- Home
- D. A. Young
The Ties That Bind 1 Page 7
The Ties That Bind 1 Read online
Page 7
He tilted his head toward the group of women without vests. “Maybe you should ask them how much they like it. I bet they got tips on making the transition to your new lifestyle a smooth one.”
“Stop it! Alright, I’ll wear it! Just stop it!” Angela brushed the tears from her eyes and cheeks. “I get your point. Thank you…for helping me.”
“Don’t.” Ransom forced himself to remain calm. He didn’t want her fucking thanks. He just wanted her gone. Far away where Harley couldn’t get his hands on her ever again. Where he didn’t have to see the deviant behavior his own flesh and blood was capable of inflicting on an innocent woman. “Just…Don’t.”
Wincing, she bent and picked up the helmet and slipped it on before carefully climbing behind him. Angela hissed when her sore bottom touched the seat. She wrapped her arms around his hard body, and Ransom cruised toward the gate. Twenty feet to the entrance, he slowed his bike to a duck walk, pushing the heavy machine forward with his boots as he waited for a guard to open the gate.
“Ain’t you supposed to be in church?” The freckle-faced young man shouted with a grin. He was wearing a black t-shirt that read “Prospect” across the front. It was decorated all over with white flowers.
“That’s the least of your worries!” Ransom shouted back, scowling up at Tank. It was the nickname the Immortals had dubbed him due to his solid build. “The only thing you need to worry about is me coming up there to kick your ass if you don’t open this gate!”
“Why does his shirt have flowers on it?” Angela shouted in his ear when the man hastened to do Ransom’s bidding.
“He’s a prospect, which means he’s looking to become a club member. Our Prez has a real warped sense of humor. He loves to dish shit out to see if they can take it,” he replied as the gates opened.
Ransom acknowledged his thanks with a two-finger salute. As he shot through the gates, Tank yelled, “Stay vertical, brother!”
They were now out on the open road, and Ransom accelerated his speed, loving the power at his fingertips. There was no better feeling in the world than riding his baby unconfined. It even surpassed pumping in and out of some warm pussy. Angela’s fingers clutched at him and reluctantly, Ransom slowed down. He hated the way she felt behind him. Probably because he’d never had a back warmer before. It was unfamiliar and claustrophobic, making him want to peel her ass off him and call her a cab. But he couldn’t do that to her. She’d already been traumatized enough. Forgetting her discomfort, Ransom accelerated again, in a hurry to see this mission through. If he never saw Angela again, it wouldn’t be a hardship.
Fucking Harley.
“Billy-Bear, don’t forget to take the car in to be serviced. The transmission light has been on for a while now.” Melody swiped a piece of toast from the short stack on the table, quickly slathered it with orange marmalade, and took a huge bite. Through narrow eyes, she scrutinized her daughter’s outfit. “Those wouldn’t happen to be my brand-new Alexis Bittar lucite bangles on your arm, would they? The ones that I’ve yet to wear?”
“Oops! I just thought they went really well with my outfit,” With a guilty smile, Billy handed her mom a V-8 from the fridge. She shut it with a twirl to show off the long purple-tank dress that she’d paired with a black blazer, a black, chunky link necklace, and black high-heeled combat boots.
“I did ask, but you were kind of zoning out watching “Living Single”. I promise to take the car in as soon as track practice is over. What time am I picking you up and from where?”
“I’ll let it slide this time but only because your outfit is very well put together,” Melody acknowledged around another large bite of toast. She smoothed her houndstooth patterned Calvin Klein jumpsuit in place and stepped into her tomato red crocodile-skin stilettos. As a celebrity stylist, Melody was always fashionably and immaculately dressed.
“The photo shoot is on the Santa Monica Pier. It should wrap up around six-thirty.” A car honked twice, and Melody grabbed her black Gucci tote. “Gotta go! Todd is here to pick me up. I hope he stopped by Chanel and picked up the requested dresses…”
Her sharp inhale prompted a concerned Billy to her side. “Mom, are you okay? What’s wrong?”
Melody leaned into her for support. Eyes closed, she concentrated on breathing. “It’s…nothing. Just experiencing a little more of the same discomfort I’d mentioned earlier.”
“That was last week! You haven’t made an appointment yet?!” Billy’s voice turned accusatory when her mother remained silent. “You promised that you’d do it, Mom!”
“I know what I said, Willamina!” Melody snapped, opening her eyes. Billy was freaking out mentally at how fast her mother had aged in the span of five minutes. “But right now, I’m slammed at work with seven upcoming shoots to style.”
Outside, a car honked impatiently. “Maybe you should stay home today? Let me take care of you.”
“Don’t be silly, baby! I can’t let you miss school. Also, this style shoot is too important for me to blow off over something that I’m sure will be diagnosed as trivial.”
Melody rushed to the front door. “I’ll have Todd make an appointment today. I swear. Bye, sweetheart! I love you!”
“Love you too,” Billy mumbled, the knot of fear in her stomach tightening.
The transmission service was forgotten when Billy was summoned to the principal’s office later that day. Todd, her mother’s assistant, was waiting for her with a grave expression. It was the beginning of the end of her life as Billy knew it, as she rushed to the hospital to be with Melody.
Now, as she stood on the side of a deserted New Mexico highway, watching fumes seep out from underneath the hood of the Lexus, Billy really wished she hadn’t blown off servicing the car.
“Just my luck,” she grumbled, scanning up and down the lone stretch of the two-lane highway that was in severe need of repair. Her search was a hopeless one. There wasn’t a car, state trooper, or emergency phone in sight. According to the sign she’d passed fifteen minutes ago, Billy was twenty-five miles from her destination of Chatham. “I knew I should have just called him and let him know I was coming.”
That would have been the smart thing to do before jumping in the car and taking an impromptu trip to the southwest less than twenty hours ago. It was very out of character for Billy to not do her due diligence and have all her ducks in a row. However, since Melody’s death, normalcy had flown out the window.
Billy tipped her head back and closed her eyes, trying to center her mind amid the chaos. She could still hear Porsha’s pleas for her to stay ringing in her ears. But louder than that was Neville’s admonitory silence, which Billy equated to rejection. Her pride demanded that she ignore her heart and go. If her mother could carve out a life for herself at sixteen, Billy managed to convince herself that she was just as capable at eighteen. With one last hug for her grandmother, she fled that oppressive mausoleum.
As her vision cleared, she was struck by how deep a blue the sky was and the pillow-like clouds that enhanced it. For the first time that day, she absorbed her surroundings—the desert, with scarce greenery yet an abundance of assorted-sized cacti against a backdrop of ombré, earth-toned hills, ranging in colors from light tan to terracotta. Occasionally, a roadrunner darted across the cracked and pothole-filled empty highway.
Pretentious Santa Barbara and her grandparents’ sweeping vineyards this was not. Billy had never seen anything like it. The desert was untouched, and she was kind of digging its barren, primitive vibe. Unfortunately, it was also hot. Dissimilar to California’s balmy humidity, New Mexico had a dry heat. Billy knew that staying hydrated would be mandatory at all times. A peek at her watch showed it was nearly eleven. Billy glanced down with dismay at her boots that were formerly Melody’s. There was no way she could make the trek in them. At least her track stuff was still in the trunk.
Billy removed the keys from the ignition and grabbed her purse, sandwich, and bottled water. After stuffing everything into her purs
e, she made sure the car was locked before heading to the trunk. For now, she’d take the bare essentials and arrange for a tow once she got to town.
A low hiss made Billy pause mid-step. She listened hard, trying to gauge its location. Warily, she glanced around but saw nothing. Perhaps, she’d only imagined it…The sound came again. This time, more aggressively. Billy glanced down when she heard something dragging—
“Holy crap!”
Dropping everything, Billy scrambled backward as a large lizard covered in an orange and black jigsaw pattern emerged from underneath the car. The reptile was about a foot and a half in length and five inches wide with a thick tail. It was extremely displeased with Billy for disrupting its midday meal, still dangling from a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth. Her stomach curled when she noticed the poor rodent was still twitching.
Behind her, in the distance, she heard the rumbling approach of an oncoming vehicle. She wanted to look but was afraid to take her eyes off the lizard lumbering in her direction. Billy racked her brain for her next move. Suddenly, the fat bastard did an about face and plopped itself right on her purse!
“No! No! Nooo! This would only happen to me! Without a doubt, I’ve got the worst luck in the world!” Billy wailed. She picked up a rock and took her frustration out on the lizard, hurling it at the reptile. That only made it hiss more, its tail swishing threateningly. She reached into her pocket and gripped the switchblade she kept on her person at all times. Billy wished she had her gun as well, but it was in the purse. She was seriously dreading what she’d have to do next, in order to get her purse back. But if it was her or that creature, then it was her. She hadn’t come this far for nothing.
The rumbling was much louder now. Billy momentarily glanced away from the lizard to see a lone biker headed her way. She quickly forgot about her adversary to turn and face him, arms flailing above her head, indicating her distress. Gradually, he slowed to a halt before her. Her first reaction was relief that quickly turned to wariness, realizing exactly how large he was. Her second reaction came right on its heels as she surveyed his appearance.
Well, damn.
Billy wasn’t into white guys and had never entertained the notion of giving one the time of day. At least that had been her truth a couple of months ago. Yet, this one had her undivided attention, all rugged and dripping with masculinity. He remained motionless, allowing her a thorough scrutiny, but his full lips quirked up at the corners sensually, letting her know he was very aware of the effect he was having on her, and most women in general, Billy assumed.
They were nice lips, she decided. Kissable, bitable even. She found herself wondering what they would feel like against hers. The thought made Billy warmer than the mid-morning sun beating down on them. The lower half of his face was covered in dark brown scruff that only heightened his virility. Black sunglasses perched on a long, straight nose kept his eyes hidden from her view. Thick brown hair rested on broad shoulders, concealed by a short-sleeve gray crew neck t-shirt and covered by a leather vest. His tanned, well-muscled arms were decorated in colorful tattoos that also peaked from underneath the neckline of his shirt. Slowly, his huge, black-gloved hands reached up to remove the sunglasses. Billy found herself waiting with baited for the grand reveal.
Please, please, please don’t let him be cock-eyed, she silently begged.
Her prayers were answered as his eyes were finally exposed. Time stood still as moss-green eyes and long lashes, burning with curiosity, pierced her with a laser-like intensity and stole the air from her lungs. He unhooked his helmet strap and removed it to reveal a full head of dark waves that were entirely too pretty for any man to appreciate. He probably thought she was an idiot from the way she was gaping at him.
Breathe, girl.
Breathe.
Her being an idiot was the farthest thought from Ransom’s mind. He was doing some serious scrutinizing of his own, disbelieving of the impact this lovely stranger was having on him. Ransom felt like he’d just gone ten rounds with “Iron” Mike Tyson and got the wind pulverized out of him. The girl was tall with flawless skin the color of nutmeg. Standing at about five-eight, she wore her black hair in two braids that fell past her shoulders, emphasizing the delicate shells of her ears from which silver, icicle-shaped earrings dangled. Her wide, cat-shaped, raven eyes were framed by a dense cluster of lashes underneath thick, slashing brows. Those impressive orbs were set in an oval-shaped face with high cheekbones, a broad nose, delicate chin, and a mouth that Ransom wanted to feel underneath his and then wrapped around his dick. Wide, full, pretty lips that almost seemed too large for her face. Lips that he wanted to nibble on and hear scream his name.
Lust rolled through him, hard and fast. Ransom mentally cursed at the sudden painful discomfort in the confined space of his crotch. And because he was apparently now a glutton for punishment, Ransom allowed his eyes to leisurely drift down to her feet and work their way back up. Holy shit. He swallowed hard at the sight of her knee-high, black, high-heeled “fuck the shit outta me” boots. Yeah, he had plans for those boots. Already, he was imagining her naked on her back with the boots dangling over his shoulders.
Yup, he was a dumb bastard, Ransom thought, stifling a groan. The faded cutoff-denim shorts she wore flattered lean slender legs that appeared endless. Ransom wanted them wrapped around him. He wasn’t choosy how as long as it happened. Her gauzy, long-sleeved black blouse revealed a promising cleavage. Not too big or too small, in true Baby Bear style, Ransom knew they’d fit his large palms just right. She wasn’t commercially beautiful. Nah, she was much more than that with those bold features competing on her model-worthy face. “Striking” and “arresting” suited her better than simply labeling her “beautiful”.
However, Ransom had a far more accurate word. It surprised the hell out of him, too, but suited her perfectly.
His.
Both his mind and body were in mutual agreement, demanding that he stake his claim. He wanted her. To be balls deep in her pussy, acquainting himself with the taste and scent of her. Everywhere. Just the thought of tasting her pussy had him drooling like an idiot. She had him ready to chuck all his rules out the fucking window. He needed to hear her scream his name as he made her come alive and lose control. Ransom didn’t know if he was her first, but fuck those other guys if that was the case. All he cared about was being her last. Her only. He winked at her, and she blinked at him slowly before arranging her features into a polite but wary mask.
The blink was the only indication she gave to acknowledge the sizzling awareness between them. Ransom found himself feeling conflicted by her response. Normally, he didn’t even have to open his mouth and bitches were tripping over themselves, propositioning him. Some offers were so outrageous that he’d accepted them just to see if the women would follow through. Yet, this girl, who looked like a million bucks, wouldn’t be tripping over or chasing after anybody. She was coolly confident and self-aware that she didn’t have to take her clothes off or sexually proposition anyone to turn heads.
In a voice coated with honey, she said, “Hey, thanks for stopping.”
“Where you headed, princess? You look lost.”
That rough, gravelly voice had goosebumps racing all over Billy’s body and her pulse skittering. Wow. It was so the kind of voice that chicks made fools of themselves over. She could only imagine the sweet nothings he’d spoken to make panties drop. Oh hell, who was she kidding? The biker could probably get away with farting in a bitch’s face and she’d want to have his baby. He was the kind of wet dream they’d gravitate toward. Billy was willing to bet money he had a stroke game legitimate enough to ruin some poor woman’s life.
Under no circumstances would it be hers.
Stay the course, Billy silently lectured.
“The name’s Billy, and I’m not lost. Just having a little car trouble and my first run-in with the local wildlife,” she replied, jerking her thumb behind her.
“It’s nice to meet you, Billy. I’m Ransom.
”
Billy?
Her name didn’t suit her. In Ransom’s opinion, it was too plain for a looker like her. He’d have to come up with a more fitting moniker. He glanced over her shoulder and whistled softly.
“Looks like New Mexico pulled out all the bells and whistles to impress you, darlin’. That’s a Gila monster and a big motherfucker at that! Be careful around them; they have a jaw that locks down and makes it impossible for its prey to escape, not to mention, they’re venomous.”
“Of course, they are,” Billy replied in a long-suffering tone. The wicked grin Ransom flashed, had her convinced that his charm would be equally deadly if he put his mind to it.
He turned his motorcycle off and drew the kickstand down but made no move to rise from the bike. After everything that happened to Angela, it was crucial to him that Billy felt at ease around him.
“If it’s alright with you, I’m going to get off my bike now and check out your situation? Just so you know, I am carrying a concealed weapon but will leave it in my pack if it makes you feel better.”
Billy contemplated his words carefully before gracing him with a smile bright enough to eclipse the sun. “Thank you for letting me know, Ransom.”
She reached into her pocket and withdrew what appeared to be a slender gold tube of mascara. Billy clicked the sides and a long evil-looking serrated blade appeared. It wasn’t a gun, but it could definitely do some damage.
“That’s such a coincidence, because so am I.”
At the sight of it, Ransom’s brow rose slightly, and he threw his head back and laughed heartily. The gesture exposed the strong column of his throat and sparkling white teeth. Billy blinked owlishly at his unexpected response that made her heart slam painfully against her rib cage.