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“Come on, Cassanova,” he says with a cackle and I feel my face heat. “I’m sure they’ll have news for us soon about where we’re going. Either way, I need to talk to Prez and you need a babysitter.”
“I can just stay in here.”
“Definitely not. I’m sure you’d try to leave as soon as the door was shut. Not all my brothers will be immune to your charm. What’s to say you won’t offer your ass to them to get out of here?” I feel my cheeks flame at that question. I hadn’t thought about doing that, but I’m sure I would have tried. “I’ve seen men fold for less. Your pouty lips make me think you know how to suck a dick and if I noticed as a straight man, one of my brothers that likes dick will notice too.”
Huh, so he’s checked me out.
He’s not lying. I use my assets. My lips are one of them and I make sure when they’re wrapped around a dick, they get the job done.
Not knowing what to say to that, I allow Rax to lead me out of the room. He knocks on a door right across from his. “Zeke. I need you to babysit.”
The door opens and Zeke stands in front of us, naked. I can’t stop my eyes from dropping to below his waist and my eyes grow wide. Holy fuck. Are all the men in this motorcycle club blessed in the dick department? Not all of them are as good looking as Prez, Zeke, and Rax, but I’m sure they’re all packing. Most of them seem to scream big dick energy, even the older ones.
“Put some pants on, you fucking heathen,” Rax says with a warm chuckle. I look up at him to see his face relaxed and his eyes crinkled at the edges. He looks really good with a smile on his face.
Zeke shrugs and opens the door wider. “Everyone here has seen my dick. Hell, some of them have tasted it. It’s nothing new. Come on in, cupcake,” he says to me and I move behind Rax without thought. Zeke doesn’t look dangerous at face value, but his eyes give off another vibe when they land on me. Like, if Rax told him, he would have no problem killing me and tossing me out with the trash.
“Inside. Go,” Rax says, pushing me forward. “Don’t fuck him, Zeke.”
With a loud laugh, Zeke pulls me in and shuts the door. He shoves me a little, directing me to a couch by the window. “Sit, rest.” Thankfully, he goes to his dresser and pulls out a pair of basketball shorts. “What’s your story, Huck?”
“Huck?”
“Yeah.” When I give him a confused look, he rolls his eyes. “Like Huckleberry Finn. Keep up, kid.”
“I’m not a kid. I’m twenty-four.”
“And I’m thirty-eight. You’re a kid to me.” He sits on the edge of the bed and crosses his arms. “Believe it or not, Rax doesn’t kill people for the fuck of it. If you do what he tells you, you’ll live.”
“Will I?” I ask quietly. “I don’t think I will. I’ve seen too much.”
A bark of laughter leaves his throat. “Jesus, Huck. You watch too many movies. We kill people that wrong us. Keep your mouth shut and you never have to worry about that. We’ll know if you didn’t.”
“How?”
“If the cops show up with too much information. Remember, we have chapters everywhere. If this one is under suspicion, that won’t stop the others from coming after you. Do you plan to tell anyone about this?”
“No,” I answer honestly. Even if the cameras over the grocery store caught Rax taking me, I won’t tell them where we ended up. I’m more afraid of the Devil’s Mayhem than I am of any police officers.
Zeke sends me a wide smile. “Good. Don’t trip. It’ll be fine.” I nod, not completely believing him, but having no other choice but to put my life in their hands. “So, you’re twenty-four and you know how to keep a secret. What else do I need to know about you? What do you do for work?”
I clear my throat. “I’m a mechanic.”
His eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “No shit? You work on motorcycles?”
Nodding, I say, “Pretty much everything if it has an engine. I don’t specialize in motorcycles and no one in town has one, but I know enough to get by.”
“Come on.” He grabs my arm and we trudge out of the room. Unlike Rax, he doesn’t pull me, just lets me walk at his side. I’m thankful for that because I’m exhausted.
He opens a wide door and we’re in a garage. I take a deep breath, loving the smell of oil and grease. Over in the corner is a bike that looks like it’s seen better days. Zeke leads me over to it and points. “It belonged to my dad. He was a Devil’s Mayhem member too. I’ve been trying to fix her up, but no one seems to know what’s wrong with her. Care to take a look?”
Do I have a choice, is on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it down. “I can. Tools?”
A heavy toolbox is dropped in front of me and I kneel down, popping the top, checking to see what I have. I look over the bike, pull a flashlight from the toolbox and look around. I think I see the problem, but I can’t be too sure.
“I need a torque wrench.” Zeke looks at me like I’ve spoken another language. “Never mind,” I say, trying to make do with what I have.
After tinkering around for a bit, getting dirty and loving the grease under my nails, I sit back on my heels. “Looks like your fuel injectors are shot.” I stand, wiping my hands on a filthy cloth I found in the toolbox. “You need to take it in or get a specialized motorcycle mechanic to replace it.”
