Page 78 of Desert Heat

Sighing, I stuffed a snow-white ski cap on my head complete with a faux-fur pompom on top. My skin’s tan after years soaking up the desert sun. A quick coat of gloss slicked on my lips and a check in the mirror confirmed what I already knew.

I was not an Outlaw Princess out here. I had transformed into a well-dressed, dare I say, hot as fuck college girl. But I still wore my beloved desert jewelry fashioned with chunky turquoise stones. Ring’s made of silver mined from the desert I liked to wear in stacks on my fingers.

No hint of the wild that lived inside me showed in my designer winter clothes. No one would guess of the shit I’ve seen and lived. No preppy as fuck frat boy could ever get me. I swallowed hard.

He got me.

I climbed into the rear seat of Dean’s shiny snowmobile and wrapped my arms around his muscular back. Fuck River with his new piece.

I spent the rest of the night going shot for shot with Dean and his boys while frat boys and jocks competed for my attention. The girls narrowed their eyes all wondering what it was that I had. The answer was easy.

Zero fucks.

I downed the rest of my drink. My fingers were past numb; my cheeks, too. The alcohol burned as it went down. I threw my head back to gaze at the mid-winter sky.

The stars shone like diamonds just like they did above the desert. I missed home. Missed the fine silt of red dust that would somehow make its way through the cracks between doors. Missed the howl of a lone coyote wandering through the brush.

I missed the men–even the friggin’ pencil-necked pledge who annoyed me to no end. But going home to the dustbowl town somewhere between Vegas and Tijuana wasn’t an option.

It was a war zone. It turns out Linc pissed off the Cartels controlling the border using our Club’s name leaving a real shit show behind.

Little did Dad know the battle had followed me north. But River left my life as suddenly as he had appeared.

He knew I’d never snitch on myself. Telling your father you lost your V-card to the young hotheaded Prez of our rival MC would wound him more than a bullet ever could.

River knew that.

River and his Bastard crew were gunning hard, trying to take back everything Dad and the Outlaws took from them while their Prez was on his babymoon and my father hiding out in Canada. It took about six months for River to straighten most of his mess out.

Tarak was a legend.

Maybe he still is but love made him soft and I get that now. Never will I let my guard down again.

“Savvy? Are we going to do another round or am I taking you home?” Dean cocked a brow. I popped a shoulder. “How about a shot and then you take me home.”

“My place, or yours?”

My boots crunched in the snow, stopping when their tips kissed his. Slowly I lifted my index finger, running it up the inside of his half-unzipped ski coat. “My old man would kill you and you know it.”

His eyes hooded as he bent his head. A breath away from my lips he groaned. “You just might be worth dying for.”

I wish I could melt for him. Truly I did. But someone else had beat him to it. Snaked his River way into my heart and soul then like a swift current, he vanished somewhere downstream with it.

The starlight reflected off the freshly fallen snow as Dean navigated through the woods back to my rental. I looked up through the barren limbs of tall trees finding the North star. I laughed at myself for once believing stars could truly grant wishes.

“Night, Savvy.”

“Night, Dean.”

“I’m going to clear the inside and check the perimeter before I go. Two men will watch like always.”

I shrugged, gave him a peck on the cheek and took off my coat. What was there to say when the enemy had already been inside the gates?

After I took a hot shower and put on fleece-line pajamas, I went for the burner phone I kept plugged in beside my bed.

Hey…

What’s up beautiful?

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