Page 6 of Colt

3

Ember

The last couple of weeks since we left Las Vegas flew by. I was happy to get out of there. Crazy old feelings about Colt continued to resurface, causing me to feel out of sorts. But then I would remember how it felt when he called me a whore. It made me want to tell someone the truth about my situation, but I wouldn’t put anyone at risk just to help save my reputation.

Now, some of the Vegas guys were on their way up here for a few days on some sort of mission, and I couldn’t seem to get my heart rate under control. What if Colt showed up here? How would I handle him being in my space again? Torch wouldn’t allow me to skip the party since he loved using public events to exhibit his control. Besides, James would expect me to be there.

Even though I was supposed to play hostess, I wouldn’t dare ask my brother who was coming or why. I didn’t need to trigger his curiosity. Not that he’d actually tell me anything. For now, I focused on the task at hand, getting everything prepared for our guests’ arrival.

“Looks like everything is ready. Thanks, ladies.” I placed the final tray of food on the counter and wiped my hands on the dishtowel hanging near the sink. The women helping me rushed out of the kitchen, anxious to get ready for the festivities.

“What are your plans tonight?” I asked, looking over at my younger sister, Phoebe, who was leaning against the counter and sipping from her bottle of water. She’d apparently raided my closet and stolen an old dress of mine. In it, she looked like a younger version of me. As for me, I’d long since given up sexy dresses for simple and clean: killer shoes, jeans, and a simple top.

“A few of us are going to the movies,” she said, now texting away on her phone, “and then Marissa is going to spend the night.”

“Do her parents know there won’t be any adults home?” On nights like this, James and I would both spend the night here at the clubhouse, and with our mom in New York, Phoebe was on her own at our house. At least that’s what she thought. With the modified lockdown James put the club on, Phoebe was well guarded without her knowledge. There was no need to make her worry about things out of her control.

Phoebe rolled her eyes and let out a loud huff. “Marissa’s eighteen and her parents wouldn’t care anyway.” She took a breath, and then in the sweetest voice she could muster, she asked, “Do you think we can swing by here after the movie?”

“You know that’s not happening.” I shook my head, chuckling at the absurdity of her asking a question she already knew the answer to. “You’re only seventeen, Phoebe. Dad would be rolling in his grave if we let you hang out at one of these parties.”

I’d only been allowed to attend parties once I turned eighteen and that was short-lived. James had the same philosophy as our father when it came to Phoebe. Family events were okay, but what was occurring here tonight was a completely different story.

“So I’m old enough to stay at the house by myself, but not old enough to hang out here?” she shot back, dramatic as hell. “You guys suck!”

I couldn’t help but laugh as she stomped out the front door. I could see things from her point of view, but she didn’t know the lengths both of us went to make sure she was protected. She was lucky that James hadn’t sent her away with our mother like he wanted. She was pushing it by asking me for any leeway. Not having Mom around made things tougher, but she was struggling with Dad’s death and I wasn’t sure how long she’d grieve. He’d been the love of her life, and vice versa. Even though the idea of losing your spouse was awful, I still wanted to find that kind of love for myself as much as for my siblings one day.

Just as I thought that, Colt’s face popped in my head. I remembered him having a great smile and laugh, but then I remembered his expression two weeks ago that made me wish that the ground had opened up and swallowed me whole.

Shaking off that ugly feeling, I walked into the next room and I could feel the clubhouse buzzing with energy. The bar was fully stocked, a member, who moonlighted as a DJ, was setting up a computer and speakers in the corner, and plenty of girls were roaming around in outfits that didn’t leave much to the imagination. The business the guys needed to deal with would be addressed tomorrow. Tonight was all about having a good time.

Whatever the issue bringing the guys here from Vegas, it was the first major problem James was dealing with since taking over for our father. My faith in my brother’s ability to handle whatever situation came his way never wavered, but knowing the Las Vegas chapter had Reno’s back gave me peace of mind.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, I realized I only had about thirty minutes to get myself put together. Racing up to the room that I stayed in more often than not, I started rummaging through the closet to find something to wear. I settled on a pair of black skinny jeans, a gray open-back blouse, and the sexiest pair of red stilettos I could find. Pulling down the messy bun from the top of my head, I left my hair hanging in natural waves around my shoulders. If I was going to play the role of biker girlfriend, I was going to look hot while doing it. And if Colt happened to show up here, I wanted to look good. I was swiping on some red lipstick when I heard a knock on my door.

“Ember, people are starting to show up,” James yelled from the other side of the door. “Get your ass out here!”

I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me. I loved my brother, but he could be a bossy jerk sometimes. Checking myself out in the mirror one last time, I was pretty pleased with the result, seeing as I didn’t put much time into getting ready.

I opened the door and started following my brother, who was already halfway down the stairs. When we stepped outside, I scanned the parking lot and locked eyes with Torch. He was leaning against his bike, talking to a few guys. It wasn’t hard to spot him in a crowd. He was six-five, with hair as dark as the night sky, and piercing blue eyes. His good looks were what first caught my attention and they disguised the evil that lurked inside the man.

I spun around when I heard the low rumble of more engines and watched as two Desert Sinners with Las Vegas patches drove in and parked their bikes across from my brother and me. I squinted my eyes, trying to get a good look at which two were joining us.

A huge grin spread across my face when I realized it was Hawk and Fitz. Hawk’s father was one of the founding members of the Desert Sinners. He was around when I lived in Las Vegas, but Hawk was five years older than me, so we never really interacted. He’d spent the last ten years in the Army and only returned a short time ago. Fitz and I, however, had a friendship that began years ago when we were just kids. He didn’t join the club until long after my family moved away, but his sister was one of my best friends from grade school, so a lot of my childhood memories included him. In fact, I think my family even influenced his decision to join the Desert Sinners. Once he patched in, he made trips up here for club business.

Hawk walked over to my brother and shook his hand. “Hey, Ice. Thanks for having us.”

I hung back as the guys talked for a minute. But, as soon as they were done, Fitz made a beeline for me. We’d only been able to say a few words to each other in passing during my short trip to Vegas, so I was happy at the prospect of having him around so we could catch up. When he was close enough, he reached out and pulled me into a bear hug, lifting me off my feet and spinning me around a couple of times.

“How’s it goin’, Red?”

It’d been years since anyone called me Red, and his use of my old nickname caused a big grin to spread across my face.

I smacked his shoulder so he would put me down, but I couldn’t deny the happiness I felt in his arms. “Everything’s good,” I replied. “Working a lot and making sure these guys don’t get themselves into too much trouble.”

“Well, you look good.” I could feel the blush creep up my cheeks. It always felt good when a man, especially one as hot as Fitz, complimented you.

Most guys who held Fitz’s position were scary motherfuckers, and his size, at least six-two and sizeable muscular frame, left no doubt he could handle his own if the situation called for it. However, Fitz’s good looks and disarming smile could make someone forget how lethal he could be. I’m sure that worked to his advantage.