Own the Wind Read online

  “You’re not in high school anymore, Tabby,” he pointed out, and felt her eyes come to him but he kept his angry ones on the road.

  “You’re right,” she snapped, the quiet in her voice gone. “I’m not. That doesn’t mean they aren’t still my friends. We’ve had a lot of good times together. We’re close. What? You think I should just scrape them off?”

  He didn’t glance at her when he replied, “Uh, yeah, Tab. They’re trash. You aren’t. Jesus.” He shook his head. “I do not get you. I know your mom’s a bitch, but for the last three years you’ve had Cherry in your life. It isn’t like you don’t have a good role model. Why the fuck you can’t be like her is beyond me.”

  He heard her swift intake of breath before she returned, “Maybe it’s because I should be like me and, by the way, Shy, Tyra would want me to be like me too.”

  The members of the Club called Tack’s woman Cherry but Tack called her Red. His kids and everyone else called her Tyra or Ty-Ty.

  “Anyway,” Tabby went on irately, “they’re not trash.”

  “They’re trash,” he stated firmly.

  “They. Are. Not!” she stated loudly.

  There it was. That gave him his opening.

  “You want that life?” he asked.

  “That life?” she shot back.

  “Booze and bodies, booty calls and bust-ups,” he explained.

  “Um… hello, Shy. That is my life.”

  “So you want it,” he concluded.

  She ignored his question and pointed out, “It’s your life too, you know. Nothing wrong with it. Never was, never will be.”

  A nursing student.

  Right.

  On this path, she’d never make it. On this path, she’d end up like those bitches in his bed. On this path, Tabby was pissing her college education away, and Tack might as well be pissing that money into the wind.

  “You want that life,” he said softly, “you think that’s cool, baby? Then let’s roll.”

  It was perfect timing because he’d flipped on his turn signal to turn into Ride.

  “What the hell? Why are we here?” she asked, but he didn’t answer.

  He drove around the store and through the forecourt of the garage to park in front of the Compound. He didn’t delay in folding out of the truck, rounding the hood, and yanking open her door.

  “Shy, what are you—?” she started but stopped since he leaned into her, undid her seatbelt, tagged her hand, and hauled her out of the cab. “Dammit! Shy! What are you doing?” she clipped.

  Again he didn’t answer. He just tugged her into the Compound and straight behind the bar. He nabbed a bottle of tequila off a shelf at the back then pulled her in front of him.

  “Ready to let go of that little-girl-beer bullshit?” he asked, holding up the bottle.

  Her eyes went to it then to him. He saw the confusion and he sensed her unease.

  He ignored that too.

  “Tab, asked you a question. You like to party. You aren’t in high school anymore. You wanna grow up and learn how it’s really done?”

  She ignored him this time and asked, “Why are you being so weird?”

  He pulled her closer and tipped his chin down to hold her eyes, now ignoring that it was starkly apparent she wasn’t breathing and her body had gone still.

  “Didn’t answer my question, baby,” he said softly and watched her swallow then lick her upper lip.

  Jesus. Shit.

  He’d never seen her do that. Definitely not this close.

  The tip of that pink tongue on the perfection of that rosy lip.

  Shit.

  “Tab,” he prompted, his hand squeezing hers.

  “I want to go home,” she replied quietly, being smart for a change.

  “Too late for that,” he muttered then moved away, pulling her with him as he moved from behind the bar, through the room, and into the back hall.

  She tugged at his hand and called, “Shy. Seriously. You’re more than kinda freaking me out.”

  Hopefully, in about two seconds, she’d be a lot more than kinda freaked out. She’d be scared straight and out of this bullshit she kept pulling.

  Therefore, two seconds later, he yanked her into his room, tugged her to a stop and flipped the light switch.

  The two women were still naked, lying head to foot on the bed, having, since he was gone, tangled with each other.

  Briefly, he tried to remember their names.

  He stopped trying when he felt Tabby’s hand spasm in his and she gave a rough pull to try to break away but he just held her tighter and turned to her.

  “Usually, we throw some back, get loose, in the mood,” he educated her, lifting up the bottle. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, baby, so if you wanna just get naked and go for it, I’m up for that too. They’re out but, we go for a while, no doubt they’ll rally and join in. Sounds extreme but, trust me, you try it, you’ll like it.”

  When he started talking, her eyes were on the bed but they moved slowly to him and he saw she was pale beneath her tan. Her eyes were also wide with shock and something else he didn’t quite get, and her full lips were parted.

  “What’s it gonna be?” he asked. “You wanna loosen up or you wanna just go for it?”

  “Why are you doin’ this?” she whispered, and Shy shrugged.

  “This is who you are or who you’re headin’ to be. Might as well quit fuckin’ around, babe, and go for it.”

  Her eyes slid to the side then to him before she stated quietly, “This isn’t who I am.”

  He looked her down and up and pointed out, “Short tight skirts, too-tight tops. I know it’s not lost on you that I can see most of your tits not only through the shirt but spillin’ out of it, Tab. Then we got your high heels, lots of hair, lots of makeup. You scream you got a wild side, baby. Quit fuckin’ around. You been wantin’ to explore it since you were sixteen. The time is right. The stage is set.” He pulled her closer to him and lifted the bottle again. “Let’s go.”

  When he said the word sixteen, she flinched and her hand jerked at his again.

  Also, the look in her eyes he couldn’t quite place came clear.

  Hurt.

  It sucked. He didn’t like to do this to her, but he reckoned that emotion stark in her gaze meant he was getting through.

  “Take me home,” she said softly, and he shifted closer to her

  She swung slightly back, but her movements were wooden.

  “Come on, baby. Don’t bullshit me,” he coaxed in a gentle voice. “I’ve seen the looks you give me. Now’s your shot. You’re hot, you like to have fun, you shouldn’t waste this opportunity.”

  “Take me home,” she repeated.

  “If you don’t want an audience or this to be a participation sport outside us two, I can rouse those bitches—” he jerked his head to the bed “—send them on their way before we get goin’.”

  “Take me home,” she said again.

  “Or we can let ‘em sleep. Go to your dad’s room,” he suggested, and that did it.

  With a violent wrench, she tore her hand from his, turned on her foot, and raced from the room.

  Much more slowly, Shy put the bottle on a dresser, snapped off the lights, and followed her. He wasn’t alarmed. She didn’t have wheels and she was in high heels, there wasn’t far she could go.

  Surprisingly, when he exited the Compound, she was sitting in the passenger side of his truck, her head turned to look out the side window.

  Yeah, she was ready to go home.

  He didn’t delay in moving to the driver’s side, climbing in and starting her up. Tabby didn’t look his way as he reversed out and headed toward Broadway.

  They were well on their way through Denver to the foothills where Tack and Cherry lived, where Tab still lived with them and their two new boys before he spoke into the heavy air in the cab.

  “You’re a good kid, Tabby. Don’t let your mother treating you like shit kick your ass. Get off that path.�
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  “You’re on that path,” she whispered to her window.

  “Babe, I’m not. I’m a man and I got brothers. I chose a lifestyle and a brotherhood. It’s different for you and you know it. The bullshit you’re pullin’, the path you’re on, no joke, even if you wanted the life, wanted to be an old lady, that wouldn’t work for you no matter what respect we got for your dad. The path you’re on heads you straight to bein’ a BeeBee, and you know that too.”

  She didn’t speak but Shy figured his point was made. Tabby knew BeeBee, everyone did. BeeBee had been banned from spreading her legs and spreading her talent throughout every member of the Club after she stupidly went head to head with Cherry. But even gone, she was not forgotten. Back then, Tabby had been way too young to know BeeBee in any real way other than seeing the way BeeBee hung on and put out. But there was no way to miss her use to the Club, even for a teenage girl.

  His point made, he also kept quiet the rest of the way to Tack’s house.

  He parked outside the front door and she instantly undid her seat belt and threw open the door. He turned to see she’d twisted to jump out and opened his mouth to say something, but he didn’t get it out. He had no idea how she explained it to her father when a brother brought her home, but that was her problem, not his.

  She turned back and all words died in his throat when he saw by the cab’s light the tears shimmering in her eyes and the tracks left by the ones that had slid silently down her cheeks.

  His body went rock solid at the evidence of the pain his lesson caused. Deserved, he knew, but it still hurt like a mother to witness. So when she leaned in, he didn’t move away.

  “You don’t know me,” she whispered. “But now, I know you, and, Shy… you’re a dick.”

  Even with these words, she still lifted her hands, placed them on either side of his head and angled closer. Pressing her lips against his, that sweet, pink tongue of hers slid between his lips to touch the tip of his tongue before she let him go just as quickly as she’d grabbed hold. She jumped out of the cab and ran gracefully on the toes of her high-heeled sandals up the side deck and into the house.

  Shy had shifted to watch her move, his chest and gut both ablaze, the brief but undeniably sweet taste of her still on his tongue.

  The light on the side of the house went off, and he was plunged into darkness.

  “Shit,” he muttered before he put the truck in gear and turned around.

  As he drove home, he couldn’t get her tear-stained cheeks and wet eyes out of his head.

  He also couldn’t get her taste off his tongue.

  * * *

  Five months later…

  The bell over the door of Fortnum’s Used Books rang as Shy pushed it open.

  Shy came to Fortnum’s for one reason, and it wasn’t to buy used books. It was because they had a coffee counter and seating area in the front of the store, and everyone in Denver knew that the man named Tex who worked the espresso machine was a master. Shy liked beer, bourbon, and vodka, occasionally tequila, sometimes Pepsi, but with the way he lived his nights, his mornings always included a whole lot of coffee.

  Tex’s eyes came to him as he moved through the tables and armchairs scattered in front of the espresso counter and he boomed a “Yo, travelin’ man! Usual?”

  Shy jerked up his chin in the affirmative, but something caught his attention from the side, and he looked that way to see Tabby sitting at the round table tucked in the corner.

  The fire hit his chest.

  She had books and notepads stacked around, two empty coffee cups on the table, one half full. She was bent over a book, elbow on the table, hand in her mane of hair at the top of her head, holding it away from her face. Her concentration was on a book and a notepad in front of her, pencil in hand.

  He hadn’t seen her since that night he gave her the lesson and took her home. She wasn’t a regular at Ride or at the Compound, but she was around. She was tight with Cherry; they went shopping together a lot, and Tabby met Cherry there when they went. Sometimes she studied in the office while Cherry worked. She was tight with some of the brothers, particularly Tack’s lieutenants, Dog and Brick, and Big Petey, one of the founding members who took a break from the Club for a few years to go be with his daughter while she was fighting cancer. He came back when she lost that fight and Tab, being how Tab could be and growing up with Big Petey, moved in to balm that hurt. So it wasn’t unheard of to see her shooting the shit with Pete opposite the counter inside the auto supply store, teasing him by his Harley Trike in the forecourt or sitting close with him and talking on one of the picnic tables outside the Compound.

  Then, for five months, she’d disappeared. Not a sign of her. Shy wasn’t on Chaos every minute of his day but when he was, she wasn’t there.

  She hadn’t been to one of the three hog roasts they’d had. She didn’t even go to the party they threw when they took on their new recruits, Snapper and Bat.

  And there hadn’t been another Tabby Callout since that night.

  Now here she was, studying. Business was bustling and Tex seemed to need to make as much noise as possible when forcing a coffee drink out of the espresso machine, and yet she didn’t look around or break concentration at all.

  And, Shy thought, there it was. He’d made his point. She’d learned her lesson. Focus on the shit that mattered. She was taking the opportunity her father was offering to set herself up with a good life, getting control of that wild side and cleaning the trash out of her life.

  He paid the knockout redhead named Indy who owned the place for his drink, got it from Tex at the other end of the counter and moved to Tab’s table.

  He pulled out the seat opposite her and twisted it around to straddle it, saying softly, “Yo, babe,” before her body jerked with surprise and her head came up.

  Her eyes hit him and he saw something that made him uneasy flash through them before she shut it down. Her face went blank, and her eyes slid through the room before coming back to him.

  “What’re you doin’ here?” she asked quietly.

  He lifted his to go cup. “Coffee. Best in town. Come here all the time.”

  She looked at his cup then at the two coffee mugs on the table in front of her before her fingers slid through her hair and she straightened in her chair.

  When Shy recovered from watching her thick, shining hair move through her fingers and he realized she wasn’t speaking, he asked, “Studying?”

  Her gaze went to her books like she’d never seen them before, it came back to him and she answered, “Yeah. I’ve got two tests this week.”

  “Harsh,” he muttered, though he wouldn’t know. He’d never studied for tests. The fact that somewhere in the junk in his apartment was a high school diploma was a miracle.

  “Yeah,” she agreed. “I need to get back to it.”

  “What?” he asked.

  She looked down at her books, turned her pencil in her hand and tapped the eraser end to her notepad before repeating, “I need to get back to it.”

  “You don’t want company,” he surmised.

  “Um… I have two tests. I have a lot of work to do.”

  Shy nodded then asked, “You come here a lot?”

  That sweet, pink tongue came out to touch her upper lip, the burn in his chest magnified before her tongue disappeared and she answered, “No, just trying out places where I can get my studying groove on. It gets a little insane at home.”

  “The boys,” Shy guessed. She had two new brothers: Rider, who just turned three, and Cutter, who was one, meant home was not where she could get that particular groove on.

  “Yeah, they’re little kids but they’re also Allens, so things can get rowdy,” she muttered.

  He heard Tex banging on the espresso machine, and he knew Fortnum’s could get a little insane too.

  Thinking that, thinking that it was cool Tabby was finally focused on the right things, and trying not to think about how much or why he’d like her at his place, he o
ffered, “You need space, babe, I got an apartment. I’m never in it. Can’t say it’s clean but it is quiet.”

  “Thanks, but I’m good.”

  He pushed up from the chair, righting it at the table, saying, “Anytime, Tab, you need it, it’s yours. Just give me a call.”

  She nodded, swallowed then mumbled, “Later,” to his shoulder before she looked back down to her books, curling in her chair, slouching back to her elbow, hand back in her hair.

  It was the swallow, the mumbling, and the talking to his shoulder that drove Shy to round the table, lift a hand, and pull her hair away from her face.

  Her head jerked back as her eyes shot to him.

  “We good?” he asked.

  “Sure,” she answered, too quickly.

  “You sure about that?” he pressed.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked back, too casually.

  “Babe, the last time I saw you was extreme.” His eyes went to the table then back to her. “I see you got my point but it’d be cool to know we’re good.”

  “We’re good,” she assured him, again, quickly.

  He studied her face. It was carefully vacant.

  He didn’t know her all that well, but he’d been around her often enough to know Tabitha Allen was never expressionless.

  Fuck.

  He let it go and reiterated, “You need my place, babe, just yell.”

  “I’ll do that, Shy,” she replied quietly.

  He jerked up his chin.

  She turned so her back was to him and slouched back over her books.

  Shy walked out of Fortnum’s feeling that familiar burn. Except it wasn’t in his gut this time.

  It was around his heart.

  She never called to use his space.

  She never called at all.

  And he never again saw her at Fortnum’s.

  * * *

  Six months later…

  Shy sat outside the Compound on top of one of the picnic tables, feet on the seat, legs spread, elbows to his thighs, bottle of beer held loosely in his hands, watching.

  Tabby was on Chaos for the first time in nearly a year. She was walking out of the office and down the steps, Rider’s hand in hers as she steadied him while he struggled to get his little legs to negotiate the stairs. She had Cut on her hip, and Shy could see Cut was slamming his little fist into her cheek as she walked.