Cash (The Henchmen MC Book 2) Read online

“How many courses is this thing?” I asked, looking around at all the serving trays (yeah, serving trays... in my brother The Henchman leader's house) laid out on the kitchen counter, just waiting for food to be placed on them.

  “Dinner and dessert,” Reign said with a sigh. “Talked her down from four courses.”

  “Fuckin' serious?” Wolf asked, dangerously close to laughing.

  “Serious about what?” Lo asked. I hadn't even seen her walk up, but there she was, at Reign's side.

  The silence after her interruption was palpable and awkward with Reign recovering first, taking a swig of his beer and answering, “Summer wanted this to be a four course thing. Speaking of,” he said, swiveling his head over his shoulder to where it looked like Summer and her father were having some sort of heated debate, “I gotta go see what's up.” With that, he was gone.

  Wolf looked at me with a silent shaking chuckle in his chest and said, “You're on your own.” He grabbed a fresh beer and moved away, inclining his chin at Lo as he passed. “Woman,” he said in his deep voice before he was gone.

  Lo turned to watch him walk away, a strange small smile playing at her lips. When she turned back to me when Wolf was out of sight, she said, “I like him.”

  “Want me to hook that up?” I asked, taking a long swig of my beer. Jesus fuck if she would just hook up with one of the men, if she would just make it about loyalty, then I could stop fucking picturing her naked, riding me hard and fast, her tits jumping as she did, her head thrown back as she moaned my name...

  Lo was giving me a sly smile. “As much as I like the strong and silent type,” she started, taking a few steps forward so that her front was practically plastered against mine and for a horrifyingly hot moment, I thought she was going to kiss me. Then she reached behind me for a fresh beer and stepped back. It was then I realized I had been holding my breath and sucked in some air. “He's not meant for me.”

  “Meant for you?” I asked, smiling. “Baby, we ain't talking about forever. We're talking about tonight.”

  Unphased, she shrugged. “Not meant for that either. And I'm not your baby.”

  “Oh sweetheart,” I said, smirking, getting up in her space until she took a step in retreat, “I can get you to the point where you're begging me to call you baby.”

  “Pretty confident in that, huh?” she asked with what I could only describe as a challenge in her eyes.

  “Yep,” I agreed with a nod.

  She took her step back, making her press her tits into my chest and angle her head up to look me in the eye. “Never gonna fucking happen, Cash.”

  Two

  Lo

  When I was eight years old and told my father that I wanted to be in the Marines just like him when I grew up, he told me that women in the military were nothing but a liability or a distraction and that it would be a cold day in hell he let any daughter of his be the reason a platoon of good men lost their lives.

  When I was sixteen, I went into a convenience store after school. While I was looking through my junk food options, a man came in with a gun, demanding money. The man behind the counter, in his forties, foreign but in a way I couldn't describe, reached into the register but must have simultaneously reached for a gun. It was half raised in the air when the gunshot went off and I watched in absolute horror as the bullet wedged itself between the store owner's eyes with a spurt of impossibly red blood out the back of the man's head, spraying all over the cigarette stand. His body hovered on his feet for a nauseating few seconds before he collapsed forward over the counter.

  The robber, undeterred, reached into the register, stole the money, and took off.

  I stood frozen as the wife of the store owner came in from the back having, no doubt, heard the gunshot. She stopped for the barest of seconds in the doorway, looking around until her eyes fell onto her husband. She flew at his body with a scream I could still hear when the night got too quiet, a scream that sounded like with him, a part of her died as well.

  The police poured in, my father came, questioning was carried out. I answered in a strange numbness as I watched the wife have to be pried from her husband's dead body, her body shaking so hard from tears that she looked like she was having a seizure.

  And I knew, in that moment I knew with a blinding sort of clarity, that I would never in my life ever know a love like that.

  They were strange memories to have your mind constantly roll over, especially given that decades had passed. The fact of the matter was, those were two of the five biggest game-changing moments in my life that made me into the woman I had become. They were memories I worked hard to remember in excruciating technicolor detail, fearing that if I lost even a second of them, I would lose an integral part of myself.

  They were the thoughts I had on my mind when the door to Reign and Summer's house opened and in walked Cash.

  Cash, that was actually his real name, like Reign was his brother's real name. Power and money, they were the only things that mattered to their old man. Reign looked like their father, tall and muscular, dark hair, light green eyes. Fierce. Everything about the leader of The Henchmen MC was fierce, dark, and dangerous.

  Cash, much to the detriment of every damn woman who crossed his path from the day his voice dropped, inherited his looks from their mother. He was every bit as tall as his brother, but where Reign's looks ran toward dark, Cash's ran toward light. He had his dirty blonde hair long on one side of his head and shaved to a peach fuzz up the other side. His eyes were a deep shade of green and his lips were almost perpetually turned up at the sides. Then, of course, there were the tattoos. I didn't even want to get into the tattoos. Oh, my god.

  See, the problem with Cash was, he was likable. A man like him didn't cross your path and rub you the wrong way. He was laid-back, funny, flirtatious. If he was in the presence of a woman, you could tell he appreciated her and not just if she was hot shit (though he certainly... appreciated those ones all the more). It was almost as if you could just sense that he just genuinely liked women with all their contradictions and complexities. He wasn't the kind of man who bitched and moaned about us being emotional or needy or hard to get (because, to him, they never were). He just took women as they were.

  And, fucking hell, it was like catnip.

  Let's just say, it was no secret that Cash was a whore. Hell, no one could even blame him what with looking how he looked, walking like he walked (he simply... swaggered), talking like he talked (the silver-tongued devil), and riding around on his bike with his leather cut. Yeah. He could have any woman he wanted. And Cash wanted a lot of different women.

  I didn't particularly have a problem with manwhores. If women want you and are happily giving of themselves to you, well, why wouldn't you indulge? He was youngish, he was hot, he was single. I didn't care how many women he dipped his wick into.

  That being said, he wasn't getting near me.

  He was hot. I was affected. That didn't mean I was stupid.

  I had a few years on Cash. I'd been around the block. I knew my fair share of manwhores. I knew there was nothing there but hot sex and sore feelings to be had with men like him. Sure, at times, a woman needed some hot sex. The problem was, I was never the kind of woman who didn't sit up and think 'what if' and 'if only' when she woke up in a man's bed.

  So, yeah, my body was practically electric when he was close enough to catch his smile or his laugh... but the fact of the matter was... it was never gonna fucking happen.

  “Careful, beautiful, that sounds an awful lot like a challenge,” he said his voice rumbling low and seductive and it ran through my system like a current.

  “Consider it whatever you want, handsome, but let me tell you right now,” I said, having to force myself to keep eye contact when his lips were giving me that devilish grin of his, “you will lose.”

  “Aw, Lo...” he started when the oven dinged loudly, making us both start and having me take two steps back before I even realized what I wa
s doing.

  “I need a big strong man to help me pull this ham out of the oven,” Summer breezed in, giving me a knowing smile as she moved past me.

  “Big, strong man, huh? Sounds like someone is calling my name,” Cash said, turning to her, and I watched as his eyes softened.

  Then we had dinner. It was strained at best at the beginning, with Summer trying to banter awkwardly and Cash or myself trying to jump in to save her. By the time coffee and dessert was served, things had gotten a little looser with Cash and Reign and, occasionally, Wolf, telling old war stories about the trouble they got into as kids. It was dinner conversation liberally dotted with 'fucks' and 'shits' and 'pussies', but at least it felt more natural.

  Reign sat back in his chair, his arm going around the back of Summer's as his attention turned to her. I wasn't sure how she could stand to be the recipient of his intense brand of attention. I felt like squirming and his head was completely turned from me.

  “So we did this asinine dinner party, babe,” he said to her casually, his tone teasing. “And we never have to do it again, yeah?” he asked, sounding close to laughing as her cheeks heated slightly. She knew as well as the rest of us what a disaster the whole night was.

  Then she did the oddest thing, she turned completely in her chair, leaning past Reign and looking over the sink in the kitchen. My gaze followed hers to find her looking at the clock.

  She worried her lower lip with her teeth for a second before sitting back and giving Reign a sweet smile. “Right,” she agreed.

  What the hell was that?

  “Heading out,” Wolf said, standing suddenly, his insane height making me suddenly feel like a little girl as I twisted my neck to look up at him. “Summer, good food,” he said, giving her a tight-lipped smile. His gaze drifted over Richard who got a chin raise, then to me, who got a, “Woman,” then finally to Cash and Reign. “Church.” With that, he took his burly mountain-man-biker self across the house and out the front door.

  His truck rumbled to life as I checked my phone to see if Janie texted me. She usually did, but sometimes if the plans were really concrete, she didn't bother; so I thanked Reign and Summer, asked if I could help with the cleanup, then made my way outside when I was shooed out of the kitchen.

  It was cool outside and I instantly regretted the choice to go without a jacket as I stood in Reign's driveway, brows knitted, because Janie and the van were nowhere in sight. It wasn't like her. She always showed up on time, usually early. I reached into my pocket, hitting her number and listening to the ring.

  “'s Janie, leave a message.”

  “Shit,” I groaned, ending the call and hitting it again. Three more times. On the fourth, I shook the phone on a growl. “God damn it.”

  “Janie flaked on you?” Cash asked from behind me, making me jump. He shouldn't have been able to sneak up on me. I was being careless.

  “She's probably just running late.”

  “Probably,” he agreed, moving to stand next to me in his annoyingly warm looking black leather jacket. He raised his arms up over his head, arching his back slightly on a groaning stretch that made his tee inch up from the waistband of his jeans and expose a delicious three inches of his tight abs that I found myself not able to look away from. I heard his low chuckle and realized he caught me staring. “Like what you see, honey?”

  Oh, good Christ, with the endearments. Was there anything hotter than a guy who used them so readily and with such great variety?

  “Eh,” I said, shrugging a shoulder as I made pointed eye contact.

  He looked down at me, his eyes smiling at me like he knew I was bullshitting him and weighing if he was going to call me on it or not. Apparently he thought better of it because the next thing I knew, his hand moved out and his finger stroked down my bare goosebumped arm, giving me a shiver for an entirely different reason. “Little cold to be standing out here waiting on a ride,” he observed, his thumb and forefinger snagging the edge of my t-shirt sleeve for a second before pulling away.

  I pulled in a slow breath, hoping it would do something to slow my heart slamming in my chest. “I'll be fine,” I said, feigning casualness when there was a very (and I mean very) persistent pulsating between my thighs.

  “Lo,” Cash said, his tone taking on a serious edge that made me turn my gaze back to him, brows drawn together. “I get that you're all independent and can handle your own shit, but what point could you be making by standing here in the cold?” he asked, and well, he had a point. “Ask me for a ride, Lo.”

  Of course the jerk couldn't just offer me a ride. No, he wanted me to have to ask for it.

  I looked down at my phone, still nothing from Janie. I was starting to not only be frustrated, but get genuinely worried. Janie never didn't call or text back. I needed to get back to Hailstorm to see if anyone had heard from her.

  I sighed, tucking my phone into my pocket. “Fine. Can you give me a ride?”

  “Not gonna say please?” he asked, lips twitching.

  “Forget it,” I growled, moving past him to go back toward the house. I'd rather hitch a ride from Summer or Reign than deal with his nonsense.

  “Lo, baby, rein in the fucking pride and get on my bike,” he said, sounding every bit as exasperated as I felt.

  I turned back to see him already moving down the driveway toward his bike, the gravel crunching under his big boots. I watched his lean, strong body move as he swaggered (god it was so sexy) toward his bike, swinging his leg over, then finally looking up toward me, still standing dumbly on the front steps.

  “Oh, fuck it,” I murmured to myself, feeling a chill run through my body as I made my way toward his bike, putting a little extra oomph in my walk because he was staring me down.

  “Don't have any helmets, darling,” he said, tilting his head slightly when I got around him. “You're gonna have to trust me,” he said, then the light hit his eyes again, a light I didn't trust, “and hold on tight.”

  Oh, shit.

  I was totally going to have to hold on.

  “Fine,” I said, swinging a leg over the side of the bike and climbing onto the back, holding my body away from his as long as possible.

  He chuckled and turned over the bike, then waited. My guess was he was waiting for me to hold on. When I didn't, he let the bike jerk forward until my arms flew out and grabbed the sides of his jacket. “How 'bout this, babe?” he asked, reaching for my hands and pulling them around his front and under (yes under) his tee, settling my freezing hands against his hot skin. I felt myself jolt at the contact, trying to pull away. “Relax,” he murmured in such a low, soothing way that I automatically did. He released my hands and zipped up his jacket to further seal in the warmth. His hands moved to the handlebars and the bike burst into motion.

  I wasn't unfamiliar with bikes. I didn't even dislike them, but something about being without a helmet at high speeds had me scooting forward, clamping my thighs into the outsides of his and pressing my hands tight into his toned stomach. Okay, that was complete and utter bullshit. I held on because he was hot and he called me beautiful in that whiskey-rich voice of his and I really wanted to know what he felt like inside of me, but I also knew that holding him while he drove me home was the closest I was ever going to get to him.

  We pulled up to the gates of Hailstorm what felt like too short a time later, pausing for them to be unlocked before Cash just went ahead and rumbled through without being invited to do so.

  We had almost made it to the main building when the first explosion went off, sending us and the bike flying through the air.

  Three

  Cash

  I was about to cut the engine, grab her, wrap her around my waist and carry her back to her bed, or a couch, or a god damn wall, slam her up against it, and show her that it was, with fucking certainty, going to happen.

  The next second, there was a flash, a sound loud enough to quiet the world, and I was suddenly flying through the air. />
  There was the barest of seconds to realize Lo was still wrapped around me before we crashed down on the ground several yards away.

  Lo let out a groan at the contact as I cursed, trying to scramble upward, untangling my limbs from hers. Another explosion went off, making our bodies jolt at the sound. I pressed up on my forearm over her body, my free hand moving to the side of her face, touching just below a three inch gash down the side of her cheek. It was bleeding toward her ear, but it was shallow, if she treated it, it wouldn't even need stitches. “You okay?” I asked, feeling like I was yelling, but my ears had popped and I wasn't hearing right.

  Her mouth didn't open, but her head nodded, her eyes hazy for a moment. Then, I watched the realization dawn on her: Hailstorm, her home, her compound full of her people, had been bombed. Her eyes went huge and she was suddenly moving upward, slamming her hands against my chest until I moved back, sitting my ass on my heels so she could get up and I could look around.

  The good thing about Hailstorm, from an entirely logistical point of view, was it was made of fucking recycled shipping containers, meaning- it was all but indestructible. Fire-proof, wind-proof and, apparently, bomb proof. There weren't even any residual fires blazing.

  “Lo!” I called as she scrambled upward and started running. But she either didn't hear me, or didn't care, as she ran with a slight limp, favoring her left hip where the brunt of my lower body weight crashed down on her, and falling down beside the prone bodies of a group of her men.

  Even from a distance, I could see they were alive, breathing. I stood slowly, turning and looking for anyone else hurt, taking off toward the side of one of the buildings where I saw what looked like long dark hair peeking out from a corner. My first thought was: Janie. Granted, I didn't know her much, but what I did know, I liked, and I felt my heart skip faster as I made my way to the body.

  I fell down at her side, at once realizing first, that she was much sturdier in frame than Janie and, second, that she was also breathing. There was a nasty gash across her forehead where she had collided with the side of a solar panel stand.