Silver Bastard
Page 42

 Joanna Wylde

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I wasn’t a slut. I was normal.
But that didn’t change the reality that I’d most definitely gotten off with Puck. He was nothing like the others. Not even close. When I dreamed about him and woke up screaming, those weren’t screams of fear. Even now I felt my breasts tightening and I knew if he looked at me, he’d see my nipples under my tank top.
Shit, I wasn’t even wearing a bra.
“So tell me,” he said, his voice soft and compelling.
“Tell you what?”
“Who are you fucking?”
“That’s none of your business,” I said, digging in my heels. “I don’t owe you any answers.”
“You cut hair for anyone?” he asked. The change of subject took me off guard and I didn’t consider my answer before speaking.
“That’s sort of the goal,” I replied. “But I’m not licensed yet, so I only do it for friends. I’m not allowed to take money for it, either.”
“But you do. I saw him pay you. Or was that for other services?”
Douche.
“You tell me,” I snapped. “You were spying on us, right? Do you get off on watching, Puck?”
“No. I hate it when other men touch you. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
The admission stunned me into silence. Around us the crickets had come out in force, singing their soft music through the cooling air. I loved summer nights like this, all mild and warm and still . . . Minutes passed without any more snide comments and I felt myself slowly relax. It shouldn’t always have to be a fight.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” Puck replied, his voice a low, sexy rumble that sent chills through me. I took a deep breath, wondering if I was making a huge mistake. I’d always wanted to know, though—to understand what’d really happened that morning in California.
“Why did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Why did you tell Teeny I was shitty in the sack, then rescue me? I mean, if you didn’t like sex with me, why did you even care? Nobody ever helped me before then . . . You weren’t the first one he gave me to, you know. None of them gave a damn. What made you do it?”
He sighed heavily, and I heard the soft clinking of his bottle as he took a drink and then set it back down.
“Fuck . . . well first up, I never said you weren’t a good lay. You were a fuckin’ great lay, best I ever had. I told one of my brothers I’d scared you, that’s all. Teeny was listening in because he’s a cocksucking weasel, and I guess he put his own spin on it. I never meant for you to get hurt. Christ. Felt guilty as fuck.”
Wow. All these years I thought I’d disappointed him. Crazy how one casual comment had the power to change my life. Destroy it and save it, all in one swoop. Didn’t seem right.
“But it wasn’t just guilt—the situation pissed me off. All of it. Realizing I’d been played . . . I guess I was worried about going back to jail, too, but mostly I was just fucking pissed off that I’d been out less than a day and already things were fucked to hell and back. Not that I blamed you—I mean, you were the victim, not me. Once I figured it out, I couldn’t just leave you there.”
That wasn’t the whole truth, though. He totally could’ve just left me there. Everyone else had.
“I know all about motorcycle clubs,” I said slowly. “Nobody talks about it, but the Silver Bastards aren’t exactly shiny and bright and legal. That’s reality. Teeny’s house was a regular pit stop for all types of bikers and none of them ever gave a flying fuck about me before that. You can’t tell me you’ve never seen a woman in trouble before, or that you’ve tried to save all of them.”
A bright streak flared across the sky, burning out as suddenly as it appeared. Falling star. What should I wish? Probably for my mom to leave Teeny. What I really wanted, though, was to lean over and kiss Puck.
I was the best he ever had.
“Not all clubs are the same,” Puck said slowly. “Some are better than others. I’m not saying the Bastards are innocent and perfect, but your stepdad is scum and he’d never make it in our territory. We’d take him out. The Longnecks aren’t much of a club, either. Technically they’re still our allies, but we’ve lost all respect for them and they know it. It’s not an excuse for what happened, but I can tell you this—it wouldn’t have gone down like that in Callup. The Silver Bastards don’t rape little girls.”
“You telling me your brothers never share their women?”
“Old ladies and family?” he asked. “Nope, not really our thing. Some club whore wants to fuck five guys, that’s her call. Nobody gonna force her, though. And Boonie wouldn’t put up with some kid being pimped out like you were—no fucking way. We’d end that shit straight up, and we’d end it permanently.”
“I can see that,” I admitted. “I like Darcy. I mean, I don’t know her that well, but when I was trying to decide about beauty school, she took me out for coffee and we talked some. She said if I did a good job, sooner or later she’d make room for me at her day spa.”
“Yeah, Darcy is like that. She’s a good woman. God, this is so fucked up, but you need to know that what your mom and Teeny have? That’s not normal, not for a real club. We like to keep our shit tight. We have to be able to trust our women—when the cops come, they gotta take our backs. You can’t beat someone into loyalty. Doesn’t work that way.”