Page 12 of Kiss My Sass

“Come on, spill,” the redheaded firebrand said.

Ariella, Tracey, and Gwen were there, too. All the women looked concerned, and like they wanted to help. Tears pricked Nica’s eyes, and before she knew it, she’d spilled. Likeeverything.

“Look, no matter how much you liked or felt sorry for those two women, Ella and Denise, you were right to refuse to become like them,” Tracey remarked, her brows furrowed in anger, but not at Nica.

“They’re just Jack’s possessions,” Gwen added, but she was more upset than she was judging them, Nica could tell.

“Ella was sick when I got away. I feel bad, like I abandoned them,” she confessed.

“No, that is not on you. You had to do what you needed to survive,” Ariella replied, her hand on Nica’s arm, reassuring her. “I don’t know anything about the way Murders are run, but my sisters and I would have torn those Crow males limb from limb. I am glad you got away, Nica, no matter how you did it.” The Lioness nodded, and the others seemed to agree.

“Oh my, thank you all so much. I mean, I never had a lot of friends growing up, but I always imagined what it would be like, and you ladies are blowing it out of the water,” she said, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Hell, honey, we like you too,” Sheila replied, and Nica felt her own wobbly smile on her face in return.

“Are they dangerous, though?” Gwen asked, and Nica could not dishonor her new friends with a lie.

“Yes. Crows are dangerous, but not in the same way you and your mates are. Oh, they are plenty strong, but worse than brute strength is how they think. You see, Crows are wily, sneaky, and cruel. Very, very cruel,” she replied and worried her lower lip.

They divvied up the last of the mozzarella sticks before break time was over. The next half hour went by quickly, and she mulled over what the Pack females had said. Maybe she was wrong to feel guilty. One thing she knew, this was like a second chance for her, and she was wasting it being idle. She had to speak to Thor.

Sooner than she knew it, closing time approached and Nica was wiping down the bar while most of the Pack males were still inside the Alpha’s office. She moved on with her spray and rag, cleaning every available surface in the bar, and was just tying up the trash bag when she saw them leaving. Of course, her eyes zeroed in on him.

Thor Ulger came out of Derrick’s office, oozing confidence, and barely muted fury. His face was normally a mask, hiding all of his emotions—assuming he had any. And tonight, that assumption was correct.

Nica gasped as he walked into the room. She could practically feel his rage, and it was stunning in its purity. His dark eyes flicked to hers for one poignant moment, and it was like he sucked all the air out of the room before he mercifully looked away.

She inhaled, hardly aware she was trembling till she looked down at the spray bottle in her hand. Forcing herself to be still, she placed it on the table nearest her. Music played low in the background, some hip-hop song one of the guys played while they cleaned up. But Nica couldn’t name the song or the artist, how could she? When Thor walked into a room, the man simply commanded all of her attention. Every. Last. Bit of it. Like he was a superstar or politician or something.

There was never any opportunity to go to concerts or the big city, despite being so close. Not for Nica, anyway. But she imagined this was how she would have reacted to seeing one of her favorites up on stage or maybe in passing outside of some posh little café in the Village. Her reactions, of course, were grossly embarrassing.

Nica got tongue-tied and turned into a quivering mess whenever Thor was in the same room as her. Liquid pooled between her legs, and her nipples turned into pebbles. She didn’t know why or how to stop it. All she knew was that when he was near, her stomach tensed, breathing grew erratic, and she felt hot all over, like her skin was too tight. Something sparked, and it spread through her veins like molten lava. Even her clothes irritated the hell out of her. It was sort of like when she needed to shift, but different.

Yes, different, her Raven pushed the thought at her, and she exhaled slowly.

Thor was gone. She didn’t have to look up to know that for sure. Nica could tell he’d left by the ease with which she took her next breath. Of all the males in the Dire Wolf MC, Thor was the only one who made her chest feel tight and the baby hairs on the back of Nica’s neck stand up whenever he was near. Her inner Raven watched him, always. But her animal had always been more curious than was good for her. Still, she knew what she saw, and she knew it was bad.

Jack had found her. The Crow King and his men had tracked her to Serious Moonlight. To Thor and his Pack. Damn it. It was time for her to run again. But she couldn’t go yet, not without knowing what the evil man said to Thor about her.

Usually, her hearing was good enough that the distance wouldn’t have mattered, but the bar had been crowded and their speech too low for her ears. Her Raven croaked deep and low, this time the sound was anything but content. Grabbing her courage, she rushed out the side door.

Determination filled her. She needed to track Thor to find out what happened before she took her next steps towards freedom from that horrible Crow. Only, she’d sort of forgotten the very real physical reactions she had when she was near him and rushed to the building where she sensed he’d gone.

“C-can I talk to you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Nica should have put something on, a sweatshirt maybe, anything to cover herself up. She was highly aware of the low-cut t-shirt she’d worn to tend bar and the fact it revealed way more skin than she was used to showing off. But it was too late now. Nica shivered involuntarily, hovering by the open door of the enormous garage that sat on the other side of the parking lot across from the bar.

Actually, it was a barn the Pack had converted into their own personal garage. A place where they could work on the dozens of motorcycles they owned, and usually displayed in front of the roadhouse to attract other enthusiasts. It was nothing like the Murder’s old trailer park or the shack where she’d spent so many nights in her bird form. Her stomach was all clenched up tight, and she wondered where she had finally found the nerve to approach him.

Meek, weak, small, insignificant thing. Who are you to bother him?

She closed her eyes to quiet those ugly voices inside her head. Jack and the Murder had loved to break down any female who dared speak out. Especially the ones who turned down offers to share their beds. They’d called her stuck up and conceited, a cock tease who needed to be broken. They just couldn’t even see the real problem was with themselves. She shivered again, hating the idea of going back.

No. I won’t go.

They’d have to kill her first, she vowed with renewed determination. Thor still hadn’t looked up from what he was doing, but she’d seen him these past weeks and knew he would answer in his own time. The man simply would not be rushed.

That was okay. She could wait. Besides, she enjoyed looking around at all the bikes and parts. It sure didn’t smell like any garage she had ever seen. Not that there had been many. To Nica, it looked like some sort of motorcycle museum.

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