start hunting for a place,” Hammer said. “It’ll take time. We have to finish a couple of jobs in Ohio. Then it won’t be easy to find three places that will make us all happy.”

“It shouldn’t take that long. The jobs in Ohio—”

“We’re going to wait until you’re back in shape.” From Hammer’s tone, Killyama knew it would be useless to argue with him.

“Fine.”

“Jonas, record this conversation on your cell phone.”

Jonas’s expression began to thaw. “Why?”

“Because she’s finally agreeing to something I told her we should do three years ago.”

Killyama rolled her eyes. “Turn the music back up. I don’t want to hear you gloat all the way home.” When she heard what came on over the radio, she said, “Change the song.” The melancholy music of “Ruin Me” was abruptly switched to “Love is a Battlefield.”

“That better?”

“No, but it’s better than your country shit.”

She slept until Hammer woke her by lifting her out and carrying her up the flight of steps to her apartment. Groggily, she tried to protest.

“I can walk.”

Hammer stared down at her in concern as Jonas unlocked her door.

She lowered her lashes. “I’m okay, Hammer.”

His tenderness wasn’t exhibited often, but when it was, it was hard for her to deal with it. It was the same way with Jonas.

Hammer lay her down on her bed, nearly tripping over the vicious cat that swiped at him from under the bed.

“I’ll pay for you to get that cat declawed,” he offered as the cat came out of her hiding spot to jump on her bed.

“He’s my burglar alarm. If anyone breaks in, all I have to do is search the hospitals for anyone who needs a rabies shot.”

“If I don’t kill it first.” Hammer sat down on the side of her bed, using a pillow to swat the cat away.

Jonas came inside, carrying her suitcase and setting it by her door. Placing her medications on her nightstand, he left, and then came back with a bottled water. “There. You should be good for a while.”

“You have your cell phone?”

Killyama wiggled her cell phone in Hammer’s face.

“Call if you need anything. Want me to stop by tonight and bring you some dinner?”

“No. If I need you, I’ll call. And no, I don’t need a blanket.”

Jonas dropped the blanket he had picked up from the bottom of her bed.

“Go get a beer, get laid, or better yet, do both. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”

The men finally left her in the peace of her apartment.

Seeing she was alone, Gollum lost his haughty attitude, rubbing against her and purring before rolling into Killyama’s side and curling up against her waist.

“You miss me?”

The purring response had Killyama lovingly stroking the sleek fur.

“I bought you a new toy. I’ll get it for you when we wake up.”

She was about to drift off when Gollum jumped off her. The cat only acted that way when he sensed someone was at the apartment door. Thinking it was one of her neighbors, she expected him to come back or to hear a knock at her door. When neither happened, Killyama got out of bed, seeing the cat’s eyes glinting from under the couch.

She went to her door and opened it. Confused at seeing no one on the landing, she looked down, finding a long box.

Locking the door behind her, she carried it inside, setting it on the counter. After removing one of the knives from the butcher block, she cut the ribbon on the box, opened it, and found herself staring down at two dozen red roses.

Picking one up, she held the fragile flower as she searched for a large tumbler in her kitchen cabinet. The blue tumbler nearly toppled over after she filled it with water and the flowers.

Gollum jumped on the counter to sniff the flowers, nearly sending them falling again. Killyama lifted the troublesome cat off the counter.

“I should call Jonas and tell him, the next time he sends me flowers, to buy me a vase, too,” she complained out loud, knowing she wouldn’t even mention the flowers to him, afraid she would hurt the sensitive man’s feelings if she didn’t get mushy. Letting the men be nice to her this past week was as much as she could take before busting some heads.

After digging out the catnip toys she had bought from her suitcase, she watched a movie before scooping her cat up to go to bed.

About to turn out the light, she paused, fear momentarily overriding her. She would be damned if she let Kane into her dreams. Like all monsters, they only hurt you if you let them.

Her hand went to her throat. The bruising on her neck would eventually go away, and so would the memory of him staring down at her with bloodlust in his eyes.

Turning off the light, she let herself be lulled to sleep by the purring by her head, unaware that the cat wasn’t the only one watching over her.

* * *

M
oon lit
a cigarette before offering one to Train.

Train shook his head. “No, thanks. I quit.” He had only occasionally smoked, and usually only when one of the brothers had offered him one.

Moon peered at him through the smoky haze of his exhale. “Go get some sleep. I’ll stay here until you get back.”

He nodded. “Archer is watching the back. I’ll be back in the morning.” Train hated to leave, but he had some business to take care of with Shade.

“I’ve got it covered. Enjoy yourself and get some sleep.”

“I will.” Train grimly kicked up his kickstand. Seven members were waiting for their own share of the fun, all eight original members must be present for the Last Riders to serve their own brand of justice.

His bike sped down the winding roads toward Treepoint, its headlight guiding his way as lightning streaked across the sky. Knowing the road like the back of his hand, Train seamlessly rode, determined to beat the storm.

Gliding over the pavement at breakneck speeds like a thunderbolt waiting to strike, at the journey’s end, the damage wrought would claim a victim.

“
W
hich color
?” Killyama held up the two fingernail polishes for Star to choose from.

Sex Piston’s youngest stepdaughter had her little mouth pursed as she debated which one to pick. “Why can’t I have that one?” Star pointed at the deep red that Killyama had used to paint Fat Louise’s nails earlier.

“What’s wrong with these?” Killyama tried to steer her toward the more subdued colors.

“They aren’t as pretty.”

“Your daddy will like these.” She wiggled the two polishes enticingly. “He’ll yell at me if I paint your toenails that shade of red.”

“Is he going to yell at Fat Louise?” The soft-hearted little girl looked worried.

“Yes,” Killyama lied unrepentantly. Sometimes with kids, you had to put the fear of God into them. If not God, then Stud was a good second for one who worshiped him. “That’s why she left before your daddy comes home.”

“The pink.”

“I like the pink, too.” Killyama shook the bottle as she reached for Star’s foot. The little girl began falling to the floor, catching herself. When she kept tickling her unmercifully, Star’s giggles had Killyama laughing with her as they rolled on the floor.

“Do I need to send you girls to time out?”

Killyama quickly sat up at the sound of Stud’s voice. She tugged her top back down that had inched up during the skirmish, turning toward the door and projecting the patronizing attitude she always wore unless her guard was down.

The sight of Stud and Train standing in the doorway had her nearly exposing the shock of seeing The Last Rider in Stud’s family room. She had avoided him during the holidays by refusing Beth’s and Lily’s invitations to celebrate with them, saying she was too busy with work. Since then, she had been glad they lived in different counties so she hadn’t run into him when she was around town.

“What’s he doing here?” That wasn’t the choice of words she wanted to use, but the little girl’s presence had her filtering her words.

The corner of Train’s mouth quirked up.

“I invited him to lunch, if that’s okay with you?” Stud’s expression showed he didn’t care if it was or wasn’t. “We’re taking a break from designing the new bike Train ordered.”

“Did you include the price of lunch in the quote for the bike? If not, there’s a McDonald’s ten miles away.”

“Yes.”

Damn, the bastard used her own trick against her. She would have to warn Sex Piston he could lie as easily as she could.

“Where’s Sex Piston?” Stud asked.

“In the kitchen.”

“Take a seat, Train. I’ll go tell her you’re eating with us.”

If the fucker expected to get a nicer response from his wife, he was going to be disappointed.

“Ready, Star?” Killyama turned back to the little girl.

Obediently, the child sat down on the floor, holding her foot out. Killyama sat cross-legged as she opened the nail polish. She delicately proceeded to brush the pink polish on the nail beds, trying to hold her hand steady as Train made himself comfortable on the couch.

She felt his eyes taking her in, going from the bright red polish on her toes to her black shorts, and then raising his eyes to her black and white tie-dyed shirt. She almost touched the skull and crossbones bandana at her throat. Forcing the new habit back, she made herself keep painting Star’s nails nonchalantly, as if his presence in the room didn’t bother her.

“You’re looking good.”

“You talking to me?” she asked snidely.

“Yes.”

She scoffed. “I always look good.”

“Yes, you do.” Appreciation glowed in his eyes. “You’re a beautiful woman. It would be hard for you not to see that when you look a mirror.”

“Dude, save your compliments for the w-h-o-r-e-s.” Conscious of the little girl listening, she spelled out the word.

“You want to go for a ride?”

“Viper cool with that?” Killyama set the foot she was working on down, reaching for Star’s other foot.

“Viper doesn’t tell me who to spend my time with when I’m not working. I’m off for the rest of the day.” He paused. “There’s a movie showing at the park. We could take a blanket and watch it.”

“I’m busy. Ask … Jewell.” She had almost mentioned Sasha but managed to stop herself from revealing that she knew the woman was out of jail.

“I’m asking you. If you don’t want to, I can hang out here with you. Or we could go to the Destructors’ clubhouse.”

Killyama set Star’s foot down, telling the girl, “Go see what is taking your mom so long?”

“It’ll ruin my polish!”

“If it does, I’ll fix it before I leave.”

“Promise?”

“I said so,” Killyama said calmly, not wanting to take her frustration out on the child.

As soon as Star was out of earshot, Killyama lithely stood then advanced toward Train. “Since when do you want to take me riding? The only sucker in this room is you. If you want payback, take your best shot. If not, then get the fuck out of here.”

Before she could blink, Train dragged her down to his lap. When she would have punched him, he twisted her hands behind her back with one of his.

She fiercely tried to struggle out of his hold. Using her legs—the only part of her body she could still use—she attempted to throw herself off the couch. However, Train circumvented her move by using one of his long legs to pin her down.

She reared her head back when he lowered his to hers. At first, she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he stared deeply into her eyes. Unlike her, Train was eerily calm.

Seeing she wasn’t going anywhere until he was ready to let her go, or she yelled for help, which she refused to do, Killyama settled down on his lap.

“That’s better.” Train stroked his thumb over her collarbone, just beneath the bandana.

“Don’t touch me!” she hissed.

Train moved his hand to her waist, her abdomen quivering under his touch.

Remaining quiet, she hoped he would go as soon as he said what he apparently wanted to say.

“I do want to pay you back, but not the way you’re thinking. I want to pay you back for the last night we were together.” Train brushed his lips over the corner of hers. “You can’t fuck a man like that and not expect him to come back for more. It’s been two months since I felt you under me.”

“I would think the only thing you’d remember about that day was Sasha.”

“I was angry, but I’m over it. It actually worked out for the best. Shade found a way to fix Sasha’s problem, and Moon’s, too. You actually did us a big favor. If you hadn’t forced our hand, Sasha would still be hiding out. Now she can do anything she wants—stay in Ohio or Treepoint.”

“She didn’t get jail time?” Killyama pretended not to know.

“No.” Train travelled his mouth to her jaw before slipping down to her neck. When his lips would have nuzzled the bandana, she used her forehead to move his head away. The mark on her neck was barely noticeable, but she kept it covered so Sex Piston wouldn’t ask questions.

His eyes crinkled in amusement as she carefully watched his reaction, trying to ascertain whether he knew she was lying or not. Other than humor at her situation, she didn’t see any tells. He could be deceiving her, though, but why would he? Shade had given his word not to tell The Last Riders she had helped Sasha out of jail.

Payback is the only reason he’s here
, she told herself, despite his denial.

Train must have seen the distrust in her eyes.

“I’ll tell you what. Spend another night with me, and we can call it even.”

“I’m done making deals with The Last Riders.”

“Not even one more?” He inched his hand up higher to cover her breast, searching for the nipple that was aching for his touch.

Her mind kept switching sides. One part of her wanted him so badly it was worse than the addiction she’d had when she quit smoking. The other part of her could imagine him standing over her dead body, using his boots to grind her into the dust.

“I don’t do one-nighters anymore.”

He raised his head up at that. “Why not?”

Fucker thought he was going to get his something-something from her again. That wasn’t happening.

“I decided I deserve more than leftovers.”

“You’re going to get married before having sex again?” The horrified look on his face had her smiling.

She almost lied, but she had no intention of cutting off her nose to spite her face.

“Hell no. I’m never getting married.”

“What’s wrong with marriage?”

“Husbands fuck around on wives.”

“Not all the time.”

“Most of the time. A woman who kills a man who cheats on her gets a lighter sentence if she’s not married to the fucker.”

Train’s mouth dropped open. “You’ve looked up the statistics?”

She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t have to.” He thought she was being ridiculous. “Wives get charged with first-degree murder. Girlfriends get charged with involuntary manslaughter. I want to get out of prison when I can take a piss without using a bedpan.”

He released her hands, laughing so hard she had to put a hand over his mouth.

“Sh … Sex Piston will—”

Star came jumping into the room with her mother and father behind her.

Killyama clambered off of Train’s lap, giving him a scowl as she righted her clothes.

“Were you tickling Train, too?” Star asked innocently.

“Yes. I was trying to find his funny bone. Lunch ready?” Killyama tried to delay the inevitable questions Sex Piston would ask, not caring that Killyama wouldn’t want to answer in front of Train or Star. Her friend couldn’t care less if she was embarrassed or offended.

“Did you find it?” Star giggled, taking her hand and skipping by her side as they went into the dining room.

Rocky, Sex Piston and Stud’s son, was already sitting at the table, eating a grilled cheese sandwich. Sitting down next to her brother, Star began eating her lunch, as if afraid he would swipe the grapes from her plate. The boy just might. He would shove anything in his mouth, which was why Stud had nicknamed him Rocky after he had to pull rocks from his mouth more than once. He wasn’t outgrowing the habit, either. The adventuresome child would eat anything. Killyama had suggested calling him Iron Man, because his stomach could handle anything.

“No, he doesn’t have one.” Killyama started to pull a chair back from table, but Train did it before she could.

“Yes, I do.” Train smiled at Star, mumbling aside so only Killyama could hear, “Want me to help you find it?”

She elbowed him in the stomach as she sat down.

Killyama ate her sandwich, listening to Train and Stud talk about motorcycles and ignoring Sex Piston’s discerning gaze.

After lunch, Star kept fidgeting in her seat, waiting for Killyama to finish eating. When she did, Star jumped out of her chair.

“Can we go now?” Star grabbed her hand when she stood up.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Stud’s eyes tried to slow his daughter as she tried to drag Killyama out of the dining room.

“Killyama promised to help me wash my Barbie’s hair. Mama says I make a mess when I do it by myself.”

“Don’t let her talk you into washing the one that has the hair that grows. It’s been washed so much that the hair is falling out.”

“I won’t.” She let Star lead her to her bedroom.

The little girl’s excited chatter had her straining to hear the men leave. It took ten minutes before she could detect the sounds of Stud and Train heading toward the massive garage he had built behind his house.

Killyama was leaning over the bathtub with ten Barbies lined up to take their turns when Sex Piston came into the bathroom. Putting down the lid of the toilet, she micromanaged the Barbies getting their baths.

“Star, what have I told you about going to my bathroom to get my things?”

A soapy hand left a trail of suds on Star’s cheek when she pushed her hair back to eye her mother guiltily. “Your shampoo smells so pretty.”

Killyama wiped her cheek with the edge of a towel. “I’ll buy you another bottle.”

Sex Piston sighed. “It’s the third time she’s taken my shampoo. They’re thirty bucks a pop. You going to buy those, too?”

“Yes.” Killyama squirted even more shampoo on the lifeless doll she was currently holding.

“I don’t care if she uses it. I just want her to ask first before she takes something out of my room.”

“She will next time, won’t you, Star?”

“I promise, Mom. I won’t do it again.”

Sex Piston reached into the cabinet next to her, pulling out a tray of pretend hair tools mixed with real ones she no longer used that she had brought home from the shop, setting them on the counter for them to use later after the Barbies’ hair dried.

“Star, will you go get the white towels on the bottom shelf in the hall closet for me?”

“Yes, Mama.” Star handed Killyama the doll she was washing. “Don’t let Angie drown. She doesn’t swim as good as Kassandra.”

“I won’t.” She turned on the water to remove the shampoo as Sex Piston sunk down next to her, choosing one of the dolls. She gently dunked the doll then shampooed it as if she were doing one of the rich bitches who frequently visited her shop.

“Don’t do it.” The bitch lifted her troubled eyes to hers.

Killyama couldn’t be closer to the woman if they had shared the same blood. Probably closer. She and Sex Piston didn’t fight often, whereas Sex Piston and Diamond fought constantly.

“I won’t.” She knew they weren’t talking about the shampoo.

“I can’t watch you get hurt like that again.”

Setting the doll down on the edge of the tub, she reached for another one. “I’ve gotten him out of my system.”

“Men like Train aren’t easy to get over. I tried to stay away from Stud. So I’m asking you to do something I couldn’t do.”

“Train isn’t Stud and never will be. I’m moving to Knoxville when Hammer finds me an apartment.” She had given in to the idea of Lexington. However, business had become so steady they hadn’t had any time to go look at the apartments Hammer had selected before they had been taken off the market.

Sex Piston bowed her head, meticulously washing the doll. “This is all my fault,” she said, biting down on her trembling lip.