Outlaw’s Sins Page 7

  “I don’t believe you. But if you don’t want to tell me, that’s your prerogative.”

  She gave him a sidelong glance. “I’m surprised you know the word ‘prerogative.’”

  He tossed her words back at her. “It would behoove you to understand there is plenty you don’t know about me.”

  She laughed. He wasn’t sure who was more surprised, her or him. It was a good laugh. Not the giggling of a girl, but the ripe, full sound of a woman. It was the kind of sound that could have turned heads inside a crowded bar. He promised himself to get her to laugh more often.

  “Fair,” she said. “Now tell me where we are supposed to go.”

  There were a few places on his list, and Finn played navigator to her pilot. There was something sensual about watching her control that sleek car. Even so, after the first two places turned up empty, Finn found himself getting worried, too. It wasn’t like Oliver to disappear. Sure, the kid wasn’t perfect, but he was usually good about picking up his phone when Finn called. When Finn called for the seventh time and still got no answer, he had to fight back his own feelings.

  “Why are you friends with my brother?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “What is a grown man doing hanging out with a kid?” she asked again. “You told me yourself, first time we met, you are thirty-two years old. Why are you hanging out with him? Are you grooming him for some criminal life?”

  Finn shook his head. “Oliver is stubborn enough that he is going to do whatever he wants with his life.”

  “That’s perceptive.”

  “I happen to know a thing or two about being so damn stubborn that you make stupid decisions just to keep from doing what someone tells you to do.”

  “So, what? You see a younger version of yourself?”

  He thought about it for a moment. “Maybe. I never sat down and tried to figure it out. I just went with my impulse. I saw a kid who needed someone to count on.”

  “And you decided you were the best option?”

  “You weren’t here.”

  Tense silence filled the car. Maybe it wasn’t the best thing he could have said to her. Maybe he could have framed it with pretty words and niceness, but he didn’t think it would work where Cora Anderson was concerned.

  “Sorry,” he said after a moment. “That was a shitty thing for me to say.”

  “It was,” she said in response. “But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t true. I did leave. I didn’t think about Oliver when I ran off to go live my life somewhere else. I don’t know why I didn’t. I could say I was too young and self-involved. It might even be true. But I haven’t been young in a long time.”

  “What about self-involved?”

  Her lips curled into a little smile that was anything but happy. “I learned a long time ago to put myself first.”

  “Bullshit,” he said, shifting in his seat as he directed her to take a left off Main Street, toward the older part of town. He never liked coming out this way. The buildings here were crumbling in disrepair, and trash cluttered the edge of the road. “If you really felt that way, you wouldn’t be out here at three in the morning to find your brother.”

  “That’s not true. I posted the bail. If he doesn’t make it to his court date, I’m out a fairly decent amount of money.”

  “You’ve got money to spare.”

  She snorted. “I only stay that way if I’m careful with it.”

  “Park over here,” he said. “We’ll have to walk the rest of the way.”

  “Oh goody. I get to park my baby in the shitty part of town.”

  She did it anyway, pulling the car into a parking space in front of a building with signs so faded the company name was impossible to read. Only a cartoon caricature of a dollar bill with a handful of smaller bills clinging to the locked double doors depicted what the business was at all. The tall sign out front was marked with spray paint, tagging the lot as belonging to a group that called themselves Stingrays.

  Finn found himself frowning. Stingrays was a name he was only passingly familiar with. As far as he knew, it was a bunch of high school kids who liked to skip school and smoke a lot of pot. Harmless, really. Still, he’d never seen their tag on anything. Everyone knew the Violent Spawn was the force to be reckoned with in town, and when there were more pizza parlors than stoplights around here it wasn’t like there was a whole lot of town for crime.

  “What’s wrong?” Cora asked.

  He shook his head before he had even decided he was going to answer. “I don’t think so.”

  She followed his gaze up and up until it fell on the same ragged patch of red paint. Cora was a clever woman; he knew that from the beginning. He watched her mist-colored eyes puzzle out the symbol, and then she frowned. “Who are the Stingrays?”

  “Some local kids. They like to break windows and pull five-finger discounts.” He kept his voice light.

  “What would Oliver be doing around here?”

  He started walking, and he didn’t bother answering until he heard the steady click of her heels as she caught up with him. “There’s a girl.”

  “Of course there is.” Cora crossed her arms over her chest. Her legs were long enough that she didn’t struggle to keep up with him, even in those girlie shoes. “Who is she?”

  “I don’t know much about her. Her name is Britt, and she only moved here a few months ago. She’s got a brother Oliver talks shit about, and blue-collar parents who both work sixty hours a week to make ends meet. He bought her a teddy bear for her birthday last month.”

  “A teddy bear? Must be serious.”

  He smiled. “In the way of high school love.”

  She was quieter when she said, “Pretty damn serious.”

  Finn didn’t think of himself as book smart. School had never been his favorite thing. That didn’t mean he was stupid. He could hear there was a lot more to those words than Oliver’s girlfriend. He wondered if being stupid in love was what made her go bad before. Maybe that’s what was keeping her from getting wild now.

  “I went stupid over a girl once,” he said.

  She gave him a look of melodramatic shock. “Only once?”

  He laughed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, all right. I can be a little bit on the crazy-for-ladies side. But can you blame me? Women are just…nice.”

  “All women?”

  He shrugged and found himself wondering how honest he was supposed to be with this woman. Sure, Speed knew her. Well, he had known her once upon a time. Did that matter now? She was talking more now than she had been back at the bar. Something was working. “Most women, if we are being up-front and honest about it. I like women. Sweet or sassy, skinny or thick. All of them have a certain kind of something that makes me want to see more.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’ll just bet.”

  “Some more than others,” he said, bumping his shoulder against hers. “They are like cars.”

  “Women aren’t cars,” she interrupted.

  He nodded. “I know that. That’s why I said they are like them. It’s a metaphor or something. Just hear me out. Women are like cars. Some of them are all flash with no substance, nothing under the hood. Some might not seem like much at first, but they are real powerhouses. Then there are some that are a little of both.”

  “Is that supposed to be some kind of compliment, Mr. Marks?”

  He stroked his hand down his chin. “I mean, if you want to take it that way, Ms. Anderson.”

  They reached a street corner and came to a stop. Unexpectedly, she turned toward him. “All right. I can’t figure you out.”

  Finn wasn’t sure there was anything else she could have said that would have surprised him more. “What?”

  “I can’t figure you out,” she repeated, throwing her hands up in the air. “I mean, if you were an absolute creep you wouldn’t be here now, trying to help find Oliver. If you were just interested in getting into my pants—”

  “You’re wearing a skirt.”
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  She frowned at him. “Fine. If you were just interested in getting under my skirt, you would have tried to get me to stay at the hotel with you and wait for my brother to come home. Maybe you would have come up with some line about taking my mind off things.”

  “Well.” He smirked and stepped forward, closing the small amount of distance between them. “If you want me to take your mind off things…”

  “Stop trying to be funny. It’s not working.”

  “Oh, ouch.”

  She poked a finger into his chest. “The truth is a painful thing. So how about you tell me what you want here.”

  She turned her head up until the glow from the overhead streetlight filled her face. For a moment, he was struck stupid. Her features looked sleek and catlike. Her eyes were long and slightly tilted near the corners, her nose and chin both ending in points. If she had pointed ears she would have looked like one of those elven babes in those sword-and-shield movies. He had never seen the appeal until this moment.

  “All right,” he said. He snaked his arms around her middle and hauled her close. Her eyes went wide and then narrowed. “I will,” he promised, “but I need you to pay attention because I am only going to say this once. You want to know what I’m about? It’s simple. I like your brother because he is the smartest little idiot I know. I want him safe and happy and all that shit you normally want for family. You? I just want you. I want to see that skin of yours get pink and sweaty with wild sex. I want to kiss you until you want to make nothing but bad decisions.”

  “I stopped making bad decisions a long time ago.”

  Her lips were so close to his that he could almost taste her breath. The scent of peppermint swept over him. It wasn’t the sharp scent of toothpaste, but it was close.

  “Well, that sucks.”

  He dipped his head at the same moment she lifted hers. Her lips crushed against his with a wild fervor he hadn’t expected, but was willing to drown in. Her hands came around his shoulders and cupped the back of his head, pulling him harder against her. She smoldered in his arms, like some kind of living flame. Her tongue was quick and clever as it dove into his mouth in expAmytion, retreated and dove again.

  He trailed his hands down her back to palm the curve of her backside. Finn struggled to remember a woman who had ever been so soft and warm in his arms. Desperately, he tried to think of a place where he could get her naked. He was just beginning to wonder if there was a counter inside the bank that he could plop her down on when she yanked her mouth away from his.

  “What is it?” he asked, looking around. “What’s wrong?”

  “This.” She motioned between them with one hand. The other was plastered on his chest, keeping him at arm’s length. “I can’t do this.”

  “Sure felt like you were doing it just fine.”

  “Mr. Marks, I am aware that you are accustomed to women who give in to the minimum level of your charms at the slightest provocation. I’m not one of them.”

  Feeling a little stupid, he dropped his arms back to his sides. “All right.”

  She blinked, surprise making her flushed features go pale all over again. Clearly, she had expected him to put up some kind of fight. “All right?”

  He dragged a hand over his mouth, trying to clear his senses of her. “Yeah. Listen, I’m not going to lie. I want you. I think we’d be pretty fun together. But I’m not exactly turned on by a woman telling me no.”

  Her smile was small and embarrassed. “I didn’t mean—”

  He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve got bigger things to worry about right this moment.”

  “Oliver,” she said as if she’d just remembered what they were doing out here. She pulled her phone out of a pocket he hadn’t even felt despite how up close and personal they had gotten. “Goddammit. It’s nearly three in the morning. Where is he?”

  He looked past her, out into the night and toward the old bypass that was just shy of being considered abandoned. As his thoughts came away from the fuzzy images of seeing Cora naked and purring, he could make out a few kids lounging between the cement columns. “I think he’s over there.”

  Her head whipped around so fast her hair nearly smacked him in the face. The locks hadn’t even settled into place before she was moving, making a beeline for the overpass. He followed in the wake of her movements. As the pair of them grew closer, he made out the dark blue hoodie Oliver favored. He wasn’t lounging with the others; he was hanging from one of the beams like a monkey, a can of spray paint in one hand.

  “Oliver!” she barked.

  Everyone’s attention whipped in Cora’s direction. There were only three kids there, one girl and two boys. All of them were regular faces at the pool hall.

  “Cora?” Oliver asked. A moment after that: “Finn? What are you two doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same question.” Cora put her hands on her hips. “Get down here, now.”

  “Oooooo,” one of the teens sang, his laughter filled with amusement. “Somebody’s in trouble.”

  “Shut up, Niko,” Oliver snapped out as he slowly climbed down. His head hung down low, and his shoulders were hunched. He looked like a recently kicked puppy. Oliver shoved his hands into the large pocket of his hoodie after shoving the paint can into his backpack. “Cora, I—”

  She held up one hand. “Don’t bother. We will talk in the car. Go.”

  When Oliver hesitated, she snapped it out a second time. Oliver muttered something under his breath but stomped off to the car. Finn watched him go.

  “Should I cling to the roof?” Finn smirked, already putting his hand in his pocket and wondering if Speed or Titan would be better to call.

  She whirled on him. “How about you stay the hell away from Oliver?”

  He blinked. “Wait, what? I don’t understand. I thought…”

  “You thought what? That a single kiss in the middle of the underfunded part of town would mean you could get away with this?”

  Finn had, on occasion, seen women get angry. It was bound to happen when he enjoyed their company as often as he did. He had been slapped, had a drink or two poured in his lap, and been called some pretty inventive names. One woman threatened to set him on fire and throw him off a bridge. None of that compared to the cold fury burning out of Cora’s pretty face.

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  She jabbed a finger into his chest hard enough that he wondered if there would be a bruise. He took a step back and held up his hands in surrender. “I can’t tell if you’re playing dumb because you think I am that stupid, or if you really are that stupid. Honestly, I’m leaning toward the latter.”

  “Cora, seriously, what the hell is wrong?”

  She used the same finger to gesture to the spot where Oliver had been painting. He followed the line she made in the air until he saw it. It was a tiger. Okay, it was half of a tiger, tearing its way out of the concrete. It was the same symbol plastered on Finn’s jacket and the jacket of every Jungle Brawler in the area.

  “I am not an idiot. You aren’t just Oliver’s wannabe surrogate brother. You are trying to pull him into your little motorcycle club. You want to make him into a criminal.”

  Finn didn’t know what to say, partially because she was right. When Oliver grew up a little more he’d probably make a great member of the club. It wasn’t like Finn had asked the kid to go out and do something stupid. Apparently, Oliver had done that on his own initiative.

  “I didn’t ask him to do this,” Finn defended.

  “Do you have any idea what would happen if a cop had caught him doing this? Breaking the law while he is out on bail?”

  “I—”

  She didn’t let him finish. Her clipped and cool voice plowed over his response as if she could not care less what he was about to say. “He’s sixteen. He’s old enough that a judge could waive the ability to try him as a youth. This stupid stunt could carry over into adulthood. Do you know how hard it is for convicts, even of
nonviolent crimes, to get a job that pays anything but minimum wage?”

  “Yeah,” he snapped back, finally getting angry, “I have a little bit of an idea.”

  It was apparently the exact wrong thing to say. She clapped her mouth shut and turned on her heel. He got the bleak pleasure of watching her walk away before she casually tossed over her shoulder, “I’ll just bet you do.”

  Chapter 7

  Cora

  Cora was capable of ignoring Finn Marks for about two weeks. Considering the size of her hometown of Carson, Nevada, and the persistence of Finn, that was a minor miracle. She threw herself into her new role as caregiver and out-of-office boss. One of those jobs was strikingly easier than the first.