Chapter 9

Trix

All the way home, I can feel the trickle of blood oozing from my busted lip. Flashbacks of being punished when my grandfather was in a rage flash through my mind, though before today he'd never hit me. Being raised by the president of an outlaw biker club was not easy, particularly for a girl. My grandfather might call me his princess, but he treats me like garbage, or more accurately a possession to be traded away to gain an alliance with another MC club. He's so hopelessly old fashioned in his thinking, and stubborn as the day is long.

My trip home seems like it takes three minutes instead of the normal twenty because I'm lost in my thoughts, reliving the fear of my childhood. I have nightmares about some of the stuff. There's a recurring one where I'm hiding and scared for my life as a man tries to pull me out from under my bed. In that dream my mom is lying in a poppy field and she's fading from view. My Grandpa Cooper had me in therapy for years, but apparently, I wouldn't talk about what happened the night my mom died. I still don't remember anything, other than what I was told afterward—once I was old enough to understand. Apparently, she'd had a row with her drug dealer, and he'd killed her.

I'm still shaken by my grandfather's words, after he hit me, he told me I was gonna wind up like my mom if I didn't watch myself. I don't know what he meant by that, unless he thinks I'm using drugs too. I pull into the parking space in front of my apartment and rush inside, hoping no one sees my shameful busted lip.

Normally, I pace the room when I'm upset. Today, I just sit on my sofa and stare out the window as I think about my predicament. There's no way out for me. I can't run because I've got no place to go. Plus, if I do run, the Hounds will chase me down and bring me back. If I go to the police, they won't do anything. My grandfather was in cahoots with the old police chief and probably is with the new one as well.

I almost jump out of my skin when someone starts banging on my door frantically. I drop the cloth and both hands go up to cover my ears. Maybe if I can block out the noise they'll just go away and leave me alone. I know that won't happen, because it never does. They just keep coming after me, forcing me to do whatever they want.

I pull my hands down and scream, "Go away, Tracker. Leave me alone. What happened was all your fault for talking about it at the clubhouse where he could hear."

A gruff voice comes from the other side of the door. "It's not Tracker. It's Vapor. Let me in."

My breath catches in my throat. I lower my voice, "Go away, Vapor. Now's not a good time for me to have visitors."

"Fuck visitors. I know that you're hurting, but you've got to get the hell outta here. Decker is on his way and your grandfather told him to do whatever it takes to make you accept him."

I feel nausea swirling in my stomach, like I'm about to throw up. I don't know how Vapor knows about my personal problems but I sure as hell don't want to be here when Decker arrives. I run to the door and unlock it. The second I open the door, Vapor steps forward and wraps his arms around me. I let him hold me for a second because it makes me feel safe.

When he pulls back and looks down into my eyes, his expression is horrified. "Look, you've got to leave right now. Decker is right behind me and King roughed him up as well. He's going to be mad, I don't trust him not to take his anger out on you."

Bewildered, I ask, "How do you know all this?"

"No time to get into it right now. Come, let me get you someplace safe and I'll tell you all about it."

"I want to take my car."

He growls, "What don't you understand about no fucking time? I swear to God, if Decker gets here before we leave, I'm going to gun the fucker down."

I gape at him. "You're packing a weapon."

He literally scoops me up in his arms and carries me out the door. The crossbody bag I use as a purse pokes me in the side, so I push it out of the way. Before I know what's happening or have a chance to protest, Vapor is dumping me onto his bike, he's got his helmet strapped on my head, and climbs on in front of me.

"Hold on tight and don't let go," he says over his shoulder.

***

He uses the back streets to get us out of town, and we're on the road for twenty minutes or so which gives me time to think as I rest my head against the back of his black hoodie, inhaling his scent and feeling safe. I think how much easier things would be if the handsome bastard was around to solve all my life's problems like this. Eventually he pulls into a tattoo parlor.

When he stops the bike, I tell him, "I'm not really in the mood to get a tattoo. Can't we go somewhere else?"

"It's me and my brother's business. We have a back room where we sleep sometimes when things get busy and going home isn't viable. Come on in. We need to get some ice on that lip of yours before the swelling gets worse."

My hand comes up to instinctively cover my lip. I'm embarrassed that this man and I have had a couple of wonderful, if brief, romantic encounters and now he is seeing me at my worst. This just goes to show that I'm never going to be able to outrun my ties to the outlaw biker club my grandfather runs. It's going to keep ruining every nice thing in my life it touches.

I allow Vapor to escort me into his tattoo shop. If I was expecting the kind of shady businesses the Hounds frequent, I would have been very much mistaken. Vapor's business is neat, clean, and well decorated. It has the look of a retro barber shop in the lounge area, there are large books of tattoos laying around on low end tables tucked between comfortable seating. Drop lighting hangs down from the ceiling, the type with the filaments exposed so it looks kind of industrial, giving it a moody, calm atmosphere. Which, I guess when you're waiting for a tattoo is what you need.

Over the far end are the booths where customers get tattooed, while it still has the barber shop feel to it, with the chairs and mirrors, it also looks pristine.

"You have a really nice place," I murmur, feeling all kinds of awkward. The adrenaline is wearing off and I'm feeling a bit shaky.

"Thanks, me and my brother recently bought out the guy who owned it."

He gestures toward a door in the back. I follow right along where he indicates, amazed that I'd managed to hook up with a tattoo artist. I'm pleased he was telling the truth at the rave and not spinning me a line. It's kind of cool and fits his personality perfectly. The back room is like a tiny studio apartment, with a kitchenette, sleeping area and a small seating area. It's not as fancy as the shop, but looking at the cans of paint stacked in the corner, it looks like it's due a facelift.

I sit on a small sofa while he rummages around in the freezer to get ice. He comes back with an ice pack and wraps it in a clean cloth. He also brings a warm, wet cloth to clean me up with. This man is good all the way down to his bones, I think to myself.

Sitting down beside me, he uses the wet cloth to blot at the dried blood on my lip and chin. He's gentle and I appreciate his concern. I'm just humiliated that the man who raised me, hit me in the face. People aren't supposed to treat loved ones like that, or anyone else for that matter.

Vapor tells me reassuringly, "Look, I know this situation is difficult but you're going to get through it."

I shrug. It doesn't matter if I make it through or not, I am going to be married off to someone my grandfather picks. If it's not Decker, I'll be someone else.

"How did you end up involved? You said you'd tell me when we were safe, and I really want to know."

He lowers the cloth and hands me the ice pack. "Put this against your lip and hold it there for as long as you can tolerate it. Try for three minutes and then we'll rotate it every five minutes after that."

I do as he asks, while patiently waiting for him to answer my question.

He spends a few seconds handling the wet cloth with my blood on it before looking up at me. His expression is so serious that anxiety begins to twist in my gut.

"Look, you're not going to like what I have to say, but I have more respect for you than to sit here and tell you a bunch of lies."

I freeze in place for a second as I process his words. "Are you an undercover cop or something like that?"

He shakes his head, laying the cloth aside. "Don't panic when I tell you. I'm still the guy you met at the rave who really likes you, probably too much for his own good. I'd never do anything to hurt you." His voice is soothing and earnest but what he's saying makes me think he's a danger to me. I begin to edge away from him on the sofa, wary of what he's going to tell me.

"Just spit it out," I say with as much courage as I can muster.

"You are King's granddaughter. He's the president of the Hellfire Hounds MC, which is a one percent club. I'm a member of the Savage Legion MC. We're not a one percent club. The two clubs are not friendly with each other."

I come to my feet and start backing up toward the door. "You're with the Savage Legion? Why aren't you wearing a cut?"

He responds quickly, "Because I spent the morning working a dangerous job and didn't want anyone who caught sight of me to know I was with the Legion."

"Why are you targeting me? Jesus, is that what hitting on me at the rave was all about? You wanted to get to my grandfather's club through me?"

"No, no, and no. We didn't even realize King had a granddaughter. You're the best kept secret in Las Salinas. I actually wondered if you targeted me to get at the Legion, but it's clear from your face you had no idea who I was."

I hold up two hands, "Look, just save yourself a bunch of trouble and let me go. I won't tell anyone that you carted me off or that we had sex. Trust me, this is the best for everyone."

His head tilts to the side as he studies me. "Hey, I only took you away from your apartment to protect you from Decker. You're not my hostage. There's no need for you to be afraid. You can walk out of here whenever you want. I was just trying to keep you safe, I heard what they were planning."

When he comes to his feet, I back all the way up until I bump into the door. "Don't come any closer."

I remember him saying that he was packing a weapon. God, I was stupid for just allowing this virtual stranger to scoop me up and take me off to his cool tattoo parlor where we're all alone and he could literally do anything to me. I don't want him to use my skin to make a people suit. Okay, that thought was uncalled for. I realize that my mind is spinning wildly out of control.

"Well, if what you're saying is true, I'm going to leave. I don't want to be here alone with a rival club member."

Vapor sighs as he gazes at me. "Just remember, you're free to leave anytime you want, but you also have my permission to come here anytime you need a safe place."

"Jesus, why would I ever do that?" I say in absolute shock.

"Trix, you're in an extremely precarious position. You're young, beautiful, and about to be trafficked by your own family in order to cement an alliance with one of the most ruthless motorcycle clubs on the West Coast. Decker is the son of the Grave Digger's president. Do I need to explain to you how they came up with that name?"

I shake my head because I've heard all the stories. Their club is reputed to have multiple dump sites because of the horrific levels of violence they are involved in.

Vapor takes a step closer, sending me into even more of a panic.

"You are eventually going to need an exit plan. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to help you escape your grandfather and his club, as well as Decker and the Grave Diggers."

Taking a key off his keyring, he tosses to me. "This is a key to our shop. Come here if you need a safe place. We keep food and drinks on hand, and I'll stash some cash in the jar on top the refrigerator, in case you need a little cash to get a fresh start. Don't hesitate to come here day or night if you're in danger."

I'm still terrified to be alone with a member of the Savage Legion, but Vapor's calm tone is helping me not to panic so much. "Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?"

"Because someone needs to step up for you right now. It might as well be the guy who likes you, right?"

I try my best to calm down because even though I'm not sure if I can trust him, he is offering me a shelter of last resort.

"I know you see me as the big bad wolf right now, but just remember how good we were together. I never pushed you for anything you weren't comfortable with because I respect women. Everyone in my club does."

"Okay, I just need some time to process this whole situation."

"If you ever just want to talk, grab one of our cards on the way out the door. It has my cell number on it. I'll even come and pick you up if you get into a tight spot."

"Alright, just give me some time to think it over."

"Steer clear of Decker until he's had a chance to cool off." Taking a step closer, he murmurs, "Stay safe out there, Trix. Don't take any chances with your safety."

"I won't," I reply as my hand reaches for the doorknob that leads to the commercial area of his building.

"Just one more question," he asks, "If you wind up missing, do you want me to search for you, or do you want me to leave well enough alone so you can get used to your new husband?"

My mind is instantly blown. I don't even have to think about the answer. It pops out of my mouth with virtually no forethought. "I want you to look for me, please."

"Alright. I'll do exactly that. No matter what kind of situation you end up in, remember that I'll be coming for you. I might even end up bringing law enforcement."

"Whatever you've got to do to save me. Thanks for caring about what happens to me, Vapor."

Without giving him a chance to respond, I slip out the door of his private space and head for the exit. I make a special point to grab one of his business cards before pushing the door open and stepping outside. The sky is overcast. I don't look back as I fast walk away from this enemy who I never should have bedded down with, but who might end up having to save my life.