Five

5

CARMEN

Millionaire and creep?

I shouldn’t be surprised. Men who have money tend to spend it on female company.

But I don’t know why Carter Trescott needs to be here when he has a face as insane as his. Women were throwing themselves at him the night we met. One even offered him money, I’m pretty sure.

So, why is he paying for something he can get for free?

Carter composes himself after the slap and leads us away. He brought friends to the auction. Two equally good-looking men who I’d probably let into my panties if the circumstances were different.

Their names are Vex and Skipper, and they wear the same ridiculous clothes as Carter.

We head away from the auditorium and file into the elevator when it arrives.

I scoot as far away from Carter Trescott as possible. I don’t care how divine he smells. He’s still an asshole. An even fucking bigger one than before.

I can’t stop myself from asking, “Are we going to continue standing in silence, or are you going to tell me why you’re attending a misogynistic auction that has been designed to degrade the female race?”

Carter looks down at me with hard eyes. I’m sure this is all very difficult for him. “I could ask you the same thing. Why are you here?”

This man doesn’t need to know that I have a son.

He also doesn’t need to know that I’m here because of said son.

“That isn’t your business.”

Vex elbows Carter in the rib cage. He uses a quiet voice, but I can still hear every word. “She’s hot. Why did you let her go?”

“I told you we’ll talk about this later,” Carter mutters back.

I snort. “Carter isn’t good at goodbyes, are you, buddy?”

His hard gaze is back on mine again, and suddenly I’m flashing back to our encounter three years ago. I was sitting on his lap and his big blue eyes were dazzling in the light.

His eyes, although still the same rich color, are now smaller. It makes me wonder if somebody has finally brought him back down to planet earth.

It was a long time coming.

I lean back against the elevator wall, suddenly aware that I’m still half-naked, dressed in sparkling lingerie and eight-inch stilettos. Appearance-wise, nothing has changed about me at all, except I’ve put on a few pounds.

“What happened to the suits?” I ask.

The hard look intensifies. “I grew out of them.”

That’s one way to say it. Even through the leather, I can see defined muscle in his shoulders that definitely wasn’t there before.

The man was all face; now he’s all face and body.

And somebody finally succeeded in ripping that smug look off his face, and I salute them. He looks much better without it. But that doesn’t mean I hate his guts any less.

The man was still attending an illegal auction tonight.

“What happened to you?” I open up that question to the floor. “What happened to all of you? Why are you dressed for a bounty hunt?”

Vex and Skipper give each other the eye.

I’m still struggling to decide which one makes my heart flutter the most. It’s a tight competition. All of them are so different, but still equal amounts of delicious.

Vex is the one on Carter’s left. He has silver hair like the others, but is the most intimidating to look at. If Carter is a gorilla, Vex is Bigfoot. He’s a giant. The most built out of all of them. His eyes, like the hair and beard, are also silver. I’m having a hard time deciding if I’m more turned on, or more petrified.

Skipper stands on the other side of Carter with long, silver hair that falls to his shoulders. This kind of hairstyle has never caught my attention on a man before…until now. His ultra-tanned skin suggests that he’s spent most of his life out in the elements. Even though his face has signs of aging, it doesn’t take away from how handsome he is. UV only damages so much. I know for a fact that his amazing bone structure isn’t going anywhere.

While I’m marveling at my three suitors for tonight, it looks like they’re doing the same. Or are they sizing me up?

Before I can repeat myself and question their choice of outfits for tonight, the elevator dings and the sliding doors open.

Finally, the real world is back. I step out into the casino, but it’s not time to celebrate my freedom yet.

As we weave through the crowds, I toy with the idea of chancing an escape.

At the moment, I’m on the fence about it. I’ve all of a sudden been reunited with Carter fucking Trescott, but it’s not all bad. Actually, the sizable number he wrote on that blackboard is quite the opposite of bad.

It wouldn’t hurt to entertain them.

I could really use the cash.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“Out,” Carter says, leading us out into the great outdoors also known as the Vegas Strip, a place I unfortunately know better than the back of my hand.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

The men remains ambiguous as ever, walking down the busy street. Carter Trescott might’ve had a makeover, but people still treat him like royalty, parting around him like he’s a biblical figure.

Vex and Skipper receive the same treatment.

Girls gawk at all three of them as they walk past, and I’m glad. It means that I’m not going insane. It means that these men are all objectively attractive.

Could I be in trouble?

Shit. Maybe going with Conrad would’ve been better.

Eventually, they turn away from the Strip and guide me away down a darkened alley.

Fabulous.

“Get on,” Carter says.

“What?”

Skipper extends his hand, and that’s when I see it—the Harley.

“What is this? An episode of Sons of Anarchy?”

“No,” Vex says. “It’s a deal. A very expensive deal. And we need to get our money’s worth. Hop on and hold on tight. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

I don’t “hop” onto any man’s motorcycle, regardless of how good-looking he is.

“I know I agreed to attend an underground auction, but that doesn’t automatically mean I don’t give a shit about my life.”

“What are you talking about?” Vex says. Unironically, he has a vexed look about him. “You know the rules, sweetheart. The highest bidder gets to take you home for the night.”

“And where is home?”

Carter intervenes and turns away from me to chat with his friends. “I don’t think this is a good idea, guys.”

“Rules are rules,” Vex says. “We also wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for you.”

“Yeah, I know. I acted out of impulse. I had to do something.”

“You didn’t have to do anything,” Skipper says. “Writing that number down on the blackboard was your choice.”

“Conrad’s a shady fuck,” Carter protests.

“Why do you care?”

Vex is really starting to make me despise men even more.

“I don’t. I just had to⁠—”

“Yeah, we get it.” Skipper rolls his eyes.

Carter growls. “I didn’t even want to come here in the fucking first place. It was Vex’s idea.”

Explains a lot.

Carter sighs. “We have to get away from this. Let’s forget the money and forget Carmen.”

“Carmen?” Skipper says incredulously. “You know her name? When did the two of you meet?”

I’m just as surprised as Skipper. Carter’s body count is probably well into the thousands. For him to remember my name, I must’ve done something memorable.

“It doesn’t matter when we met,” Carter replies. “All I’m saying is that we should part ways and pretend this never happened.”

“I thought men like you are supposed to keep their word.” I step forward and join their conversation. “You want to pretend like this never happened? Are you serious?”

“Very,” Vex says.

“What about the money?”

Carter turns around to face me. “Why do you care about the money?”

Because we’re not all made of bucks.

I keep my answer short and to the point. “Your bid was a lot of money. I think we can all agree on that. With a check like that, I could vacation in Bora Bora until I’m like, sixty.”

“You’re a long way off sixty,” Vex says.

I keep my mouth shut. Best not to mention that this sort of money saves lives. “Anyway, this isn’t just about the money. It’s about principle.”

“Principle?” Carter stares at me curiously. “What do you know about principle?”

“I know Conrad O’Neill runs a tight ship, and he won’t be very happy to hear that you three have broken his rules.”

“Might be too late for that,” interjects Skipper. “He didn’t look too happy when the auctioneer was handing you over to us.”

Carter bypasses that comment. “You should be thanking me. At the end of the day, I saved your life.”

Sure.

Sold from one asshole to another.

I’m indebted.

I take a step back and let the men fight it out. As much as I hate Carter Trescott, I do have a lot to thank him for. He handed down his genetics to the son he doesn’t know about, and he’s also the reason I’m seeing the light of day again.

And by the light of day, I’m talking about the giant Vegas billboards that illuminate the sky.

Carter goes on looking at me with his hard stare, like he’s trying to get access to my soul. Good luck with that one, buddy.

“Fine.” He steps aside and invites me to hop onto his Harley. “Climb aboard.”

I’m still in two minds about all of this. The bikers still haven’t told me where “home” is. But I trust Carter, even though we’re practically strangers. If he saved me from Conrad, he must have semi-good intentions.

I don’t sit on the handsome man’s motorbike because he’s attractive.

I sit for money.

A fucking crazy amount of money.

Begrudgingly, I wrap my hands around Carter’s waist as he starts up the engine. In an ideal world, I wouldn’t touch him. But I’d also prefer not to fall to my death and leave Otis without a mother.

We fly through the city.

And I wish I was exaggerating.

It feels like we’re about to take off.

With no other option, I hug Carter’s waist and trust that we won’t get in trouble with the cops for exceeding the speed limit.

I didn’t really know what to expect from tonight, but reuniting with my last one-night stand was not on the bingo card.

Carter Trescott put me off dating for life. I only jumped into his lap that night because he was hot and I’d had too much to drink. If I was sober, I’d have looked at him, appreciated his face, and walked right past him.

Being this close to him again is dangerous. As much as I hate this man, he did know what he was doing in the bedroom, and I haven’t had a decent bedroom experience since.

These days, the only romantic relationship I have is with my vibrator. As long as I keep that baby charged, I get what I want.

Granted, it can’t throw me around the bedroom, spank my ass and call me a bad girl, but it can make me finish…sometimes.

If I can get my hands on all of this money, I’ll be able to afford an upgrade.

Before I know it, we’re out of the city and heading for the desert.

“I thought you lived in the city,” I shout in his ear.

I didn’t mean to catch a whiff of his masculine scent.

And I didn’t expect it to heat me up in certain…places.

“I don’t live in the city anymore,” he answers, his gaze fixated on the long road in front of us.

“Where do you live?”

“You’ll see.”

“How’s the business doing?”

Silence.

If I asked that question three years ago, I’d never get a word in edgewise. He’d be telling me about the annual revenue, about the new online courses available. He’d be telling me about fucking everything.

All I can hear now is the wind howling in my ears as we enter open air.

I don’t push any further, not wanting to poke the bear too much—I still want my money.

“What are you doing these days?” he asks me.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because women who attend O’Neill auctions don’t do it for plane tickets to Bora Bora. They do it because they’re desperate.”

“Desperate like the men that attend? You’re even more distasteful than I thought.”

“It wasn’t my decision to attend tonight.”

“Free will,” I yell into the wind. “We all have it. Ever heard of the word no?”

Carter responds to my question with another question. “What sort of trouble are you in?”

“I’m not in any kind of trouble.”

“Don’t lie. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“Maybe we should talk more about why you’ve had a wardrobe change. Carter Trescott doesn’t ride dirty motorcycles out into the middle of nowhere. He sits on his ergonomic chair with two computer monitors. On one is a record of his finances. On the other, he’s online shopping for a designer suit.”

“You seem to know a lot about my life.”

“Men like you are predictable.”

“If that’s what you think…”

I let him have the last word, because he’ll probably get butthurt if I outsmart him too much.

I roll back my head and let the wind take my hair. All things considered, it feels refreshing being away from the suburbs for a change.

“How far away are we? I’m getting a cramp in my leg.”

“We’re close now.”

I look out and see nothing but darkness. Are we seeing the same thing? “What are you talking about?”

“This is home.”

Carter kills the engine, silence ringing in my ear. Vex and Skipper park next to us and jump off their bikes. Only when I see them walk ahead do I realize there’s something here.

“Where are the lights?”

Carter chooses to ignore my question. He offers me his hand as I climb off, but I refuse to take it and hop off just fine on my own.

If we’re not counting the part where I almost trip and fall flat on my face.

“This is the Venom Vultures clubhouse.” Skipper says it like the building is a historical artifact, one preserved for museums.

As I step closer, I realize that it well and truly could be a thing of the past. From the outside, the place looks like it’s falling apart.

Vex shines a flashlight, and I get an even closer look at the peeling wood, the weathered veranda. Carter Trescott wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this.

“What the hell?” I turn to him. “This is a joke.”

Carter shakes his head.

“I’m not going in there.” I come to a halt several yards away, feet placed firmly in the dry earth.

It’s a place fit for a serial killer.

And don’t even get me started on the location.

“How many dead bodies have you buried out here in the sand dunes?”

“Not as many as you’d expect,” Vex says.

Carter gives him a stern look.

“You should come inside,” Skipper says. “There’s a lot more going on.”

I turn to Carter for clarity on the situation, but his gaze remains forward. He sees me looking, I know he does, but he refuses to look my way.

Sons of Anarchy.

I wasn’t kidding when I said that earlier.

“Look,” Vex says. “You agreed to come home with us, didn’t you? If you want the money, you’re gonna have to come inside.”

“And what happens inside?”

Carter tightens his jaw and shakes his head at the other two.

“You’re making it look so appealing,” I say. “Should I prepare to take my last breath?”

“You’re not gonna die,” Skipper says. “But Vex is right. If you want the money, you’re gonna have to come inside.”

Carter looks at them again, but this time with a more settled expression. He doesn’t shake his head. In fact, this time he turns to me with a pained look written across his face. I’m almost convinced that he feels sorry for me.

Almost.

I look at my three very attractive suitors, dressed to the nines in leather and denim, and wonder how I got so lucky.

Carter Trescott was too hot to handle by himself.

And now he’s found himself some smoking hot friends.

Forget the millions of dollars. I’d jump into bed with them for free.

“You promise I’m not gonna die? Because I have family, you know. Not like I expect you guys to understand.”

Carter stiffens for a second and then steps aside to welcome me in. “Ladies first.”

I take my next few steps very carefully.

One, because I can’t see the ground below me.

Two, because I can’t feel my legs.

Am I nervous or intimidated?

Or both?

These men could squash me between their fingers like a pea if they wanted to. They don’t want to—not yet, but that’s only because I’m worth something to them.

Who’s to say they won’t run me over with their Harleys as soon as they have what they want?

Vex opens the door and I cautiously step inside. A stuffed bald eagle welcomes me in with a hard stare which I feel the need to return, even though the creature is no longer breathing.

The other bikers in the room give me the same, piercing stare. Unlike the giant eagle they must worship, these stares actually mean something.

“Ignore them,” Carter says. “It’s not often we bring in outside girls.”

I don’t know whether to be endeared by that comment, or frightened.

“Oh.” I take a few more awkward steps forward in my sparkling lingerie. “Should I be flattered that you don’t attend sex auctions on a regular basis?”

“We attend them monthly.” Vex sits down at a free table and looks up at me.

“You must be fond of Conrad.”

“No,” Skipper interjects. “Nobody’s fond of Conrad, but he does put on a good show. He has good taste in women.”

I narrow my eyes at the boys as they all take a seat opposite me.

I have to be missing something here.

Vex, Skipper, and Carter could be the new heartbreak boy band of the century. I don’t doubt that women throw themselves at these men, plonk into their lap and do all kinds of nonsense.

Why are they buying women when they can get them for free?

“What would you like to drink?” Vex asks.

“Carmen won’t be drinking.”

Since when did Carter Trescott become my father?

“Gin, if you have it.”

“Of course.” Vex heads away and orders at the bar.

With his back turned, I take the opportunity to check him out from behind—just as broad as the rest of him. But it’s his hands that capture my attention the most. They’re careful. Precise. He speaks a lot with them as he converses with the bartender.

Vex is the kind of man who always wins a fight. It makes me wonder what he’s doing out here when he could be making thousands a night on the Strip as a security guard.

Maybe those paychecks aren’t quite as large as the ones from the motorcycle club…

“He’s a killer enforcer,” Skipper says, following my gaze.

“Who’s he killed?”

“It’s an expression.” Carter stares at me hard again. “He’s good at his job.”

“And what is it you do here?” I fold my arms over my chest and try to look at Carter without melting. “Is this another one of your hobbies whenever you need a breather from the business? How’s it going by the way? I’m surprised you haven’t found a way to make this conversation about yourself yet.”

“Milton’s Milkshakes has a new CEO,” Carter says matter-of-factly. “I sold the company.”

I frown. The ocean is more likely to turn green.

He has to be joking, but the more I stare into his blue eyes, the more I see the truth.

“Why did you sell it?”

For a beat, the table falls silent, and then Vex returns with drinks.

Saved by the bell.

For now.

I take a sip of the gin and pretend not to wince at the strength. My last sip of alcohol was about three years ago. To be precise, it was the night I sat in Carter’s lap and took him back to my place.

All things considered, it feels nice to sip something that isn’t orange juice, water, or milk. The sweet burn of the gin traveling down my throat feels dangerously restorative. It’s like I’m twenty-one years old again without a care in the world.

I gave birth to Otis and suddenly turned sixty.

I cradle the drink in my hands before I accidentally gulp it down in one go. “What exactly happens here? You ride motorcycles and get paid?”

“Kind of,” Skipper says. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“What’s complicated about riding bikes?”