Pop Goes The Biker: Turf Wars #3 Read online

  “Then go back to the club.”

  Fuck.

  He knows I’m not going to. I’m too tired.

  Fuck it, I’m so damned tired I don’t care.

  “I’m not goin’ to fuck you,” he points out.

  “Whatever, Captain, that offer has long passed.”

  I spin on my heel and walk away, acting like I know where I’m going. I really, really don’t.

  “Up the stairs, to your left,” Beckett calls out.

  Dick.

  I follow his directions and head up the stairs and find his room, I also borrow one of his shirts because there is no way I’m sleeping in jeans. I glance around the room while he’s busy downstairs, walking over to the closet and opening it. I don’t see anything at first glance, but I notice that a drawer is slightly open and coming out of it seems to be something pink. I quickly open it and find a stash of women’s clothing.

  Oh, Beckett, who are you hiding? And why?

  I hear him come up the stairs so I quickly launch into the bed. He walks in, pulling his shirt over his head as he does. He tosses it on the ground, drops his jeans and walks over to the other side. God, the man has a killer body. All sleek muscles, tattoos, and biceps that are making me wish he’d reconsider my offer. I swallow and try to focus my attention on something else as he slides into the bed. His body is hard and warm next to mine, and my pussy aches in a way that is embarrassing.

  I’m glad vaginas can’t speak, because mine would be screaming his name.

  “Do you have many sleepover guests?” I ask, putting my hands up and under the pillow.

  “No.”

  “Why did you let me come?”

  “Because I don’t need shit when somethin’ happens to you because I’m not watchin’. It’s my job, so here you are.”

  “Could have put me on the recliner ...”

  “Listen,” he says, glancing at me, “shut the fuck up, or I will put you on the recliner.”

  “Why are you always so moody?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “God, fuck, shut up, Poppy.”

  “I’m just asking a question,” I mutter.

  “You’re makin’ me moody,” he growls.

  “Why do you hate me so much?” I ask, the same question I’ve asked him before.

  I wonder if his mood toward me isn’t actually directed at me at all.

  I think he’s taking out some other frustration on me.

  “I don’t hate you. Go to sleep.”

  I exhale and close my eyes, my head spinning. Having someone lie next to me, someone that doesn’t make me feel unsafe, is a nice feeling. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt the presence of someone beside me that doesn’t intend to harm me. At least, I don’t think Beckett intends on harming me.

  Can’t be too sure.

  Beckett is quiet and his breathing gets deeper and deeper. I lie there listening to the sounds of him falling asleep, and my heart does a funny little flip.

  His hand moves and grazes against mine.

  Then, he hooks one finger around my little one.

  My heart races.

  I don’t know if he’s asleep, or if he knows what he’s doing.

  Either way it’s nice.

  Really damned nice.

  4

  “Wake up.”

  Beckett is shaking me, angrily trying to stir me from a really good sleep. I groan and press my hands to my head; it is pounding and my god, it’s going to be a long day.

  “What?” I groan, trying to focus so I can see the man leaning over me, hands on my shoulders, trying to rouse me.

  “Go into my bathroom. Now. Hurry up.”

  What?

  I shake my head, confused. “What?”

  “Now, Poppy. Do not fuckin’ come out until I tell you. I swear to god, if you want me to be nicer to you, you’ll do what I’m askin’.”

  “Okay, okay,” I groan, getting out of bed and walking into the bathroom that connects to his room.

  He looks somewhat frantic as he straightens out my side of the bed, picks up my clothes and tosses them into the bathroom where I’m standing, half asleep, staring at him in confusion.

  “Not a fuckin’ sound.”

  He shuts the door, and I hear him walk out of the room.

  I mean, he doesn’t honestly think I’m going to stand here and not go and see what’s got him in such a tizzy, does he?

  Poor guy.

  I walk out of the bathroom and out of his closed bedroom. I can hear voices in the kitchen, so I very quietly sneak down the stairs. I pray the entire time they don’t creak, because I’m fairly certain Beckett could, and would, kill me if he could. I stop when I can hear the voices clearly and listen.

  “Been tryin’ to get hold of you for a fuckin’ week, Becky,” Beckett growls.

  Becky.

  Beckett.

  Original.

  You couldn’t do it if you tried.

  “I know, but I haven’t been able to answer the phone,” Becky says, her voice all soft and sing-song like.

  I need to get a look at this Becky.

  I creep down further and peer around the corner to see Beckett standing in the kitchen next to a drop dead gorgeous woman. But she’s like ... upper class. The kind of woman who is dripping in money and living the high life. She’s tall, wearing a pair of heels that I couldn’t afford even if I sold my body for sex.

  Her clean, pressed skirt and blouse is so pretty and so well put together I just know it would have been incredibly expensive. She’s got perfectly styled blond hair, sitting on her shoulders, streaked by a professional. Her nails are done, a soft pink, and she’s got jewelry on just about every damned limb. She’s got a face full of perfect make up.

  She’s gorgeous.

  She looks like she could be a lawyer, or a doctor, or a principal.

  She certainly doesn’t look like she belongs with a man like Beckett.

  “What the fuck do you want from me, Becky? I’m tryin’ to move on. Tryin’ to start over and you keep playin’ games with me. Back and forth. I accept it’s over and go find another woman and ...”

  “You’ve been with another woman?” she breathes, her voice so pretty it makes me want to go over there and hug her.

  “No, I fuckin’ haven’t. I went on a date. Tried. Been tryin’.”

  “I’m sorry. I know this is hard. I just ...”

  “You can’t leave your fuckin’ husband because he’s rich and gives you the life you want.”

  Boom.

  Boom. Boom. Boom.

  I knew it.

  Beckett is fucking a married woman.

  An expensive married woman.

  I bite my lip and keep watching.

  “He doesn’t make me happy, you do. I wish you’d believe that,” Becky says, reaching for Beckett.

  “I don’t fuckin’ believe it because you keep me on a god damned string and you know it’s killin’ me.”

  “I love you, Beckett. I do.”

  “But you can’t be seen with a biker,” he growls.

  She hangs her head. “It’s so hard. So complicated. You’re all I think about. All I want to do is be with you. But you know it’s not that easy.”

  “I’m not waitin’ around forever,” Beckett tells her, arms crossed.

  “Just give me a little longer,” Becky pleads. “A little longer. I am working it out, I will be with you, Beckett.”

  Ugh. Liar.

  She’d never fit in the club life.

  She probably just likes how Beckett fucks her.

  Beckett exhales, his eyes scanning her face.

  I actually feel a little sorry for him.

  “You know I want you,” he murmurs. “A little longer, but that’s it.”

  She exhales and steps forward, and the two of them fall into a hell of a kiss. I look away until I hear them talking again.

  “I said I’m going away for work this week, I’ll come and stay a few nights. I’ve missed you.”

  “Yeah,” Beckett murmurs.

  I turn and carefully sneak back up the stairs, feeling like they’re about to finish their little conversation. I go back to my spot in the bathroom and sit on the edge of the tub, waiting for Beckett to return.

  I can’t ask him without giving away that I was listening, but everything suddenly makes a great deal of sense.

  Beckett is in love with a woman he’ll never be able to please.

  He has to know that, right?

  Love, though.

  It does stupid things to you.

  Ten minutes later, Beckett walks in and opens the bathroom door. I act like I haven’t moved a damned muscle.

  “Am I free now, Captain?” I ask, flicking him a smile. “Because a girl could eat.”

  He studies me, and the exhaustion in his eyes makes me want to hug him.

  But that wouldn’t go down well.

  “Yeah.”

  I follow him out and down to the kitchen where he begins preparing some breakfast.

  “Want to tell me why you locked me in the bathroom?” I ask, sitting on a stool by the counter and watching him.

  “No,” he mutters.

  “Girlfriend?” I pretend to guess.

  “No.”

  “Oh, secret lover?”

  He shoots me a glare.

  But he doesn’t say no.

  “Mind your fuckin’ business.”

  Moody.

  I’ll get to the bottom of this little affair.

  Oh yes.

  Yes, I will.

  “I CAN’T,” I MOAN, STARING at the bleach solution and forcing the contents of my stomach to stay where they are.

  “We gotta fuckin’ work,” Beckett orders.

  “I lit
erally can’t, Beckett. I will vomit if I go closer to that solution. I already feel like I’m going to die.”

  “Then you should learn how to handle your alcohol better,” he fires at me.

  I cross my arms, taking another step away. “Thank you for your wonderful advice, but I’m telling you, I’m not going to be able to do this right now. Let me sleep, then I’ll be good this afternoon.”

  “I have shit to do. I’m not here to fuckin’ wait for you.”

  “God, you’re such a giant penis,” I snap. “Can’t you be nice for two seconds?”

  He glares at me. I raise my brows and cross my arms.

  We have a stare off.

  “I’ll keep workin’, you lay down,” he begrudgingly mumbles.

  “Thank you,” I say, turning and walking over to the sofa where I lie down after taking two Tylenol.

  God.

  I feel horrible.

  I fall asleep quickly and nap for what seems like minutes. When I wake, though, the warehouse is quiet. I rub my eyes and feel something warm at the end of the sofa. I look over to see Beckett sitting beside me, his head tipped back, eyes closed. Oh, so someone needed a nap too, did they? My heart feels a little warm when I see my feet are on his lap. He squished in beside me, when he could have gone to my bed if he really wanted a decent nap.

  I watch him for a second, taking in his calm face as he sleeps. He really is something else. So incredibly gorgeous, and when his face isn’t tight from his troubles, he looks even better. His hand moves to rest on my foot and my tummy does a little flip. God, stop it, Poppy. You’re better than this. I let my eyes flutter closed again, and before I know it, I’m asleep once more.

  The next time I wake up, Beckett isn’t on the sofa anymore, but back to work. When I drag myself up to help him, he acts like he was never near me. Like he hadn’t stopped at all. What is he so afraid of? Us actually getting along if he’s nice to me? Me becoming more than just a prisoner?

  I walk over to where he’s working on the money and begin helping him without a word. He doesn’t look at me, which is kind of rude, but I let it go.

  We work in silence for a few hours, until finally the quiet is broken up when Riggs, Eve, Hugh, and Remy all walk into the warehouse carrying bags of food. I could run and hug them, I’m that hungry, but I try to act cool. I try to act like the waft of burgers coming from that bag isn’t making me want to throw myself at their feet and beg for just one bite. My stomach rumbles, and Beckett gives me a side eye.

  “Keep your judgy glances to yourself,” I murmur, before stopping what I’m doing and walking over to greet my new favorite humans.

  “A sorry meal,” Eve says, holding out the bags. “I’m so sorry I left without you last night. I was so drunk and Riggs took me home. I completely forgot I promised you could stay. I’m a terrible friend, it’ll never happen again. Can you forgive me?”

  Friend.

  Now there’s a word I haven’t heard in a long time.

  Eve knows when the club is done with me I’ll be on my way and yet, still, she refers to me as her friend.

  I could cry.

  But I’d rather eat.

  “You’re forgiven,” I say, opening the bag and pulling out the delicious, greasy burger, and sitting cross-legged on the ground, toss the other one at Beckett.

  I don’t wait.

  I eat and oh, god, it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.

  “How the hell do you stay so small when you eat like a fully grown man?” Remy asks me, a grin on his face.

  “It’ll catch up on me one day, I’m sure,” I say between mouthfuls.

  “Where did you stay last night?” Eve asks me.

  “Beckett’s ...”

  Her brows go up and she looks to Beckett, who shoots her a glare mid bite. She grins.

  “Wish we were here to chat about your night,” Riggs interrupts. “But we ain’t.”

  “Well, that sounds like it’s going to ruin my appetite,” I mutter. “Can I finish eating before you destroy my life.”

  The expression on his face tells me whatever news he’s about to share I won’t like.

  He lets me finish my burger.

  Then, he tells me the news.

  “Cartel doesn’t seem to believe that we’re not holdin’ onto you. They’re sniffin’ around, askin’ questions. They think we’re hidin’ you and I can’t see them goin’ away anytime soon.”

  Oh.

  Wonderful.

  “Good chance they saw you at the clubhouse last night,” Remy fills in. “Can’t be sure, but we had a visit today from one of them looking for you.”

  “Can’t we just give them the money I took and be done with it?” I question.

  “Don’t work like that.” Riggs shakes his head. “They’re goin’ to make a point, and that point is you don’t get away from stealing from them. Even if you do pay it back.”

  “So, basically, unless we can take down the entire cartel, then I’m going to die eventually ...” I say, my voice timid and small.

  That scares me.

  Scares the absolute shit out of me.

  “Not if we find something they want more,” Beckett says. “Make a deal.”

  “What could they possibly want more than to make their ‘point’?” I question.

  “Always somethin’ they want more.” Riggs nods. “Beckett’s right. We do a deal with them, get you off the hook.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Why would you risk your club to help me?”

  “Nobody said anythin’ about me riskin’ my club,” Riggs goes on, his eyes hard. “You’re the one who is going to make the deal, and you’re the one who is going to deliver it.”

  I blink. “They’ll kill me on the spot, we both know there will be no time for a deal.”

  “We’ll negotiate that part of it.”

  I close my eyes. This is a bad idea, a very bad idea.

  “I think I’d rather take the bullet,” I mutter.

  “You know people, you’ve been around,” Riggs goes on. “There has to be somethin’ you can offer them. Someone you can give a location to. Some sort of trade off you can make.”

  “None of which won’t be a risk to my life,” I point out.

  “Your life is at risk already, this is the best you’ve got.”

  I stare down at my crossed legs.

  “Can’t we just do it for her?” Eve asks. “I mean, come on, you’re a biker club. Surely you can do some sort of deal with them in exchange for her freedom. She’s helping us, can’t we help her?”

  “She’s helpin’ us, because she stole from us,” Riggs tells her. “It’s not up to us to fix her mess. We’re already keepin’ her safe, and we’ll make sure she gets a deal, but it’ll be her who carries out that deal.”

  God.

  I get it, I do. I stole from them.

  But I’m also helping them now.

  Still, they seem unable to see me as a real person.

  As someone worth helping.

  Story of my damned life.

  “I need some air,” I say, getting to my feet and walking outside.

  Suddenly, the burger my stomach was craving minutes earlier feels like it doesn’t belong.

  Just like me.

  I feel you, burger.

  I feel you.

  5

  “You okay?” Eve asks, sitting down beside me on an old fallen tree out the back of the warehouse.

  I shrug. “I basically have to accept that either way this goes, I’m likely to die sometime soon.”

  “I won’t let that happen. I’ll get through to Riggs, I promise.”

  I glance at her. “You don’t understand how this works, I get that. But I’ve been in this life a long time, I know exactly how it works. The club, that is far more important than me and nothing you say or do will get Riggs to change his mind. You know that; deep down, you know that.”

  Eve drops her head, exhaling. “Either way, I’m going to do the best I can to make sure whatever happens, you’re safe. The club might not want to be involved, but they can sure as hell offer some protection for whatever it is you have to do.”

  Right.

  Like they’re going to do that.

  “I got myself into this mess,” I say. “I’ll get out of it.”

  “Eve,” Riggs yells. “Gotta roll, come on.”

  Eve frowns and glances at me. “We’ll make this work, we will.”

  I give her a small smile as she stands and disappears. I stay on my log until Beckett finds me.

  “Let’s keep workin’, I got shit to do.”