Arrow's Hell Page 3

  Seriously? How many women does he sleep with?

  “Model-looking redhead. She has a tattoo on her right boob. A cherry, I believe,” I explain, ignoring Tracker’s amused chuckle.

  My brother’s eyes widen with realization. “Oh, Andrea.”

  “Yes, Andrea.”

  “What did she tell you?” he asks as he pours himself another drink.

  I shrug. “Nothing much, just how great a lover you are and how you have a kinky side because you like to—”

  He puts his hand over my mouth, cringing. “That bitch told you that?”

  “That and more,” I reply, my voice muffled under his hand. I cringe at the details she thought to share with me. How Rake likes to tie women up, their hands bound behind their back as he takes them from behind. Why? Just why would I want to know these things? I ended up walking away because she wouldn’t shut the hell up. It was that or punch her in the face. The angel on my shoulder won, and I retreated to pretend I’d never heard anything about my big brother’s sex life.

  “Bitch goes to college?” Tracker asks, laughing hard now. He slams his palm down on the countertop, his wide shoulders shaking.

  Rake pulls his hand away, so I turn to him. “No, she was picking up her stepson.”

  Silence, then more laughter.

  Assholes.

  Arrow walks by the bar, and my attention immediately turns to him. He doesn’t look up as he slams down his half-finished bottle, licking a last drop from his lips.

  “Arrow, you good?” Tracker asks, studying him.

  He lifts his face.

  Short brown hair, just long enough to run my fingers through.

  Light brown eyes framed in thick dark lashes. Firm, perfectly kissable lips, and that beard that I have fantasies about tugging on.

  “I’m good. You wanna head to Toxic?” he asks, eyes darting to me for a second before returning to Rake.

  “I’m with my sister,” Rake replies, in an Are you fucking serious? tone.

  Arrow looks directly at me. “I’m sure Anna won’t mind.”

  Toxic is a popular strip club, and from what I’d heard, a place Arrow likes to frequent on occasion. He is trying to unnerve me, to make me squirm and shy away. He is challenging me.

  I shrug. “Who doesn’t like boobs?”

  Was that a twitch of his lip I saw? I feel proud at making this stoic man almost smile.

  Almost.

  Rake turns to me with a Why me? look on his face he wears a lot since I’ve come home. I shrug at him. “What’s the real difference between a strip club and here?”

  Tracker starts laughing, and even Arrow looks amused.

  Rake, however, doesn’t. “I’m not going to a fucking strip club with my baby sister.”

  I roll my eyes. “Then drop me home on the way; I have to study tonight anyway.”

  He sighs and plays with his lip ring with his teeth. “Why don’t we hang out here a bit first? Or do you want to go out for dinner?”

  I smile gently—he really is trying. “Okay, dinner sounds good.”

  Tracker nods his head and gives me a look of approval. I really don’t get these men. They’re always giving one another shit, but at the same time always looking out for one another. I grew up around men who looked like them—rough, covered with tattoos and leather. But the men my mom dated didn’t act like them. Growing up without a father was hard. It sucked. Having a shit mom didn’t help, of course, but I always wondered what my life would be like if I’d had a good dad and not the men my mom brought home to try and fill her void. The sad truth is, besides Rake, I haven’t known many good men in my life. Maybe that’s why every relationship I’ve ever had has failed miserably.

  The Wind Dragons MC members are good men. I could tell that as soon as I met them, by the way they welcomed me into the family just because I was Rake’s sister. There were no questions asked—Rake was a brother, and by extension I was their family too. That was the moment I understood why Rake had turned to an MC lifestyle—it offered him the family we never really had growing up. I know the Wind Dragons aren’t saints by any means. They’re badass men, and I can only imagine the shit they get into, but they don’t mix me up in it and I get to come here and enjoy the perks of sexy men and good food. I simply feel safe here. I can’t explain it, I just do. Home is wherever Rake is. I missed him while I was away, some days wishing I’d never left. I know they probably do illegal shit, but to me they’ve been nothing but amazing. As long as I don’t see any women or children being hurt, I don’t really care what they get up to. I know that my brother wouldn’t get involved in anything too bad; he has a heart of gold.

  I turn my head to see Arrow watching me over the rim of his glass. Nice to see he decided to use one. “Who was the boy talking to you today after class?”

  I narrow my eyes. I feel my brother’s gaze on me, now curious.

  “A friend,” I reply. “Am I allowed to have those?”

  Tracker smirks. “You’ve got those.” He points to himself, and I can’t help but grin.

  “You don’t count.”

  He puts his hand over his heart in mock distress, then gives up the pretense and picks up his glass again.

  “If you’re going to date anyone,” Rake says, “I want to meet him before things get serious.”

  I purse my lips and stare at my brother with defiance in my eyes. “And why would I do that?”

  “Because I will let you know if he’s worthy of you or not,” he says in a casual tone, shrugging his broad shoulders.

  “And if he’s not . . .” Arrow adds, his brown eyes gleaming. “We will handle it.”

  We?

  We?

  Arrow wants to protect me when he spends most of his time ignoring me every time I’m around him? I don’t even know what to say right now, so for once, I shut my mouth.

  “No comment?” Rake asks, eyebrows raising.

  “I’m not dating anyone right now, so there’s nothing to discuss,” I reply as my eyes scan the room before landing on Arrow.

  I don’t miss the way his gaze darts to my breasts and then quickly away before he downs the rest of the gold liquid in his glass. He slams the glass down on the table with more force than necessary, then walks out of the room without another word.

  Okaaaaaay then.

  “How’s he doing?” Rake asks Tracker quietly.

  I lean closer to hear what they’re saying.

  “He’s angry. And still feeling guilty, I think. I hope he’ll come around,” Tracker tells my brother.

  Guilty? About what?

  Rake looks down. “Fuckin’ hope so. All he seems to be doing is drinking and fucking.”

  I grit my teeth at that, apparently not liking the thought of him with other women.

  He isn’t mine, I remind myself, yet it doesn’t soften the blow.

  “Sounds like an average Friday night,” Tracker adds with a smirk.

  They both laugh.

  I don’t.

  Rake finishes his drink, then looks over at me. “What do you wanna eat? I know this place close by that Faye always likes to go to.”

  Yeah, no, thanks.

  I raise an eyebrow that says You know exactly what I want to eat. Rake cringes and turns to Tracker. “Coming to grab a bite with us?”

  Tracker chuckles. “I just saw that look. What is she making you eat?”

  “Sushi. It’s always fuckin’ sushi,” he grumbles, scrubbing a hand down his jaw.

  I smile, loving that he remembers. “Don’t pretend you don’t love it.”

  He gives me a gentle look, then looks down into his empty glass.

  “All right then, let’s go and get you fed.”

  I slide off my stool and sling my handbag over my shoulder. Rake and Tracker start talking quietly, so I walk out front and stand next to Rake’s bike. When I hear steps behind me, I turn around, expecting to see my brother, but instead I stare into Arrow’s handsome face. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, just
studies me with a penetrating gaze. I start to shuffle my feet, feeling uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

  “Do I have something on my face or what?” I blurt out.

  He doesn’t look amused. “You with that guy I saw you with?”

  Not this again.

  “No, I told you I wasn’t.”

  He shrugs. “If you like him, you’ll stay away from him.”

  I scowl. “I don’t get you. You can’t tell me what to do, Arrow.”

  “Just stay out of trouble, Anna,” he says suddenly, narrowing his gaze a little.

  “Why do you care?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. He’s being downright chatty today. At least by his standards.

  He makes a soft scoffing sound and shakes his head. “I don’t. I’m just looking out for Rake. Last thing he needs is to worry about your spoiled ass.”

  Spoiled?

  I’m a lot of things—some of them not good—but none of them are spoiled.

  “Don’t pretend you know me,” I reply while staring him down. “I love my brother. I don’t know why you have a problem with me, but I don’t think it’s justified.”

  I don’t like the gleam that enters his eyes. “I’ve had grown men too scared to talk back to me.”

  I stand straighter. “I know you won’t hurt me. Rake wouldn’t allow it.”

  Arrow leans forward, his gaze lowering to my mouth. “You like talking to me. Why?”

  My eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

  “Every time I’m around you. You don’t ignore me. You keep yapping away like I’m your fuckin’ friend or something.”

  I purse my lips. “You are my friend.”

  Kind of.

  Sort of.

  Okay, not really.

  His lips quirk. “Don’t wanna be your friend, Anna, that’s the whole problem here.”

  Well. Okay. The man is honest. Wait, did he mean he just didn’t want to be my friend, or he wanted to be more than friends?

  My eyes widen at the possibility.

  “Whatever you’re thinking right now, you need to stop.”

  “Why do you go to Toxic so much?” I blurt out, wanting to know. There are always available women in the clubhouse, and it’s not like he couldn’t get anyone he wanted.

  “Women there know what to expect,” he replies, looking away from me.

  “To expect?”

  He nods sharply. “They get what they want, and I get what I want. Problem solved. I’m not looking for anything, Anna.”

  “Oh,” I reply, feeling stupid.

  His finger reaches out and runs down my cheek. I suck in a breath as our eyes connect, confused by what I see there.

  Desire.

  “You’re beautiful, do you know that? If I was another man, I would be all over you.”

  So many questions flash through my mind. Why only if he was another man? Why not now?

  I open my mouth, trying to think of a reply, when Rake walks out. Arrow instantly drops his hand from my face and steps away. Rake slaps Arrow on the back in a friendly gesture, then walks over to me.

  “Let’s do this,” he says, handing me a helmet. “But next time I get to choose the place.”

  I smile, forgetting about Arrow and enjoying Rake’s playful mood. “Deal.”

  THREE

  I WHISTLE. “Lana, you look smoking hot!”

  My best friend turns in a circle, shaking her ass a little as she faces away from me, causing me to break out in giggles. At five foot two, Lana is tiny but curvy in all the right places. She runs her blue-tipped fingernails through her thick dark hair, courtesy of her Greek heritage.

  “Thank you,” she replies in her sweet voice, pulling up her strapless black dress. “I’ll start on my makeup while you get in the shower.”

  By makeup, she means mascara and eyeliner. It’s the only thing she puts on her face—not that she needs it.

  I force myself to get off my soft leather couch. “I can’t believe it’s you dragging me out tonight.”

  What a change of events.

  Lana grins. “You’ve made me go out every weekend since you got back, and now I find myself enjoying it.”

  “Good,” I tell her, my lips twitching. “I better get my ass ready then.”

  “Yes, you better,” Lana replies, fiddling with her dark locks once more. “I thought we could check out a couple of bars, broaden our horizons.”

  I blink. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

  Lana hates change. She always has.

  We’ve been friends since kindergarten. I have a picture of us together on my bedside table, wearing hideous dresses and hugging each other at the tender age of four. We stayed friends even when I left town, keeping in touch via e-mail and phone. She’s the best friend any girl could ask for. She’s honest, loyal, and sweet and has always been there for me when I’ve needed her. She has a kindness about her that people seem to gravitate toward, and I was no exception. Growing up, I needed that kindness, that softness. My mother’s addiction meant that more often than not, Adam and I were left to fend for ourselves. Sometimes my mother would forget to pack us lunch and we were left to go hungry. I would meet Lana at school, and she would share her food with me, without comment or judgment. She really is a shining star.

  “I just need a distraction right now,” she mutters so quietly I almost don’t hear it.

  My head snaps to her. “From what? What’s wrong?”

  She sighs and pins me with her dark eyes. “Nothing is wrong, it’s just . . .”

  “What?”

  She bites her bottom lip, hesitating. “Promise you will never repeat this.”

  “You know I won’t.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about Tracker,” she blurts out, then covers her face with her hands.

  My eyes widen. Lana has met Tracker twice now, both at times when my brother has sent him to keep an eye on me.

  “I knew it!” I yell, doing my victory dance, which consists of jumping up and down and shaking my booty.

  Lana winces at my loudness and sighs. “Tell me how stupid I am.”

  “You’re not—”

  “He’s taken,” she says, counting one finger. “He’s a biker.” Another finger.

  “Hey! So is my brother,” I add, smirking.

  “Anna! He’s the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, and I’m sick of thinking about him. Time to move on. Out with the old and in with the new,” she says animatedly, smoothing down her dress.

  “So that’s why you’re wearing the smallest piece of clothing I’ve ever seen you in and want to go out and party?” I ask, blinking slowly a few times. “Lana, you’re gorgeous. If Tracker wants to stay with someone like Allie, then that’s his loss. There are plenty of men out there who would love to call you their own.”

  Coming from someone who only wants a man who barely looks at me.

  I’m such a hypocrite.

  Lana laughs, and I wait for her to call me out on that comment, but she doesn’t. She just smiles at me and says, “You’re right. There are plenty of men out there.”

  Lana knows about my crush on Arrow, she has to know, but she doesn’t tease me about it. Knowing Lana, she’s waiting for me to bring it up, waiting until I’m ready to talk about it. She’s good that way, very patient, but I haven’t missed the knowing looks she flashes me when I talk about him.

  I take a quick shower and stand in front of the mirror, naked, to put on my makeup. A brown smoky eye makes my green eyes pop, and matched with a nude lip it doesn’t look like too much. I flat-iron my hair so it’s dead straight, then add some hair spray for a little volume on top. Deciding to go with a pair of black skintight skinny jeans and a black backless top, I slide my feet into my red pumps and spray a little perfume.

  “You look amazing,” Lana says as I walk out into the living room. She’s put some music on and is pouring us drinks.

  “Thanks,” I reply, taking the seat opposite her. I pick up the glass. “To a good n
ight!”

  “To a good night,” she repeats, and the glasses chime as we clink them together. I take a sip of the vodka and blackberry juice, then smile at my best friend.

  “Why do I have a feeling we’re going to get into some trouble tonight?” I ask with a raised brow.

  “Because you’re you.”

  “Hey! I’m a well-respected, educated woman—”

  She cuts me off with her laughter. “Yes, I know. Biological science specializing in zoology, you’re a huge nerd.”

  “Like you can speak,” I reply, grinning. Lana is even smarter than me. I smile when she puts on her glasses, turning her sexy look cute. She’s practically blind without her glasses, and I’m glad she’s bringing them.

  “I’ll call a cab,” I announce.

  “Way ahead of you, Anna Bell, I already called one.”

  “Oh, come on, not you too,” I complain.

  She lifts her shoulder in a shrug. “It’s catchy.”

  “Yeah, because it came out of Tracker’s mouth,” I reply, smirking at her.

  She gasps and pushes her glasses farther up on her nose. “That is so not why!”

  “Is too.”

  “Is not.”

  A horn beeps, interrupting our argument, the same childish words we’ve been using since we were four. We grab our purses, everything else forgotten, lock the front door, and slide into the back of the cab.

  “What’s the first stop on our pub crawl?” I ask her.

  “Knox’s Tavern,” she replies, glancing down at her phone. I tell the cab driver where to go and relax back on the seat, enjoying the slight buzz from the vodka. When we arrive, the bouncer asks for our IDs, which, at twenty-five, is a compliment. A song I’ve never heard before is playing, and I move to the beat as we walk up to the bar. I sigh as I realize we will be waiting here for some time, the line to get drinks is that long.

  “This place is packed,” Lana says, looking around. “It’s pretty awesome though.”

  I nod. “It is.”

  Fifteen minutes later I’m giving our drinks order to one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen in my life. He has a scar on his face, but it doesn’t take away his masculine appeal.

  “Two vodkas with blackberry juice, please.”

  “We don’t have blackberry juice,” he replies, leaning forward and flashing me an odd look. Does no one order that here?