Dedication
I'm so grateful to have a wonderful and dedicated team pushing, prodding, directing, and supporting me. Thank you, Lynn, Kerri, Peter, Sara, Jo, Ellen, Jean, Michelle, Bailey. On to the next quarter!
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To late night writing sessions...
¡Arriba, arriba! ¡Ándale, ándale!
Chapter One
"That's the last time you're going to ignore me."
At the raised voice, Romeo glanced over at the trucks parked at the pumps, filling up with diesel. One man pointed at the cab of his truck, and he zeroed in on him.
Every member of Killere Motorcycle Club was aware of an unknown tension running through the air. The full moon seemed to bring out the crazies at Killere Truck Stop.
They'd already dealt with an element in the stove going out in the diner's kitchen that morning. An exhausted trucker bumped the front of the semi into the corner of the motel, causing extensive damage to one of the rooms. As if the day couldn't get worse, the cops continually took swipes through the parking lot, eyeing the clubhouse.
The damn complex was a ticking time bomb.
"Get out," shouted the man.
"Just take a walk, Clyde," yelled a woman. "I told you she doesn't like talking to anyone."
"I want her gone. Her free ride is over. The bitch can find another trucker to take her across the country."
A younger woman jumped down from the cab and faced the one in the argument. He couldn't hear the conversation. There seemed to be no love lost between the females. Their body language remained stiff and unyielding to each other.
Despite wanting to sit down and eat a meal, Romeo paused outside the back door as the man's voice raised again. He squinted. A bag landed on the asphalt at the younger girl's feet.
The girl picked up the bag and walked away from the truck without hesitating. Romeo reached for the back door of the diner, used to seeing truckers drop off the hitchhikers they picked up on the road. Hell, maybe it was a Ménage à trois gone bad.
Truckers seemed to have their share of problems keeping their women. All the explosions appeared to happen when they stopped at the truck stop for a couple of days before getting back on the road.
Probably all the hours they were cooped up together in the truck. He understood how they could get sick of each other's company.
He opened the door, ready to sit down for a half-hour and fill his stomach. He'd looked forward to one of Burt's bacon burgers all damn day.
"Hey, mister, wait up."
He stopped, looking over his shoulder, and found the girl jogging toward him. Blocking the doorway, he planned to show her which direction to head out and see her on her way.
Her breasts bounced freely behind the tight white T-shirt. He let the door close and admired her firm body gliding toward him.
She stopped in front of him, hefting the bag over her shoulder. The action only forced her tits higher, allowing her nipples to poke against the thin fabric. He waited for her to say something, but she gawked at the front of his vest.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"Y-you belong to Killere Motorcycle Club?"
He looked back at the trucker. "This is Killere property."
Everyone who stopped here knew the motorcycle club owned the truck stop, motel, and diner.
The girl's lips formed a perfect O before working her mouth over the information. He waited for her to leave, but she hitched her bag even higher and faced him again. "Do you know Onyx?"
He crossed his arms. There was no reason for this girl to know the president of Killere.
"I want to talk to Onyx," she said, a little louder.
"We're not hiring."
She raised her arched brows. "You're the owner?"
"Nope."
Her gaze traveled down to his vest as her shoulders stiffened. "I'm looking for Onyx."
"We're not hiring."
"I heard you the first time, sir." She looked around, pursing her lips. "Who runs the motel?"
"We're still not hiring."
Her full lips pressed together, and she stepped closer. "Do you know someone named Onyx?"
Romeo refused to answer. He'd already given her the information she needed. Killere Truck Stop wasn't hiring someone who jumped out of a truck because of a domestic argument. She needed to hit the road with her old man.
"Is there a manager here?" she asked.
"Nope."
"I need a job." She stepped in front of him. "It's important that I speak with Onyx."
"Still not hiring."
"I was told..." She cocked her head, and at the same time, her hip brushed the top of his thigh. His balls throbbed, aware of her proximity. Up close, he could tell she was young enough to get him in trouble, just for looking at her.
She had an air about her for having jumped out of a truck a minute ago.
Usually, the women who tagged along with the truckers had more mileage on them—both in life and on their backs. There was a hardness they couldn't hide behind makeup, and they walked around as if they expected the harsh conditions life threw at them.
The young woman in front of him carried herself as if she expected to get what she wanted. Her high cheekbones, heavily lidded eyes, and flawless complexion without a hint of makeup put her in a class by herself over the road-weary women who frequented the truck stop.
She swung her long brown hair, emphasizing her questions. He wasn't sure what to make of her. Usually, the women he dealt with were older than her.
But, he'd seen her kind most of his life. Even entertained a half dozen or so of them in bed. They all secretly wanted him to force them out of their clothes and physically spread their legs, so they could walk away guilt-free for having lowered themselves to getting their tickle on with a biker.
"Like I said, we're not hiring." He pointed to his left. "Keep going around the building, hit the main road, and the entrance to the interstate is about a quarter-mile ahead of you. You'll probably get a ride out of here in no time."
Considering she left one trucker, she wouldn't find any other drivers parked in the lot willing to pick her up. She'd need to leave the truck stop before they hooked up with her. From what he'd learned through the years, even truckers had their loyalty to each other.
The girl stepped back. He hitched his thumb in the direction she needed to go.
Narrowing her gaze, she lifted her chin and walked away from him. He stepped inside the diner and let the door shut behind him.
He walked down the hallway and stopped at the entrance to the main room. The place was packed.
He walked to the back booth where Onyx and Rager sat. "Stove still working?"
"Yup." Rager scooted closer to the wall, making room for him.
He sat as Onyx, the president of Killere MC, finished his coffee. "Already eat?"
"Yeah." Onyx checked his phone. "Just waiting for Willow. She was going to stop here when she came back from the store. Stumpy and Dumbass are escorting her and Vega into town.
Jess, one of the waitresses at the diner, came to the table and bumped her hip against his arm. "What can I get you, honey?"
"Bacon burger, heavy on the mayo and extra fries." He wrapped his arm around Jess's thighs and rubbed her leg. "Having a good day?"