SPARTAN (Iron Kings MC, #2) Read online

  As I stuffed my workout clothes into my gym bag and swung it over my shoulder, my phone buzzed in my jacket pocket.

  Pushing out of the bathroom, I pulled it out to see a text from Spartan.

  2.3 miles out. Stopped for gas.

  I smiled to myself as I put my phone away. He was so precise with things, it was cute. He’d told me it was a side effect from his military training and he’d lived that way ever since. I guess he had to, being the formidable leader of such a revered and respected motorcycle club. Too many people were counting on him, so he had to be on the ball in a major way.

  I made my way across the lobby and through the exit, out into the parking lot. It was still so strange seeing it empty. Whenever I’d come to Ricky’s in the past, it’d always been packed full of vehicles. The gym was a popular place. It was in a central location for the many small towns located in and around the area, including Ridgefield.

  Making my way to my car, which had been happily running again for the last couple of days, thanks to the great and speedy work of Tricks, I intended to drop my gym bag off in the trunk. Spartan and I had planned to ride to the movie theatre on his bike.

  But I stopped short at an ear-piercing screech of tires burning rubber.

  Moments later, a once-familiar van tore into the lot.

  Oh my God.

  It was Psycho.

  He’d found me.

  Again.

  What the hell did it take?

  I’d gone to major lengths to keep off his radar, lengths that’d stripped so much from me.

  The van came to a jarring stop in the middle of the area.

  All four doors opened and he climbed out.

  Don Wakefield.

  The bane of my existence.

  A disgraced former big-time contractor.

  As if I hadn’t been freaked out enough by the sight of him right here in my presence, three muscle-bound guys followed out of the van after him.

  My whole body shook with surging adrenaline, a shudder rolling down my spine as he caught my eye and stomped toward me, his muscle following on his heel.

  I took him in.

  His dark brown eyes looked glazed and as fucked-up as the rest of him. His hair was a wild mess and had grown several inches down to his shoulders since the last time I’d run into him. His overgrown stubble was moving into beard territory now. His worn, ripped black jeans and his white tee beneath a dirtied denim jacket had seen better days. He was still wearing steel-toe work boots even though he was no longer a contractor.

  “Daniella,” he greeted me, his strung-out gaze raking over me in a lewd way.

  “Stop this, Don.”

  “This cat and mouse game is getting really old for me too. But you aren’t giving me a choice with your non-stop running.”

  “Stop chasing me. It’s over. Just leave me alone!”

  I made a break for it, running for my car over on the other side of the lot.

  The heavy thump of boots sounded behind me.

  I pulled my keys out of my jacket, firing the fob at the car, unlocking it as I went.

  I was inches out from grabbing the door handle when one of them snagged the shoulder of my jacket.

  An instinct I’d never felt before took me over and I just reacted, all Finn’s intensive training kicking in seemingly automatically.

  I jerked forward and spun, effectively pulling out of my jacket.

  A stupid-ass stunned expression played on Muscle One’s face and I took advantage of his confusion, pulling hard on the other end of the jacket, turning it into an improvised weapon to jerk him into me hard. Before he hit, I let go, jumped out of the way and he slammed into the side of my car. I fisted my hand in the back of his greasy hair and smashed his face into the metal. As he was reeling from that, I kicked at the backs of his knees. His legs buckled and he hit the ground in a heap, knocked out.

  Whoa. I was turning into a real badass.

  I snatched my jacket up just as the other two guys advanced on me, Don at their back, looking at me with shock at what I’d been able to do to one of his henchmen.

  Both of them came at me at once, overwhelming me, and making me realize why Finn had warned me that I needed a lot more training before I put anything into practice. The two of them managed to shove me into my car, one of them winding me with a hard thrust to my chest. It gave them the opportunity to gain a strong hold on me, keeping me steady and immobile as Don stepped up to me.

  He pulled some sort of syringe from his pocket and held it before him.

  “What the hell is that?” I demanded, struggling against the guys holding me.

  “Just something to calm you down so I can get you back to the warehouse. Then we can finally have that chat.” His eyes flashed. “Gonna teach you a lesson and give you the punishment you deserve for ruining my fucking life.”

  “You did that to yourself,” I shot back.

  Antagonizing someone who had me pinned probably wasn’t the greatest idea I’d ever had, but I was so tired of his relentless insanity.

  “Argh!” he bellowed, and backhanded me hard across the face.

  I hissed as my head snapped to the side and I tasted blood on my lips.

  He stepped up close and I cringed as he pressed his body into mine.

  He raised the needle to my eye level, clearly letting me get a good look to freak me out.

  But then he stilled at the sound of a thunderous roar coming toward us.

  He looked over his shoulder and cursed.

  A deep, booming voice rang out, startling me, “You know, it never fails. The sun goes down and all the monsters come on out to play.”

  Spartan!

  He’d made it right on time.

  “Who the hell are you?” Don demanded.

  “You’re about to find out,” Spartan threatened.

  “Stay out of this,” Don snarled.

  Instead, I heard Spartan striding over.

  “Thing is,” he went on, coming into view over Don’s shoulder. “I’m way worse than some goddamn monster.” His eyes flashed with a darkness that I’d never seen from him before.

  Don leaned over me and put the syringe down on the hood of my car, then he turned to face Spartan. With a snap of his fingers, his remaining two guys released me and flanked him, facing off with Spartan.

  “Take him,” Don commanded.

  “No! Stop, Don! Stop!” I screamed.

  The shocks just kept on coming as the guy on the left swung and Spartan swatted it away like the guy was nothing more than a fly. As Righty came at him, Spartan used his weight against him and flipped him over his shoulder in one smooth move. Holy hell! As Righty hit the concrete with a hefty thud and a pained grunt, Spartan spun just as Lefty lunged at him again. A brutal fist to the throat knocked him out of play, the guy choking and spluttering, collapsing to his knees.

  “Fuck!” Don yelled.

  “Car. Now,” Spartan barked at me, his eyes on Don as he strode toward him.

  I didn’t dare argue. I scrambled inside the car as fast as I could.

  “Get back out here!” Don thundered, diving for my car door.

  I just managed to shut it before he made contact.

  Spartan’s powerful hands grasped his shoulders, ripping him away with one tug of strength. A thump on the hood of my car had me jumping as Spartan snatched the syringe up. He spun it rapidly in his hand, then brought it down toward Don.

  The asshole grabbed at Spartan’s wrist, trying to hold it off.

  In the struggle, it pushed up the left sleeve of Spartan’s leather jacket, revealing his club tattoo inked on his inner forearm.

  Don’s eyes widened. “Iron Kings,” he gasped.

  “That’s right, fucker,” Spartan growled. He smashed the fist of his free hand into Don’s face. He lost his grip on Spartan’s wrist and the needle plunged deep into his thigh.

  “This… isn’t over,” Don murmured, as his eyes grew heavy quickly, his body weakening.

  Spartan
stepped back and watched as Don crumpled to the ground, out cold.

  His eyes darted around the area and he shook his head to himself.

  I followed his line of sight to see that there were a bunch of people standing nearby and looking on. Witnesses. Oh no.

  The passenger door flew open a second later making me jump.

  “Look at me and hold out your hands,” Spartan ordered.

  Startled, I did so automatically. I couldn’t hold them steady because they were shaking so badly.

  He studied me for a couple of moments. “You can’t drive.” He closed the passenger door, then sprinted around to my side. The next thing I knew, the door was flying open.

  “Come here,” he said, holding out his hand to me.

  “Okay, I… uh.” What was he asking? Come where? Why? Crap. Was I in shock? Was that why I couldn’t focus?

  His hand clamped down on my arm, pulling me from the edge of panic, reaching through my dazed state.

  His unexpected contact was doing more than that. Heat traveled through my body, the sweet feel of his skin on mine. I looked up to find kind eyes gazing back at me.

  The next thing I knew, his powerful arms were wrapping around me and hauling me out of my car.

  “You’re all right, love. Gonna get us home. I got you.”

  7

  ~Spartan~

  SHE WINCED as I dabbed the alcohol-soaked cue tip to the graze beside her lip.

  “Sorry, love.”

  “It doesn’t need stitches, does it?” she asked, the panic in her voice real clear. She tipped her head up, those sexy blues of hers finally getting up the nerve to meet my gaze. She’d been avoiding looking directly at me ever since I’d brought her back to her apartment twenty minutes ago.

  She played things real close to the vest, but reading people was my thing, so I’d managed to figure out what was going on with her.

  Yeah, part of it was shock. It was why I had her wrapped up in a blanket I’d found in her closet. But she was also embarrassed by what’d happened with those fuckers. She hadn’t wanted me knowing, she’d wanted to keep that perfect image she figured I had of her in my mind intact. That weren’t possible to live up to, not for nobody. And it weren’t like I was gonna judge. Each to their own and all that. And the other part of it? She seemed real nervous with me. Just like back at Rizzo’s last week. I really hoped we weren’t gonna be set back to square one, because we’d been making some good progress over the last few days. Her nerves had gone away with me and she’d started being more open and just enjoying things.

  “Nah, you ain’t gonna need stitches,” I told her. “It’s stopped bleeding.”

  She blew out a sigh of relief. “Good.”

  “You scared of needles?” I asked her as I taped a gauze pad gently to her skin.

  “Not really. You know, except the one that maniac tried to stab me with.” She hesitantly touched the pad beside her lip. “I just don’t want a scar, because I don’t want him to win again.”

  “Again?”

  Her eyes went wide, realizing what she’d revealed. “I… uh… nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

  Like fuck, it didn’t.

  “That scar on your stomach, that was him, weren’t it?”

  She looked down, seeming all ashamed. With a nod, she told me, “A broken beer bottle.”

  “Jesus. Sick motherfucker,” I growled, my fists clenching.

  Disgust flipped to anger real quick, burning through me.

  Shit. I caught myself.

  It weren’t like me to react so intensely to nobody or nothing. But the idea of her suffering like that and the guilty shithead still being out there terrorizing her sparked it to life in an instant.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about all this?”

  She looked up at me, frowning. “Why would I?”

  “Cuz you know me, know my rep. Means you know I can sort it.”

  She shook her head.

  “Don’s his name, yeah? Heard you screaming it when his boys came at me.”

  “Stop,” she said, still shaking her head.

  “What’s his last name?” I pushed.

  Tugging the blanket tight around her, she bolted up. She wavered on her feet and grabbed at the arm of the couch with shaking hands. But she missed and I reacted quick, stabilizing her with my hands to her arms. I heard a little gasp escape her as our bodies smacked together.

  Her eyes burned into mine and I was real aware of her fingers tightening around my biceps. “It’s not your problem, okay? I’ve got it handled.”

  I couldn’t hold back an eyeroll at that fucked-up claim. “Yeah, it really looked like you were handling it with those assholes attacking you in a fucking parking lot right out in public.”

  She sneered at me and jerked back out of my hold. In a fit of anger, she threw the blanket off and tossed it onto the couch. “It’s been a year since the last incident, so I’m doing way better than you think.”

  A year? What the fuck had gone down with that maniac a year ago? She’d been here on Iron Kings territory at that time. There’s no way he woulda had the balls to come here. Actually, I was willing to bet it was the only thing that’d been keeping her safe. The way he’d reacted to my tat offered up that much. She must’ve ventured beyond Ridgefield’s borders.

  It begged the fucking question of how he was figuring out when she’d left our territory?

  She was still real freaked about the attack earlier and even trying to push her for intel just a bit had caused a bad reaction in her. So, I’d back off for now, let her calm down, and get her head together. But then we were gonna talk. Big time.

  “All right,” I told her, holding up my hands and forcing myself to wave the white flag. “Got you, love.”

  She stared at me for a few seconds, like she couldn’t believe I was dropping it. Then she looked away. I watched her run a hand through her hair and blow out a heavy sigh as she sank back down onto her little blue couch.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, that sheepish thing of hers coming out again. “It’s just… what happened… it was a lot.”

  “I know and it’s okay. Don’t need no apology from you.” I flashed her a grin, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m a big boy.”

  “Yeah, I’m well aware.”

  Goddamn. She’d really jumped on that innuendo and I watched her blush.

  My phone started humming in the back pocket of my jeans. “Give me a second,” I told Dani as I pulled it out and eyed the call display.

  Finally. I’d been waiting on his call.

  “Anarchy, you got it?”

  “Yeah, Prez, we got your bike back. It’s all good. In the same condition it left here in.”

  Yeah, Dani had been too shaken up to drive and there weren’t no way I coulda put her on the back of my bike while she was in that kinda state. So, I’d moved her to the passenger seat and driven her Sunfire back here instead.

  I’d hated leaving my bike behind. It was my goddamn pride and joy. But the situation had called for it. I hadn’t been too worried about Don and his guys fucking it up after his shit-scared reaction when he’d realized I was Iron Kings. It meant he knew our rep and what it meant to cross one of us.

  “Good,” I told Anarchy. Tricks was out on a personal errand for the next couple of days, so I had Anarchy running the shop. The guy was the most multi-talented club member I had. He had some real sweet technical engineering skills and he’d picked up so much from Tricks during his prospecting period that he’d actually become a fully-fledged certified mechanic.

  “Said you were downtown last I heard. Where exactly? I’ll send a truck to give you a ride back up to the clubhouse.”

  “Nah, I’ll meet you at Wheels Up. Bringing in Dani’s car to you.”

  “What? It was already in here not a week ago. Tricks said he checked on anything else urgent and it was good to go for a while.”

  “I know. It’s got a dent in the driver’s door that needs fixing.”

  “
She got hit? Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. I tossed somebody into it.”

  “Well, shit. I can’t wait to hear that story.”

  I rolled my eyes as he started to laugh.

  “Just be there to check it out. I’m driving it over now.”

  I hung up and turned to see Dani eyeing me in surprise. “What?” I asked.

  “My car isn’t your responsibility.”

  “That dent’s there because of me.”

  “The dent’s there because of Don and his friends,” she argued. “And I also slammed one of their faces into it.”

  “Look, I ain’t gonna rest easy, until I fix what I broke.”

  “Spartan,” she protested.

  “Dani,” I growled.

  “Oh my God!” she cried, tugging at her hair. “You’re so argumentative. Do you know that?”

  “Pot. Kettle, love.”

  That got me a grin. “Okay. Thank you.”

  “Ain’t a problem.”

  She walked back to me and surprised the shit outta me when she took my hands and gave them a squeeze. “No, thank you… for everything. You saved me today. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there. Thank you, Spartan.”

  I leaned into her. “I think it’s about damn time you called me Scott, yeah?”

  She tightened her grip on my hands, her voice all sexy and breathy, as she said, “Really? Wouldn’t you rather I call you Prez?”

  She tilted her head up, her eyes burning into mine.

  Goddamn.

  She had my cock reacting, my blood heating from her words alone. That fucking look in her eyes was working me up too, though. I’d never seen a come-fuck-me look like it. And I’d dealt with a load of come-ons in my time. Being Prez of a MC, that shit kinda came with the territory. And before that, there’d been the whole military thing, too.

  But this, from her, it was something else altogether.

  Something real fucking intense.

  Everything in my body was pushing me to throw her down on that couch, strip her naked, and show her what it was like to be fucked by the likes of me.