“Oh, did she run down to the store for a second?” Alyssa’s mom looked so tall and so soft, with a paunch of a belly and sagging breasts from dedicating her life to her children. She wasn’t hard and lean like Mother.

  Blue wondered if Alyssa curled up on the couch with her mother at night, and if they talked about things like how their days went and what was on television that night. “She just had some things to do. She’ll be back by dinner.”

  Mrs. Walker’s eyebrows furrowed, but she straightened her face again instantly. “Sweetheart, it’s already well past dinnertime. Why don’t you come back home with us and I’ll fix you a nice spaghetti supper?”

  Her heart thundered with fear, but her stomach rumbled. “But she won’t know where I went …”

  “We’ll just leave her a note, dear.” Mrs. Walker stepped boldly into the kitchen and rummaged through the drawers for a notepad and a pen. Her hands moved swiftly, irritably, and she had the job done quickly. “Let’s go, girls.”

  Mrs. Walker’s voice from the other room as she made several phone calls while the girls ate their spaghetti still echoed in Blue’s mind. That day had been the beginning of a whole new life for her. It wasn’t necessarily any better or worse than what she’d had with Mother, it had just been different. Alyssa’s mom had been kind when she had taken her in, but that had only lasted so long. The government had swooped in with their counselors and their paperwork, and everyone had thought they knew what kind of decisions they should make for her. When Blue had gone home to gather her things, the note still lay on the table, unread.

  “Are you with me?”

  Blue blinked and looked up. “What?”

  “You’re just sitting there, staring,” Spencer explained gently. “What’s going on?”

  “I told you, I’m fine.” Tears stung the back of her eyes, something that surprised her and only pissed her off more. She wasn’t the kind to cry, and certainly not because of something so silly. What must the client on the table think of her, the girl who was supposed to be the best artist in town and couldn’t even keep it together enough to get through a session?

  “Geez, okay. I guess it must be that time of the month or something.” Spencer shook his head and turned his machine back on.

  His words struck her like a fist. When was the last time she’d had her period? It had been far too long. A wave of nausea and horror washed over her, but she forced her hands to keep moving. There was no point in worrying until she knew something for certain. Women missed their periods all the time for all sorts of silly reasons. This guy had booked his session and was paying a lot of money for this tat, and it wasn’t fair of her to shortchange him just because she was being a worrywart. Blue blinked hard and focused on the deep green of the snake. She traced each of his scales in a dark green before coming back with a lighter shade to fill them in. Everything was fine.

  Later, when they were done and the booth had been cleaned, Blue ran a hand through her hair and sat down heavily. “I know I have other appointments set, but I need to go home.”

  Spencer pushed the button to start the sterilizer and looked at her. “You want to talk to me about it? I’m not a doctor, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn once.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably just a virus. There’s no telling what people bring in here with them.”

  He pursed his lips. “You want me to drive you home? You look pale.”

  “I’m always pale,” she argued.

  “Okay, paler than usual. Which is pretty damn white, if you ask me. You’re almost as blue as your hair under your eyes.

  “I feel pale,” Blue admitted, touching her fingers to her face and then looking at them as though the colors would come off. “But no. You’ve still got plenty of work to do, and I think I just need a little rest. I’ll be fine. I promise. Stop looking at me like that.” She already felt weak, but she didn’t need anyone to confirm it. The pitiful glances from Spencer only made her feel sorry for herself.

  Gathering her purse, phone, and keys, Blue stepped out into the heat of the day. It was a relief against her clammy skin, and she closed her eyes as she got in her car. After driving a block with the windows down, the heat was too much and she flicked on the air conditioning. A loud whirring sounded from under the hood as a halfhearted stream of cool air filtered from the vents. She was glad it was only a short drive home, or she probably wouldn’t have been able to make it. Throwing herself down on the couch, Blue stared up at the ceiling and wondered just what the hell she was going to do.

  Chapter Eight

  Torque

  Torque rolled over and looked at the clock, but he didn’t really see it. The time of day hadn’t mattered for several weeks, and the days and nights had blurred together until he had to look at his phone to figure it out. His body had been damaged in that fight with Rat, and it had been a long road to recovery.

  That fateful night at Spencer’s Shop had been a surreal one. Torque had never before just given up and let someone beat him. If someone had asked him if he’d be willing to do such a thing, he would have laughed them off without a thought. But it had been different when he’d seen that gun pressed to Blue’s neck, and Torque would have done almost anything to get Rat to leave her alone. Blue had paid him back in the best way she knew how, but there had still been the matter of getting home.

  “Is there somewhere I can take you?” Blue had asked. Her hands had been clasped in front of her, twisting together uselessly as she stood near the front door of the shop. “A hospital, maybe?”

  “I don’t need it,” Torque had assured her. “I’ll be fine.”

  She had nodded, but the uncertainty had been clear on her face. “Okay, but you can’t ride your bike in this condition. Let me at least give you a ride.”

  It had been tempting. His body had hurt like hell, and his strength had almost been gone. But he had felt weak enough as Flame and Stubble had beat him, and he did have his pride. “I’ve ridden in worse conditions. I’ll be fine.” Torque had forgotten just how much of his body it required to ride a motorcycle. Once he’d made it back home, he had decided he would get in bed and never come out of it again.

  For the most part, that had been true. Acer, the club’s president, had sent a club girl up with his meals three times a day. Nobody bothered him about going out on rides or doing any business. Only Acer knew all the details of what had really happened, but all the members knew he’d been involved with the Dirty Bastards. The tension in the converted firehouse was thick as Satan Seed thought about revenge.

  Torque, however, could only really think about what it would be like to have his body functional again. Rat’s men had beaten him badly, and it probably hadn’t helped to have sex right afterwards. But he didn’t regret that part. Blue was the only other thing on his mind besides getting better again. She haunted his dreams with her strands of pale blue hair and her cobalt eyes, the scent of her body and the softness of her skin. Blue was a small woman with an innocent look about her, but she had ridden him with the confidence and ease of an experienced woman. She was like an image from a fantasy world, the kind of thing that couldn’t possibly be real.

  She was the one reason he’d thought about getting up and facing the world again. He wanted to head back to Spencer’s Shop, to make sure she was all right and that the Dirty Bastards hadn’t been harassing them again. But he was in no shape to defend her with his broken ribs and bruised lungs. Blue might have enjoyed his body that night, but he was too stiff and sore to be anything close to sexy. At the very least, he wasn’t going to let her see him in that state again.

  Still, he thought of her as he stretched his fingers back and ran them against the exposed brick wall behind his bed. He imagined what it would be like to have her on top of him, here in the clubhouse, riding him like she had in that tattoo chair. Torque would gladly take her in the middle of the afternoon, with the sun slanting in through the big windows and her blue hair bright against the white stamped tin of the ceiling. God, what he would give to get a hold of those breasts again, to dig his thumbs into her hipbones, to feel her sweet softness surrounding him. If the other men of the club had any idea what he’d had, they’d be so jealous.

  And if he had his way, he wouldn’t stop at just another quickie like they’d had before. He’d bend her over the bed and do her from behind, or lay her on the thick rug and grind his hips into her, or lift her so that he held her with her legs wrapped around his waist. He wanted to put his mouth on every square inch of her body, to take his time exploring it and making it his. It had been a shame, really, that their fling had been so brief.

  And he had convinced himself that it was just a fling. She’d been caught up in the moment of being saved by him. Blue didn’t really want a guy like him, and why should she? Blue had made it clear that she didn’t need another biker in her life; they had only hurt her before and she was convinced that a man like him would do it again. She was probably right. He was used to a life of freedom, without worrying about what some woman wanted from him.

  For a brief moment, though, he let his mind flick over to the thought of having something real with her. Torque had always been on his own. Even though he was part of one of the biggest motorcycle clubs in southern California, he’d never really felt as though he had a family. Even his parents, when they had still been around, had only had a distant role in his upbringing. He was on his own with a bunch of other people who were on their own as well. What might it be like to settle down with a girl like Blue? To know that she would come home to him every night, that they would do things as a couple like going out to eat or sleeping in on Saturdays. He could wake up in the morning and roll over to wrap his arm around her naked form. Torque would pull her close and ...

  No, he couldn’t think like that. Blue might as well be a figment of his imagination.

  The bedroom door swung open and Acer walked slowly in, his boots thumping against the hardwood floor. “It doesn’t matter how long you lie there, no woman is going to come to your bed just because you’re in it.”

  Torque grinned, glad to feel that his teeth no longer seemed loose and his lips didn’t bleed every time he moved them. “Wouldn’t that be the life?”

  Acer pushed up his sleeves, exposing the King and Queen of Hearts tattoos on each of his forearms. “What do you mean? It already is for me. I just lie back and let the women flock to me.” He put his arms out on either side of him.

  “Paid club girls don’t count. What do you want, anyway?”

  “What I want,” Acer said, “is for you to get out of this goddamn bed and come downstairs. I know you were hurt, but you’ve been milking this thing for way too long. It’s time to get up and face the world again.” He glared down at Torque, his gaunt face serious.

  Acer wasn’t the biggest man in the club, but the members took him seriously. Like Torque, he had been committed to the life of a biker since he was a kid. But his commitment had been a different one, serious and businesslike, that had allowed him to quickly move up in the ranks of Satan Seed and take over the presidency when the previous leader died.

  “Must be important if you came for me yourself.” Torque pushed himself up on his elbows and forced his body into a sitting position on the side of the bed. His head reeled and his muscles were tight. It was hard to breathe with gravity pushing down on him again. Maybe he really had been in bed too long.

  “It is. Go get a shower and wash your smelly ass, and then come downstairs and find me. We need to talk.” Acer stomped out of the room, the chain from his wallet jangling, and closed the door behind him.

  The hot water over his body felt good, even on his scabs and the remains of his bruises. His mind flashed back to that night at Blue’s house, when he had used her shower. It had seemed strange to step into a stranger’s bathroom, especially one full of girly soaps and lotions. But he had needed to wash the blood off his body, and even the stream of water hadn’t stopped him from thinking about the way Blue’s body had felt in his arms when he had carried her.

  Torque could have stood under the showerhead forever, but he knew Acer was waiting on him. He dressed and came out into the upper hallway, skipping the firepole that had been left when the place was converted to a clubhouse. He regretted his decision as his muscles complained all the way down the stairs. His knees and back were tight, making something he had always taken for granted seem like a challenge. At least the pole would have been faster.

  Acer was behind the bar. It was a custom job in solid oak and stained a deep red-brown, made to look as though it had come straight out of an old-fashioned pub in Ireland. The wall behind it had been painted black and hung with framed prints of pin-ups, vintage cars, and beer advertisements. The scattering of tables that surrounded the bar were empty. Music played faintly through the private bar, and the scent of coffee filled the air.

  “Busy place today,” Torque remarked as he limped up to the bar and pulled himself onto a stool. “Whatcha got for me?”

  “A big pot of black coffee.” The president filled a large mug and pushed it across the bar. “Drink it down quick, and I’ll pour another one.”

  “Things must be more serious that I thought.” Torque tossed back half the mug, feeling it burn a little on the way down. “I know they’re called coffee grounds, but that doesn’t mean you’re supposed to use actual dirt, man. Your coffee always tastes like mud.”

  “Does the job, though, doesn’t it?” Acer poured himself a mug and took a sip. He reached behind him for the sugar dispenser and sent a fountain of the white powder into the drink. “I need you awake and sober so we can talk about this business with the Dirty Bastards.”

  Torque ran a hand over his face and sighed. Acer had made him hash out the details almost as soon as he had returned from Spencer’s. It had been almost embarrassing, even though the president had no critical words for him. Torque wasn’t interested in talking about it anymore. “I told you everything. What more is there to know?”

  “I just have to be certain,” Acer explained. “War with a rival gang is a serious and dirty business. It’s not the kind of thing I like to enter into lightly. We’ll have some good stories to tell, but we’ll lose some men while we’re at it. I’d be much happier if we could just carry on with our own business and not have to worry about it. Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen.”

  Frowning, Torque took another slug of the black liquid and set the mug down on the wooden surface. Maybe he hadn’t quite heard right. “So we’re looking at war now? I don’t know that it’s worth it. I mean, the incident with Rat and his men was a mess, and I’d be happy to get a little revenge on him, but I don’t want it to get that big.” He couldn’t help but think of Blue. She didn’t like the biker life, and a war with another clan was about as biker as it got. Her opinion shouldn’t matter, but somehow it did even though she wasn’t there to hear what was going on. Most of all, he didn’t want her to get mixed up in this. She had played a big enough role already.

  Acer shook his head and looked down in his mug as he swished his drink around. “It already is. There was a shootout downtown last night.”

  Torque lifted his eyes from his mug and let the brew slide slowly down his throat. “You’re shitting me, right?”

  “I’m not. I don’t know yet if it was Rat who started it or if it was someone else, but the fact remains that the Bastards shot at us. Of course, we retaliated, but you and I both know things don’t just stop there. To make matters worse, a cop was caught in the crossfire and killed. I don’t even know if it was one of us or one of the Bastards who shot him, but the fact remains that he’s dead. We’ve got one hell of a mess on our hands, and we can’t just let it go.”

  Torque felt hollow. He had spent too long letting himself recover and imagining that his problems didn’t really exist. Ignoring Rat wasn’t going to make him go away, and he had a solid feeling that he had been the one to start the conflict by confronting Rat in the first place at the tattoo shop. The Bastard had only been temporarily satisfied by the beating, and it made sense that he would go after other members of Satan Seed. “So what’s the plan?”

  “There’s not much of one, right now,” Acer admitted. “Everyone is recovering from last night. I’ve got a couple of men upstairs with bullet wounds. They’ll heal, but it’ll take some time. I don’t want any other innocents to get caught up in this, so I’d like to just be prepared for the moment. When everyone has gotten some rest, we’ll get together and come up with a solid plan from there.”

  Innocents. Like Blue. “What do you need from me?”

  “Mostly? I just need you to heal up and be all right again so you’re back in the game.” Acer raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Think you can do that?”

  “Trust me. I’m already on it.” Torque chugged down the last of his coffee and stood up before Acer could pour any more.

  It felt good to be back on his bike again. He’d let his defeat by the Bastards get the best of him, and he only hoped it hadn’t been too much of a mistake. He rumbled out onto the street and hung a left to get to the right part of town. If Blue was at work, then he needed to find her and get her to safety. The Bastards were on the warpath, and it was likely she would be involved sooner or later. He’d never forgive himself if they’d already gotten to her.