BITTER SWEET CRAVINGS

Book six

The KINGSMEN MC series

TARA OAKES

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

First edition. August 19, 2015

Copyright c. 2015 Tara Oakes

Written by Tara Oakes

Published by Twelve Oakes Publishing, Inc.

Book Cover: Image by CBB Productions

TO MY LAMBCHOP, MY LOVE

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Ending this series was so very bittersweet for me. The Kingsmen MC was my very first series, with A LIL’ LESS BROKEN being my first foray into publishing. All things must come to an end, though, and I only hope that I’ve given you all the conclusion that the Kingsmen deserve.

Thanks so much to all the usual peeps who contribute so much to help me each and every day. Thanks to CBB for another amazing cover, teasers and graphics. Thanks to Alicia for all of her organizational skills and hard work and managing the daily grind of Tara Oakes.

A big shout out to y street team, especially Keri.

A new addition was brought aboard for this last book, Dana, my new beta reader. Thanks so much for the absolute hands down, best beta read through EVER!

And lastly, thanks to each and every one of you that have followed the Kingsmen from the very beginning.

I hope you all look forward to my upcoming series as much as I am.

Be sure to join my mailing list for all the newest releases, sales, contests, and more.

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BIKER FRIENDLY REFERENCE

The life of a biker, although foreign to most of us, is a very intriguing subculture with its own laws, rules, language, and traditions. Hopefully this reference will help the rest of us get to know a bit more about them before we take a peek into the lives of Clink and Charlie, two people born and raised in the secret world of the MC, full of passion, loyalty, fierce family bonds, and... danger.

TERMS

1%er -

The small population of biker clubs that consider themselves outside the law. They often run operations in gambling, guns, prostitution, smuggling, paid protection, drugs, and more. They are considered to be the baddest of the bad, and the roughest of the rough.

Brother -

Club members within the same club refer to each other as 'Brother'. They have made a vow to each other to protect and take care of each other as family.

Cage-

An automobile, usually a van.

Church –

A club meeting to be attended by patched brothers only. Most clubs run as a democracy and important matters are voted on during meetings.

Club Mama –

Women who regularly attend events and interact with the M.C. They may aspire to become an Ol' lady one day but do not yet have a patch holder. They may spend time with many different bikers within a club but have loyalty to the club first before a man. They are considered to be a little bit more respected than a sweet butt.

Cut -

Refers to the leather vest worn by most bikers in a club.

M.C.-

Acronym for Motorcycle Club.

Ol' Lady –

A term of affection used for the main woman, or wife, of a club member. She is given his protection and is considered off limits to any other biker. Women are not considered club members, but rather have associations to the club through their Ol' man, or their patch holder.

Nomad –

A member of an MC that is currently without a specific charter. They are still considered a brother but they choose not to offer specific allegiance to a designated charter, instead they are loyal to the club organization as a whole.

Patched In –

When a prospect completes his initiation period and is voted in, becoming a full-fledged club member, or “brother”

Patches –

The cloth patches or embroidered designs added to a biker’s vest, or cut, that identifies which club they belong to, the location of their specific charter and their position in it.  Other patches can be added to signify milestone events. Example, if the member has ever served prison time for his club, or killed for it.

Piece –

A gun.

Prospect –

Those who desire to become full-fledged patched members must complete an initiation period as prospects before a final vote is taken as to whether or not they can fully join. Prospects usually are given the worst assignments and must prove their loyalty and worth to the club.

Rag –

Another term for a leather vest, or cut, but worn by a woman, given to her by her Ol' man to signify that she is his “property” and is off limits. An Ol' lady's rag does not usually bear the club name, logo, or charter as she is not a club member. It simply states “Property of_____.”

Sweet Butt –

A term used to describe a woman who is “used” by members in a club. They are usually welcomed at club parties, or “brother only” parties, but are never allowed at family events. It is a derogatory term and there is very little respect for these ladies by club members.

Tat –

A tattoo. Full-fledged club members, or brothers, often have the club patches permanently tattooed on their bodies to signify that they are members even if not wearing their cuts. An Ol' lady will usually have a tattoo to honor her Ol' man signifing that she is his property even if she is not wearing her rag.

CHAPTER ONE

CHARLIE

“Liar.”

A dark flash crosses his aging eyes just before the right nostril twitches as he growls low and deep.

“I realize you’re upset. This is a lot for you, Charlie. That’s the only reason I’m going to let that comment slide. The next time you see your brother, you ask him what happened the first and only time he ever called me a liar.”

We play a game of chicken, each staring at the other across my dining table, unwilling to flinch or show weakness in any way. Both headstrong and stubborn.

I guess this is who I got it from.

“My mom told me everything, Vince. I’m not buying what you’re selling.”

It’s true to an extent. Mom reluctantly told me the whole sordid tale after I had confronted her with a stack of paperwork she was unable to deny. Otherwise, I’m sure she would have tried.

“I’m not going to bad mouth your ma, Charlie. Regina—I’m sure she did the best she could. Told you what she thought was the right thing to say, but we all got our truths, got our baggage. She’s gonna have to deal with that one day. Today, though… I’m looking you dead in the eyes and I’m telling you I didn’t know.”

I push back hard from the table. What did I expect from him? He’s a criminal, a thief. A president of a goddamned outlaw motorcycle gang for Christ’s sake. Did I really expect him to fess up that he turned a pregnant woman away? Chose to forget her as easily as the little fling they had in order to return to his family?

“She came here, Vince. I know she did. She came here and she told you in person that you knocked her up. You told her it wasn’t your problem, turned your back and went back to your pretty little wife. You never looked back. Thank God, too. I can only imagine what would have happened if you hadn’t. My dad stepped in and cleaned up your mess. Like a real man!”

Insulting a biker is a very delicate thing. You either have to be willing to face the consequences or have a bad-ass poker face to at least make him think you will.

Let’s just say my pokerface sucks. Every bit of anger and rage that’s been building in me since I first saw the cold, hard evidence in my hand that proved once and for all why I was nothing like the man I believed my whole life to be my father… it’s all boiling over now and is ready to explode on this sorry piece of crap in front of me.

To hell with the consequences.

He came here wanting to talk… well, he’s gonna get a talk. My kind of talk. The kind where he can’t use some fancy footwork to get out of the mess he’s created. The kind where he’s finally held accountable after all these years for the cowardly choice he made.

The massive fist of the man in question balls itself tight and slams hard against the wooden top between us, rattling the screws holding it together. I almost expect it to snap down the middle from the impact.

“She told me she had a miscarriage! First, she came here and told me she was pregnant, expected me to leave my wife, to leave my family. I was honest with her, Charlie, right from day one. She knew I was on the outs with my woman, and she knew I wasn’t looking for nothin’ serious when I got with her. She always knew there was a possibility I would reconcile with my lady. I told her I’d be there for you, that you’d never want for anything, but it wasn’t enough….”

I turn my back on his lies as if that will somehow shield me from them but they don’t stop.

“Two weeks later I called her to find out about the medical bills and she told me she had a miscarriage, that it was over. She never wanted to hear from me again. That was the last time I spoke with your ma.”

“Get out!” I scream in a wild rage, no longer able to listen to his twisted fiction.

A thick bulging vein throbs angrily in his neck. His shoulders straighten but he doesn’t budge. In desperation I grab for the nearest object, a set of matching ceramic drink coasters, and use all of my strength to hurl it in the direction of the leather-vested man sitting defiantly.

He ducks quickly, escaping the flying objects, and turns his head to watch as they shatter on impact with the wall directly behind him.

“Get the fuck out!” I repeat, this time I’m sure I’ll be taken more seriously.

I know he’s not used to taking orders, but he quickly figures out how to do it, lifting himself and hesitantly walking toward the door. His face is hard to read but for a second he looks… sad.

He moves to speak, but I impulsively grab for the matching ceramic vase and hold it threateningly.

“You know where to find me, Charlie.”

I make sure to lock the door behind him and collapse against it, sliding down until I’m no more than a quivering heap on the floor. The loud tailpipe of his bike breaks the silence of the quiet neighborhood and reverberates through the door, resonating through my already shaking frame.

I sob quietly, unable to take the stress any longer. Everything collides. One man who abandoned me before I was even born, spinning the lies to make himself look innocent. Another I gave my heart to and who left me high and dry when I needed him the most. And finally the man who raised me and made me feel safe, only to now be left a wreck after he’s been taken from me.

Three men, but one thing remains… they’re all gone. I’m all alone. Several long minutes of self-reflection bring me to the realization, the promise I make myself.

I will never rely on a man again.

~*~

CLINK

“You sure about this, son?”

I see the heartbreak my words have inflicted on her. We just got here a few days ago, and I’ve been wrestling with myself for most of that time as to whether or not I should go back, face what I’ve left behind.

I nod, swiping at my sweat-covered brow with the tattered handkerchief. “Yeah, ma. I should go back, see what’s left to straighten out.”

I left Chisolm more than a week ago, needing time and space to clear my head. Too much shit had gone down. Shit that I wasn’t prepared for, that caught me off guard. I did what most men in my position would do.

I bolted. Took the kid and took off for a trip to avoid having to face her, to deal with the deception. My plan backfired, though. Every second of every day is spent going over that last day, pouring over the details. There isn’t one thing about her I don’t miss.

Her voice calling my name, her eyes watching me, her hands touching me, her hair spilling over me, her lips….

I shake the image from my mind and concentrate on the tool in my hand. “But, I was thinking...”

This might help soften the blow.

“How ‘bout the kid stays here with you for a little while?” I know I don’t even have to ask.

All five feet two inches of her are jumping off the ground at the suggestion.

“Yes! That would be great! It would give Brendan some Granny time and give you and Charlie-”

The wrench drops from my fingers, echoing through the wooden garage. Neither of us misses the timing of the slip. I clear my throat to regain some composure and she coughs nervously.

“Well, it’ll give you time to straighten everything out. Then I’ll drive Brendan back to Chisolm and stay for a little while just like we originally planned.”

I smile, knowing that I’ve made her day. The kid will be happy, too, when we tell him. He may not have seen my mom since he was in diapers and I know he didn’t remember her, but something just clicked between the two.

My son hasn’t exactly had a stable mother figure in his life lately between his ma abandoning him and then Charlie….

Another pang shoots through me at the thought of how her lies have affected not just me but my son, and I drop the wrench again.

Fuck!

I pick it up and hurl it across the interior of the building, taking out my frustrations on the object. Mom flinches as the heavy steel device makes contact with the wallboards, and the tone instantly changes.

I grab the sides of my head and run my frustrated fingers through the sweat-dampened hair.

“Sorry,” I apologize for the outburst. “I just got a lot on my mind.”

She nods before I add, “I just gotta get my head straight. I’ll ride Pop’s bike back… leave the truck with you. It’ll give me some time to straighten all this shit out.”

“You remember what your dad told you? About riding preoccupied?” She’s worried about my concentration.

I pick up the crumpled t-shirt from the toolbox and throw it on. “I’ll be fine, ma. It’ll help, trust me. Besides,” I change the subject and nod to the classic Harley I’ve been tinkering with, “this thing needs some work, gotta get it to the shop.”

I noticed the timing was off a little on my ride yesterday. The local kid I had hired to keep the thing running had been doing his best, I’m sure, but this bike needed to be up on a lift. Nothing crazy, but it’s over twenty years old.  A classic antique like this needs a special touch.

Passing her, I kiss her cheek.

“I gotta take a shower, spend some time with the kid. I’ll leave first thing in the morning. Should be back in Chisolm the day after. I’ll hit the store and get you guys all stocked up for the next couple of weeks before I leave.”

She looks skeptical. “I have plenty.”

I laugh. “You got Turtles?”

She freezes.

“Like a pet?” she asks, terrified.

Vivid flashes of my childhood pet and the evil little hamster I named Elvis come flooding back. Out of sight, out of mind. That was mom’s catchphrase when I brought the little furball home. Until the day he got loose and I couldn’t find him when he found his way to mom’s bed. Not only did I have to find Elvis a new home, but pets were never allowed in the house again.

I wrap my arm around her shoulders and we walk side-by-side as we leave the garage.

“Not a pet. The cartoons. You’ve got a lot to learn.”

~*~

CHARLIE

I moan and bury my head in my shoulder, shying away from the poking.

“Charlie… wake up,” another poke, this time followed by the shaking of my arm.

I garner the energy to swat at the culprit.

“Leave me alone,” I mumble, finding my lips feeling like rubber and not moving the way I silently instruct them.

I feel strong arms sliding under me and pulling, the hard surface beneath me now gone.

“Is she drunk?” the voice asks again.

It sounds like Dana, but through some long tunnel, echoing and reverberating, adding layers to her voice where I’m not positive it’s actually her. I feel my weight supported and carried. My chin falls and settles on warm leather. I breathe in deep and recognize the strong woodsy scent of a well broken-in cut. I remember what he smells like when he wears his cut, what the leather vest felt like and smelled like when I wore the one he gave me.

“No,” I thrash my arms wildly, trying to distance myself from the smell and the memories.

“Charlie, stop!” Dana reprimands me. “You’re going to hurt T.J.”

T.J? T.J’s here? I’m so confused.

“Just lay her down on her bed,” she instructs him. “Charlie? What did you take?”

I swallow hard as a wave of nausea comes over me from the bounce in the steps of his gait. Dana’s voice sounds hollow, as if it’s moving. My eyes feel heavy, too heavy to open.

“Mm, ehhhh…” I try to speak.

I feel my legs settle on the cushioning of my mattress followed by my back, my shoulders, and finally my head gently landing on the pillow. The mattress dips.

“Charlie,” Dana shakes my shoulders. “Wake up. What did you take?”

I think back to the bottle of pills in my hand, pouring them out into my palm and swallowing them to cope with Vince’s visit. I try in vain to open my eyes, feeling my eyelashes flutter.

“I—I took a pain pill. My back hurt so bad… but it didn’t help. So, I took another. Then… they both kicked in and I just felt so tired.” I sugarcoat it.

“Fuck!” she exhales.

“Should we take her to the hospital?” the male voice asks.

That’s the wake-up call I needed.

“No!” I try to sit up, my eyes struggling to stay open in slits. “It was an accident, an oversight. I’ll be fine after a nap. I promise. The hospital would have to make a record of it. It could jeopardize my job. Please… just let me sleep.”

My vision is cloudy at best but I can see their shapes, their outlines. Dana hovers over me on the bed, with T.J. standing nearby, arms crossed. They look at each other and I can feel the both of them silently weighing their options.

I smile, trying my best to sound as lucid and clear as possible.

“Really, guys. I’ll be fine. Give me an hour and then I’ll be as good as new. I’m a lightweight. I didn’t realize how hard the meds would hit.” I pull up the comforter and cover myself, snuggling in to take the nap I’ve been negotiating. “I already feel better. Thanks for getting me set up, guys.”

I roll over, turning my back to them, and listen closely for any sign of their leaving, of buying my story. Nothing. I try harder.

“We’ll get some dinner later. Wake me up in time and we’ll figure something out. Just a little nap… that’s all I need.”

Please, just leave me alone. Please, just leave me alone.

My prayers are answered, and they quietly leave me to sleep it off.

CHAPTER TWO

DANA

I shut the door behind me quietly, although I’m sure she’s already passed out.

“I’ve never seen her like this,” I tell T.J.

He doesn’t know my older sister like I do, but he knows enough that this is completely out of character for her. I wring my hands in panic, not knowing what to do.

Do I call an ambulance? No, it’s true. If they suspect drugs then she could face repercussions with her job as a nurse.

Do I call our mom? That would instantly escalate this situation to DEFCON 5.

Do I call Clink? She’d never forgive me.

Or Vince?

I clench my eyes and silently beg for an answer to come.

“Where’re her pills?” T.J. asks, taking charge.

I shake my head. “I- I don’t know. She didn’t have any left.”

He rolls his eyes. “She’s got some. Somewhere. You check her purse, I’ll check her car. Then, make sure you get the medicine cabinet, the freezer, the cereal boxes… everywhere you wouldn’t think to find them.”

I listen to him rattling off possible hiding places and know that he’s being ridiculous. I’ll show him. He’s going to really feel like an ass when nothing turns up.

I watch his leather-clad back depart through the front door, feeling myself get lightheaded in that little flutter that happens every time I see those bad-ass patches that adorn his vest.

The closest thing to a bad boy I’ve ever had was Michael Keefe, senior year in high school. He cut class and convinced me to go with him, spending the afternoon at the beach. The thrill of possibly getting caught skipping school was a turn-on, one that helped me overlook his obvious character flaws. We got to second base behind the sand dunes before I realized that he was a complete ass and waste of my time.

I’d rather have been sitting in calculus than playing tongue hockey with him… that pretty much sealed the deal. To this day, that still remains my one bad-boy moment of weakness although I try like hell to top it with T.J., but he just won’t even take me seriously.

Sure, we flirt. We stare each other down until we’ve made the other blush and we came dangerously close to kissing once. But, he always seems to pull away, to keep me in the friend zone. A flirty friend zone, and it’s driving me freaking crazy.

I know I’m not as mysterious and vivacious as my older sister, or as beautiful as Lil’s. Hell, I don’t even have half the bod compared to Sunny… but I’m cute. I’m funny. I know for a fact I’m at least an eight. I just can’t figure out T.J.’s deal.

I mull over my best attributes some more as I go through the motions of rummaging through Charlie’s jacket, patting down the leather to feel for any medicinal contraband.

Nothing. Just like I thought.

She probably found the lone pill or two left behind from her prescription and decided to take them for that backache she mentioned. That must have been it. I know she hasn’t had much of an appetite since I brought her home from the hospital.

A broken heart will do that to you.

Either you go to one extreme and binge on fast food and Haagen Daz or you practically starve and can’t eat a bite. That’s what Charlie is doing. She’s already lost a few pounds that she can’t afford to lose, and any meds would just mess her up. Especially two pills.

That must have been it. That’s what she said happened, and my sister isn’t a liar.

Well… she wasn’t a liar. Not before she came to Chisolm, anyway. Since she’s been here, she’s done things that she never would have.

I move along to the small dark brown purse and unzip the center compartment. Sunglasses, wallet, keys, cellphone, lip gloss… pills.

Fuck.

“Her car’s clean,” T.J. announces as he re-enters the house. “You find anything, cupcake?”

I turn hastily and hide the plastic prescription pill container in my closed hand behind my back.

I shake my head, “Nope. Nothing. I told you.”

He scans the room like a detective, mentally searching out any missed hiding spot. “You sure you looked everywhere? How ‘bout the freezer, did you check?”

I roll my eyes. “Who the hell would stash a bottle of pills in a freezer, T.J.?”

He crosses the room into the alley kitchen in three large strides, taking hold of the freezer handle.

“My mom. It was her go-to place. Right behind the bottle of Vodka.”

I watch speechless as he pushes aside the bags of frozen vegetables and popsicles. His eyes are determined, set on his task as he hunts for his proof. The muted thudding of the rubber seal marks the end of his unsuccessful quest.

My hand closes tight around the cylinder I protect, waiting for him to turn his attention to the utensil drawer. With a second of opportunity, I step away.

“I’ll check the bathroom,” I hurry down the hall, setting the orange vial on the vanity behind closed doors as I pace back and forth in the tiny space.

What the hell do I do?

I take a deep breath and stare at the pharmacy label. Yesterday. It was filled yesterday. I was there right next to her when the doctors reviewed the post-op instructions. They weren’t even sure she’d need the pain meds and had recommended not using them at all if she could avoid it, but if it was absolutely necessary then she could use them sparingly for only five days.

It’s been seven.

I gave her the last of her original pills days ago. There were no refills, and I have no idea how she got this bottle. I take the cap in hand twisting quickly before I think too much about it and pour the dozen or so small, white, chalky, ovals down into the sink.

They clank and clatter against the smooth porcelain, echoing in the open basin before settling near the drain. I’m quick to turn the knob, starting the heavy stream of cool water that lifts them before carrying them off down the drain.

There. Done.

I take a breath of relief and finish my plan, carrying the empty bottle out into the living room area where T.J. is preoccupied with searching the bookcase for hidden contraband.

“Here,” I hold out the evidence. “I found it in the trashcan in the bathroom. Empty. I guess she took the last two.”

T.J. moves close to inspect but I’ve carefully hidden the label in the crook of my thumb to hide the date. He eyes it, his gorgeous brown eyes fixed on the plastic as if he’s trying to decipher its meaning.

“Huh,” he seems disappointed in a way. “Guess I was wrong.”

He attempts to take the bottle but I smile and signal that I’m going to toss it in the garbage.

“This isn’t like Charlie, T.J. My sister’s not a druggie.”

The lid of the kitchen trash can is barely closed as I realize how my words must sound to him in light of the recent revelations about his mom.

Fuck! There I go again, shoving my foot in my mouth.

I try to backstep, quickly.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with being a druggie. I mean, I’m sure tons of perfectly normal people take drugs. Maybe not the people in the news, or the crackheads on the street corner, but I mean, just because I’ve never done them doesn’t mean that--”

“Do you always do that?” he asks, in a light tone.

My eyes squint under the weight of his playful gaze. “Do what exactly? Search my sister’s home for narcotics?”

He rolls his eyes.

“No. Try to talk your way out of things.”

I shrug my shoulders, embarrassed. “Depends.” He laughs at my response, so I take advantage of his amusement to apologize. “I’m sorry about your mom. I didn’t mean to imply that she….”

He blows it off.

“She was. No use in trying to sugarcoat it. But, could’ve been worse.”

It strikes me as odd that he feels it could have been worse. My mom and I get along most of the time and she’s the closest thing to a real-life Donna Reed that I can imagine, so I have nothing to compare to his experiences, but I can’t imagine how it could’ve been worse.

“So I guess she’s better now?” I ask optimistically.

T.J. shakes his head, “Nah… OD’d when I was seventeen.”

For the briefest moment, his eyes are no longer the mischievous, playful ones I’ve come to know. They darken, showing flashes of pain and heartache.

“I’m so sorry, T.J.,” I whisper. “You were just a kid.”

Then, just as quickly as they changed before, his eyes change once more, back to their usual flirtatious and coy pools of liquid mystery that cause me to lock onto his stare.

“Don’t fool yourself, cupcake. Haven’t been a kid for a very, very long time.”

The innuendo and comes across loud and clear as I catch myself following his trail of visible tattoos hoping they’ll magically reveal the ones I have yet to see.

“I—is that how you got caught up with the Kingsmen? Grew up too fast and started to hang with the bad boys?”

I feel proud of myself, having figured out at least some small part of his story. Feeling self-conscious as the target of his attention, I move to distract myself, and hopefully him, as I catch him dipping his eyes low to my scoop-neck tee.

I grab the broom and begin to sweep up the dozens of pieces of broken glass or whatever this is on the floor.

“Not, exactly.” I lose sight of him as he disappears into the kitchen behind me. “Around the time my mom got hooked, there was a crazy drug problem in Chisolm. They were finding their way into the schools, the jails, everywhere you could think, brought into town by a rival MC, the Slayers.”

He reappears shortly with a dustpan, bending down to help scoop up the mess I’ve collected in a pile. My legs feel like they’ve turned to stone, caught in quicksand, unable to move as he crouches low nearly between them to gather the pieces.

I hear my heartbeat deep in my ears, thudding loudly and forcefully to the point I fear I may grow deaf. He begins to speak once more and somehow I manage to hear him, his smooth, sexy, voice stoking the flames his closeness has ignited.

“The Slayers were supplying the very dealers that sold to my mom, essentially killing her. No one had the balls to do anything about it, not even the police. No one except the Kingsmen, that is.”

He carefully takes the shallow shovelful of shards and rises, the crown of his head, his short and lustrous wavy hair growing closer until he stands tall, nearly ten inches taller, dwarfing me.

I feel vulnerable, defenseless to his - I don’t know... magnetism that keeps pulling me to him. That thing he oozes that makes me want to fall in his arms, hoping he’ll catch, and just do this already.

I swallow hard, hard enough to hear. I hope he didn’t. The little smirk at the corner of his lips makes me think he did.

“School wasn’t really for me… tried the whole community college route. The only thing I had was my bike and a part-time job delivering furniture. One day, I walk into the Kingsmen’s shop to make a delivery of some file cabinet, and I thank Vince in person for helping to get the dealers out of Chisolm. Told him about my mom and that I really admire what they were able to do.”

When I get to the point that I can’t take the closeness anymore, I step away, conveniently giving him a path to the trash for his dustpan but also giving me the breathing room I need.

“So, Vince offers me a job doing tune-ups in the shop. Sure beat hauling furniture all day.” He rids himself of the now-empty plastic apparatus and rinses his hands under the tap while finishing. “After some time they begin to trust me. I finally got the courage to ask about prospecting after working there about a year. Vince sponsored me himself. Hardest two years of my life.”

Once his hands are clean, he bends low to splash some cool water on his face. Huh… it’s not hot in here. Small, clear beads begin to trickle down the sharp angles of his jaw, his neck, and finally collect at the collar. I follow the trail, fighting every urge in my body to lunge at him and lick it with my tongue.

He makes good use of the nearby dishtowel and swipes at the damp mess before tossing it aside.

“All clean?” I ask, mockingly, as I admire the slight glisten to the wet areas he missed.

He laughs, stepping closer. My stomach tightens.

“Babe, I’m as dirty as they come.”

My eyes widen, my breathing stops.

Holy Shit! What do I – what does anyone say to that?

I’m running out of time, he’s almost reached me. What would Charlie say if Clink said that to her?

“Then maybe we need a shower?” I blurt out. “Clean you up real good?”

He licks his lips, and they instantly plump, begging me to touch them. His eyes pin me, forcing me to stumble back as he approaches. The broadness of his shoulders is like a perfect line of symmetry, bulging and growing larger, more intimidating,

I resolve to hold my ground, fixing myself in place, preparing for the moment.

“And what would you do if I said yes?” he teases as his finger lifts to play with the low neckline of my t-shirt, tracing the thin covering to the cleavage.

The sporty cologne he wears is intoxicating, filling my lungs and more than a little responsible for filling the lining of my panties. I feel my lashes flutter and watch through them as his lips lower.

“What exactly would you do if I told you to strip and then carried your naked body off to the shower where I showed you just how dirty I am before I wash my come off you?”

I feel my eyes roll back, my knees give way.

“Whoa there, cupcake!” He slides his arms under my shoulders to catch. “That’s what I thought you’d do. And that’s… why we’re not going to do any of it.”

I lift my head lazily, still feeling the aftereffects of his words, but slowly regaining focus.

“You’re here, doing the right thing to help your sister, but, you’re not part of this life, Dana. You’re a good girl. Good girls don’t do well around guys like me. It gets them killed.”

And that sobers me up real quick.

CHAPTER THREE

CHARLIE

“What do you mean you threw them away?” I shout in a whisper at Dana, even though we’re behind closed doors.

“You were passed out for over ten hours, Charlie! Do not try to tell me that was from two little pills. Now, I know you’re going through some shit, so I’m cutting you some slack. But… you don’t need pills. You need to pick your big girl panties up, get your ass in the shower, and go back to work. Enough of this sulking.”

I can’t believe she threw them all out! Does she know how hard it was for me to get that prescription? And how even harder it will be to get another? Doctor’s don’t really fall too easily for the whole ‘I threw my pain pills away by accident’ shtick.

“Dana, you had no right to go through my things. I wasn’t going to take them anyway. It was just in case,” I tell her.

She nods, smugly. “If you weren’t going to take them, then it’s no big deal. I’ll by you some Tylenol in case you need it. But, we really don’t have time to argue about this. You’re going to be late for your first day back to work.”

Oh my God! She is so… so…

“I’ll pack you a lunch while you finish getting dressed.” She leaves me before I have any chance of answering.

She’s right about one thing. I have no time to argue with her right now. My first shift back at work is tonight and I’m not risking getting written up for being late. I’ve already been spoken to about the disruptions in the surgical waiting room from when Clink went ballistic. Anymore marks on my record and I could be on thin ice.

I quickly finish drying my hair and dressing in my uniform, still fidgeting with my lab coat as I join my sister in the kitchen.

“I don’t need a big meal, Dana. I usually just survive on coffee and a sandwich when I work an overnight.”

She puts the finishing touches on a salad and snaps the lid tight, handing it off to me.

“Have a good day at work, dear,” she jokes.

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I’ll try.”

T.J.’s sitting on his bike, propping it up with a leg on either side, playing on his phone in the driveway. He speaks up without looking at me as I fumble with my car keys.

“You good to drive?” he asks aloud.

Great. Another person to whom I have to explain my life.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I snap back.

His eyes peek up, assessing me. I shift, putting my hand on my hip.

“You got something to say, T.J.?” I’m harsh.

He purses his lips, shoves his phone in his pocket. “Sure do, but nothing I’d say to the Prez’s daughter.”

He starts his engine, drowning me out.

“Good!” I shout.

He revs the throttle and holds his hand up to his ear like a cocky asshole, insinuating that he can’t hear me.

Stupid biker.

I flip him off and continue to load my things into the car, peeling back out of the drive dangerously fast, but as soon as I check in my rearview mirror I see him, tailing me… following me on the orders of the club.

No matter where I go, what I do, I can’t seem to get away from people watching over me.

It’s getting old. Real fucking fast, too.

~*~

At least he has the decency not to follow me into work.

I wonder if it’s in the biker handbook to give the person you’re tailing the courtesy not to follow them into their place of employment, or if T.J. just happened to throw that little ditty in on his own.

A small bouquet of flowers was left at my seat in the cardio nurses’ station, with a little Welcome Back card from my co-workers. I make the rounds to thank as many of them as I can, but the halls are sparsely filled this time of night.

I know some of the other nurses don’t particularly like the overnight shift, but it’s a blessing to me right now. The floors are quiet with no nosy people around poking in my business. No people to make fake conversation. Only a few of the other nurses are close enough with me to have known about my relationship with Clink, and I’m glad none of them are around for me to have to explain everything.

Tomorrow morning when I get off my shift, I’ll be able to sleep away most of the day and avoid everyone that way, too. It’s a win-win situation and I’m so glad for it at a time like this.

A stack of charts takes up most of the early part of my shift, notating the prescription changes and procedural entries. Nothing like a little monotonous, mindless work to get your mind off your troubles.

“Good to have you back, Charlie.”

I lift my tired eyes up to the handsome baby blue scrub-clad doc with the sky blue eyes and short manicured chest hairs peeking from the deep v-neck top.

“Hey, Doctor Walker--”

“Harris,” he corrects me. “Please, call me Harris.”

He’s mentioned this a few times over the last few months, starting with the time we met in the ER on one of my first shifts. It was also the first time he asked me out.

I blush, feeling embarrassed. “Harris,” I give in.

There’s an unspoken protocol in the hospital. One that could lead to endless whispers and cattiness if broken. Act too chummy with a doc and it’ll almost certainly lead to rumors of you fucking him.

God help you if you actually are fucking one… the nurses treat you like a mistress after their own husband. Doesn’t stop most of these ladies, though, as some of these docs make it a personal mission to bag as many nurses as possible. Kind of like collecting notches on their stethoscope.

“How are you feeling? I was concerned when I heard you were still in pain.”

I look around to make sure no one is witness to our friendly exchange that could most definitely start some gossip.

“Pain?” I ask.

He folds his arms along the high counter and leans forward. “I had lunch with Dr. Jacobs yesterday and he mentioned that he called in a script for you. I hope you don’t mind, I asked him how you were doing.”

I set my pen down on the unfinished charts, silently thankful for the distraction.

“I-I’m fine, really. I would never take anything that could impair my thinking while working,” I’m quick to add.

Dr. Walker places his hand on top of mine. “Relax, Charlie. That’s not where I’m coming from. I really am just concerned about you.”

My eyes slowly lower to take in the sight of his large, manicured hand over mine. I’m too nervous to take back my own hand.

“Uh, thanks, Harris. It – it hit me a little harder than I though it would, but I’m fully recovered now. Just tired, is all, adjusting to the new schedule.” I try to sense if he’s being honest about his innocent intentions.

“Good to hear. Please, let me know if you need anything, anything at all. I’d like you to think of me as a friend… not just another doc around here.”

His perfectly symmetrical smile is worthy of a magazine cover, with his classic blue-blood looks.

“Thanks, Harris.” I blink to break the uncomfortable look between us. “I’ll try to remember that.”

He taps my hand. “Please do.”

We’re interrupted by the beeping of his pager, and my hand is finally freed as he holds the small black device up.

He looks disappointed. “Gotta run, Charlie. ER’s getting full.” He places the  archaic yet medically necessary means of communication back on his belt clip. “See you later?”

I nod, smiling tightly, not willing to commit myself to actually seeing him later.

He winks at me, his gorgeously long lashes flirting their farewell. Once he’s gone, and I’m left alone with the unfinished work, I can’t help but appreciate the attentions of someone who isn’t covered in tattoos and leather.

~*~

CLINK

“Where you goin’, daddy?”

His plump cheeks are full, the little crumbs of his sandwich escape between his words.

“I’m goin’ to work, champ. You get to visit with granny for a little while and then you two are going to come home where I’ll be waitin’ for ya,” I explain as I toss the small pile of clothes into my duffel bag.

“I wanna go, too!” He pouts, his chubby little legs kicking at the air under his seat at the table.

I zip up the bag and toss it aside, landing with a soft thud on the ground closer to the front door. Bending down, I take his sticky little fingers in my hand.

“Bud, we talked about this. I need you to help me. Gran is up here all by herself. She gets lonely. Your visit makes her so happy! I need you to stay here and keep her company,” I can see I need to pad this a little bit.

“I need you to protect her, to watch things around here for me. Be the man of the house.” I watch as he absorbs my words.

His tiny face scrunches in contemplation, and his eyes lift hopefully. “Protect her?”

I smile, nodding. “Yup.”

He nods slowly, “I’ll stay here, daddy.”

I lean forward and kiss his forehead, mussing up his hair as he mulls over his new role.

Satisfied that my job is done, I pick Brendan up, swinging him round to my back where he holds on tight, squealing with excitement. I carefully balance him as I reach down to pick up the duffel and carry the two heavy objects out to where ma’s waiting next to dad’s old bike in the drive.

“Got a special delivery for ya,” I announce as I hand my son off to her.

He holds his arms wide for her to catch “Granny. I’m the man of the house. Daddy says.”

She laughs at his self-imposed title and nods to me, laughing. “Thanks, Bri.”

Tying the old army duffel of my pop’s to the back of his bike, I’m careful to secure the straps tight.

“I’ll call you guys tonight when I get to a motel.” I give each of the family members a kiss on the cheek and straddle the bike, kicking the start and bringing it to life.

The loud rumble roars and revs under me, igniting the excitement that only this bike is capable of. Taking off down the drive, I look back in the rearview and see Brendan waving wildly as mom hangs on tight.

~*~

I hand the twenty-dollar bill to the gas attendant.

“How’s the coffee in there?” I nod over to little luncheonette attached to the service station.

The young kid counts out my change from the pile of singles in his pocket. “It’s decent. The pie’s real good, though.”

I take back the seven or so dollars and crumple it in my pocket. Good pie and decent coffee… just what I could use after five hours of riding.

“Thanks, kid.”

My bike is left parked in front of the old-fashioned lunch spot. Almost every head in the place turns as I enter, worn from the road. This isn’t exactly home turf but the patches on my back have enough of a reputation to warrant the whispers.

The old, worn, vinyl stools are mostly abandoned, so I take one near the far end of the long counter.

“What can I getcha’?” The waitress is cute, in a small-town kind of way.

“Coffee. Black. And pie… I hear the pie’s good.” I place my phone down next to me on the table surface as I settle in.

The coffee is poured, sloshing around in the beat-up old mug. “Made the pie myself. It’s cherry in case you were wondering… real sweet.”

I watch as the black lace of her bra peeks through the open buttons of her tight waitressing uniform. The bright red lipstick is slathered on thick.

“I’ll bet it is, darling,’” I sip the hot drink and wince as the metallic tinge hits my tongue. Ehh… not great, but it’ll do the trick.

I drink my coffee black but in this case I’m willing to make an exception. I pour the sugar from the dispenser to make the coffee tolerable. Just as I replace the glass jar next to the napkin holder, the screen to my phone lights up.

“Yeah, bro,” I greet T.J. “’Sup?”

The reception’s not great. “Just your girl… high as a kite.”

I drop the mug down hard on the saucer, spilling some of the contents. “What’d you say?”

The speaker crackles. “Your Ol’ lady. Seems she’s picked up a little pharmacological hobby.”

I sit back.

“Shit.” I breathe deep. “You positive?”

There’s a small pause. “Found her myself, passed out on the floor. Pretty sure her baby sister is covering for her.”

T.J’s been around long enough for me to know his backstory. His ma was an addict back in the day. It killed her, too. If anyone’s qualified to spot the symptoms… it’s him.

“Thanks, bro. I’m on my way back to town, anyway. Was gonna stop, but I think now I’ll just ride straight through. Should be back late morning. You keep an eye on her till I get there.”

I push the coffee away, spilling some more in the process and balance the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I count enough bills to cover the tab.

“Yeah, Vince already put me on her tail days ago. She’s getting’ bitchy about it, though.”

I laugh to myself. I’ll bet she is.

The waitress saunters up, holding out a plate of pie with the fork rattling against the dish as she walks. I notice her top’s been unbuttoned a bit more, practically spilling her tits out on the whipped cream coated dessert she presents me.

“I’ll call you when I get back to town, bro.” I disconnect the call and slip it back into my pocket.

“Sorry, darlin’. Gotta bounce.” I stand, settling the bill.

She eyes the wad of cash in my hand and whines. “But you haven’t even tasted it yet.”

She tilts the plate back, purposely letting the massive pile of swirled cream drip onto her chest, melting and falling in between her boobs. I swipe my finger in the gooey, sugary, mess on the plate and lift it slowly to suck on it hard, arching my eyebrows at her as I devour it.

Her mouth drops open.

“Nah,” I decide. “I’m more of an apple pie kinda guy.”

The small amount of caffeine has helped a bit, but I find I have to concentrate on keeping my eyes open and on the road as I leave the rest stop behind. With all the thoughts running through my head right now, it’s not the easiest of tasks.

Charlie’s no saint by any means but this shit just ain’t like her. Sure we smoke up every once in a while, but the shit she’s into now….

I got a tip late yesterday from the orderly I paid off at the hospital, Enrique. He’s been keeping a close eye on things over there and tipping me off when things happen, like when she was released, her post-op appointments, when she was scheduled to return to work.

I wasn’t however, expecting to hear that she was shopping around for a refill on her pain meds. But, who’s to say for sure who is and who isn’t in pain? It isn’t like I’d ever had a spinal tap or donated bone marrow like she did.

But, that information combined with T.J. finding her passed out the very next day? Too much of a coincidence for my liking. If I hadn’t already been on my way back to Chisolm, this alone would have been enough to get my ass back on the bike to go home.

I glance down at the speedometer and calculate the distance and time. Then, I accelerate faster to cut it down. At this rate, I’ll be back just in time to catch her when she gets off work.

See what she has to say for herself.

CHAPTER FOUR

CHARLIE

“Have a good night, Maude.” I greet the large woman near the automatic doors on my way out of the building.

“A good morning, Charlie.” She laughs, nodding over her shoulder through the glass doors to the early morning sun outside.

I smirk, and shrug my shoulders. “Semantics. I’ve got to adjust to these night shifts, Mo.”

She chuckles. “Don’t we all… no more vacation for you, doll.”

Mo’s such a little firecracker. I salute her like a sailor and crack a smile. With Mo… you just gotta take it and shut up. She’s been here before most of us and kind of runs the show behind the scenes. She’s one person you don’t want to piss off. The woman got her nursing degree eons ago, back when nurses were nothing more than glorified orderlies. She doesn’t look kindly on us newer professionals showing her up, and I’ve found myself on the wrong side of her radar a time or two.

“Shit!” I stop in my tracks and turn my back quickly, nearly dropping the bag in my hands at the sight of the leather-vested man leaning up against the old Harley parked next to my Jeep in the small employee parking lot.

My heart begins to race uncontrollably, unevenly. My vision begins to blur and distort as I instinctively reach out for something to hold onto. I drop the large purse from my hands and feel my ankles turn to jelly, threatening to collapse as I reach for the larger, older nurse nearby.

Her sturdy hands grab hold of me and help to ease the fall as I lower to the floor, landing on my hip.

“Charlie?” she asks, her voice rising. “Nod if you’re having trouble breathing.”

I feel the heat creeping up, and claw and clammer at my neck to pull loose some buttons. Despite the quick, heavy, breathing I find only a small stream of oxygen entering my lungs… just enough to keep me conscious.

“Slow and steady, child. Even breaths.” She does her best to calm my sudden affliction.

I close my eyes and do my best to block out the image of the sexy son-of-a-bitch who’s waiting outside, stalking the lot.

How does he know I’m here?

I curse myself under my breath. How does he not know where I am? He’s got his network of spies. No doubt T.J. sold me out, all but giving him a printout of my daily schedule.

I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready to see him.

Not here, not now, not ever.

“I-I just need to catch my breath,” I try to excuse my little episode.

Ancient or not, the nurse in her tells Mo to grab my wrist and search for my pulse. Once found, the pressure is steady until she finds what she is looking for. I can see her eyeing the clock on the wall while her lips mumble and move, keeping count.

My arm feels heavy as she holds it, heavy enough to fall hard when she releases. She squints her eyes and ponders something.

“All right, child. Let’s get you down to the E.R. and see what the problem is.”

I bite my tongue and hold back from putting up an argument. I’m not one to be babied or coddled, and I sure as hell am not one to bring attention to myself… but if playing along and pacifying her prevents me from having to walk out those doors and coming face to face with the man who ripped my world apart, then I’m on board.

I nod to the greying woman who tends to me.

“I think that’s a good idea.”

~*~

I pull at the thread-bare cotton blanket to cover just a bit more of my shaking body, but it provides no warmth. The hissing of the oxygen mask is low and steady, adding to my chill.

I breathe deep and let the pure medical-grade oxygen fill my lungs and rejuvenate me. I can finally think clearly… as long as I don’t think of him.

The lights in the E.R. are bright, unforgiving to the eye when lying back and forced to look up, but nonetheless necessary. I close my eyes to avoid them, and try my best to relax, relishing the crisp oxygen.

I get several minutes of peace until the curtain opening draws my attention as the sliding metal sounds swoosh across the track.

“Just when I think I can go home, one of my favorite nurses decides to pay me a visit.” Dr. Walker enters, carrying a clipboard.

I take the soft plastic air mask off, knowing that I won’t be able to speak without sounding like a fish as long as it’s on.

“Hey Dr-“ I stop as he tilts his head, anxiously waiting to see how I’ll finish the greeting. “Harris,” I finish.

He flips the top page of the chart. “Looks like everything’s within normal limits here. How are you feeling now?”

I sit up. “Much better. It was just low blood sugar, I think, and some back pain.”

His eyebrow arches at the magic word.

“Pain?” He asks. “I thought you’re taking something?”

Fuck.

I forgot he knows about the prescription. I think quick on how to back out of this. “Um… it doesn’t really manage it all that well, so I just deal with the pain.”

Dr. Walker’s pen clicks and he begins to scribble loudly on something leaning against his clipboard. A small, white piece of paper is torn clear of the pad and handed over to me.

“This should take care of the pain, if the other last meds haven’t been working. Just make sure to only take them when you have at least eight to ten hours of rest time, so no taking them before work.”

I’m stunned, and take the thin paper between my fingertips. I don’t know what to say. He handed over the script so easily.

“Th-thank you, Harris. I really appreciate your doing this.” I quickly fold the slip and tuck it in my pocket.

“And now… we’re going to fix the low blood sugar.”

I tilt my head. “We are?”

His thin lips break into a smile, showcasing his perfectly white teeth. His eyes twinkle and his face grins, the short stubble of an overnight beard making him look a little rugged.

“Yup. Breakfast. You. Me… and this great little waffle house across town.”

Wow… that was smooth. I think of the prescription in my pocket and know there is no way to gracefully turn him down.

I try to configure this all, to see how I can possible make this work. I would never, ever, have accepted a date from him. Well… maybe in another life I would have, before coming to a place like Chisolm, as he’s exactly what my type used to be.

But since I’ve seen the other type of men out there, the kind that make my body scream and connect with my soul….

Wait!

What am I talking about?

That’s the type of guy who got me into this mess in the first place, that nearly destroyed me. On second thought, maybe I should give Harris a chance. He’s educated, successful, polite… everything that looks good on paper.

He’s safe.

“Breakfast sounds great. Just give me a few minutes to freshen up… that is… if I’m discharged?”

He signs off on the slip, officially releasing me from my little E.R. visit. “I’ll meet you downstairs by the employee entrance.”

With a quick little wink that’s boyishly cute, he leaves me be to wonder what the hell I’ve just done.

~*~

Thank God I have a spare set of clothes stashed in my locker. I don’t remember exactly when I made the decision to keep them there, but I’m thankful regardless, and it keeps me from looking like a shapeless marshmallow in my scrubs.

The skinny jeans and fitted top are slightly wrinkled from being crumpled in my metal employees locker but it’s still an improvement. I throw on a gauzy little scarf and touch up my makeup before heading down to find Harris exactly where he’d said he’d be.

I swallow hard and build up enough courage to look beyond him out the doors to where Clink is still perched. I can’t help but notice the stark contrast in the two men as I shift back and forth between them.

The windows and doors are tinted against the sunlight but Clink lifts his eyes from his phone just as I’m taking him in, somehow aware of it.

It’s been nearly an hour since I first saw him standing guard out there, and a small part of me is surprised he’s stuck it out and is still there, even if he’s unaware of what’s behind my delay.

I guess I had subconsciously wished he would have given up and left, made this easier on me. But then again, Clink never seems to be that considerate to what might be best for others… just himself.

Bastard.

“You all right, Charlie?”

Harris can see the building frustration, no doubt, on my face as the man outside, once the man of my dreams but now the man of my nightmares, is getting me worked up again.

I pull myself together, and decide how best to handle all of this.

And then it hits me.

If Clink is thinking he can just bombard me as I go to my car… then, boy, is he in for a surprise. Let’s see if he likes the little show I’m going to put on for him.

“Me?” I turn on my charm, reaching for his arm and locking elbows with him. “I’m better now, actually.”

I lower my shades, knowing my eyes will be a dead giveaway to Clink.

Harris leads me to the exit, as the mechanical doors work their magic and put us on full display to my fucked-up suitor blocking my car in with his Harley.

As soon as we clear into the sunlight, I make sure to laugh heartily and as femininely as I can, squeezing Harris’s arm.

I see Clink jump to attention, straightening up from his slouched position and ripping off his sunglasses.

I should win a damn Academy Award for the acting job I’m putting on right now. Harris seems to be eating it up and, although he doesn’t know it, he plays right into my plan by taking advantage of the moment and moving his arms to rest over my shoulders, pulling me in tight.

“I’ll drive,” he volunteers.

I laugh again, this time letting my hair whip around.

“Anything you say, doctor.” I seductively play with him.

He seems to like it, and so I up the ante, loud enough for Clink to once again hear.

“Especially if it includes bed rest.” I continue to look straight ahead to where Harris has pointed his car key, at a shiny black Jaguar convertible, but let my eyes spy, hidden beneath the sunglasses, my periphery where Clink is looking dangerously close to attacking.

I broaden my smile as Harris opens the passenger door for me. I settle into the butter-soft leather and enjoy the chivalry as he closes the door before making his way around to his side.

The car hums to life before he’s even entered, the engine starting, the windows lowering, the flexible convertible roof opening to allow us to bask in the warm rays of sunshine.

Once he’s seated and buckled in, I shift closer, gracefully picking up his hand to set on my thigh.

He licks his lips at how forward I’m being, unaware that it’s an act, and his fingers begin to knead into the tight denim that clothes me.

The powerful purr of the imported engine sounds like a tiger waiting to pounce on its prey as we back out of the hidden reserved parking space and slowly navigate our way through the lot.

Clink turns to watch every movement with the low-set car giving him the advantage of seeing everything, including the good doctor’s hand massaging my upper leg,

I lift my hand to comb through my wavy hair just as we pass him on the passenger side. I laugh once again at Harris’s dull humor, but secretly howl with silent satisfaction as I stick my middle finger up at my stalker and flip him off while driving off with another man.

Life is good sometimes… especially when it has an unexpected opportunity for revenge.

“I must say, Charlie, I’m surprised by the sudden change of heart. I’ve been asking you out for months now,” Harris voices his approval of my acting skills.

Oh crap! Now that Clink is left behind and no longer a spectator, I can’t really drop pretenses. I smirk and try to make the best of the situation.

“What can I say? You saved me.” I say, referring to his treating me in the E.R. just a little while ago.

He smiles.

We turn right onto Elm Drive and then quickly park in front of the Waffle Hut. He cuts the engine and we sit in silence for an awkward moment.

I move to open the sleek door, but he calls out.

“No, don’t. Let me.” I pull my hand back and watch as he comes around to help me out like a perfect gentleman.

I blush just a little. Mom would die happy if she saw how Harris is going out of his way to be a polite. A perfect, non-biker, non-tattooed, non-smoking, gentleman.

The décor of the Waffle Hut is straight out of any 1970’s breakfast joint. The yellow and orange color scheme is slightly nostalgic and eerie in its own right.

“It’s not much…” he quickly looks to explain, “but you’ve got to try the Belgian waffles.”

A sweet little old woman named Edna takes our order of the famous waffles and some bacon before setting us up with coffee and leaving us to ourselves.

“So…” I search for something to say. “Where are you from?”

I’d always gotten the impression that he wasn’t from around here.

“Rhode Island. I left home when I went to Medical School in Texas and haven’t really been back since,” he narrates.

I sip the coffee and do my best to seem interested. His explanation settles the question regarding his mixed accent.

Harris’s eyes raise to the front entrance he’s faced toward. “Excuse me, Charlie. I’ve got to take care of something.”

I nod to signal that I’m fine by myself for a moment. He pulls down his scrub top as he stands and disappears behind me. Maybe it’s my curiosity getting the best of me, but something makes me turn to watch as he walks away.

Immediately, my eyes settle on his ass, rating it and comparing it. It’s not bad… not by any means, but I can’t quite put my finger on why I’m not loving it. Maybe in some jeans, my mind begins to wander, dressing him. Maybe in some boots, some leather--

I mentally scream at myself, reprimanding myself for subconsciously biking him up.

A shady looking guy sitting alone near the door is also watching the doc. He seems to make eye contact with my impromptu date and I see the back of Harris’s head nod as he passes the tan-skinned young guy.

Once he’s cleared the other man’s booth without stopping, the sitting man stands and follows Harris down a side corridor toward the restrooms. Something’s odd about the interaction… off somehow. The darker-skinned man definitely moved to follow Harris, yet they didn’t even really acknowledge each other in passing.

The sound of dishes placed on the formica table breaks my attention.

“Here ya go, sweetheart. Enjoy.”

Edna sets a massive pile of golden deliciousness before me. I know it’s not polite, and I know it’s against everything my mom raised me to believe, but I don’t have the willpower to wait for my companion to return before stealing a bite.

One little slice of perfectly beautiful crispy bacon is all it takes to offer some distraction to the shitty morning I’m having. I haven’t allowed myself more than a second to deal with the emotions Clink’s return has stirred up.

I know I can’t go there… not now. So… I do what my mom would call ‘eating my feelings’, and I devour another piece of bacon.

CHAPTER FIVE

“After you,” Harris once again proves his debonair gentleman status by holding the metal-framed Waffle Hut door for me as I balance the doggy bag of waffles carefully.

True to his word, they were hands down the best I’ve ever had, though I notice he didn’t touch his much. They were cold by the time he eventually returned to the table.

I’ve never witnessed someone take as long in a restaurant restroom as he did, and I made sure to pay attention to when the other man returned to his table. Not only did Harris spend an obscenely long time in the men’s room, but so did his friend.

Also, the man didn’t even take his seat to finish his coffee. He just… left. Very, very weird.

I don’t know Dr. Walker well at all, and I can’t help but wonder if he, how do I say this? Plays for both teams? Could that have been what he was doing the whole time?

It’s not something I care to ask about, and despite my little performance earlier, I have no intention of getting close enough for it to even be a factor.

We nearly reach the car when I notice something just doesn’t look right. Harris stops short next to me.

“What. The. Fuck?” It’s odd hearing that language from such a gentleman, and I do a double take as I watch him storm past me to circle around his very expensive luxury car, wondering what the hell he’s talking about.

“My tires!” His explanation has me immediately searching the two tires I can see, but it takes me a moment before I notice.

They’re flat.

A sudden realization hits me like a ton of bricks and I begin to look around frantically. Left and right and left again until I see him.

Two blocks down the street, on the opposite side, is Clink… leaning against the same bike I saw him near earlier, and nonchalantly playing with his fingernail.

I begin to clench my teeth, tightening the muscles in my jaw, fighting against myself to stomp off and throw these waffles right in his face before kicking him--

“Charlie? Is that you?” I turn on my heel, my eyes still daggers.

I can see out of my periphery that Harris notices the man approaching me, although he’s very much preoccupied with the very flat tires.

Blue, one of the more, er, colorful, Kingsmen, clad in his leather and a white bandana tied around his forehead, walks toward me on the sidewalk. His bike is parked just a few spots behind us.

I stand in shock, but Blue seems to have expected it, with a hidden smile on his lips. He leans forward and gives me a kiss on the cheek. I growl in his cheek, low enough for Harris not to hear.

“You jackass! I know you had something to do with this!” I whisper through gritted teeth.

“Charlie? Do you… know this person?” Harris joins us, wary of the tough-ass biker. I’m guessing Blue’s not the type of company the good doctor is used to keeping.

“Blue,” the shmuck extends his hand. “I’m a friend of Charlie’s. Work for her pop, too.”

Harris cautiously takes the outlaw’s offer and I can’t help but notice the drastic difference in hand size between the skilled medical professional and the criminal as they shake.

“Dr. Walker,” Harris puts extra emphasis on his title, a stark contrast to his not liking when I myself use the term.

Blue is at least a head taller than the smaller doctor, and it’s obvious that he’s a hell of a lot stronger, too. And he’s not even the largest Kingsmen either! Clink could take Blue any day of the week--

Shit!

There I go again.

My momentary lack of resolve with my thoughts reminds me of the asshole down the street and I turn to watch his take on the scene playing out for him.

His arms are crossed, but he rubs his chin with the nearest hand, seeming to laugh as I wish massive diarrhea on him.

“You havin’ some trouble here, doc?” Blue walks around the car, bending down to inspect the nearest tire. I’m impressed with his own flawless acting skills as it seems as if he’s seeing the damage for the first time.

“You got a spare?” he asks.

Harris stands above the biker, both watching the rubber as if it’ll suddenly fix itself.

“I’d need four,” Harris point out.

Clink moves to take sight of another tire. “No shit?” He then nods.

He stands, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Well, doc. Let’s get you a tow.” Blue whips out his cell. “Just so happens, Charlie’s pop owns a garage. We’ll get you fixed up.”

Blue winks at me as he steps away with the phone to his ear to make his imaginary phone call.

“Well, this is convenient,” Harris notes, genuinely thankful.

I bite my lip. “You have no idea.”

“Tow truck’s on its way. Should be here in less than a half hour. The driver can give you a lift anywhere you need. But,” Blue nods to me, “no use in Charlie gettin’ stuck.”

He walks over to his bike and grabs the helmet from the handlebar. When he returns, he hands it to me.

“I’ll make sure she gets home safe and sound,” Blue volunteers.

Harris returns his attention to his imported car, hand pushing through his hair in utter astonishment. “Uh... uh, yeah. That’s probably a good idea.”

And just like that, the game has played out just the way its mastermind had intended. I’m less inclined to play along, so Blue buckles my helmet and steers me along back to his bike.

I have to hand my doggy bag to Blue seated in front of me, while I swing my leg over the tall Harley.

He lifts it to his nose, sniffing. “Smells good. You gonna eat this?”

“Choke on it, motherfucker.”

Blue hands it back to me when I’m situated and he laughs as he starts the engine. “There’s the Charlie I know.”

We leave Dr. Walker behind as the bike hightails it down the road. We pass Clink and Blue signals him with two fingers in a mini salute, although the bystander’s gaze isn’t fixed on him.

It’s set on me.

Anger wells up in me and I’m not proud of it, but I let instinct take over and I hurl the thin bag of syrupy waffles at him full force.

We pass quickly and I don’t get to benefit from the results, but it makes me feel just a wee bit better.

~*~

CLINK

I kick the Jaguar’s fender hard enough for my boot to dent it. I decide that the damage isn’t enough… so I kick it again.

“Whoa!” Dewey walks up behind me. “What’d it ever do to you?”

He claps his hand down on my shoulder, but I shrug it off, hard.

“Just see that it gets fixed,” I tell the head mechanic. “And put a tracker on it. I want to be able to see where this piece of shit is, whenever I want. Vince here?”

“He’s inside. Take it easy, though, brother.” Dewey begins to rub his hand over the indentation, shaking his head. “Fuckin’ shame. This here’s a beaut.”

I turn toward the clubhouse, leaving the car where the flatbed has left it.

“It’s a fucking tin can with an expensive price tag.” I rip off the driver’s side mirror in passing.

“Ah, fuck!” Dewey stands back as my violent rage plays itself out.

A few of the other brothers witness my tirade and clear a path for me, knowing that this is no time to get in my way. I’ll knock each and every one of them flat on their asses if they so much as say a word to me.

I find Vince soon enough nursing a beer at the clubhouse bar, sitting next to Jay. They both look up as the afternoon sun fills the dark room with me entering.

“Well, look what the fuckin’ cat dragged in,” Jay stands up and holds out his arm to give me a bro hug, but I sidestep him, still growling.

His eyebrows shoot up and he watches amused as I move behind the bar to grab a dishtowel and begin wiping at the drying maple syrup all over me.

“The fuck happened to you? You smell like Goddamned Aunt Jemima.”

Vince’s smart-ass comment earns a round of laughter from the nearby brothers. I shut each and every one of them up with nothing more than a look.

A look that lets them know just how dangerously close they are to a beat down.

A look that let’s them know I’m in no mood to be fucked with.

Many of them nervously busy themselves with sipping on bottles or averting eye contact.

I angrily take off my cut and throw it at the nearest prospect.

“Clean it,” I order. He obeys, disappearing with the vest.

“Well?” my president repeats his unanswered question.

I grab the nearby bottle of Jack and swig from it. “Your daughter. That’s what happened.”

Vince breathes deep, as Jay can’t help himself and busts out laughing, spraying his beer across the room.

“Let’s talk in private,” the older man suggests.

I take the bottle of Jack with me.

I’m gonna need it.

~*~

Vince leans back in his chair, balancing it on the two back legs, clasping his hands behind his head.

“I’m in a bad spot here, Clink,” he starts. “You know I think of you as a son, a brother. And I respect you. Now, I know shit between a brother and his Ol’ lady is for the two to work out between themselves… but this is a unique situation.”

I’ll say.

I take a swig of the strong whiskey in my hand.

“You know her better than I do,” his face falls at his realization, “but, judging from…” he eyes the mess splattered on my shirt, “that… I’d say she’s very similar to me.”

I take another swig.

“I know that if I were in a position like her, I probably wouldn’t take very well to you throwin’ yourself in my face right now. So, I’m goin’ to ask you to use some better judgment. For everybody’s safety.”

Another swig.

“You left her in a bad way, brother. One that I’m not so sure she’s out of yet. If there’s one thing the Cauley’s are pretty good at… it’s self-destruction. I don’t need nothin’ pushin’ her over the edge, you get me?”

A slow, drawn-out sip.

“She fucked up, you fucked up… hell, I’ve fucked up. No one’s innocent in this here situation. But, cooler heads need to prevail. If she’s not capable of doin’ that right now, then I need you to step in and do it for the both of you.”

One more swig.

“She’s a grown woman. One that has proven she’s willing to go to any lengths to get what she wants. If that’s you… then she’ll come around.” He swallows hard. “If not… then I need to know that you’re gonna do the right thing and walk away.”

I tilt the almost emptied bottle once more and gulp deep.

“I know that’s not our code, not our way. But… I need to contain this shit as much as I can. I need to know you’re not gonna make this more difficult than it already has the potential to be. I have a lot to make up for with her… I’m not going to risk her bolting to get the hell away from you, losing the chance to do just that.”

I finish the bottle.

I feel the warmth trickle and spread outward from my throat and deep into the far recesses of my body. My lips, my tongue, begin to tingle and are curiously close to going numb.

My president watches me for a reaction. When he doesn’t get the exact one he’s looking for- an agreement- he settles instead for a lack of a disagreement.

I feel my eyelids growing heavy, and closing, only to have me fight against it to try to focus on the old man.

“All right, then. Good talk.”

He claps the tabletop with his open palms lightly and stands. He’s almost out of the boardroom when I’m able to gather the strength and balance to stand. I can’t seem to command my hand to let go of the emptied glass bottle I’m clasping, and so I take it with me as I drag my feet down the hallway, bouncing into walls like a goddamned ping-pong ball until I reach the door to the first crash room I find.

I trip over my own foot and land in the middle of the thin, worn mattress, unable to adjust myself as most of my lower-half hangs over the bed’s edge. My mouth is slightly open, refusing to close, and so I make good use of it and breathe heavily through it.

The last thing I hear is the heavy thudding of the thick-bottomed bottle dropping to the wood floor.

But the last thing I see? The last thing I see is her face.

CHAPTER SIX

“Right there,” she gasped. “A little to the left. Wait… right, more to the right.” Her shoulders flattened out and sunken into the mattress as she moaned out.

“Harder... deeper…” the instructions kept coming. “Oh my God… that feels so good, baby.”

Didn’t I know it.

I concentrated on the tight little area that made her moan loudest. I felt her body turn to Jell-o under my touch.

“Hold on. Not so hard. A little less… but more, too.”

I pulled my hands back. “You gonna write me a fuckin’ manual, babe? Just be still and relax.”

I grabbed some more lotion from the plastic dispenser pump on the bedside table.  Rubbing them together, the lubricant sloshed through my palms and worked through my fingers, heating up before I returned to massaging her bare back.

She’d been so busy these last few days with extra shifts down at the hospital that we hadn’t seen much of each other even though she’d all but moved in. With a little in break in club business that night, I thought I’d surprise her with a little take-out from her favorite Thai place, some candles… and a massage.

First for her… but eventually for me, too.  The best massage she could give me… massaging my dick deep enough to release tension from every muscle in my body like only she could.

Her silky skin moved effortlessly beneath my hands as I kneaded and caressed her tired muscles. Every time I got a little too close to her slender sides, she would tense up and giggle, wiggling beneath me as I straddled her upper thighs.

I had stripped her naked nearly the moment she walked through the door, followed by allowing her to return the favor. Both completely naked, my position, playing masseur, allowed my swollen dick to rest comfortably on her plump, juicy ass. The sensual movements made by my body every time I slid forward to run my hands up her back was inadvertently stroking my cock between the cleft of her tantalizing ass cheeks.

It started out as a nice little surprise, but I quickly found that my body was growing far more excited than I had intended early on in the night.

“I know what you’re doing,” she laughed. “I can feel it. I knew you had ulterior motives.”

I continued to massage myself with her flesh, working my way deeper into the ravine.

“Oh yeah?” I moved my hands, massaging what was left of the fragrant lotion down to the small of her back, kneading circles in the hollow of the indent  where her back melded into her ass with my thumbs.

She nodded her head. “Yup. But, baby… it’s gonna take a lot more than dinner and candles to get what you’re tryin’ to get.”

My fingers got busy trying to convince her otherwise, but the foreplay needed to convince her to take that next step with me wasn’t compatible with the growing erection already threatening to shower itself across her lotion-glistened back.

Next time…

I decided to deepen the massage, to give my woman the “happy ending” she deserved.

“Mmm,” she moaned loudly as we rocked forward together.

I slapped the palm of my hand flat on the cushion of her ass, the target was just begging for the roughened touch.

She breathed deep and dug herself in even deeper, thrusting back into me, showing just how rough she was looking to play. She’s a rare bird, my girl. Gentle and seductive enough to make me want to do things like cuddle and spoon and shit. But other times… man, other times she could get me so fucking hot that I doubted I’d ever be able to ease the burn I had for her.

That night she was giving me all the signs that she was just as pumped, literally, as I was, thrusting to satisfy her as best I could. I folded over her, taking hold of the long, lustrous, hair jostling around with her frenzied movements. Each hand took hold and reined her in, steering and controlling her, and we synced. She took each movement, every ounce of momentum eagerly as I rode her.

It was a delicate dynamic, as the fierce woman beneath me was as feisty and independent as they came. Dominating and bridling that fierceness was a challenge that thankfully didn’t take me long to master.

Her soft grunting gave voice to the excitement, coming together to form the words she spoke.

“Faster,” she begged.

And I obliged.

~*~

Whoa!

The hard floor races up to meet me and I feel the painful thud as it jolts me awake. The harshest impact is on my very erect dick as it bends to the will of the flat wooden surface.

Ah fuck! Tthat hurts.

I manage to crawl up to my knees and grit my teeth through the pain as I curse myself for waking just before the best part of the dream. Not a night has gone by without her invading any bit of peace most people would find in their sleep.

The outcome is always the same. I’m left practically foaming at the mouth with a raging hard-on for the one thing I can’t have right now. And, thanks to the clumsy Jack Daniels hangover, I’ve got a bruised cock to go with it.

I can handle my liquor. Always could.

But drinking the amount I did, as quickly as I did, in the fury that was me earlier today… it wasn’t good. And now I’ve got the damaged dick, the bruised ego and the stink of an Eggo waffle to show for it.

I stumble my sluggish feet toward the small bathroom to take care of at least the latter part of my situation, rinsing the sticky mess from my skin. Enough time has passed since waking in my stupor to reflect on the series of events that landed me in the predicament I’m now in.

It all comes back to the hotshot doctor, the asshole who had the audacity to put his hands on my property. That’s what initially set me off. The games Charlie was playing didn’t help, but I know we can straighten this shit out face-to-face.

She’s hurt, pissed, hell probably even furious at me. I feel the same way about her right now. That’s what’s dangerous about the kind of love we got. When it’s good, it’s off the fuckin’ charts good. But when it’s bad… it’s nuclear.

I just need to sit her ass down and get through the hard shit we’ve got to face before seeing if we can get past it. It ain’t gonna be fun. It sure as shit ain’t gonna be pretty. But… it’s gotta happen.

Yesterday didn’t go like I planned, but I’m not letting shit get off course. If that fuckin’ doctor gets in my way again… I’ll kill him, not just fuck with his pretty little car.

~*~

CHARLIE

My hand moves down to the keys in the ignition once more, tempted to turn the engine and get the hell out of here. But, something stops me. Again.

I don’t have much time, having left the hospital on my meal break, knowing it would be the only time I could slip away from T.J.

What the hell am I doing here?

After everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours, one thing keeps coming to the forefront.

Brendan.

If Clink’s back in town, then that means Brendan could be here, too. I tried to distract myself every which way I could, but nothing worked.

The possibility of seeing him again, of telling him I loved him and I missed him, of explaining why I just suddenly wasn’t there for him… those were the driving forces behind getting me here, parked across the street from Clink’s house.

I’m not ready to see his dad, to deal with any of that right now… I don’t know if I’ll ever be. One thing I do know for sure, though, is that I can’t bear to have that little boy think he was abandoned by another person or to blame himself in any way for our little “family” being broken up.

I only have an hour for my dinner break and I’ve already wasted fifteen minutes of it driving over here and fighting against myself about what to do next. It’s nearly eleven at night and I know he’s asleep by now, but I just can’t concentrate on anything without at least knowing for sure if he was here.

The lights are off, unlike Clink, since he’s usually a night owl. The truck is missing from the driveway, and that strange bike I saw him on this morning is nowhere to be seen.

My stomach is dangerously close to dropping, just waiting for me to accept the fact that… he’s not in there.

I abandon the keys to rummage blindly through my purse for the little bottle. The quiet of the dark is broken by the plastic rattling before my fingers find what they seek.

I don’t have a drink with me but I’ve gotten accustomed to swallowing the pills dry. They have a wicked aftertaste but it hasn’t stopped me yet. With Dr. Walker, er… Harris, believing my story about my previous pills not taking care of the pain, I find that these new pills he’s prescribed are way stronger and unfortunately taste worse than the last.

With the prescription filled almost immediately after I left him this morning, I’ve been careful not to go through them too quickly, knowing that it’s going to be more and more difficult to procure the next batch.

Just as I decide I can’t bear to watch the childless house any longer and turn the key to head back to the hospital for the second half of my shift, the telltale grumbling of a powerful tailpipe can be heard in the distance growing near. It’s speed is faster than I realized because it drives past my parked car almost immediately after I recognize it, pulling right into… Clink’s driveway.

Shit! It’s him.

It’s him.

I become disoriented as my blood pressure drops instantly, afraid of being caught… afraid he’s recognized my car in the dark as he drove by. My foot slams on the gas pedal and my trusty Jeep lurches forward with an unexpected amount of inertia.

As if the screeching wheels weren’t enough to capture his attention as he dismounts and shakes off his helmet, the crashing metal sounds of the garbage cans I crash into seal the deal.

I close my eyes and mutter the foulest curse words under my breath at my own stupidity. I’m trapped in a pile of large aluminum trashcans that have probably awakened the entire neighborhood as they still continue to rattle and roll around from the impact.

I can see their shadows in the dark even without my headlights on. Shaking my head, I command myself to regain some sort of focus to complete the task of shifting into reverse to make my escape.

Once I’ve recovered enough to take hold of the gearshift, I hear the high-pitched creaking of the metal hinges and whip my neck to face the car door.

“What the hell are you tryin’ to do? Kill yourself?” Clink yells as he reaches over me and somehow finds the ignition in the dark, ripping the keys from it.

It’s all happening so fast and I try my best to process it all. His words. The crash. The sounds. The feel of his body briskly rushing past mine as my flesh instantly recognizes his and screams internally for more. The scent of the well-worn leather mixed with the crispness of the night on him from his ride. I feel my eyes roll back at the overwhelming concoction of all these things.

“Charlie!”

I feel him shaking my shoulders harshly, with the keys in his hand rattling from the force. I snap awake, unaware that I even fazed out.

“Hmm?” I hear myself and it’s like everything has suddenly switched to slow motion as my reply is never ending.

His fingers now press into the skin above and below my eyes, pushing to open the lids wide.

“Babe?” he asks. “You high?”

The syllables seem to stretch themselves and echo, ringing in my eardrums while I translate and decipher their meaning. It doesn’t come easily and I find myself struggling to comprehend their meaning.

I breathe deep and move my head to be free of his touch. It burns. That’s what’s doing this to me… he is.

Amazingly, somehow able to control motor functions, I address him for the first time since begging him not to leave my side nearly two weeks ago.

“G- get off of me you asshole!” I swing my arm wildly and make contact with his neck, hard, pushing him away.

I feel my head wobble, angled down in the general area as I fumble with the buckle to the seatbelt. Clink attempts to assist but every move he makes is somehow an outward attack and I fight him off.

The tight pressure across my chest disappears at the release of the safety device and I lurch forward out of the car. His large, strong, hands save me from contact with asphalt but I resist them once I’m standing on my own two feet.

I stumble backward, away from him, as my feet clumsily search for stability.

“What did you take, Charlie?”

I hold up my hand as he begins to approach and it works. He stops. With a blink of my eye there is now two of him, so I hold out both hands, wildly blinking each eye from one to the other.

How did he do that?

“D-don’t come any closer. Either of you,” I feel the paranoia growing with my rapidly beating heart rate.

“I’m not going to ask again. Tell me!”

The both of them lunge forward, a coordinated attack as I leave his question unanswered. The cross-body purse, somehow magically still draped around my shoulders, is taken forcefully by my assailants.

He’s strong, but I put up the best fight I can, clawing and grasping to no avail.

Contents are thrown out as he searches. My compact, my lip-gloss, my hairbrush, they all litter the pavement by our feet as he continues to search.

I hear the rattling of the pills against the confines of their plastic walls and know he’s found it.

The orange container is held away from me as I try to swipe through the air for it, but it’s held high above his already towering height.

My leather bag is dropped and I feel its weight on my feet. I abandon the fight for my medicine to scoop up my belongings and hurriedly sweep them back into the open bag.

“You have no right!” I yell at him.

The pills jingle one last time as he shoves them into his pocket. “I have no right?”

I stand up sharply and do my best to appear composed as I adjust my bag securely.

He steps closer, a wildfire in his eyes. It scares me.

“I have every fucking right.”

I breathe in deep, searching through my temporarily limited vocabulary to attack him verbally.

“Give me my keys, Clink. I don’t have time for these games. I have to get back to work.”

I hold out my hand.

“I ain’t giving you back anything. You think I’m gonna let you drive like this? So you can kill yourself? So you can kill someone else? Not gonna happen.”

I bite my lip and feel the wild breaths escaping my mouth as they make a wispy sound. It’s no use. I know him well enough to know he’s dead serious.

“Oh yeah?” I ask as I busily search through the bag. I hold my phone up in victory. “Well, I don’t need you to give me my keys. I don’t need anything from you. Harris will come get me.”

His lips curl up in a most evil way. “You must be talking about your little friend from this morning. Harris? Is that his name?” He laughs wildly, barely being able to catch his breath. “Harris! That’s priceless.”

“Dr. Harris Walker,” I’m sure to emphasize the title.

Recovered from his hysterics, he begins to rub his hands together furiously. “Please. By all means… call Harris. Bring that sonuvabitch right to me and save me the trip of finding him myself.”

His knuckles crack against each other as he readies his hands for the damage I have no doubt they plan of inflicting.

I swallow hard.

“Let me teach the good doctor a thing or two about touching someone else’s property.”

I picture the mess that will be Harris’s body once Clink has gotten through with him. I can’t be responsible for that.

I punch the numbers into the screen of the phone and hold it up to my ear. It rings. “I’m not your property, asshole,” I murmur to him as I wait.

Clink continues his preparations. His neck is stretched, making a god-awful sound as it also cracks not just in one direction, but then the other. The vein protruding on a diagonal slant down that thick neck is throbbing violently.

“This is nurse Griffiths,” I announce into the receiver as he watches, practically foaming at the mouth for me to deliver his victim to him. “I’ve had some car trouble on my break and won’t be able to make it back. Could you please sign me out as an emergency?”

I wait for the reply from the nurse’s station as Clink eyes me curiously.

“Thank you,” I end the call.

“Wha-?” He’s disappointed that his blood lust won’t be quenched tonight.

My next call is made quickly as I interrupt the agitated biker in front of me from speaking further.

“Could you come pick me up please?” I ask. Clink’s stepping closer as if he’ll magically hear the voice on the other end. I step back. “Thanks. I’m outside Clink’s house. Don’t ask. Just get here quick.”

I shove the phone back into the depths of my bag, satisfied that I’ve found the one way around Clink’s little powerplay.

“Afraid little loverboy won’t be able to hold his own?” he voices, sarcastically.

I laugh. “He’s not an animal, like you.”

His eyes somehow darken even more than they already are. “Don’t kid yourself, Sugar. You like the animal in me. It’s the only thing powerful enough to tame you.”

I summon the strength through the lifting fog over my mind from earlier. “I don’t need to be tamed. I don’t want to be tamed. And you’re no longer in a position to even try.”

He roughly pulls me in, close to him, held in the tight vice of a grip of his massive arms. I’m pressed up and left immobile against his rock-hard chest. The coarse stubble of his day-old shave is rough against the skin of my cheek, scratching as he angles his chin down, his lips dangerously close to mine as they whisper in a growl.

The massive bulge between his legs presses into me and he moves to deepen the effect, knowing full well I feel the entirety of it against my stomach.

“You know what you need. I know what you need. You can fool yourself as best you can, Sugar, but you can’t fool me. I know right now you feel my rock-hard cock against you and you’re fighting against everything in you not to admit that you want it… that you know it’s the only thing capable of making you feel this way.”

I whimper as it twitches against me, knowing the power it harnesses. His lips are so close to mine as he speaks that I feel his tongue flicker against his teeth with his sounds and use all the restraint in every ounce of my being not to part my lips and take his mouth in mine, to fight that dirty tongue with my own.

“I know you’re mad as hell at me and even madder at yourself for wanting to give in, let me throw you over my shoulder, smack your ass hard enough to make it hurt just the way you like it and to I carry you to our bed where I will make you scream over and over just how much you fucking love when I tame you as you come hard enough to forget how much you hate me right now.”

My knees begin to wobble and I’m not sure if it’s the disorientation that caused the car crash or his words that are responsible. Our bodies meld together in sync as our heart rates, our body temperature, our breathing... everything matches.

For just the briefest of moments, it seems as if all of our problems, every issue could be solved by just giving into each other. That it could be something as simple as admitting the need we have for each other. That’s all that matters isn’t it? Everything else is just background noise.

The only parts of our bodies that aren’t touching are our lips, and that’s quickly rectified from the harsh hands behind my back pulling in once more.

“Just say yes, baby. Say yes and I’ll do it right now. We’ll work all the other shit out and it’ll be just like before. It’ll be better.”

His lips tickle against mine as he speaks, pleading his case, coming dangerously close to winning. I feel his hot breath on me and gasp as it causes me to flashback to all the times that heat spread over me.

It could be this easy. I believe him.

I moan deliciously as his hand reaches up and grabs the thick hair above my neck, holding tightly.

“Say yes and I will make sure your only regret is every second you hesitated before doing it.” His red-hot tongue darts out to caress my lip and I whimper, parting my own lips to play along the next time it happens.

Who am I fooling? What makes me think that I have any right to fight against something that is so magnetic, so hypnotizing, like the connection between the two of us?

“Y-” I’m ready to admit defeat but am interrupted by the bright headlight that’s just turned the corner and pinned on us as the loud Harley approaches.

The moment is broken, shattered as we both look to our intruder with blinded eyes.

“You called your brother?” he asks.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jay stands uncomfortably before us, with his recently parked bike cooling.

“You two cool now?” he asks, confused, as he’d seen us wound up in each other’s arms as he approached before I cautiously step away.

Clink nods, reaching out for me. “We’re good, Jay. I’ve got this.”

My mind takes advantage of the moment and gains some clarity. I shake Clink off.

“No… we’re not.”

Clink looks confused. I can see Jay drop his head. Both men are obviously not happy with my answer.

“Just because we have some…” I move my hand wildly between the two of us, “attraction, or whatever the hell this is, doesn’t fix shit, Clink. It’s broken. It’s destroyed.”

“All right, you two. Let’s not let this get out of hand. It’s late, Charlie, I’ll take you home. You guys can talk this out another time,” Jay intervenes.

“Bro, don’t get involved. This is between me and my Ol’ lady.” Clink draws his imaginary line in the sand.

Jay rolls his eyes. “You two think I wanna be in this position? The last place in the world I wanna be is between your dick and my sister,” he answers his longtime friend.

I begin to feel guilty for having called him.

“But, as long as you two got this bad shit goin’, I’m not about to turn my back if she needs me” Jay steps right up to that invisible line and comes face-to-face with Clink.

I feel something I’ve never felt before. I don’t even know what it is, but it’s good.

Jay turns to me, “Say the word, Charlie. If you tell me to go… I’m gone. If you want me to take you home, then I’ll do that, too. It’s your call.”

I’m caught between the two bikers, one on either side, as they stare each other down.

“I need to get out of here,” I announce and take the helmet from Jay as he offers it to me.

I’m busy buckling the chin strap as he takes a minute to finally notice my Jeep. “What the hell happened here?”

“Driving while impaired.” Clink sells me out in a heartbeat.

I snap my head around to face him and scowl. “Don’t you dare!”

The evil gleam to his eye is back. “Oh no, baby. You wanna get your brother all mixed in with our shit? Then he’s gonna get ALL mixed in.”

Jay turns to me. “What’s he talkin’ about?”

Fuck.

~*~

“Two coffees, black, and a plate of fries.”

Jay waits for the waitress as she writes down the order on her little pad. I feel his eyes on me but find that I can’t meet them. I do anything I can to avoid the look of disappointment that I know is in them.

I stare at the salt shaker, the paper placemat, the little table-top jukebox, the neon lights through the window… anything to distract myself.

“How long’s this been going on?” he finally loses patience with me.

I exhale deep. “Nothing’s going on, Jay. I took a few pain pills for my back since the procedure. Nothing illegal. Nothing that wasn’t prescribed.”

I can’t believe I have to explain myself. I can’t believe Clink ratted me out.

“How many you got left?” he asks. I search his voice for the hidden judgment that should be there, but can’t seem to find it.

I shake my head, “None.”

It’s true. Clink took the last ones.

The waitress sets down two saucers, one in front of each of us, with a generic-looking mug atop.

“Thanks,” he acknowledges the kind woman, before she sets the steaming plate of crispy fried potatoes between us. “Could we have some honey mustard?”

The woman smiles and nods, taking the request before leaving us. I grin.

“What?” he asks.

I take a sip of the coffee. “Nothing. It’s just… I like honey mustard on my fries, too. Never met anyone else who does.”

Jay arches his eyebrow. “Guess it’s a gene thing.”

We both laugh.

“So… about the pills…” He redirects the conversation right back to where he wants it.

“Jay,” I blurt out. “It’s over, really. I promise. It’s just… it’s been rough.”

He purses his lips, “I’m not gonna go through all the people who need for you to not go down that road, Charlie. It’s too long. You’re a Cauley, whether or not you want to admit it. I think I’ve always seen it in your eyes without actually recognizing it. It’s a strength.”

He sips his steaming cup before adding, “And of all those people, all those reasons for you to turn this thing around before it turns into something bad, the biggest one is Brendan.”

The mere mention of the small boy’s name is enough to break my heart and cause an immeasurable amount of guilt to well. I feel a lump forming deep in my throat, blocking words from escaping.

“All things happen for a reason, sis.” The title seems odd, but ironically soothing, coming from him. “I have to believe that. There’s no way that all the shit between Lil’s and I could have worked out the way it did unless there was a higher power working to set things right. You coming into town just in time to help save Pops… there ain’t no other way to explain that either.”

I’d never thought about what would have happened if I hadn’t made the decision all those months ago to move to this little town…

“And I know it doesn’t seem much compared to those things, but you coming here proves something else to me. See… I’d watch people like Lil’s and her older brother, Tiny, and I’d feel like something was missing. A part of me felt like I needed that, like I was not whole. Turns out… I had it the entire time, just didn’t know about it. It’s not something I’m lookin’ to give up anytime soon, sis. So you don’t do anything stupid to go fuckin’ it all up like getting mixed in with pills, ‘kay?”

I close my eyes and listen to his words, taking them in and letting them set deep. They’re not judgmental, their not condescending…. they’re just honest. It’s not a way I’m familiar with, having not heard that heartfelt, genuine, concern since my dad, before he passed.

“Jay, I mean it. It’s over. Done,” I make the resolution, fully determined to carry through with the promise.

My new brother smiles and grabs a fry, scooping it through the small well of deep golden mustard.

“Good. ‘Cause Brendan needs a ma. He already lost one getting hooked on junk.”

Whatever strong resolve I may have had due to Jay’s earlier points has just been trumped by perhaps the most important reason yet to straighten this shit out.

~*~

“You’re home early.” Dana’s voice is groggy.

I fully expected her to still be sleeping at this hour, seeing as the sun hasn’t even begun to rise yet. I shut the door and toss my keys into the decorative bowl on the table before kicking off my nursing shoes.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a long story.” She listens as she pours a cup of tea from the kettle. “Since when do I have a tea kettle?”

She may be tired but she’s awake enough to laugh at my question.

“Just picked up a few things from the store. Want some?” Dana holds up the pretty-looking metal handle, tempting me.

I nod, “Why not?”

The pouring liquid splashes and streams into a second cup as I breathe in the rich aroma from across the room.

“I wanted to talk to you, Dana.” I hadn’t planned on doing it at five in the morning, but sometimes an opportunity just presents itself.

Her eyebrow arches in curiosity as she sets the ceramic cups down for us, sliding into the seat across the small table.

“I wanted to apologize.”

My confession catches her slightly off guard. “For?”

I take a long sip of the hot herbal tea and plan my words.

“They way you found me the other day…” I begin.

She interrupts. “You scared the shit out of me, Charlie.”

“I know, Dana. I’m sorry,” I breathe out. “I know you did what you needed to by going through my bag and-”

“I shouldn’t have done that,” she’s quick to add.

I shake my head, disagreeing with her. “No. You were right to do it. I was getting out of hand.”

She eyes me, knowing that I don’t easily admit my wrongs.

“Charlie… I know you have a whole new family, a new life, but-”

I reach out for her slender hand and take it in mine. “Dana, you’re always going to be my sister.”

I’m not sure if she believes me. A small glimmer of a tear appears in the corner of her eye and she avoids my gaze.

“I lost daddy, too, Charlie. I know you never really liked me but I can’t lose my big sister, too.” She sniffles.

I swallow. “Dana. It doesn’t matter if we didn’t always get along. You’re my baby sister, we’re not supposed to get along all the time. But, there’s always going to be a place for you in my life. And I promise… no more stupid shit, Okay?”

She squints her eyes. “No more pills?”

I smile. “No more pills.”

We both drink awkwardly in the moment.

“So…” I’m not very good at the sisterly conversational skills, as we’re usually screaming at each other. “T.J.”

Her almond-shaped eyes roll sarcastically. “He’s so confusing.”

I laugh. “He’s a biker. They don’t exactly come with a manual.”

Her eyes shine and dance with just the mere mention of the man’s name. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like this before when it came to a guy.

“Listen, Dana. I have to tell you I don’t think it’s a good idea. He-” I search for the word to accurately describe the kid. “He’s got some baggage. Lil’s had a friend from college that T.J. was kind of sweet on. She was murdered, brutally, and he’s always blamed himself. I’m no expert on this stuff, but I know enough where it’s not something I want you getting mixed up in.”

The brief excitement I saw painted on her face when it came to T.J. is now crushed.

“Besides,” I add. “You have plans, Dana. You just finished culinary school. You want to open your own shop. I don’t want to see you get distracted.”

She nods. “I know. You’re right. It’s just- it’s just that you’ve always had something special about you, Charlie. Everyone saw it, growing up. Everyone. I never felt that. I was always the Plain Jane in the background. But with T.J… I don’t know. When he looks at me, it’s like he sees something special. It makes me feel like I am something special.”

I can’t believe the words I hear her say… my entire life I’ve been the one jealous of her! She has the girl-next-door classic beauty that women would kill for, that I never seemed to be able to pull off. Her sass and her vivaciousness make her one of the most interesting people to me… she’s never boring and always unpredictable.

How could she think she was nothing special?

I have vivid flashbacks of the way I felt growing up and remember the things mom had said to me. Let’s just say motherly advice wasn’t her strong suit. I’m not going to repeat her mistakes and perpetuate the cycle any further.

“Dana. You don’t need anyone to make you special. You’re already one of the most special people I’ve ever known. But, I know the feeling you’re talking about. I’m not going to tell you how to live your life. You’re the one who’s going to have to look back on it in fifty years and figure out if you lived it the way you wanted. We both had enough of other people telling us how to live. You do what’s right for you, just make sure you think through whatever it is.”

I hold up my half-empty mug to toast her and the decisions she’ll have to make soon. Her own mug is held high and clinks against mine as we seal the agreement.

“Cheers!” We both laugh.

~*~

I quickly throw on the nearest t-shirt, not noticing how thin the material is until I’m already heading down the hallway. It’s not like I had much time to dress. My hair is still soaked, for God’s sake.

Dana knocked on the door letting me know I have a visitor just as I began to towel dry. I had heard the front door and just assumed it was T.J. arriving for his daily assignment of spying, or “watching over” me as he likes to claim.

Learning that the early morning visitor is someone other than who I’d expected is a little alarming. When the fuck did I get so popular?

I feel the tissue thin fabric of the shirt molding to my still-moist skin as I hold my hair up, fiddling with the small towel around it to secure it.

“Are you sure I can’t get you a drink? Some coffee? We have tea, too. You must be so tired from your shift.”

I can hear Dana’s well-rehearsed offers of hospitality and my curiosity is peaked.

I stop short once I turn the corner to spot Dr. Walker standing in the middle of my living room. His eyes instantly hone in on my super short yoga bottoms and threadbare top. The surprise of seeing him startles me and cause my nipples to harden, pressing against the nearly invisible shirt that I’m cursing myself for wearing.

“Uh… Harris?” I cross my arms conspicuously as he devours my tits with his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He steps closer to me, with Dana shooting me death stares behind him mouthing “What are you doing?” under her breath.

The scrub-clad doctor with tired eyes and chin stubble moves closer to me, looking eager to touch what he’s been lustfully looking upon for the last few seconds.

“I heard you had some kind of car trouble last night. I wanted to check on you and make sure you’re all right” He slides his hands past my sides to clasp behind my back and bends down to graze my unresponsive lips with his own.

I unconsciously tighten my muscles as I feel his body begin to touch mine. My stomach begins to constrict with discomfort.

“I-I’m fine.”

He holds tight, continuing the faux affection I’d instigated the last time I’d seen him, although his intentions are very real.

“I was worried,” he whispers in my ear.

Dana’s mouth practically drops to the floor at the familiarity Harris is showing me.

“Um- you’ve met my sister? Dana?” I step aside, pushing my arms even tighter over my chest to conceal whatever they can.

“Just as gorgeous as her sister,” Harris reaches out for Dana’s limp hand and raises it to his lips before kissing the flat top like a gentleman from an old-fashioned movie.

She smiles awkwardly. “Thank you, Dr. Walker. You’re too kind. Really.”

Once the man is done with his admiration of my sibling and his attention is turned back to me, the reason for his visit, Dana wipes her hand exaggeratedly against her clothes, wrinkling her face in disgust.

I hold my breath and bite my cheek to keep from laughing and giving her away.

I take hold of Harris’s arm and lead him away from Dana before she unintentionally insults him. My place is small, so unless I want to take our little visit to the steam-filled bathroom or Dana’s room, formerly known as the guest room, the only place to guide him is my bedroom.

My gut is screaming not to do it, not to take him into the sanctuary that will only serve to offer more mixed messages, but I can’t have Dana eavesdropping.

Once the door is closed, Harris turns on his heel, pressing me into the door. His hands seize my breasts, toying aggressively with the pert nipples that have been regretfully enticing him since he walked through the door.

His mouth takes mine hungrily, forcing it to mold to the contours of his kneading lips. His tongue presses against my tight lips, demanding entry, but I’m able to avoid it by shifting to let him dip it instead into crease of my jaw as he begins to suck on the thin skin of my neck.

“I never thought I’d make it into your bedroom so fast. You have no idea how long I’ve dreamt about this, Charlie.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes, hidden from his view.

“Harris. My sister’s outside the door” I hope it works.

I feel his body slump in disappointment.

“When then?” he asks, desperate. “Tomorrow night. We’re both off. Let me take you out, show you how good it can be.”

His hold is tight, his stare is harder.

“I may have something planned. Can I let you know?” I ask, thinking I’ve secured an exit strategy to his invitation.

He nods. His grip is unrelenting, pressing me closer.

“How did you get here?” I ask, looking to break his attention from my body. “Isn’t your car still in the shop?”

His hand slips down, cupping my ass, squeezing.

I jump.

“I’ve got others. Driving the Bimmer today.”

Wow. I pull back, stretching my neck to give some space. “That’s quite a collection of cars.”

He laughs, his hand getting acquainted with every curve of my bottom.

“A man’s gotta have his toys. Gotta spend it somewhere. What about your Jeep? What kind of problems did you have with it?”

I blush from embarrassment. “I crashed.”

His eyes widen, snapping out of his lust. “Are you hurt? How bad was it?”

I shake my head, “No, no. I’m fine. It was so stupid. Crashed into a pile of garbage cans.”

He laughs. “Are you a bad driver? Because, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind doing the driving, but maybe I should know if  you’re a hazard behind the wheel?”

I roll my eyes at him.

“No! I’m a good driver! Really, I swear. I-I just accidentally took one of your pills and it really messed with me.”

He breathes deep. “I was afraid they’d be too strong for you. I’ll get you something else, instead. Something a little easier to function with.”

I’m shocked at his quick offer. It’s tempting… very tempting. Instantly, I remember the vow I made to both of my siblings as well as myself.

“Harris, that’s not necessary” I hastily look for a reason to politely decline his offer before I change my mind. “They’re tracing scripts now. I don’t want you to get in trouble for writing me another.”

His hard lips plant themselves on mine again, doing their best to draw a response this time. I shy away once more.

“I don’t need to write a script this time. I’ve got my own stash, and I’ve got connections. I can get whatever I want,” he’s quick to inform me. “Besides… you can pay it off in trade.”

He slaps my ass and I fight the strong urge to hit him back.

Sensing I don’t have much time before losing my cool and kneeing him in the groin for his pawing me, I fumble behind my back for the doorknob, turning it and shimmying out of the way to allow the door to open.

“You’ve had a long shift, Harris. You should go home and get some rest. I’ll-I’ll call you later.”

He’s clearly baffled by my sudden lack of affection compared to our last encounter and I take advantage of his stunned state to escape his grasp and the bedroom before he eventually follows, reluctantly.

I take deep breathes of air, thankful for my freedom, but stop in my tracks, causing Harris to crash into me, as T.J. and Dana are waiting like two overbearing parents.

I cringe as the popping sounds of T.J.’s knuckles cracking breaks the silence.

~*~

T.J.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!

Does this asshole have a death wish?

Charlie looks like a deer in the headlights, clearly not expecting to have been caught. I never would have expected something like this from her. Ol’ ladies know better than to fuck around behind their men’s backs. This shit isn’t taken lightly.

However bad this is gonna be for her… it’s gonna be a shit-ton worse for this guy. I crack my knuckles and feel the weight of the heavy rings that are about to do some irreparable damage to his pretty little face.

I’m about to do to him what I’d expect any other brother to do in my shoes if they came across the man trying to fuck my woman.

I feel the muscles of my jaw popping as I bite down on an imaginary bit, ready to lunge. I’m like a bull seeing the red flag being waved in front of me, but feel weak hands grabbing hold.

“T.J! This is Dr. Walker. He works with Charlie at the hospital. Just came by to check on her after her little accident last night.”

I whip my head to see Dana’s face as she speaks to me. I know her. At least I think I’ve gotten to know her enough to tell whether she’s hiding anything.

She widens her eyes and sends hard signals with her stare for me to back down.

“T.J., Dr. Walker was just leaving.” Charlie joins her sister in trying to diffuse the situation, knowing full well how quickly and easily this can get real fuckin’ bad.

“Another biker?” the doctor blurts out, unaware how close he is to a punch in the throat.

Charlie grabs his elbow and pulls the fool towards the door.

“T.J’s… T.J’s- uh, he’s my sister’s boyfriend. They’ve got some stuff to talk over so thanks for stopping by.”

Damn, that girl is strong! She’s practically shoving him out the door, closing it and locking the handle, deadbolt, and door chain.

“What the fuck was that?” I finally have an opportunity to ask. “There are so many things that are fucked-up with this, Charlie!”

The BMW that I passed while walking up the driveway is now pulling away, disappearing from the window. Figures. He looks like a douche. It’s no surprise he drives a pussy’s car.

“You’re practically fucking naked, in your bedroom, alone, with him. He’s rockin’ a boner and foaming at the mouth. I gotta tell your Ol’ man. You can do your explainin’ to him, not me.”

“Whoa!” she screams, waving her hands around defensively. “Listen to what you just said, T.J. I’ll take your word that he had a boner. I didn’t really care to look, but if I was secretly bangin’ him, ask yourself why would he be leaving with a boner? Do I really look like the kind of girl who doesn’t finish what she starts?”

I’ve always liked Charlie, but lately there’s been some real tenseness, most definitely from her, thinking I’m hovering and snooping on behalf of her pop and her Ol’ man. She’s right on that count, but it’s not like I got a choice. My prez gives me an order, I’m gonna make sure it gets done.

But, she’s too thickheaded to realize I’m here for her protection, too. She’s been going through some real big shit these last couple of weeks and Vince wants to make sure things don’t get out of hand.

By the looks of the douchebag that just left, I’d say things are steadily getting worse.

“Charlie, I got no choice. If it’s innocent and nothing happened, then you got nothing to worry about. Explain it to your Ol’ man.”

Her face is red, her eyes beading into little black orbs, trying to inflict as much harm on me as they can.

“He’s not my Ol’ man!” she screams at the top of her lungs, loud enough for Dana to jump.

I don’t know what kind of instinct it is, but I reach out to put my hand on Dana’s shoulder. It falls into place right behind her neck, offering her my strength and reassurance as she’s caught directly between her screaming sister and me.

Charlie can see that she’s not getting anywhere with me, so her frustration fixes itself on a new target. Dana.

“Is this really what you want for yourself? To get caught up in this? To be treated like property? It’s not worth it, Dana!”

“Don’t get all pissy and take it out on her, Charlie.” I’m stunned to hear my own voice interrupting to defend Dana.

“Don’t worry, T.J., I’ll go take it out on someone else. Don’t bother telling Clink, shit. I’ll tell him myself. End this ‘property’ crap once and for all.”

And with that, she disappears into her bedroom and slams the door hard enough to cause a nearby picture frame to topple over.

I reach deep into my pocket for my cell, and hold it out to dial Clink.

“No,” Dana’s delicate hand covers the screen. “Please, don’t.”

Her eyes are doe-like, her features soft, full of concern for the sister who just royally bitched us both out.

“Dana, you know you can’t get involved with this stuff,” I tell her as gently as I can without sounding like an asshole.

Her slender fingers wrap around mine, sealing the device in a cocoon. “I’m not asking you to not tell him. I’m just asking you to wait. Let her tell him like she says she will. Then if she doesn’t, you can. Haven’t you had a girlfriend before? You gotta let them try to straighten this out.”

There’s that word again. Girlfriend. Boyfriend. She doesn’t get it.

“Cupcake… I’m a biker. I don’t do girlfriends. If I find a woman worthy of riding on the back of my bike as well as on my cock, she’ll be my Ol’ lady. The real thing. Not some high school shit.”

For the briefest moment, Charlie joins us just long enough to scowl at the two of us in passing, grabbing Dana’s car keys before slamming yet another door, to no-doubt fulfill her promise and tell Clink in person.

Yeah, that should go well.

Chicks are crazy. Every one of them.

“So, I’m going to assume you’ve never actually had a girlfriend, and by extension… never had an Ol’ lady. So my question to you,” Dana shifts, standing dangerously close to my cock, considering the urge it seems to get whenever she looks at me the way she is doing right now, “is maybe you don’t even see what’s right in front of you?”

Hey cherry-red lips practically glow and shine with the sticky gloss she likes to slather on them. I’ve gotten close enough to smell it before, but man do I want to taste it right now, imagining it tasting just like the cherry-pie she made me the other night. Damn it was good enough to practically make me cry.

I trace the plump outlines of each of her lips as they come closer, the buzz she’s giving me, intoxicating me, is bringing my dick to life.

“Why don’t you come find me when you want to talk about this some more.”

Shit! She’s doing it again. That crazy, sexy, cute thing she does where she’s capable of being the sweet little good girl that I want to corrupt in one moment, while at the same time, a drop dead gorgeous, sexy, little pin-up doll that I want to take for a ride and see how fast she really goes.

It’s been like this since the first day I saw her, and it’s getting hard as hell, literally, to hold myself back. The other day, I walked in on her icing some type of cake with this rich, white, frothy shit. When it was finished and set aside she licked the mixing spoon clean with one long, lazy, stroke of her tantalizing tongue.

She didn’t know I was watching. She didn’t know the ache and pain she caused my dick as it struggled to understand why I wasn’t giving it what it wanted from her.

The image stuck with me all damn day until I couldn’t take it any longer and ran to hide behind a closed door like a goddamned thirteen year old to rub one out while replaying it over and over again in my head, imagining my hand was her tongue, working me just like she did that spoon.

She doesn’t know my weakness for good girls. She doesn’t know that she’s fucking bringing me to my knees with every little giggle, with every bat of her long eyelashes.

I’ve had more women than I can remember, one-night stands, sweet butts, club mamas- but man… I have a feeling if I ever let myself get one taste of this chick in front of me now- I’ll never crave anything else again.

Her sticky sweet lips are millimeters from my own, too easy to just take and do everything that I want with.

“I- I gotta get to the clubhouse. Make sure she follows through.”

I turn quickly so she doesn’t see the massive bulge growing in my pants, walking as best I can to mask the signs of it. Damn that woman! I want nothing more than to smack her ass so it’s all pink and juicy and take a bite outta it.

God help me.

CHAPTER EIGHT

CLINK

I extend my neck, high, opening my throat to take all the liquid as it pours down, the foam floating but eventually disappearing as I swallow every last bit.

I slam the heavy glass pitcher down. “Prospect! Another.”

This new batch of recruits is learning fast. It’s less than four seconds before a fresh draft is swapped out with the empty, at least this one has an acceptable amount of foam.

“You gonna leave any for us?”

I answer Blue, “Not plannin’ on it,” before I finish this one, too.

Blue and I have always had a love/hate relationship. I love to bust his balls and he hates it.

A giant pair of barely-covered tits squeezes in between the two of us at the bar.

“Buy a girl a drink?” Sable’s speech is slurred, uneven.

I look down to admire the boob-job. Eh, it looked better a few years ago, but, I guess it’s holding up alright, all things considered. Sable’s considered an old timer around here. One of the long-term pieces of club pussy.

There isn’t a brother, past or present, that hasn’t hit it. Hell, some of us at the same time. Blue’s up at bat now, has been for the past couple of months, kinda steady.

Well, as steady as a guy like Blue can be. He still bags everything that moves, but lately it’s been the two of them doin’ it together. Kinda like a tag team ménage-a-trois.

They say there’s someone out there for everyone. Who am I to judge? If the two of them know how to get the other’s rocks off with the kinky shit they do, then more power to them.

“Nothin’ I love more than getting you all liquored up and then watching you do me, baby,” my sick as shit brother answers his girl.

“Ain’t he Prince Charming?” she asks me, choking me with her heavy perfume.

I nod and smile, raising up my glass.

“I’m gonna go to the little girl’s room, baby,” she licks Blue’s ear. “Be back in a jiffy.”

Once she’s out of earshot, wobbling away in her stripper heels and too-tight mini skirt, I ask aloud to Prince Charming, “Still tappin’ that I see.”

He laughs, taking a swig of the domestic bottle in his hand.

“What can I say, brother? I’m in love.” I nearly spray my beer at him, coughing on it. He shrugs his shoulders and leans back, before finishing his thought. “What? In love with her pussy!”

I roll my eyes. Sick fucker.

The thick wooden door opens. I can hear Blue breathe deep before he stands, taking hold of his ordered drinks to leave me.

“And speaking of… looks like yours just walked in.”

I look past him and see Charlie marching my way, full of sexy determination.

“Beat it,” I order Blue. He winks and takes off, leaving the empty bar stool for my lady to take.

She tosses her bag on the bar top, angrily. I eye it, and fight the urge to make a comment. I know she’s baiting me, looking for me to give her an excuse to go off.

“Prospect! Get my Ol’ lady a Heine.”

That was all she needed. “I’m NOT your Ol’ lady. Take the Heine and choke on it.”

I laugh. Turning to the stunned prospect.

“Squash that. Seems she’s on the rag. Give her a double shot of Jack, instead. Usually does the trick and makes her play nice for a while.”

She’s seething. Can’t help it, it fuckin’ turns me on.

“I’m not here to drink, Clink.” She waves away the shot glass as it’s offered.

Bones, the prospect serving tonight, doesn’t know what to do with it, so I take it off his hands and shoot it down the hatch.

I hiss at the burn on my lips. “Yeah? Good. I’m done drinkin’ for now. Let’s do something more productive with our time…”

I reach around and cup her ass in both hands, spreading my knees and pulling her in.

She’s gritting her teeth, hard enough for me to hear. “Get your filthy hands off me before I knee you in the balls.”

I lick my lips. “How ‘bout I take you and your pissy mood to the back rooms and use these filthy hands to make you come enough to stop acting like a bitch?”

I may be well on my way to getting drunk, but my reflexes are still sharp as a fuckin’ tack. I sense her start to move, and close my legs tight, catching her knee between my thighs before it reaches its target and does some damage.

“That’s not nice,” I drawl sarcastically.

“End this shit,” she demands. “Right here, right now, in front of all your brothers, make it official. Tell them I’m not your Ol’ lady so I can live my life in peace, without them breathing down my neck all the goddamned time!”

Her eyes are hard, resolute. She’s serious.

I release her knee. “Nope.”

She’s speechless.

“You wanna kick me in the balls? Then kick me in the balls. You wanna scream at me? Do it. Do whatever the fuck you wanna do to get this all out, baby… ‘cause that’s what you need to do. You need to get every ounce of it out, I’m losing patience. I told you the day I gave you the patch. It’s for life, or until I say so, and, baby, I ain’t NEVER saying it’s over. You did shit. I did shit. Well, get the fuck over it, ‘cause I sure as hell am. Every night you spend convinced you still hate me is one less night we get to spend fucking each other into oblivion. That the life you want to live?”

Every word I say is ringing true to her, but that doesn’t mean she likes it. I can see the anger welling in her. She picks up the emptied shot glass and tosses it full-force to the mirrored wall of multi-colored bottles behind the barkeep.

The shattering noise is sobering, with many of brothers taking notice and showing interest in my business. I hold up my hand to calm everyone down.

“Go ahead, throw some more shit. Here,” I hand her a nearby abandoned shot glass, “throw this one, too.”

She grabs the mini glass and holds it tight in her palm to get a good throwing grip when a blood curdling scream distracts everyone. Charlie drops the object and we all turn to the back of the room. The music stops.

One of the sweet butts standing closest to Blue, screams again as he holds Sable’s limp body in his arms. Her eyes are open wide, but empty looking, two thin little red streams of blood falling from her nose, one from each nostril.

~*~

CHARLIE

“Call 9-1-1!” I yell to the skinny-looking prospect behind the counter as I run to where Blue’s standing in shock with Sable’s body.

“Blue! Blue!” I have to clap hard in front of his face to snap him out of his shock. “Put her down somewhere flat. Now!”

The man finally comes back to life, sensing the urgency in my voice. He races, carrying her awkwardly, into the club’s meeting room, lying her on the carved wooden surface.

There’s an echoed thud as one of her heavy Lucite heels drops to the floor. I kick it out of the way. I can feel a small crowd gathering behind me, hear the sobbing of women, the hushing of men trying to calm them.

“Everybody out! You!” I point to Dewey. “Get me the first aid kit from the garage.”

I lean over Sable’s lifeless body, pushing my hair behind my ear as I press it on her chest to listen. No heartbeat. Fuck.

Next, I check her pupils, spreading the lids apart. They don’t change. Her lips are cold. I tilt her chin to open her airway and shout, “I need another person to do CPR, quick!”

I watch as a large pair of hands sets in place over her chest, and I recognize them. I recognize the tattoos on the wrists, the heavy golden rings on the fingers. I don’t need to look up. I need to pay attention right now.

“Ready?” I ask him.

Clink nods.

He starts the compressions and we count aloud together, pausing at just the right time for me to breathe into her mouth. We’re able to finish several sets before Dewey clumsily runs in with a white metal box. The large red cross on the front is clearly visible.

“Go through it and shout out what you find,” I’m able to direct him before my next turn at rescue breaths.

“Um… gauze, band-aids, antibiotic cream, Benadryl…” He throws every object behind him and over my shoulder as he clears out the kit. “Aspirin, Epi-pen, tweez-”

“Wait!’ I call to him just as he’s ready to toss the Epi-pen aside. “I’ll take that.”

He hands over the small plastic device as Clink continues his compressions. Both men eye me. I hold the pen-like needle and flick off the cap.

“Alcohol wipe. Dewey, is there a wipe pad in there?” I ask him.

He quickly rummages through the remaining contents of the box until he’s found some and then tears open the wrapping, holding out the small white woven pre-moistened pad for my fingertips.

I’m still not sure if what I’m about to do will even work, but it’s the only chance we’ve got right now. Clink pulls back from her and I wipe the area between her breasts, the cleavage, with the pad, even though I know infection is the least of our worries right now.

I use my fingertips to feel the anatomy to find the exact place I need. Found it. I take a deep breath and raise my eyes to my life-saving partner.

His eyes are full of confidence in me although I’ll freely admit I have none in myself at the moment. He nods. He knows what I need to do.

I line up the tip right above the area of her heart and I can hear Blue call out not to do it. Clink has to hold him back, restrain him. I close my eyes and stab the plastic attachment, depressing the button simultaneously as I hear the clicking of the instrument engaging.

The world stops. I go deaf… either that or the room’s becomes a vacuum and loses all sound. I open my eyes and watch in slow motion as Blue calls out, in silence, as he drops to his knees.

I feel the thudding of my heartbeat ringing in my ears and use it to tell time as I wait for any sign.

It takes at least a dozen heartbeats but I hear a loud gasp. Sable’s mouth falls open and she breathes deep, sucking in the air she needs. I roll her over to her side and hold her as she violently coughs between breaths with a foul mess coming up from her stomach.

It worked. Holy shit, it worked!

The chatter, tears of joy and relief of the room is interrupted by the piercing sirens of an ambulance. I step back, unable to speak as EMT workers push through the crowd beginning their work on the patient.

I’m nearly pressed up against the back wall, using it to support me so I don’t fall. The adrenaline is beginning to fade as Sable’s secured to the gurney and wheeled away.

I know I have to go with her, to give an account of what’s happened but I find I can’t control my movements. I’ve seen trauma before, having done my time in the E.R. but this is different somehow.

“Miss? Excuse me, miss?”

I turn to my right and the short-haired woman wielding a clipboard.

“Ma’am? I was told you were the one to administer first aid to the patient? Do you have a moment to go over the events?”

I hear her words and in my head I’m answering, but nothing’s coming out of my mouth.

“Ma’am? Are you all right?”

I blink. Again the response is formed in my mind, but nothing’s said.

“She’ll be fine,” a deep-gruff voice that I’m familiar with chimes in. I close my eyes and let it take over. “She just needs to sit. Charlie… let’s go over to the corner and go over everything. Slowly. Step by step. Together.”

I open my eyes and nod to Clink. He takes my arm and wraps it around himself as he slides himself up against me to help support me as we walk together to the far end of the room, away from the mess of the make-shift treatment area and the nauseating stench that comes along with it.

~*~

Her pen clicking causes me to jump, startled. It’s been like this the entire twenty minutes. Every little sound, every movement makes me react, and only causes Clink to hold tighter, eyes full of concern as he watches me give answers to each question.

The ones that are hazy he’s able to help fill in for me.

“That should do it, Miss Griffiths. Just sign here for me,” she points to a signature line at the bottom of the official form. “and I’m sure the police will be in touch if they have any questions.”

I nod.

“Th-thank you.”

The woman smiles and heads off to use first response vehicle outside, to follow the earlier path of the ambulance and return to the hospital.

I swallow hard.

“I-I should go to the hospital. Check on Sable.”

Clink takes my hands in his and rubs to warm them.

“Charlie, you’re shaking. You’re cold. You’re exhausted. We can go to the hospital later. Right now, I want you to lie down for a while. You’ve been through hell tonight and I don’t think you should push it.”

I shake my head. “I’m fine. I’m a nurse. I’ve seen this all before.”

He squints his eyes, assessing me. “You haven’t worked in the E.R. in a very long time. And when you did, it was assisting doctors not doing everything yourself, especially on someone you know so well as Sable.”

I open my mouth to argue once more and he silences me, leaning forward to rest his forehead against mine, making shushing sounds.

“Come on,” he whispers, standing and taking my hands with him to follow as he leads out and down the back hallway to the second room we come to, the crash room that used to be his main living place.

The few people who remain scattered about the building are quiet, somber. Most everyone else left a while ago either to go to the hospital or to head home. The room looks like it’s been untouched, but these beds are usually used for one purpose only, so I eye Clink as he shuts the door behind me.

“Do I even want to think about getting under those sheets?”

He laughs while taking off his leather cut and placing it down gently over the back of a chair.

“Sugar, nobody’s been in that bed but me,” he explains. Once he sees that I’m not satisfied, he adds, “Alone.”

I roll my eyes, but when they settle on him again I lose my breath as he pulls his shirt over his head.

Fuck.

I haven’t seen him like this in weeks. I’ve dreamt about it, daydreamed about it, but here he is in the flesh and every inch of him looks a million times better than I remember.

I turn my back to him, “I’m still mad as hell at you.”

I can feel the warmth of his body as he presses up against me, the hot moist air of his breath as he exhales near the skin of my neck. I feel my eyes roll back.

“I know. I’m still mad as hell at you, too.”

He gently pushes my hair out of the way as he lowers his lips.

“You’re alive, and I’m alive. We’re gonna be mad at each other a million more times. That’s just how it is. When you love hard, you fight hard. They go hand in hand.”

I feel his warm tongue spreading over my skin, bathing it in deep sensual kisses, melting me a little more with each one. He’s no longer satisfied with my neck, so he pulls me around to face him, holding my chin hostage in his hand to look at him.

“It’ll take some time, Sugar, but we’ll work through this. Every day, it’ll be work. But I’d rather work hard on it with you than have something easy and meaningless with someone else.”

His lips inch down agonizingly slow to meet mine but pause just as we touch.

“I asked you before, to just say yes- and that’s all you have to do… for the next two hours, at least, I’ll make you forget about everything that’s happened as I worship every inch of you to nearly make you cry. I’ll remind every inch of you to make you remember just how good we are together, and I’ll fuck every inch of you hard enough to make you regret ever even thinking about giving up on us.”

My mouth drops as I imagine just what each one of those promises entails.

“Say it, Sugar.”

I swallow hard but something still holds me back.

“I’m not asking to say yes to forgetting everything. I’m asking you to say yes to taking the first step to working through it. Say it.”

After everything that’s happened, everything I did to him, everything he’s done to me… it never occurred to me that he’d be open, that I’d be open, to working on it.

Here, though, in the dark, our bodies close and screaming out a need for each other, it seems impossible not to do just that. To try.

“Yes,” I whisper.

That’s all he needed, the one word, the one glimmer of hope that we could possibly get through all this.

His lips smash down, claiming what’s always been his. He calls it his property, I call it something else. No matter the title… it’s the same thing.

His.

The intensity of our kiss grows, with the unspoken and unrequited need that’s been building these last couple of weeks breaking to the surface to make itself known.

My hands splay over the skin of his chest, reaquainting themselves with the strong, bulging muscles that make them quiver at the touch. I feel my stomach swirl and my insides whip around like a brewing tornado, as I bask in the wonder of his body as it does its best to possess me.

He growls deeply, and I’m instantly reminded of his strength as his hoists me up high, carrying me over to the bed settling me on his powerful hips. His mouth gets lost in my breasts, nipping, licking, gnawing, and teasing them deliciously as I hold him close.

Once I feel the bed below me stop us from advancing he carefully leans down to set me upon the mattress. I rebound slightly with the bounce from the springs. The new height difference gives me a perfect alignment and position to his body as he stands over me.

I inch forward and kiss the taut, chiseled muscles of his stomach, swirling my tongue around and around as he gasps. His hands weave themselves in the long strands of my hair and I move my affections further and further south.

I multitask and tickle my fingers down his sides, feeling the muscles contract, knowing that he’s extra sensitive in these delicate spots. Once I’ve inflicted enough sensual torment to his firm sides, I trail my fingers to work below my chin on the cold metal buckle, having him undone and exposed in record time.

I feel the velvety-soft, tip of him brush against my lips and let it fall on top of my tongue. His breathing hitches and the wide shaft before me jumps in excitement as I do my best to swallow it whole.

“Fuck!” He pushes his hips forward, assisting however he can.

I moan loudly into him as I tauntingly pull him out ever so slowly, with a hollow popping sound as I finally release him.

“Miss it, baby?” he asks, having taken hold of himself and maneuvering the head around my lips as I chase it with my tongue, wanting more.

“Give. Me.” I confirm.

He laughs. “You sure you can handle it?”

I pull back and snap my teeth loudly to emphasize the seriousness of my request.

He pushes back on my shoulders and my back lands with a soft thud.

“Oh, I’m gonna give it to you, all right, Sugar.” His hands slide up to my hips and he grabs hold of the material bunched at my waist.

“Lift,” he orders.

I raise my hips high and he pulls the leggings along with the panties down, hard.

I shiver with a sudden chill, my knees clamping together to fight against it as the skin covering my legs begins to prickle.

“You gettin’ shy, baby?” he teases, egging me on.

I laugh and drop my knees, parting for him. “Never.”

His large, hot, roughened palms slide down the curves of my thighs, my hips, as he lowers his body.

My eyesight has adjusted to the dark. Through the thick black curtain that covers everything, I can see the outline of his eyes as he watches me while breathing close enough to tickle the entrance to my core.

I stretch my neck, arching my back, eager for the onslaught. My hands fist themselves and squeeze to release tension. I can feel my chest heaving, rising further with each gulp of air in anticipation.

When the heat finally consumes me, with his mouth delivering the liquid magma that brands my body, I cry out.

Just when I think we’re as close as the laws of physics will allow, he pulls me in, filling me with the strong muscles of his mouth, preparing the way for the even larger muscle that will follow.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my… God!” I feel myself shake, the burning patch of flesh that his tongue is making love to, explodes.

My man stands on his knees, inching up as he strokes himself while I attempt to recover.

“Sugar, on your knees.”

It’s like we haven’t skipped a beat, haven’t missed a step. We each know exactly what the other wants, what the other needs. It’s something that’s come so naturally to us since the first time we gave in to the carnal need we have for each other.

I sit up and thank him properly for the heavenly gift he’s already given me, kissing him deep to show my appreciation.

He grabs my ass and kneads deep. “Hands and knees.”

Carefully, I turn and fall forward landing on my palms as I shimmy my hips and wiggle back into him. He takes the hard crown of his dick and rubs it deep into the lubricant, swirling it to coat thoroughly.

“Now that I have your attention,” he knows I’m a captive audience, waiting. “Let’s talk about the doctor.”

I inhale sharply. Oh… fuck.

The deep sting of his palm is felt before the sharp cracking sound can be heard. I tense and hiss. He soothes the biting tingle with the soft pads of his fingertips tickling in broad patterns.

“I know you were playing a game, making me jealous.” Another slap rings out and causes my head to fall. I bite my lip, waiting for his follow up appeasement of cooling the area with a light breathy breeze. “But no man ever, ever, touches you again.”

The last love slap is harshly direct in its placement directly over the last. The erotic pain is lessened by the tip of his cock swirling once more over the swath of space begging for it.

I reach back and try my best to take him in hand to speed up the little lesson he’s attempting to teach. With a little stretching, I grab hold of the girth stroking it soundly, amazed at how ready he is as he practices self-discipline by not giving in.

“Never. Touches. You. Again,” he growls in my ear.

I can feel the teardrop of his urgency drip down my fingers as they clamber to finish the task and slide him home.

Fine.

I’ll tell him what he wants to hear, knowing full well I already have every intention of sticking to it anyway.

“No one else.”

The wind is pushed out of me as he’s held out as long as he can, and acts as quickly as he can to rectify the situation.

It’s only been a couple of weeks but the largeness of him takes a bit to accommodate, causing a small tear of salty elation to escape my closed eyes, as I savor every touch, every thrust, every spasm, thankful for the wonderful twist of events that brought us back together.

CHAPTER NINE

CLINK

It’s about damn time.

The last few weeks have been hell, have wreaked havoc on my heart and my cock. It’s not a feeling I enjoy, and thank God the worst is over and things can get back to normal around here.

“Sugar,” I kiss the curve of her silky shoulder. She’s deep in sleep, probably getting some of the best rest in days after the adrenaline rush last night.

I decide to let her sleep and carefully slip myself out from the entanglement of arms and legs we’ve gotten into.

She stirs for a brief second but slips right back into her dream. She breathes deep and settles back into her steady rhythm. There’s not much light but it’s just enough for me to see her lips, the golden, flushed skin of her cheeks. But most importantly, I see the one thing I haven’t seen on her in a long while… a smile.

“Mmm… baby?” she calls out weakly at the sound of my belt buckle jingling.

I close my eyes tight and curse under my breath for causing the disruption.

“Shh…” I whisper, while jumping up to zip the fly of my jeans. “Get some sleep, Sugar. I’ll come get you in a bit.”

Her lashes flutter as she silently follows my directions. I can’t help but find the irony that one of the only times this spitfire listens to me without question is when she’s half conscious.

I reach down and swipe my leather from where it’s fallen on the floor, leaving her naked body to sleep it off.

There’s very little if any motion in the main rooms of the clubhouse this time of morning. It’s unusual considering the late hours most of us keep but given the shit that went down, we’re locking up tight until we have answers to give people.

I can see the patches of several of my brothers sitting at the bar as their backs face me. The mood is somber, everyone is pretty reserved, sipping coffee.

“Any word?” I reach for the glass carafe and help myself to a steaming mug.

“Some,” Tiny’s voice is deep, tired. “Blue texted that they were pumping her stomach. Think it’s coke.”

I nod, taking it all in, but not surprised. “Where we at with it?”

“Blue’s staying back at the hospital, keeping close to Sable. Keep her from saying too much to the cops. Everyone else should be here soon, have a roundup.” He informs me of the developments I’ve missed.

“Where the fuck is she getting coke from?” T.J.’s question is a good one. One I’ve already silently asked myself more than once since seeing the bright red streams of blood from her nose as Blue carried her.

“Don’t know, brother,” I blow a cool stream of air on the piping hot liquid in my cup. “But we’ll sure as fuck find out.”

I know this shit hits close to home for the kid, given all the garbage he went through in his own family thanks to the nose candy and pills, but right now we all need to keep a cool head… not get carried away with ourselves.

There hasn’t been coke on the streets of Chisolm in more than a handful of years. It cost us dearly, too, and I’m one of the first people to admit that I don’t want to see the sacrifices we made in order to obtain that bargain go to waste.

Unlike T.J., who was on the sidelines back then, I was in the thick of the shit that went down between us and the Slayers, our rival M.C., over Chisolm’s streets. It cost us a lot to get all that shit outta town. Money, freedom, and even lives.

Three of our guys got busted and slapped with some serious jail time. One guy, Connor, was shot point blank in the eye. Died the next day.

He was one of my best friends.

The front door opens with streaks of early morning coming in alongside the lineup of the rest of our ranks.

“Boardroom cleanup up?” Vince is direct.

Tiny nods, “Prospects took care of it. We’re good to go.”

Without stopping, the Prez walks directly to it. Each of us following behind.

The room smells like bleach as we enter and I recoil at the harshness of it. The table’s been scrubbed clean, all traces of the ordeal having been erased from our sacred space. I take my usual seat to the left of Vince, and focus on a crack in the old table rather than the empty space where Sable’s lifeless body lay before being brought back by Sugar’s quick thinking and mad skills.

“How’s the chick?” one voice asks out from further down the table.

Vince looks irritated. “Sable should be fine. It’ll be dicey for the next couple of hours, but she’ll pull through. She’s a much tougher chick than some of you boys. Been around a lot longer, too.”

He shoots a wicked look down to the rookie who’d asked.

“The questions we really need to be asking are how and where did she get the coke, and how much more is floating around out there. Then we need to make sure the operation is shut down before more people get their hands on it.”

“Slayers. They gotta have something to do with this, Pop.” Jay weighs in on the discussion.

Vince nods. “Most likely. Let’s send a message to Dawson. Let’s not jump the gun and fire without making sure we got the right target first.”

He nods to me, “Clink. You take some muscle and head over to Riverdale. Reach out to him and set up a meet. See just how deep into this shit they are. Maybe it’s something a wee bit of negotiating can stamp out.”

Bullshit.

Vince knows as well as I do, that Slayers, especially Dawson… they don’t negotiate. Not without a shit ton of leverage, anyway. The Slayers in Chisolm have all but been stomped out recently, with Shade essentially sealing their fate. Their charter had become a liability to the organization as a whole.

Too much attention from the federal agencies that Shade was attracting was no good for business. He was counting on support from other charters, but was bitterly disappointed when they abandoned him in his hour of need, all but leaving him to us to finish off, before they swooped in and disbanded the Chisolm branch altogether.

With Shade and the Chisolm Slayers no longer any kind of threat to us… the closest thing to an adversary we’ve got is Dawson and his crew over in Riverdale.

Just because he chose not to step in and side with Shade against us, doesn’t by any means indicate that he’s suddenly changed his outlook on us in general.

Very few men in this world make me nervous.

Dawson’s one of ‘em, though.

I take a deep breath, sitting back and crossing my legs at the ankle ahead of me. “I’ll take Jay, Tiny, and T.J. with me. We’ll ride out in an hour.”

Neither Jay or his brother-in-law Tiny look surprised at their inclusion in my plan, but T.J. looks utterly dumbfounded. He’s one of the newer brothers and not usually first choice. I know he’s got a personal stake in all this shit, and the least I can do is let him be a part of reining it all in.

Vince grabs for the weathered gavel near him and gives it a whack against the timeworn table.

“That’s it for now. You boys get goin’ and get me some answers. The rest of us left behind will see what we can find out around here. Comb the streets. Get some intel.”

I nod to each of the men in my newly-formed expedition party, silent understanding to get ready and gear up. Jay outranks me, so as the V.P. he’s leading the charge. But, as the club enforcer, I’m responsible for the safety of us as well as the club in this situation.

Driving into Dawson’s territory with hard questions and harder consequences isn’t something to take lightly. I gotta get my head in the right space for shit like this.

I follow the exiting Kingsmen as we leave the meeting behind, but stop short as they begin to pile up ahead of me. I push my way to the front of the group to see what the fuck is causing the holdup.

Once I clear the crowd of stunned men, I set eyes upon what’s stopped them dead in their tracks.

“Uh… hi,” Charlie is standing in nothing more than an old Harley Davidson t-shirt. It barely reaches down far enough to cover her ass as her long curvy legs are on full display.

Her long naked legs.

I’m left speechless as all of my brothers are drooling over my woman as she stands surprised at her new audience, a bottle of water in hand, looking like recently fucked sex on a stick.

“I-I didn’t think anyone was here,” she’s mortified.

“Sugar! Get some fucking clothes on!” I move to block her from view of the sick sons of bitches behind me who are ready to pounce.

Her eyes are wide and full of shock. “I’m sorry… I didn’t hear anyone and-”

“What the fuck? You boys forget how to walk?” Vince pushes past the same men I just did and has almost the exact reaction I did when he sets his eyes on Sugar.

“What the fuck is this?” he yells at the two of us. His eyes harden on me then his daughter.

I tilt my chin down and grit my teeth, “Go get dressed, I’ll take the heat.”

She runs back down the hall, using her hands to reach behind her and tug down on the hem of the shirt to hide her ass cheeks. She’s only mildly successful at the cover-up, and the cat-calls and whistles are almost immediate.

I whip my head around to face the dumbass stupid enough to try it in front of me and he’s instantly quieted by not only me, but my Ol’ lady’s own pop and older brother.

“You think that’s a good idea, bro?” Jay asks Trojan while slipping his arm menacingly around the guilty party. “Let’s go have us a chat.”

The men disband now that the eye candy’s gone. Well… everyone except Vince. He stays, standing in place, eyes boring into me. I stand my ground and square my shoulders.

“You make sure you handle this shit with Dawson real quick. ‘Cause when you get back we’re having another man-to-man talk, Clink.”

It’s gotta happen sooner or later, so why not get all this nasty shit done in one day?

Sounds like a plan to me.

~*~

“What were you thinking?”

I accost her as she’s working her arms through her shirt.

She shakes her head. “No one’s ever up around here this time of morning! I was just getting a drink of water. How was I supposed to know the whole God-damned crew would be piling out at that exact moment. Do you think they all saw?”

I roll my eyes. “You bet your sweet ass they all saw! Half of  ‘em are roamin’ around hiding boners right now. The other half is getting an ass kicking from your brother and your pop.”

She bites her lip, unhappy with herself for causing so much trouble. “I didn’t mean--”

“Sugar, you gotta think before you do somethin’ like that. You’re an Ol’ lady… not some sweet butt. You can’t go walking around here looking like one, otherwise some stupid motherfucker might decide to treat you like one.”

She gasps, stepping back. “I do not look like a sweet butt!”

I run my eyes up and down over her rushed dressing job, remembering the pert, pointed nipples that were high-beaming through the short little shirt as she was caught.

“Yeah, you did. Not that I mind you looking like one in my bed, but that’s the only place I want you lookin’ like one. You got me?”

I can see the defiant streak that she’s famous for, flashing in her eyes. I push my finger over her lips to prevent the smart-ass comment that’s only gonna dig her in deeper right now from flyin’ out of her hot little mouth.

“We’ll talk about this later when I get back.”

She pushes my hand away. “Get back? From where?”

I smile, grabbing her close, happy to see she actually has concern for where I’m going. It’s a stark contrast to twenty-four hours ago.

“Business. Why don’t you go check on Sable while I’m gone. Check on Blue, too. Last I heard, the fucker’s a real wreck. Who’da thought the only woman able to bring him to his knees would have been Sable?”

Charlie hits me in the arm, apparently not fond of my classification of her patient.

“Will you be back late? We have things to talk through.”

I shrug my shoulders. “Don’t know yet. I promise I won’t be a minute longer than I have to, though. ‘Kay?”

She nods slowly. “Brendan? Will he be coming back with you?”

I can see the hope in her eyes and hate to be the one to extinguish it.

“Nah. He’s with my ma. They’ll be here the two weeks after next. I wanna give them some real time together before the school year starts.”

She sighs with disappointment.

“Think of it this way, Sugar.” I squeeze her ass with both hands. “Gives us a few of weeks of alone time before we’ll be practically begging for grownup time once he’s here.”

I’ve piqued her curiosity. Her eyebrow arches in the sexy little way it does when she’s thinking naughty things.

“And what are we going to be doing during all this alone time?” she baits me.

She knows damn well what we’ll be doing.

“I’ll text you and let you know what time I’ll be home. We’ll get a head start on our alone time tonight.”

I kiss her hard and smack her ass even harder, making her jump in my arms before laughing.

“Rest up, Sugar. You’re gonna need it.”

~*~

The ride to Riverdale is an easy one, but still takes about ninety minutes. Being this far away from our home turf comes with its own set of issues. There are boundaries, and we are far out of ours.

The Slayers and the Kingsmen have a long history and none of it’s good. We’ve had our own shit with the Chisolm chapter but we’ve always been bigger and stronger than them. Kinda kept them in check.

The Riverdale chapter of the Slayers is a different story, though. Dawson is one tough son of a bitch that would put up one helluva fight if he had to. He knows it, we know it.

It would be a bloodbath.

So… we’ve always had an understanding. He stays in Riverdale, we stay in Chisolm, and everyone stays alive.

But that could be changing.

One of the fundamental differences between Slayers and Kingsmen is the way we make our money. There are certain things we’ve made a collective decision to avoid. We don’t deal or run drugs, we don’t deal in sex other than for our own dicks.

The Slayers aren’t as… evolved as we are. Thanks in large part to Vince, we’ve got enough legitimate business ventures that we can make a decent living. Well… that and running guns. I never said we were saints.

“We ready brother?” I ask Jay.

As V.P. we wait for him to lead us into the lion’s den, better known as BOOTY CALL, the strip joint that the Slayers use as their main base.

Normally, any Kingsman walking through these doors is fair game, just as any Slayer walking into our garage. Today, though, we’ve called enough of a truce to be able to meet without bullets flying.

Doesn’t stop us from being prepared, though, just as they most definitely are.

The parking lot is full of cars and bikes alike, both testament to a booming business.

Jay is the first to dismount, with me following soon behind. The large tan-skinned man standing guard as bouncer by the front door nods to us as we approach. He’s wearing a cut, but no patches. He’s a prospect.

Young but not too young. Most importantly, though, he obviously knows his wheels.

“Nice pipes, man,” he nods to the custom work on my pop’s bike.

I lift my chin to him, in a mutual sign of respect.

He knows better than to pat us. We’re packing. He knows it, we know it. Just as sure as shit they’re all packing. There’s nothing keeping any of us from having at it right now other than our word as men.

The music is loud, pumping through us, through the dozens of men ogling at the stage, and through the strippers dancing topless in front of them. We’re stopped by an older man with a long grey beard and an eye patch.

“Boys,” he greets us. “We’re all set up in the back. Esè,” he nods passed us to the prospect that’s followed us inside. “Let Dawson know they’re here.”

The prospect, Esè, obeys and heads through the crowd, stealing glances at the naked women contorting on stage. I catch one of them, a double D redhead, winking at him.

Good for him. Let him get it while he can.

“Get you boys a drink?” the pirate-looking biker asks us.

I nod. “Cold brews. Domestic.”

“Hey Stitches!” He shouts over his shoulders. “Four bottles. Send them to the back.”

Another Slayer, standing close to the bar shouts back. “How many times I gotta tell you Uno… I ain’t no bar bitch!”

The one-eyed man, I’m guessing named Uno, retaliates. “Yeah? Well, until Baby gets back, you’re manning the bar. So I guess that does make you a bar bitch.”

Uno’s one good eye is practically tearing up from laughter as he leads us back to where the prospect disappeared. Jay takes the lead with Tiny and T.J. falling in line before I take up the rear.

We pass dangerously close to the stage just as a bright pink bedazzled G-string lands on T.J.’s head. He’s quick to grab it just as we start to bust his balls over it.

“Looks like you got yourself a little souvenir, kid,” I tease. “Maybe she’ll come lookin’ for it later?”

A pantiless dark-haired stripper with fantastic implants comes crawling over to us. She whips her head and bounces up and down on her knees, showing off her skills.

I push T.J. from behind, urging him to pick his tongue up off the floor and move it. He can go looking for pussy later. Right now, we’ve got business.

T.J. crumples the cheap panties in his hand and shoves them in his pocket.

By the time we pass the stage, the crowd thins, with Uno pressing a code into a garage-opener type keypad. The small display screen lights up and beeps, signaling the clearance needed to open the knobless door.

Huh. Pretty high-tech. I’m guessing the door is bullet-proof, too.

The door opens to a narrow hallway with several closed doors before it opens into a large room. A round, polished, stone table sits in the middle of the room with a sprinkling of Slayers situated around the edge.

We’ve had enough dealings with these fuckers for me to know the core group of them by sight. Besides Uno, our guide, and Esè, the prospect, there’s Dawson, Gryff, his V.P., and Chase, the club enforcer, basically their version of me.

“Gentlemen,” Dawson’s deep rusty voice acknowledges us. He uses his fingers to point to the available chairs not occupied by his own men. I wait for Jay to give the signal before I take a seat.

The loud bass-filled beats briefly fill the room as the heavy-duty security door is opened with the Slayer brother from the bar, Stitches, carrying a bucket filled with ice and long-necked bottles.

The sound quickly disappears as the door bolts shut behind him, and I realize that the room is completely sound-proof.

I’ll bet they wouldn’t even hear the bullets outside.

CHAPTER TEN

T.J.

I’ve been in some pretty tight spots before, but none compare to the shit we’re in now. We’re outnumbered, out-gunned, and they’ve got the home-court advantage. We may be playing nice for the moment, but that shit can change real fucking fast.

We’re playing a very delicate game, with Dawson and Jay vying for first move. While we wait, I assess our surroundings. Expensive furniture, electronics… it’s impressive. An entire wall of flat screen monitors shows every angle of the inside as well as the outside of the club.

This is some heavy-duty surveillance equipment, and this shit don’t come cheap. No doubt every piece of this setup was bought and paid for with drug-infested cash.

“What can I do for you, Jay?” Dawson’s made the first move.

I take a sip of my cold beer and do my best to sit tight, letting my V.P. handle this.

“We thought it was a good time to refresh memories on some old agreements.” Jay indirectly refers to the truce.

Dawson’s eyebrow raises, with the deep scar that cuts above his left eye moving in curiosity.

“Really? And what makes you think we need reminding?” His southern accent breaks through his words, almost masking the hidden sharpness.

Almost.

Jay plays the game just as well as Dawson with neither coming right out as hostile. Instead, they let it lace through the syllables for the other to catch. Kinda like biker, passive-aggressive bullshit.

“Chisolm’s been having a little pharmaceutical problem, lately. Shit’s finding its way to our streets.” I watch Dawson’s face very closely as Jay says his words.

It’s real easy to hide your shit when you know what’s comin’ at ya. If our rival prez knew what Jay was here to say, then his face would be blank, prepared for the subtle accusation.

Right now, though, I swear I see a darkness flicker in the cold-blooded killer’s eyes. The old scar above his eye moves as he twitches, taken off guard by Jay.

“You don’t say? Thought that we had an understanding, Jay? Kingsmen stay out of our way, take themselves out of the game when it comes to dealing, and in turn as we keep the dealing outside of Chisolm?” His jaw moves quickly and suddenly, cracking.

Jay nods, making sure to keep his tone low. “It ain’t comin’ from us, Dawson.”

At this, all of the Slayers sit up in attention.

“You implying we’re crossing lines and doing business in your backyard?” It’s a pretty direct question. A delicate one. If Jay says yes, then we’re all but calling the truce null and void and all bets are off. If he says no… then he risks making us look weak, like we can’t handle our own.

“I’m making a proposal. One that helps us both out. Kingsmen won’t tolerate dealing in our town, Dawson. You know that better than most.”

What the fuck is he doing?

Yeah, Dawson knows better than most just how far the Kingsmen are wiling to go to keep our streets clean. The last time we had turf war with them, before the truce, the Slayers lost just as much as we did.

We lost a man… they lost two.

One of them just so happened to be Dawson’s brother, his twin. That’s not necessarily the best thing to go throwing in his face right now. I can feel Uno’s one good eye set on me, watching, waiting to see the slightest hint of movement, ready to match it.

Dawson says nothing. He stares. Hard.

“So they way I look at it,” Jay moves right past the subtle reminder of just how deadly we are as adversaries, “you got some competition moving into the area. Someone dumb enough to deal this close to your territory, while foolish enough to do it in ours.”

Dawson bites his lip, contemplating the implications Jay’s inferring.

“What info you got so far?” our sometimes-enemy asks.

Jay shrugs his shoulders, “We’re workin’ on it. Should have some answers real soon.”

Dawson inhales once, then again. His eyes finally leave Jay’s to briefly confer silently with his nearby brothers.

“When you get an ID on the dealers… you let me know. This shit is an insult to both our clubs… I want in on taking them down. Send a message loud and clear.”

Jay nods, accepting the terms, holding out his hand for the shake that seals the deal.

“Well, whatdya know, boys?” Dawson sweeps the room, passing over all of us, Kingsmen and Slayers, alike. “Hell just froze over!”

We all laugh, relieved at the outcome of what could have been disastrous.

“Now, let us show you some Slayer hospitality… pussy and booze for everyone!”

~*~

T.J.

“Show me your bike….” The boozed-up broad slurs her speech.

Yeah… that’s not happening. Show a skank like this your bike and the next thing you know she wants you to take her for a ride. Whore’s like this are good for one type of ride and one type of ride only… and it ain’t on the back of my bike.

“Eh, maybe next time,” I blow off her offer. “How ‘bout another shot?”

She nods her head up and down like a goddamned plastic bobble-head doll.

“Yeah!” she nearly falls down, wobbling in her platform whore shoes. The sequined string bikini top is spread thin over her jiggling jugs, the abnormally round tits popping out in all the wrong paces.

“Good. Make yourself useful and go get me one.” I push her off my leg, where she’s been trying to straddle for the last few minutes.

A roll of her eyes, a cluck of her tongue… but she eventually does as she’s told. I’m left with a foul taste in my mouth from her raunchy perfume and the damp stain her crotchless panties left on my thigh.

“Dude…” Tiny slaps my back. “She fell, hard!”

I roll my eyes. “She’s got enough silicone in her. She bounces.”

He laughs.

“Kid, she’s a sure thing. You’re the only Kingsmen here without an Ol’ lady to worry about slicing off your balls if you touch the goods. Why the hell aren’t you knee deep in that shit right now? Hell, get two of ‘em. Live it up.”

I tip back and draw out the remaining beer from my bottle. “Nah, she ain’t doin’ it for me.”

Tiny takes one of his massive hands and mockingly places it on my forehead. “You feelin’ all right? Since when do you turn down pussy?”

“They’re all the same, bro. Do one, you’ve done ‘em all. Same fake tits, same fake lashes, same lower back tattoo... same STDs. I’ve had my fill.”

Tiny squints his brown eyes, acting as if I’ve just committed blasphemy.

“If you’re such a fan,” I suggest, “go help yourself.”

He laughs even harder than before. “If only it was that easy, kid. My Ol’ lady keeps it hot enough for me to stay zipped up tight when I’m on the road. But just to be sure, she sniffs my junk every time I get back from a ride.”

I chuckle, picturing Sunny’s blonde head bobbing around like a bloodhound over Tiny’s crotch.

“They about done, you think?” I nod over my shoulder to where Jay and Dawson are sitting in the VIP area, talking seriously.

Even though we may be playing nice, no one takes it for granted, with Clink sitting right next to Jay to watch his back.

“Should be,” he weighs in. “There really ain’t a precedent for this. You haven’t been around long enough to know firsthand, but our interactions with Slayers usually involve shooting and then gettin’ the hell outta dodge.”

I exhale deep, suddenly uncomfortable in my own skin. “I gotta get the hell outta here, bro.”

Pushing my drink aside, I stand, frustration at myself growing. This isn’t right... this isn’t me. I should be pounding a lot more than a fucking beer right now, yet I look at any one of these near-naked chicks bopping around and I can’t even stomach it.

Since when do I give a fuck about half the things that are bothering me right now? One girl had enough makeup caked on her face to give a clown a run for his fucking money. Another could barely put a damn sentence together without using the word “like” a dozen times, sounding like a brothel Barbie doll. And this last one… had the emptiest eyes I’d ever seen.

Since when do I give a fuck about any of those things? It’s easy enough to face them against the wall, on their knees or even keep the lights off to take care of the makeup and the soulless stare.

The valley-girl verbs? That’s the easiest… just keep my dick deep far enough down her throat to keep her from talking. Yet… none of these options even work the slightest to get me revved up.

“Go clear your head, kid,” Tiny suggests. “Should be done here soon, anyway. I’ll tell Jay you had an errand to run.”

I slap the man’s large back, “Thanks bro… I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me tonight.”

He laughs and tilts his head in mild curiosity at the stripper doing a naked backbend three feet from his face on the raised stage before us.

Weaving my way through the growing crowd, I make eye contact with Clink from the VIP section over the shiny brass railings. He looks about as interested in this place as I probably do right now. Holding two fingers to my forehead, I twitch them just so, signaling I’m taking off.

The heaviness to the air of this place is getting to me. The dozens of thick perfumes mixing and filling my lungs are enough to choke me, and I feel a gag as I think on it.

The burst of fresh air that welcomes me as I push on the old-school leather padding of the main door is like a fucking life preserver, keeping me from drowning in the sea of cheap-ass pussy and everything that comes with it.

I breathe deep, holding my head high and expanding my lungs as much as my chest will allow, clearing it all away. The tension, the frustration, all the feelings that are riling me up inside. I kick a rock away, hard, as I realize the cool air may have helped a bit but the knot in my stomach is still there.

“You done already, homes? Candy, the chick that tossed you her panties earlier… she’s been lookin’ for you. Think she wants to arrange a way to earn ‘em back.”

I lift my chin over to the Slayer prospect lighting up a joint. His dark, slicked-back hair and licorice-colored eyes are perfect for the road name I heard his brothers using for him. Ese.

I laugh.

Candy. Of course her name would be Candy. It’s ironic… because there was nothing sweet about that broad. Not like Dana… now there’s something that could really satisfies a fuckin’ sweet tooth.

I toss the prospect a wave and whip out my cell as I head to my bike, one in a very long line of custom Harleys.

YOU AROUND?

I text the very person who’s partially responsible for the mental cock block I got goin’ on right now.

The gravel under my heavy steel-tipped riding boots crunches with every step I take, interrupted by the quick response of the vibrating of my phone.

BUSY. GOIN’ DOWNTOWN TO LOOK AT SOME PROPERTIES.

Swinging my leg over the leather seat of my bike, I stare at the words in the glow of the screen in my hand.

Properties? Why the fuck would she be doin’ that?

WHERE YOU AT? I’LL MEET YOU.

The engine of my bike starts and idles, but I don’t move. Instead, I wait like a fuckin’ douche for her to answer. I bite my lip as the seconds pass, finding myself growing jealous wondering what she could be doing that’s more important that answering my question.

GOING TO LARK STREET. NEXT TO THE MOVIE THEATER.

I rev the engine, finding my dick growing hard for the first time tonight at just the thought of being able to see her.

GIVE ME AN HOUR OR SO.

I leave the high-pitched screeching of my tire behind as I take off with the passing streetlights whizzing by. It took about an hour and a half to get here on the main highways, but I know I can whittle it down by cutting through the back roads of the university campus.

The softness of her fresh, clean skin, the bounce of her thick wavy hair as she piles it high in some kind of knot-thing to keep it out of her eyes… the pink to her cheeks when she laughs as it falls in her face anyway.

The cute smudges of flour she manages to get in the weirdest places as she whizzes around in the kitchen. The little smacking noise her lips make as she rubs on the gloss that keeps them moist.

The way she covers her eyes and looks away whenever a movie gets to the chilling part, only to peek through her fingers to see it anyway. The way she bops her head and mouths the words to almost every song while she drives, and has a lead foot racing through town like that NASCAR chick who does the commercials, yet still manages to stop for a full three seconds at every single stop sign on God’s green earth.

The way her eyes squint just the tiniest bit when she’s thinking of an answer, carefully putting it together, instead of just blurting shit out like most people.

I’ve spent enough time around her the past couple of weeks, I’ve memorized her little quirks. It’s the first time I’ve actually studied a person, mesmerized at how she manages to be so innocent and naïve on one hand, yet completely bad-ass on the other.

I run through the mental list of all the things that make her perfect, and feel a sharp pain as I realize she’ll probably be leaving soon. Now that Clink’s back and he and Charlie can get back to normal, I hate to think that Dana won’t see any other reason to stay.

For a while… that was the plan. Don’t have her catch on to the way I really feel about her. Don’t give her any more cause to get mixed up in this type of life. But, now that its a real fucking possibility that she’ll skip town; I can’t bear the thought of feeling like the way I did tonight, for the rest of my fucking life.

This shit doesn’t do it for me anymore. Bitches and whores like Candy don’t do it for me anymore. I don’t want some nasty-tasting fake shit that only leaves you craving the real thing, like some cheap, sorry imitation.

I want the real thing.

And tonight… I’m gonna make sure I get it.

~*~

DANA

“How much did you say the security deposit was?”

My mind has turned into a human calculator, adding up all the figures and numbers, doing the math that will either make my dream come true or squash it completely.

“Two thousand for security. First and last month’s rent also due upon signing, that’s another fifteen hundred. You’re responsible for the realty fee of seven fifty and then whatever permits you’ll need. So, four thousand, two hundred fifty dollars will be due the day you sign.”

I nod, a little disheartened at the total amount. I’ve been saving up since before culinary school graduation, but hadn’t anticipated needing the money before another few months at least.

I’d been looking for space close to home for a while now. Either the rents were too high or there was too much competition in the area. Coming to Chisolm, though, I’d noticed that there was only one other bakery in town, and it was mediocre at best.

The rent is cheap, the location is great… but it doesn’t leave me much left over to buy supplies, new ovens, redecorate the place a little bit… not to mention get an apartment for myself.

I look around at the old kitchen of the tiny one-time luncheonette and imagine it being turned into a bakery pretty easily, with just the right amount of cash. The question is… do I have enough?

I smile at Mr. Jenson, the pleasant-enough realtor who’s shown me around the last half hour or so.

“I think it might just work,” I nod, running my finger over the stainless steel sink counter. “I just have to crunch the numbers before I make a final decision.”

His long, thin fingers go to work on the worn leather briefcase buckles. “In the meantime, if you’d like, we can get started on the credit check and the references? This way we’re ready to go if you decide to move forward.”

That’s probably a good idea, I decide.

I take the pen he politely offers me and go to work filling out the appropriate boxes. Social security number… date of birth… all the basic information.

For references, I put down Charlie and Mrs. Dobson, the dean of the culinary school. She had taken to me early on my first year, spotting I had a knack for baking… she even hired me to make her daughter’s wedding cake last year.

Next up… employment history. Beside the part-time bank teller position I’d had for a few years in school, I’d only ever worked for my mom’s catering business, so I list that, afraid the lack of work history will make me look too inexperienced for the landlord to risk leasing to me.

Just writing down my mom’s information makes me feel guilty for dodging her calls lately. I’m a piss-poor liar and always give myself away by going overboard trying to compensate. I’d sworn to Charlie that I wouldn’t sell her out to mom about living here in Chisolm let alone finding her real dad, and dating a biker.

Those are just too many landmines to remember to dodge, so it’s been easier just to keep it short and simple when it comes to phone calls with my mother. The ones I take, anyway. Most of them I’ll let go straight to voicemail, or just send her a quick text in reply, that I’m busy and will have to call her back.

I know I won’t be able to keep it up much longer, so I hope for all our sakes, Charlie decides to come clean soon.

I make sure to dot the i’s and cross the t’s before pushing the paper across the sleek surface of the industrial countertop.

“That’ll be ninety dollars to cover the credit check, Ms. Griffiths. Cash, check, or money order will be fine.”

Ugh, I sigh. Of course it will.

I take out my Betty Boop checkbook holder and write out the desired amount before marking it down in the ledger, noting that the last entry was almost a year ago.

Who the fuck writes checks these days, anyway?

I imagine at the rate I’m going, I’ll be writing a helluva lot more of these with all of the expenses heading my way.

“Hello? Dana? You in here?” I lift my head and multitask ripping the check carefully from the perforated edging and answering T.J.

“Back here, T.J.! In the kitchen!”

Just as I’m handing over the rectangular cartoon-themed banking document to Mr. Jenson’s eagerly awaiting fingertips, our visitor joins us.

“Uh… hey. Wha-what’s goin’ on?” He strides in, walking in that wide-stepped, over-enthusiastic way he does after having been riding for a while.

I laugh softly and move my chin to hide it from him.

“What’s funny, cupcake?” He reaches us and playfully grabs my chin.

I tighten my lips, smirking at my inside joke.

“Thanks so much, Mr. Jenson. I’ll have a final decision for you in a day or so. Then, I assume the contracts will be ready to sign?”

The semi-balding man takes my check and slips it into the depths of the briefcase before sealing it inside.

“Yes, ma’am. We’ll just need the certified cashier’s checks and then you’ll get the keys.”

I take a deep breath and it finally begins to hit me… I’m really doing this.

T.J. squints his eyes and moves them from the realtor to me, trying to decipher our dealings. I extend my hand and give a firm shake to seal the deal.

“Please call my office if you have any questions.” He nods to both me and then T.J. before lifting the handle to his case. “If you like, I can leave you here to take measurements. I’ll be back to lock up in about an hour.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jenson. That’ll be perfect.” I take out my trusty tape measure from my bag and imagine where I’ll start first. The windows? I could have custom lettering done. The display case? It looks like it needs a new facing. Ah! So many places to start!

Mr. Jenson waves behind him as he leaves the kitchen. It’s not long after that I hear the front door closing.

“All right, what’s going on?” T.J. crosses his arms in just the way he does when he’s trying to look serious.

I shrug my shoulders and move my eyes around the room. “You’re looking at what might be the newest business in Chisolm. The best damn bakery this town has ever seen!”

T.J. arches his eyebrow. “You serious?”

I bob my head up and down, wildly, barely able to contain my excitement.

“Yup. It came to me about a week ago. Why go home where I’ll be slaving away for my mom’s business until I’m able to find the right time to open one of my own, when I can do it here, now?”

T.J. looks over my head, to the back of the outdated service kitchen. “This is going to be a lot of work. You’re really going to do this? You’re staying here in Chisolm?”

I press my lips together, going over the long checklist of things that will be needed to get this place off the ground and suddenly feel daunted.

“You think it’s a bad idea, don’t you?” I cringe and wait for his answer.

He uncrosses his bulging arms and scratches his chin with one finger, thinking.

“I think… it’s fucking fantastic!”

My eyes widen, and I practically jump up and down.

“You do? Really? Oh my God. This is so crazy! This is so scary! What the hell am I doing?”

I’m laughing, nearly on the verge of tears, and shaking all at the same time.

T.J. reaches out to hold my shoulders, forcing my involuntary little spasms to stop.

“You’re doing what you want, grabbing life by the balls and taking a risk. It’s fucking brave. It’s fucking sexy as hell….”

I close my opened mouth quick. What did he just say?

“You-you think I’m sexy?” I’m astonished.

T.J. slits his eyes, shifting his head a little bit as if he’s judging the sincerity of my question.

“You know damn well I think you’re the sexiest chick I’ve ever seen.”

I feel my eyelids grow heavy. “You-you think taking a risk is a good thing?”

He laughs. “Yeah. Some risks are good. This is a good one.”

I don’t know if it’s the rush of adrenaline of opening up my own shop or from him telling me he thinks I’m sexy, but, in this moment, in this instance… I feel fearless.

“What about this risk?” I lean forward and step up on my tip-toes to touch my lips to his, softly gliding over them as I gauge the willingness of his own mouth.

“Is this a good risk?” I whisper, the movements of my lips pressing further into his, begging for the affection to be returned.

His lips are tight, rigid. His eyes are open, focused on me as I stare into them. The large hands on my shoulders remain, but are not as reassuring as they once were.

I can see him fighting against himself, the same way he gets anytime we take our flirting far enough to the point where it’s no longer play.

I find myself breathing hard and shallow, waiting for the rejection that he always seems to agonizingly deliver.

Just when I’m sure it’s about to come, when I mentally prepare myself once again for the heartache, his hands move down my arms, slipping behind my back at the narrowest part of me, crossing themselves tight to lock me in.

The hard breathing ceases all together as I push the pause button. What. Is. Happening?

He blinks, the movement drawing itself out as everything is stretching in slow motion.

“Doesn’t matter if it’s good or bad, cupcake. It’s a risk we just gotta take”

My stomach drops and my ears begin to ring, registering the words he’s just spoken. Holy shit… we’re actually gonna do it. No more games, no more skirting around it, coming dangerously close before backing off.

I blink once, opening to see him nearer. I blink again and then he’s right there, closer, millimeters from me. I blink a final time and I finally feel his kiss, all-consuming and strong as it washes over me.

I lift my arms to lock around his neck and pull closer. His throat grumbles as I stroke my fingers across the base of his collar, under the shaggy hairline. The deep rumble of noise is unlike anything I’ve heard before, and most definitely not like any of the good old blue-blood fraternity boys I’ve kissed. It does something to me, triggering some innate response deep in my feminine DNA, and my back arches, pressing me closer to him.

I feel every indent, every hard curve of him… and I like it.

His tongue shows no mercy, drawing my own out to match the scorching way it caresses mine. Every move, every touch is just how I imagined it to be and so much more.

In the swiftest of all moves, his hands reach from my lower back to cup under me and lift quick, placing me on the cold metal countertop behind me. The sudden change of temperature against my skin is sobering as the hem of my skirt rides up, and makes my heart dangerously skip a beat.

I breathe out from the shock of it, breaking the connection our lips share. T.J. isn’t in a position to stop so his lips simply move down the arch of my jaw. I feel my forehead furrow and my eyes close tight as I relish in the delicious torment of his moving mouth on my sensitive skin.

He presses his way in closer to the counter’s edge, my legs spread to each side to accommodate his pushing my skirt up further as I hug him with my thighs.

His thumbs begin to move in strong circles, rotating and massaging through my thin top, playing with the edge until they’ve moved past it to slip under and find my flesh.

The skin on skin contact is electrifying, and I call out in a panting whisper. My teeth somehow find the drop of his earlobe and close around the soft skin, tugging gently to inflict the same amount of sensory torture onto him.

He growls and instantly moves to reclaim my mouth before it punishes him further. The flesh of our lips mold to each other, the hardness of our tongues ebb and flow, intertwined around the other’s.

T.J.’s hands continue their exploration, over my stomach, my sides, my lace-covered breasts...

“I wanna take each one of these in my mouth and drive you wild enough to make you scream,” the pads of his thumbs circle around the hardened peaks under the floral-embroidered bra.

I bite my lip imagining what those dirty-talking lips would feel like latched on and fulfilling that promise.

“We should go back to your place,” I suggest, offering the only viable option to continue this further.

He shakes his head, a shadow of something wicked flashing over his eyes.

“No time, Cupcake.”

I gulp hard and all of my attention focuses on the hard bulge pressing against the thin lining of my panties.

My eyes widen as I register the size of the large mass beneath the denim, and I swallow hard.

“Please, tell me you have a condom with you.”

I bite my lip and pray he does. The only thing that could fuck this up right now would be if we had to stop.

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet with a devilish grin. I roll my eyes jokingly at him as he holds the foil-wrapped square up in victory before tearing the package open in fervor with his teeth.

My fingers go to work quickly on the button and metal zipper before reaching in to help alleviate the strain the confinement must have had on him when I gasp in shock.

“Holy crap…”

My fingers are barely able to touch around the mass as I try to coax the shaft towards me. I feel it pulsating through the paper-thin skin stretched over the throbbing vein that swirls down the length.

I feel myself growing lightheaded with just the idea of the girth let alone the length of this new part of him with which I’m becoming acquainted with. My fingers continue to explore, mesmerized, having always thought things like this were nothing more than romance novel myth.

A drop of cool liquid pools on my finger as he brings the latex covering down over the entirety of it. He grabs himself with one hand, lining up as the other pushes aside the sopping mess of cotton from blocking his entry before sliding to my lower back and pushing me closer to him.

My body jerks from the sudden inertia of the movement and I lock my arms around his neck to brace myself, closing my eyes to savor every little move we make.

He kisses one closed eye, with my lash flittering from the sweetness of it, before he kisses the other.

“Look at me,” he asks.

I lift my lids like a heavy curtain to find him staring at me, his eyes soft and sensual, drawing me in.

I feel the smallest amount of pressure and I hiss as he begins to fill the void that’s been waiting for him.

“Shh. Just relax and look at me.”

I take a deep breath and try my best to push away the fear, doing what he’s asked and concentrating on his eyes. They hypnotize me and lock me in a trance only penetrated by the softness of his words.

“I knew you were something special from the moment I saw you, baby. Something I knew that could ruin me in the best way possible if I let it. Something I thought would be too much for me, more than I deserved.”

I cry out as he’s filled as much as my body will allow for now, forcing me to drop forward, resting on his shoulders as he kisses my neck.

“Oh God, T.J. Too big.”

He pushes one more time, soliciting a whimper as I’ve reached the first threshold. His thumb swipes my cheek and he uses his soft soothing voice to calm me once more.

“Slow, and steady, baby, that’s all. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

His lips find mine once more and I revel in the depths of his kiss, concentrating on that as I feel the stretching, terrified it’ll be too much. His free hand slides up my thigh under the loosely-folded cotton of my skirt and traces the delicate flesh around the entrance he’s claimed until he finds the tightest part, the small point that houses the essence of the fragments of pleasure I feel through the exquisite pain.

His fingers knead and work the area like a talented musician becoming one with the instrument. His movements join together to work all the different parts of me to reach the ultimate goal.

His lips take mine deep, captivating me with the vigorous need they have for me. His hand massages my apex, steadily moving me closer and closer to what… I’m not sure. But every second that passes makes me more and more convinced I’m almost there. Most of all, though, his huge, solid, cock steadily works to conquer me.

My breathing hitches, my back tenses, and I feel a surge of need like I’ve never felt before in my life come barreling down on me like an avalanche as the floodgates open and I cry out in orgasmic pleasure. The abrupt explosion causes intense muscle fatigue at every level, finally giving T.J. the moment he’s waited for.

Surprisingly, I feel no pain, I feel no fear. I feel nothing but a surge of warmth as we’ve made it this far together. I wrap my ankles around him and smile as we’re as connected as two people can be, every inch of him cradled and caressed within me.

“See?” He kisses the tip of my nose. “Like I said, cupcake. Slow and steady.”

I laugh as the stress of it all has washed away, seeming silly now that we’re on the other side of it.

“Now, move with me, baby,” He holds my hips and urges them to roll.

“I can take it from here,” I offer confidently.

He arches an eyebrow in question, and I wink at him before popping my hip quickly to one side before grinding against him in a perfect pattern.

He breathes in deeply and I watch in smug satisfaction as his eyes roll back.

I laugh lightly, offering him the same instruction he provided me.

“Shh… keep your eyes on me, baby. Slow and steady.”

And then I make sure to show him just how naughty this good girl can be.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

T.J.

“You didn’t have to follow me home, but thanks.”

I leave my bike parked by the mailbox and follow her up the walkway. Dana’s self-conscious with me behind her, constantly looking over her shoulder and fidgeting with her hands, probably worried I’m staring at her ass.

She’s right. I am.

How could I not? The more I look at it, even in the loose skirt, I convince myself that it’s the finest ass I’ve ever laid eyes on. It’s fuckin’ perfect. She’s fuckin’ perfect.

The perfect eyes, the perfect ass, the perfect skin… the perfect pussy.

My dick aches in the best way possible just thinking about how tight she was, gripping and squeezing every inch of life out of me. I laugh, more loudly than I’d planned thinking how I’ll never need a cock ring with her.

“What? Am I walking funny?” She turns, blushing.

Huh? Oh, the laugh.

I pull her close to me as we’ve reached the door. “Damn right you’re walkin’ funny… probably gonna be sore later, too. You sure you don’t want me to stay with you?”

I kiss her nose as she shakes her head no, even though I see in her eyes she’s debating the merits of the suggestion.

“I’ve got a lot of work to do tomorrow. Open a business account, call a contractor, a printer, and set up a supply company. Honestly, you’d be a fantastic yet horrible distraction all at the same time.”

Her eyes subconsciously dip between us down to my crotch.

I laugh again as she licks her top lip, unaware of how insanely cute and sexy it is at the same time.

“Well, get your shit done early, ‘cause I have a feeling we’ll both be looking for a distraction before long. And don’t worry about finding a contractor. We’ve got plenty of brothers who work in that area.”

She eyes me, “Really? That… would be such a help! Do they know what they’re doing?”

“Go by Sunny’s salon and take a look. Did everything ourselves to help save her a bunch of cash when she opened.” I hope she’ll listen to me and actually go pay a visit, get to know Sunny a little better, make it easier for her around the other women in the club.

“But why would they all go out of their way to help me?” Her eyes open wide before she’s even finished her thought. “Oh, because Charlie’s my sister?”

I shake my head, “No. Because you’re with me.”

“T.J… I--”

I quiet any objection she’s trying to voice with my lips on hers, convincing her of the reason I want to help. Her hands wrap around my waist, hanging low, relaxed, playing with the leather that still has a newness to it.

“You-you have something in your pocket--”

Curiosity getting the better of her as she feels some type of bulge in my pocket, she pulls the string of the stripper panties, freeing them from the hiding place I’d forgotten about.

At first I can see that she doesn’t register what they are, and I try unsuccessfully to take them back.

“What- is this? What I-”

I drop my head back, eyes able to stare up at the stars for a second before rolling and closing.

FUCK.

“It’s not what you think, babe.”

She drops the g-string on the ground as if it were contagious.

“It looks like a cheap pair of panties. It looks like a trophy. Let me guess, you gonna need a pair of mine, too? Add them to the collection?”

She pulls away from me, anger building.

“Whoa! First off, I don’t need a pair of your panties, cupcake. I’ve got a second by second account of it on permanent replay in my head, still not truly believing that it actually fucking happened. Second, the most important thing you need to know about me is my word. I say something? It’s true. Never have to second guess shit about that, Okay?”

“Oh? Everything you say will be the truth?” She’s setting me up, I can feel it.

I nod.

“Then where did they come from? Why are they in your pocket? And did you fuck her?” I’m amazed she’s calm enough to speak rationally, not used to a woman not taking the opportunity to fly off the goddamned handle.

“Came from a sleazy stripper tossing me a souvenir of the show, hoping I’d give her more than just a tip later. They’re in my pocket because I shoved ‘em in there to get them off my face so I could fucking see. And no… I didn’t fuck her. I didn’t touch her or say a word to her. Not because I didn’t have the opportunity to… because I couldn’t imagine touching anyone else. I kept finding myself comparing everyone else to you, realizing they didn’t even hold a candle. I’m not sure what the fuck you’re doin’ to me, cupcake. Some kind of pussy magic or some shit like that. For days now, all I do is remember little things about you that I didn’t even realize I’d learned. But I did, I fucking memorized every little thing about you without even knowin’ it.”

I can’t read her, can’t gauge whether she believes me or not.

“Get them off my sister’s porch.” She kicks them with the toe of her shoe. “They fucking reek.”

Then, she smiles, turns her back and closes the door softly as if nothing happened at all.

What the hell? No chewing me out? No screaming her fucking head off? No slapping me across the face? I’m godsmacked right now.

I bend to take the offensive object to toss in the trash when I see the base of the door open.

“Oh, babe?” she asks, sweet and demurely as if she’d forgotten to tell me something. “Remember how good it felt when you slid inside me? And remember how you panted my name, saying how it was even better than you imagined? Oh, and then there was that little moment when you broke out in a sweat and swore you were about to die happy. Remember all those?”

I feel my dick harden just thinking of it.

“Yeah, well, if I ever find another pair of panties on you, on your bike, in your bed, in your house, or anywhere else… all you’re gonna have are those memories to think about as you cry yourself to sleep at night knowing you lost the best thing that ever happened to you. ‘Cause believe me… it will make you break down and sob every single time you think about the sweet, tight, little pussy you’ll never get to have again.”

She’s surprisingly upbeat.

“Have a nice day.”

I feel like I’ve been simultaneously kicked in the gut and had my cock swallowed by her sweet mouth as she leaves me with the well-articulated threat and a raging hard-on.

~*~

CHARLIE

“Hey, Charlie! You workin’ an extra shift?”

Maude has become especially nice to me since our little shared ordeal in the emergency room a few days ago when I lost my shit after seeing Clink.

I smile, thankful I have her as an ally around here, no matter the reason why.

“Nah, just checking on a friend before visiting hours begin.” I click my fingernails along the keyboard as I type in Sable’s information. Room 202. “See ya tomorrow, Mo.”

She nods to me over a clipboard, entering in her daily med. checks.

The first-shift nurses are making their way in to relieve the overnight ones, like Maude. Other than the handing off of charts, reviewing OR and testing schedules, and catching up on the turn of shift gossip, it’s pretty quiet here this time of morning.

I knew Sable wouldn’t be moved to a private room until well after midnight last night so I thought it better to just scoot in here before visiting hours begin to check on her.

Clink had told me that Blue was practically arrested for trespassing when he refused to leave her side after visiting hours had closed yesterday. I don’t know Blue well compared to most of the other brothers, but I think it’s sweet he’s got a thing for her. Just goes to show you that there’s someone out there for everyone… even sick, perverted, deviant little fuckers like Blue.

Room 202 is on the far side of the east wing, but it doesn’t take me long to reach it. With the nurses preoccupied with the shift change back at the main nursing station, these distant halls are completely empty.

I turn the corner but stop short and slink back as I see a dark-haired man leaving her room. He’s moving quickly, confidently, down the hall away from me before scanning a card in front of the barcode reader of the security door to exit.

I take quick little steps to follow the tan-skinned man as he makes his way down the corridor for the back stairwell. The employee stairwell, that required an employee badge to get to.

I’m not an old-timer around here like Maude, but I certainly have never seen this guy in any professional capacity and judging by the looks of him, he seems more of a back-alley kind of creep than a medical professional.

However… he did seem to know Harris that morning at the Waffle house… and they both specifically went out of their way to hide that fact. Could he be hospital security, maybe?

Thank God I’ve worn my sneakers today, with the hopes of hitting the gym for the first time since surgery. The soft-rubberized soles help me covertly tail the murky-looking man as well as get enough traction to pick up some speed.

The loud clicking of the heavy, fireproof metal door can be heard before the swooshing of air being moved as it closes with a heavy thud. Thanks to the block-lettered painted B on the wall of the landing, I know we’re in the basement, the bottom parking level for the ambulances and higher-level administrators.

I sneak close, hiding, tempted to hit the bar handle to follow him further but know that will sure as shit get me caught. Instead, I slowly raise myself to peek through the square safety glass, through the crisscross of metal meshing embedded within.

The basement is dark with only the scattered artificial lights casting from yellow light bulbs. I see the man standing next to a dark sedan with heavily tinted windows talking animatedly with a taller, more slender man showing his back to me.

The second man has lighter hair, is clean-cut, and wears a long-sleeved baby-blue business shirt that looks fresh and recently ironed and light khakis. He couldn’t be more of a contradiction to the dark t-shirt wearing man in expensive looking jeans and a leather jacket.

The two of them continue to talk and I struggle to get a better view without blowing my cover. I contort myself into a perfect sitting chair position that my yoga instructor would be damn proud of but it isn’t enough.

Fuck!

And fuck this soundproof door! I can’t hear anything!

I garner the courage to stand a bit more, exposing nearly the top half of my head through the window, risking being seen but the payoff is immediate.

I see the dark-haired stranger point his finger accusingly at the clean-cut guy before handing over a thin lanyard with a small white card attached to it. An employee badge, just like the one I have. Just like the one every legitimate employee of this hospital has.

The taller white man takes it quickly and swoops his neck into it, before turning to leave his companion. The nearby wall-mounted low wattage light falls on him so I’m finally able to see his face, to see the identity of the employee who allowed the dangerous looking man to gain access to not only Sable, but a damn good escape as well.

My heart stops and my breathing pauses as I see the familiar jawline and clean-shaven profile.

It’s Harris.

I don’t know why I’m shocked as much as I am, but I quickly lose my balance and perfect yoga pose, stumbling to regain it only to fall against the cold, solid, metal door. I’m able to avoid the handle, to keep the door from opening with my impact, but the sound is unmistakable.

The noise crashes through the perfect echo-ready walls and I gasp deep before taking off in flight up the stairs. I don’t think, I don’t reason… I don’t do anything except run as fast as I can, literally for my life, as I hear the tell-tale signs of a chase behind me.

Shoes screeching, heavy panting, thudding echoes… and the clicking of a gun.

Holy fucking shit! This just hit a whole new level.

A powerful burst of adrenaline shoots through my veins, pushing me further, faster, up the stairs until I reach the third floor, slamming my body weight against the long rectangular handle bar of the door, giving my pursuers not only a strong clue as to my method of escape, but an exact location of where to go next.

The recently polished floors don’t help with traction, but I use every single muscle in my legs to propel me, not daring to look behind, instead listening for the inescapable sound of the stairwell door once more behind me as they barrel through it.

I hear the dreaded sound I’ve been waiting for just as I grab hold of a corner and round it, throwing myself into a small maintenance closet. I don’t dare turn the light on; instead, I feel my way through the dark, carefully, knowing that one more clumsy mistake like what I’ve made in the basement could cost me big time.

The round, generic metal doorknob has a lock, so I carefully depress it, until I hear the faint clicking. Only then can I breathe, only then can I finally release the air that’s been building in my lungs, begging for escape.

There’s a thin strip of light at the bottom of the door, and I watch it like a hawk. I don’t have to watch longer than a few seconds, before several shadowed interruptions break the white line of light, heading away from my dark little hiding place.

Please, God, please let me get through this.

Just when I think my prayers have been answered, the dark blotches return. Two of them. And then the doorknob jiggles.

Oh crap!

“What’s in here?” One deep voice, a voice I’ve never heard before, asks out.

A second pair of shadows appears under the door.

“In there? Just a broom closet, I think,” Harris’s unmistakable smooth voice answers his accomplice.

The door vibrates, being pulled. “Why’s it locked?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

“I-I don’t know. Probably so patients don’t go wandering around near cleaning chemicals? You think the guy went in there?”

Damn Harris!

“You got a key?”

I hear Harris’s snooty little laugh. “I didn’t spend five years in med school to be mopping floors. Of course I don’t have a fucking key!”

“Well go get one! Put all those years of higher education to work, doc, and go find the damn key!” The gritty voice reprimands Harris.

Two of the little shadows disappear and I can tell Harris has done as the other man has suggested. It’s only a matter of time before he finds a janitor to unlock the door, and then I’m done for. There’s no way out other than to wait like a sitting duck.

Or is there?

I reach nervously for the cell phone in my pocket, making sure to turn off the sound before sending out a mass text to everyone I can think of, knowing whoever gets it first will hopefully save my life. Clink, Dana, Vince, Lil’s, T.J., Jean, Sunny… they all get the same message.

CALL 911 WITH A FIRE, A BOMB THREAT, ANYTHING FOR THE HOSPITAL ASAP.

I slip the phone back into my pocket, knowing I’ll have an endless barrage of questions after they’ve done as I ask. I don’t have time for that right now. I have to plan for the worst and be ready to protect myself as best I can.

I reach forward blindly and take hold of a long, thin, wooden handle. It must be a broom… maybe a mop. I know it’s nothing compared to what the guy on the other side of this door has, but it’s all I’ve got right now.

It’ll have to do.

And now… I wait.

CHAPTER TWELVE

DANA

I punch the little C button once more on the calculator, erasing the number that’s broken my heart.

It’s not enough. Even cutting corners and taking out some of the bigger expenses that I really shouldn’t isn’t enough to make it work. I still come up a few thousand dollars short.

Only a few thousand dollars separates me from my dream. A few measly thousand dollars between me and the independence I crave. I throw the pencil down on the tabletop as it’s failed me. No matter how many times I erased and rewrote the lists, making them shorter each time, it was never enough.

I don’t have very many options.

A bank will never give me a loan without collateral. I don’t own anything of value to use to secure the financing, so it’s a dead end. I could never in a million years ask mom for a loan, although I know dad’s life insurance has provided for her pretty well.

Her first reason for giving me a big fat “no” would be that I should just stay and work with her at her own catering business, with promises that one day she’ll turn it over to me when she’s ready to retire. Knowing Regina Griffiths, she’ll never retire.

She’ll work herself into every decision, every transaction, micromanage every little detail. It kind of defeats the entire reason why I want to be able to do this on my own. I want to accomplish something on my own terms, to break out of the shadow of being “little Dana” for the rest of my life.

Her second reason for denying me the money if I ever asked, after she’s claimed she’s having a heart attack from the shock of me moving to Chisolm, let alone opening a business there, would be her connecting the dots to figure out why I’ve picked that particular town, and then all hell’s going to break loose between Charlie, mom, and me.

No, thank you.

My only other option is to get a little job around here and continue to save up my money, hoping that by the time it’s enough, the space is still available. It would probably take me about four or five months. Maybe six if I can’t find a job right away.

I let my head fall and leave it resting on my forearms while I wallow. The knock at the door is the only thing to pause my little pity-party.

“I’m coming.”

I open the front door in mere seconds.

“Hey, Dana,” Lil’s whispers. My eyes drop down to the baby she’s holding in her arms and I catch on really quick that the volume level is most definitely on purpose.

I motion for her to come in, tiptoeing around her and the baby to close the door as quietly as I can. When I return to Lil’s, I angle my chin so I can peek under the pile of light brown fuzz that covers baby Charlize’s bow-adorned head to see her plump little lips and chubby cheeks.

I make the universal sound for a cute baby breaking someone’s heart and Lil’s rolls her eyes.

“Don’t let her fool you, Dana. This little girl can raise some serious hell when she’s cranky.”

I’ll bet. Charlie’s only told me stories of both Lil’s and Jay. I’m guessing their daughter has inherited the best from both parents.

“Charlie’s not home,” I apologize, knowing Lil’s has made the trip in vain. “She went to the hospital to check on Sable. Have you heard anything?”

Lil’s adjusts the heavy baby in her arms and shakes her head. “No. Jay says she’s being monitored carefully, waiting to see what, if any, damage she’s left with.”

I breathe slowly. I’ve never met the woman we’re talking about, but I hope by the word “damage” they don’t mean anything too serious.

“Besides,” Lil’s adds, “I didn’t come here to see Charlie. I came to see you, if that’s Okay?”

I’m taken back. Sure it’s Okay. It’s more than Okay.

“Can I get you anything?” I offer.

She holds up her palm. “No, no. I’m fine. Really. Maybe I’ll just put her down for a bit while we talk, though.”

Lil’s walks over to the sofa and sets baby Charlize down on the soft cushions, propped in place by one of the decorative pillows before taking off her purse and sitting down next to her child.

“So, what brings you here then, Lil’s?” I take a seat in the nearby armchair, facing my guest.

I’ve had only a little interaction with Lil’s so far. First, in the hospital when I brought Charlie against her will to see her sister-in-law and friend, recovering after the baby was born and Charlie’s secret had come out.

Then, when Lil’s and the rest of her family stopped by to try to see Charlie, only to have me regretfully turn them away at my stubborn sister’s request. And finally, when I had had enough of Charlie’s pigheadedness and devised a surprise ambush plan to get them all in the same room so they could start to straighten out all of their shit.

All three of those times I had really gotten along pretty well with Lil’s. I may not know her very well yet, but I feel like I do just from all of the stories I’ve heard either from Charlie, and even from T.J.

This world that they live in is very different from the one I come from, but, judging from what I’ve learned so far, Lil’s is at the very heart of it.

“I came to talk to you about your bakery.”

I nearly choke. “My what? How do you know about that?”

I’m not angry. Just confused. No one knows except the realtor, the landlord, T.J-- ahhh. I figure out my answer soon enough.

“I heard T.J. talking to Jay about it,” she sees the hesitation in my eyes, I’m sure. “You see, we all look out for each other, Dana. You’re Charlie’s sister. Not only is she Vince’s daughter, but she’s Jay’s sister, my sister-in-law, Jean’s step-daughter, and Clink’s Ol’ lady. She’s one of us. And… you’re her baby sister. So, you’re one of us, too.”

I tilt my head back in surprise.

“T.J. did the right thing by telling Jay. They’re working out the arrangements to overhaul the place and get it ready for business. I don’t know you very well, but you don’t seem like the type to just let them do that for you. Not yet, anyway.”

She’s right about that. Charlie may be in with all these people, but I’m not. The last thing I would want to do is get myself in deep with a group that I’d owe a debt to.

“So, I’ve got an offer for you.”

I’m intrigued.

The baby coos, and Lil’s immediately reaches in her bag of tricks for a little animal-shaped binky, pressing it to the baby girl’s lips. It does its job and Charlize is quiet once more.

“You don’t know much about me,” she starts, “but I went to college. I actually just graduated a couple of months ago. I took tons of business courses, and got pretty good grades in all of them. I, don’t get me wrong, I love being a mom. I love taking care of my man and my baby girl… but I’m not exactly the type to sit on a couch and watch soaps while eating bon-bons all day. I need something to do. Something that gives me a little bit of independence and security away from the club.”

My eyebrows raise high at that last bit. Away from the club?

“Is everything Okay?” I’m quick to ask.

Lil’s sees that I may have misinterpreted her words so she’s fast in correcting herself.

“Everything’s great. Right now. But, I know this life Dana. Things can change real quick. My dad’s been behind bars a good deal of my childhood, leaving my mom with no support while raising me and Tiny. The club helped out, did what he couldn’t. I love Jay. I know he’s a good provider. I know he’ll never do anything to intentionally fuck things up, but I also know that sometimes shit just happens.”

I swallow hard listening to her.

“I need to make sure I’m in a position to take care of her,” Lil’s eyes dart down to her baby, “if anything were to happen where Jay couldn’t.”

I breathe deep. Wow. It’s kind of sobering listening to someone admit those kinds of deeply personal things to me.

I nod. “And you think working, having something of your own can do that?”

She smiles. Bingo.

“I have money, Dana. Money of my own, clean money that has nothing to do with the club. If anything were to ever go down, the Bakery could never be touched. There would be nothing connecting the two. I can handle some of the business side, leave you to the baking and the catering. It’ll give me somewhere to go, something to do when I’m about ready to lose my mind at home. It’ll give you the help so you don’t have to handle everything yourself. It’s a win-win.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, contemplating the merits of her offer. It’s true that I could use the help running everything. I may be a whiz at whipping up a crème brulee, but put me in front of a spreadsheet and I’m an idiot. There’s also the matter of supervision. While I’m out at catering assignments, who’s left to watch over the shop?

Mom always had me to watch over the storefront while she was out in the field. I’d have to hire a manager and that would really put a dent into my bottom line every month.

I save the most important factor for last, though. The cash. I don’t have it. She does. That alone is enough to make the decision for me.

“Are you sure about this, Lil’s? I mean, are you ready to do this? Do you need to talk it over with Jay first?”

She laughs. “Oh, sweetheart. Just wait till you get to know me a little better. I don’t need to talk to Jay. I have my ways. It won’t take long before he suggests the idea to me, thinking he came up with it all on his own.”

Wow. I see the stories must be true.

“Okay. So… let’s say I’m on board with this. What kind of time are we talking about to get rolling?” I know the realtor is just waiting to get his grubby little hands on my deposit check.

Lil’s looks satisfied. “Bank closes at three. Is that fast enough?”

I exhale. Yup, that’s fast enough alright.

I hold out my hand to shake on it, formalizing our agreement when the alerts on both my cell and Lil’s ring out simultaneously. It interrupts not only the end of our first business meeting, but also the baby’s nap as she begins to stir and whine.

It’s from Charlie.

She’s in trouble!

~*~

CLINK

“What the hell do you mean she’s not answering?” Vince bellows out to the room of people anxiously trying their cells.

I’ve called her four times. FOUR. FUCKING. TIMES.

I’ve texted her a half dozen more with the same outcome. No response. I’m not sure what the fuck is going on, but I made sure we did as she asked. I had Leo call in an anonymous bomb threat from one of the throwaway lines. It’s already made the news that they’re evacuating the hospital.

What the fuck has she gotten herself into?

Vince and Jay are busy calling all the brothers in, while still trying to get ahold of my woman. I’m not waiting anymore.

Jay sees me grab my keys and head out, weaving between all the people heading in.

“Bro! Hold up!” he calls to me, but I don’t stop.

He’s caught Vince’s attention, and he slaps his pop’s chest. “We’ll go check it out. You man everything here.”

I’m on my bike, kicking the start, bringing it to life before he even clears the building. I don’t ride out before him. Ever. But these are special circumstances. I’m not about to let some stupid shit like club hierarchy keep me from getting to that hospital a second before I should.

I peel out of the lot, nearly causing an accident as a beat-up grey Toyota slams to a stop to avoid me, screeching its breaks and fish-tailing across the lanes.

I’m racing to the hospital at full speed when the sound of a matching Harley pulls up along side, flanking me. Jay’s caught up and keeps pace, turn for turn until we’ve gotten to the blockade set up by the cops.

The HAZMAT team, the bomb squad and several ambulances are scattered, parked wherever they can between police cruisers. I hear the chopper blades from the news helicopter above. It’s chaos, utter chaos.

Sirens, lights, everywhere I turn there’s something.

“Sir, you need to evacuate the area. We have a suspicious device in the building.” A uniformed officer approaches.

I get off my bike. He notices the height difference immediately and I see his trigger finger twitch, inching closer to his piece in his holster.

“Stop right there, I said you need to evacuate. Don’t come any closer!”

Come on!

“Dude, my Ol’ lady’s in there. She works here.”

He sees my patches, sees my tats. He doesn’t believe a word I’ve said.

“The hospital’s been evacuated. All patients and staff have either been transported or are waiting in the far parking lot to be cleared to re-enter the building. You can go look through the crowd for her, but you’ve got to get the hell away from here. You’ve got two minutes before I book you for trespass.”

Stupid little fucker.

He doesn’t leave me much choice, though. I suck on my lip in anger, not risking firing off my mouth to him. He’s clearly itching to get his rocks off by cuffing a Kingsmen. Give him something to brag about in that sorry little break room of theirs.

I spit on the ground, backing up. “Yeah, I’m leaving, man. Thanks for all the help.”

I rev my engine extra load before passing dangerously close to where he stands, causing him to jump back. The far parking lot, or long-term parking is a few minutes away, and I can see the prick of a cop was right. There are hospital-gown clad patients in wheelchairs, on gurneys, even roaming around if they’re healthy and able enough. Nurses and doctors are darting around tending to them.

I know Charlie’s not scheduled to actually be working this morning so I scan through the scrubs and paper gowns to find her. No sign. I do, however find Blue standing guard next to Sable as she’s propped up in a wheelchair.

Jay’s found him, too, pointing. I nod and we approach.

“What the fuck, man? I get here just in time to be let in for visiting and cops storm the place!” He explains.

Sable looks like she’s at death’s door right now, not a stitch of her usual thick makeup on. Her teased out hair is flat and stringy, but the bitch is breathing. That’s all that really matters right now.

The experience must really be affecting her, though, cause she looks scared. Terrified.

“How you doin’, darling?” I ask her.

She blinks. “Been better. Been worse.”

I try to crack a smile.

“Listen, Clink… I want to thank you, thank Charlie for what you two did. She here?”

I turn and lock eyes with Jay, who looks equally as worried.

“She came here to see you. You tellin’ me she never showed?”

Sable shakes her head. “Haven’t seen her.” She closes her eyes, “shit” is mumbled under her breath.

“What? You know something?” Blue asks her.

She looks to Blue, and shakes her head. “Nah. I just hope she didn’t get caught up in all this shit.”

Her eyes dart down the hill to the hospital that’s now become a crime scene.

Shit! So now I know Charlie never even made it to see Sable this morning. I pull out my phone and check my messages. Nothing. I add one more to the growing collection of unanswered texts to my girl.

I SWEAR TO GOD YOU BETTER ANSWER ME SOON SUGAR.

Jay searched my eyes in question. I shake my head, “Nothing.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose wondering what the hell to do next. I have no idea where she is, I have no idea what’s wrong. I just know she’s in trouble.

The pinging alert from my phone causes all four of us to jump.

I’M FINE. COULDN’T TEXT. I’M IN THE HOSPITAL, BROOM CLOSET THIRD FLOOR BY THE CHAPEL.

“Got her!” I shout. A couple of bystanders look over in surprise. I lower my voice.

“She’s in the building.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Sorry, sir. No visitors are allowed in the building at this time. Patients and staff only. Visiting hours will resume as normal tonight,” the hospital security guard speaks to Jay, Blue, and myself as we wheel Sable through the crowd back toward the recently threat-cleared building.

It’s been nearly an hour of waiting, nearly an hour of coming dangerously close to lashing out and now I’m this close and I’m going to be turned away. No fucking way.

“Step aside, sir. We’ll have one of the orderlies take it from here. You!” he calls over to the man about ten feet away.

I turn to follow the direction of his call and I thank Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I know the guy walking toward me. He knows me, too. Enrique I think is his name.

“Take this patient back to her room. Only the patient. And-” his attention gets diverted away by a gurney dangerously close to tipping over as it’s being pushed aside by eager patients scrambling to pass through the two main doors.

The guard steps aside to redirect traffic but keeps a clear side eye on us.

“I need to get in that building,” I whisper to the orderly that I’ve paid off a few weeks back after Sugar’s surgery. He’s been passing me information the entire time I was out of town. He’s also been paid handsomely for it.

His eyes dart around, unsure of what to do. “It’ll cost you a grand.”

Dumb fucker. This is no time to negotiate a pay hike.

“Fine. Get me in there.” I grit my teeth.

“Go around to the left of the building. There’s a door that says FLORAL on it. It’s the delivery entrance for the gift shop. I’ll unlock it from the inside. Give me five minutes.”

He takes the handles of the wheelchair and pushes forward, with Sable holding tight to Blue’s hand until they can no longer reach. We watch them enter the building and I finally notice the metal detectors and police patting down everyone.

Thank God we found another way to get in… all three of us are carrying and would be locked up on weapons possession. As soon as Sable’s wheelchair has passed far enough into the building we back up, slowly and as inconspicuously as possible, around to the side of the brick building just as we were told.

True to his word, a single painted entry door with stenciled letters becomes visible. I take advantage of the moment and text Sugar that I’m on my way. This time her response is almost immediate.

I HAD TO MOVE. THEY’LL COME BACK NOW. I’M IN SABLE’S ROOM. COME QUICK.

What the fuck is she talking about, they’ll come back?

I hear a clicking from the inside of the door and we take it as a sign that the orderly’s followed through on his end of the bargain. We file in, one at a time into the abandoned gift shop.

We’re alone, the orderly having split so as not to get caught. I don’t blame him. We’re on our own now. Static breaks through the silence as a walkie-talkie can be heard.

“East wing of the first floor is clear,” some cop talks into his radio.

I back up and hide flush against the wall that conceals me, against the display of custom hospital gowns and robes. An expensive alternative to the cheap little paper ones they provide you.

I get an idea.

I take three of the larger size and hastily rip off the tags, tossing one to each of my sidekicks.

Jay slips into his and ties it closed, kicking off his boots and rolling up his jeans so nothing’s peeking out.

“Pink’s not really my color,” Blue holds up the disguise.

I stare him down, Jay having to intervene and hold me back.

“Put the fucking gown on now before I make it red from the blood spewing from your nose when I break it,” I ball up my fist.

“All right, all right. Damn. I’m just sayin’…” Jay got a white one. Blue replies while putting on the gown.

He kicks out of his shoes, mumbling his complaints. I grab a white gown and toss it at him hard enough to shut him up.

“Fuckin’ pansy ass.”

Once we’re all gowned up in new attire, we join the passing crowd to reach Sable’s room as unsuspecting hospital patients.

CHARLIE

I keep the bathroom door closed until I’m sure the attendant’s have settled Sable in and left.

“Hey! Clink’s looking for you!” Sable greets me as I make my escape from the restroom.

I press my finger up to my lips for her to quiet down.

“I know. He’s on his way up. Sable, I need to talk to you before they get here. What was that man doing in your room this morning? The dark one with the leather jacket?”

Her eyes open wide. “Shit! You saw that? Oh fuck, Charlie! You can’t tell anyone. You can’t say anything.”

“Who was he?” I ask again, knowing that our time is growing short.

She looks petrified, shaking. “I can’t-- he said he’ll kill me. He can do it, too.”

“Who is he,” I repeat. “You know the club can protect you, Sable.”

She shakes her head. “Not against these guys.”

I think quick. “I promise I won’t tell. But, I need to know. Who is he? Either you tell me or you tell the boys when I let them know what I saw.”

She breathes deep, weighing her options. “He’s a part of some cartel. They’re moving in, slowly. Got some kind of connection here in Chisolm. It’s been real hard for me to find any shit around here without having to drive to Riverdale. He’s been selling me what I need.”

I step back.

Cartel? As in Mexican drug cartel?

My heart jumps into my throat.

“Somehow he found out that I OD’d and about my connection to Blue, to the club. He came here to let me know if I told them where I got the drugs he’d finish off the job. I’m supposed to say I got them from some Slayer instead. Charlie… these guys are the real deal.”

I close my eyes.

“Hey, you.” I nearly jump sky high as Harris enters the room, clipboard in hand. “I’ve been looking for you.”

I feel my heart still. “You- you have?” I try to sound casual, but I feel a cold sweat starting.

He nods. “Yeah. You were supposed to call me. Set up that dinner date.”

I swallow hard, laughing nervously. “I’m so sorry! I forgot! I got so tied up last night. Sable got into some trouble down at my dad’s bar. Thank God I was there to help out. Completely lost track of everything else.”

He nods. “I heard. That was some crazy stuff. I read the report. It was amazing what you did… really quick thinking.”

I smile as best I can. “Thanks. You know… working around such great doctors. I’ve learned a lot.”

He closes the flip top to the metal clipboard. “I’ll bet you have… Listen, about that dinner?”

“Uh, yeah. Let’s- let’s do it. How ‘bout tonight? Seven?” I feel myself stuttering.

I can see Sable’s confused expression, and I pray she’ll have the sense to just shut the hell up and not say anything right now that could blow this.

“Seven’s perfect. I’ll pick you up, just got my car back.” He steps closer and slips his arms around my waist. “You’re shivering….”

Oh God! I control my muscles and do my best to hide my fear. “You have that effect on me, I guess.”

He growls deep, pulling me in closer. “Let’s see what other effects I can have on you.” He leans in and takes my lips in his, quickly. I don’t push him off. I’m too scared. He releases me soon enough though. “Tonight.”

I let out a nervous sound that I’m able to mask as a giggle as Harris leaves the room to finish his rounds. Once he’s gone I feel my knees buckle and I stumble into the vinyl-covered chair nearby.

“Um… I may not be an Ol’ lady, but I know damn well enough it’s not a good idea to be doin’ this shit behind Clink’s back, Charlie.”

I feel the onset of some sort of panic attack.

Drugs. Cartel. Harris being involved. Cartel. The only person who knows enough about this other than the leather-jacketed man who threatened Sable is Harris.

I may have only flirted with him to make Clink jealous and thanks to that, I now have some of the pieces to put this all together.

“You don’t want me telling your secrets? Then don’t go telling mine,” I clearly threaten Sable into staying quiet. She may think I’m a trashy slut right now, fucking around on my Ol’ man, but this crazy turn of events just may come in handy.

The hospital room door opens again, and it takes my eyes a few seconds to register that the men entering are not truly patients, but Kingsmen.

“Oh, thank God!” I run into Clink’s arms, holding tight, clambering to him.

“Shh… It’s Okay, Sugar. Everything’s Okay now.” He tried to calm me. It’s not Okay. He has no idea how fucking not Okay it is.

Blue moves past us to reach Sable. I pull out of Clink’s arms and I can feel her eyes on me, wondering if I’ll keep my work or sell her out.

“Broom closet,” I stutter. “The one I told you about. He’ll go back, trying to find me as soon as he can get back in the building.”

Clink’s shaking his head. “Who? Who’s going to go back looking for you?”

I try to sort out as much of the details as I can without having to relinquish any of Sable’s connection to it.

“Drug cartel member. I… I overheard him. I ran. He chased me to the closet and I locked myself inside. Go! Go quick!”

Jay steps in between Clink and me. “Did you say drug cartel?”

~*~

CLINK

“You don’t really think he’ll be stupid enough to come back?” Jay whispers from behind me.

We both stand, at the ready, weapons drawn. I’ve got my gun in the right hand, knife in the left, aimed at the door. Yeah, I silently answer Jay’s own question in my head.

I do think he’s stupid enough to come back. He may not expect to find anyone, let alone two armed bikers ready to tear him apart for goin’ after Charlie, but I’m sure he’s at least expecting to find some clue as to who spotted him.

Guys like this don’t leave any trails. No witnesses, no evidence. In his mind, whoever saw him, overheard him, is as big a liability to him as she or he is to the Cartel.

If he was sent here to scope things out to possibly set up shop and have the cartel move in, then he’s going to be held directly responsible for anything that fucks it up.

No way his bosses are gonna let him live if he’s the reason this deal goes sour. He’s got every single reason to come back here and clean up after himself rather than risk that.

It’s what I’d do in his position.

“Shh! I think that’s him,” I whisper through the dark as the knob begins to click.

I’ve kept the light off to give us an advantage. He won’t be able to see us, but we’ll be able to see him.

I move aside and step to the side wall. The door opens and I see an aimed gun slowly make its way passed me into the small room. A wrist. An elbow.

It’s firm, steady. He’s not nervous, he’s not scared. He’s a trained killer, I can tell by the way he confidently moves into the space.

But he has no idea who the fuck I am. He has no idea how I’m practically fighting off a boner, just itching to get my hands on him, thinking he can get away with comin’ after my woman.

Once I see his shoulder, I move. I take the hilt of my marine issued knife and pound it down hilt first onto his skull. He drops in my arms like a lump of dead weight, and Jay quickly moves to disarm him, kicking his gun out of the way.

“Shut the door, throw the light on,” I instruct him.

It takes my eyes a moment to adjust, blinking wildly, holding this fucker down tight in case he’s gonna decide to give us a fight.

He’s out cold, a thin trail of blood streaming down the side of his head. I check his breathing, find his chest moving unevenly, but moving nonetheless. For now, anyway.

Give me some time. I’ll fix that.

“Text them,” I ask Jay to set the plan in motion. We didn’t have much time to piece it together, but it’s the best we could do with such short notice. Should work, though.

It doesn’t exactly help that the hospital is still on lockdown, with cops crawling all over the fucking place. Jay makes good use of our time and quickly checks this guy’s pockets.

A cell. Some cash. Both are stashed in Jay’s pockets for now. We work the dipshit out of his jacket and t-shirt, studying the multicolored tats and scars on his torso. He’s definitely affiliated. Once the door knock comes, we’re ready to move forward.

Blue opens the door, fully dressed in scrubs and a lab coat, throwing a pile of the same garments to each of us. We quickly tear off the hospital gowns throw them on, stashing our own jeans and leather cuts on the gurney that Blue’s brought with him.

He hands each of us the boots he managed to collect from where we’d kicked them off earlier in the gift shop, and we put not only them on, but the little blue elastic surgical shoe covers to hide the black leather that would most definitely give us away.

“Done,” I reach forward and help Blue lift the unconscious man onto the gurney and we pull up the sheet to cover him while Jay finishes with his shoes.

“Done,” he finally calls, picking up all the weapons to stash under the gurney as well.

We roll out the stretcher and turn left just as Charlie had instructed us and continue down the hallway until we see her standing with a clipboard.

“Doctors,” she nods to each of us and hands us little face-masks that loop around our ears.

We each put them on, some having more trouble than others. I roll my eyes at Blue and wait until he’s figured the thing out. Stupid, Asshole. My son could have managed the thing in half the time and he’s not even in kindergarten yet.

“This way.” Sugar leads us as we try to look as medically professional as possible.

She swipes her employee badge, setting off a pair of mechanical doors. We move forward and keep our eyes cast down whenever we pass a legit doctor. Most of these people know Charlie and don’t give us more than a quick glance. She’s changed into some scrubs, too, and although she’s not supposed to be working right now, she sure looks like she is.

We stop at a bank of elevators and she scans her badge once more, before pressing a round black button.

We remain silent as we wait for the elevator to arrive. The patient breaks that silence with a deep moan. Charlie snaps her head back and widens her eyes at the man as he struggles to regain consciousness.

Fuck!

“After you, Doctor,” another nurse joins us as the elevator door opens.

Thank God the elevator is empty, but wouldn’t you know it? The nurse steps in right after us. I can feel Charlie start to panic as the door closes, trapping us all inside.

The man on the stretcher moans again, drawing the new nurse’s attention.

“Looks like he’s in a lot of pain,” she states. “Hey, Charlie. I hear you and Dr. Jacobs are going out tonight.”

I widen my eyes and set them on my woman as she nearly falls.

What. The. Fuck?

“U-uh, no,” she stammers on her words. I bunch my fists, grit my teeth, and feel my eye twitching as I wait for her to finish. “I mean,” she laughs nervously, the kind of laugh she gives me when I catch her doing something she doesn’t want me to know about. “I wouldn’t call it going out, June. Just two coworkers… being social. Completely innocent and absolutely nothing to get worked up about.”

I can tell she’s speaking more to me than the other nurse. It doesn’t do a damn bit of good, though. The semi-conscious man stirs again. I feel the temperature rise about twenty degrees as I begin to sweat in fury.

“Whatever you say, Charlie.” The elevator stops and the troublemaker nurse steps to exit, but stops. “Send me a text and let me know all about it. Have fun!” she says in a knowing way.

Once she’s left and the door shuts securely behind her, I pull my mask off.

“She sayin’ what I think she’s sayin’?” I confront her.

Jay steps in between us, holding me back as I feel my chest swell. “No time for that, brother.”

A loud moan once again calls out and I look down at the man on the gurney as he opens his eyes and stares from one to the next of us, registering he’s in some deep shit.

I feel all the anger that’s built up in me over the last sixty seconds and channel it all into my fist, wailing it down on the lying man’s face, knocking him out cold once again.

Sugar gasps. “You didn’t have to hit him like that!”

Even her brother eyes her, not believing she’s showing compassion for a drug dealing asshole who had every intention of murdering her.

“Oh yeah?” I ask, anger riddled through my voice. “Point me in the direction of Dr. Jacobs and I’ll hit him instead.”

The door rings out and opens, clearing the way to the basement parking area. Charlie’s already managed to move her Jeep to one of the first available spots and we ditch the gurney, propping the half-dead man up to toss into the back.

I slam the hatch door shut. “Get your ass in the car, Miss Social Butterfly.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Dawson on his way?” Vince asks out to whoever can answer first.

Jay nods, “Called him myself. They’ll be here late tonight.

Our Prez steps up to the man hanging from his wrists, tied in a metal chain from the rafters. “And what about this motherfucker? What’s he got to say?”

I loosen my cramped fist and dunk it into the bucket of ice water, hissing out as the pain hits. I hold it steady waiting for the ice to work its magic and cause the hand to go numb.

The once clear water has turned pink over the last hour as I continuously dunk.

“Not much. His lips are sealed tighter than the vag on a pissed-off wife.” I open my fingers and wiggle them.

“What about the tats?” He circles around my specimen and inspects the many tattoos. “Any clue who he’s linked to?”

I withdraw the battered hand and accept the towel that Trojan hands over to me, wrapping it up tight. “You need me to take over?” he asks me.

I shake my head. “Nah. He’s mine.”

I turn around to face Vince who’s still trying to read the artwork over this man’s bloodied skin.

“I don’t speak Espanol, but I got a good grasp on the word ‘Conquistador’. Pretty sure that’s who he’s with,” I update my Prez.

The mention of the word causes the hanging man to stir, attempting to open one swollen, bloodied eye.

“Ain’t that right, motherfucker?” I step forward and ask him. He grunts and spits on the floor, dangerously close to my shoe.

I drop the towel on the floor and swing hard, not caring about the pain it might cause me because I know it will cause him more. My rings cut up his cheek even more, and the punch is just enough for him to pass out again.

His mouth hangs open and the remnants of a tooth falls out.

My fist goes right back into the ice bucket.

“You’re done here. We’re havin’ church. Clean up and get in there.”

Trojan hands me another towel.

~*~

CHARLIE

“I need to see him,” I plead with Jay.

He holds out his arm, barring me from crossing. “Not right now, Charlie.”

I throw my hands up in frustration. “You don’t understand! I need to tell him. It’s getting late, I’m running out of time.”

“Running out of time for what, sis?” He thinks it’s that easy. He thinks I can just tell him, but I can’t. I know how it will sound. I have to be the one to tell Clink, to his face.

I shake my head in annoyance. He’s stubborn, just as stubborn as I am. He won’t let me in.

The other brothers are filing in, taking their seat for the meeting that’s been called to discuss their options.

Vince walks up behind Jay, “What’s going on?”

Desperate people do desperate things.

“You! I need your help!” I lunge passed Jay and take hold of Vince’s arm. “Please, you need to listen to me.”

His eyes are wide, surprised that I’ve not only used the word please while addressing him, but I’ve managed to do it without a single curse word, insult, or flying object.

His free hand reaches up and takes my shoulder. “Anything, Charlie. What is it?”

I look around at all the faces watching our unusual interaction. It’s no secret how much I’ve loathed this man.

“I-I can’t tell you like this, in front of everyone.” I feel the whispers around me.

“Okay. Fine, we’ll talk in private,” he assures me, before leading me over to a corner booth far out of earshot of all the other brothers.

“What is it?” he asks, taking a seat.

I press my lips together, not knowing where to start. “I know what kind of shit you guys are about to get into.”

Vince sits back, “Charlie, you may be my daughter, but you still don’t get to be involved in club business. Leave it to me, the rest of us, and your Ol’ man. We’ll take care of it. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“You don’t understand! I’m guessing that man didn’t tell you guys all that much. But there’s someone who can.”

Vince’s eyes light up like a fucking Christmas tree at my revelation.

“What are you talking about, Charlie. Who can tell us the rest?”

I shake my head. “Not until I have your word. You have to swear to me. If you ever hope to have me do anything other than hate you for the rest of my life, you have to swear.”

I’ve laid out my terms.

He eyes me, probably not liking that I’ve given him an ultimatum. I really don’t care at this point. Enough people have gotten hurt over all of this, maybe even killed and plenty more could end up in the crosshairs unless we do something about it.

Clink walks out of the garage that he’s been locked in for the last hour. He’s sweaty, his hand wrapped in a towel, but he looks… calmer, somehow. As if he’s found a way to let off the steam that’s been building.

He spots me sitting at the far end of the room with Vince an he slows his walk, squinting his eyes. I see him mouth something to Jay, and the two of them look just as perplexed as the other.

“Fine. You have my word.” Vince draws me back into our conversation.

I nod. “All right then. There’s this doctor. He’s had a little thing for me for a while and I took advantage of that to make Clink jealous when he came back into town. Well, I happened to see him with the man that is currently being used as a punching bag in your garage.”

Vince’s eyes widen and he sits forward on his forearms.

“I also happened to see them today, and I overheard their plans. He’s with a cartel. He’s mixed up with the doctor somehow. I’m sure he’s got to be blackmailing him or something. The man took a Hippocratic Oath for Christ’s sake. He’s not the type to go around hurting people, selling drugs. He must have gotten mixed up somehow.

“Well, anyway, he kind of thinks we have plans to see each other tonight. At seven. At my apartment. I know I can get information from him, I know I can find out what all this is about. I just need to talk to him. Please. Let me help him. He doesn’t need to get hurt. I know he’ll cooperate.”

Vince sits back again, his forehead furrowed.

“You really think you can get this guy to talk?”

That was oddly easy….

I nod. “Yes. I’m positive. He’s a bit creepy sometimes but he’s not a drug dealer, he’s not a bad guy.”

“Okay. Let’s try it your way. See if we can get him to talk.”

I’m stupefied. He actually listened to me. He actually agreed. Maybe I’ve misjudged him this whole time.

~*~

CLINK

“Over my dead fucking body!” I jump up and send my chair flying back.

Vince holds his hand up. “Hold on, Clink. You didn’t let me finish.”

It doesn’t matter. I don’t care what he has left to say. It ain’t happening.

“This douchebag shows up at her place at seven. We know where he’s gonna be. He’s expecting her, but instead… he gets us. We nab him, make him talk and then finish this shit,” he proposes.

“She’s nowhere near the house? She never sets foot inside the same goddamned room as his ever again?” I ask, just to make sure.

He nods. “You really think I would ever let my daughter get close a sick sonuva bitch like that?”

Jay nods to me, seemingly accepting the plan. He may not have known Charlie his entire life like Tiny has known Lil’s, but I know he feels just as strongly about his own sister as that brother feels for his own. If he’s Okay with this, as well as her own pop, then I don’t think we have any other choice.

“Well, it’s six forty. We best be getting a move on. You know she’s gonna hate you for this right?” I ask our Prez.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “That girl’s got a fire in her lit up so bad to hate me, I don’t see it changing anytime soon. But she’s gonna be alive  and safe to do all that hatin’.”

T.J. is the first to open the set of double doors and exit, meaning we’ll have to follow behind and break the news to Sugar. She ain’t leaving this place until that walking dead man is gone for good.

I can already see her standing ready for us to include her in our plans, although she has a very different idea of what they’ll be.

Her phone rings and she reaches it while keeping eye contact with me.

“Dana?” I can see her mouth the words.

Her eyes change, her mouth drops open. “Leave-- you leave her alone you sick asshole!”

I run, pushing passed some of the other brothers in my way to reach her. She’s shaking by the time I get to her.

“Don’t touch her! She has nothing to do with this!” Her lips tremble. “Hello? Hello?”

She drops the phone onto the floor.

“What?” I have to shake her to get her to speak. “Sugar, what’s wrong? Where’s Dana?”

“He-- he’s got her. Harris. He has her. He says I need to go, to go alone, otherwise he’ll take her instead.” Charlie drops to her knees. “I can’t let him hurt her. She’s here because of me. She’s my baby sister!”

T.J. springs to life behind me. “I’ll go. I’ll kill the bastard myself.”

“Whoa, now!” We all turn to the new voice, the leader of the group who’s just entered the clubhouse. “You boys lookin’ to start the party before we even have a drink?”

Dawson.

He walks in nonchalantly as if he doesn’t have a care in the fucking world, with about eight of his guys behind him and a shit-eating grin on his smug face. “Who we killin’?”

I reach down and help Sugar to her feet. She buries her chin in my chest and I hold her tight.

Vince steps forward, looking to take charge of the situation before these Slayers look to make themselves any more at home in our place. We may have a truce with them right now, but there’s a thing called respect.

“There’s been a new development,” Vince clues in his counterpart.

Dawson snaps his fingers to the prospect behind the bar, signaling a round of drinks for all his men. “Well, skip the foreplay, Papa. I’m a ‘get it in before it’s fully wet’ kinda guy.”

“He’s got Dana,” Charlie whispers.

I smooth her hair. “I know. Baby, I know. Don’t worry. We’ll get her back.”

I watch Vince hash the shit out with Dawson as I hold a crying Charlie.

~*~

CHARLIE

“Please, don’t hate me,” I beg.

He’s asked, pleaded for me to stay, to reconsider. I can’t do it, though. I can’t leave Dana in that guy’s clutches. I was all wrong about him. I thought I could get him to see things clearly, to volunteer to help us with all this, knowing how bad it could get for himself if he didn’t.

I couldn’t have underestimated him any more than I did.

Clink breathes deep. “I don’t hate you, Sugar. I could never hate you. I just… I need for you to listen to every word I’ve said. You have to do everything just as we’ve said to. Otherwise, I’m coming in there, guns blazing.”

I nod, gulping loudly. I know he’s scared for me. I’m more scared, though.

“Ready?” Leo asks, straightening out my necklace that he’s hidden a transmitter, a wire. They’ll be able to hear and see everything that happens once I’m out of view and in the house.

Honestly, though, who’s ever ready for shit like this?

I nod my head in agreement anyway.

“Okay. We’ll be right here. I can hear you, I can see you. You’ll be perfectly safe. You remember the code word?”

Oh shit! I know that I know it, but I’m drawing a blank right now. My mind is racing a mile a minute on so many things that I can’t remember the most important one.

“Um… Spaniards? Conquerors?”

Clink takes me by the shoulders, his eyes lock onto mine. “Conquistadors. Say it with me, baby.”

“Conquistadors,” I repeat, in unison with him.

He nods. “You got this. Quick. Simple.”

Nothing about this is going to be quick or simple.

I know we have about two dozen pairs of eyes on us right now, including Vince and my brother, but Clink grabs me and kisses me so deep that it causes these stone-cold bikers to blush.

I hold on to him, fearing that it’ll be the last time I feel him, taste him, connect with him. I can’t let myself think this way, otherwise I’ll never leave his arms.

I pull away, my lips still throbbing from the intensity of it, my tongue sore.

Dana. I’ve got to think of Dana.

Jay moves in to give me a hug, “Don’t you go tryin’ anything brave, now. You hear me?”

I laugh nervously. “I hear you, big brother.”

I lock eyes with each of the Kingsmen and they nod. I even catch this new guy Dawson staring at me curiously. He’s got some of the most intense eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re like a wolf’s. Waiting, stalking. It makes me a little uneasy.

“You listen to everything we told you.” I turn to face Vince, as he continues “I want you out in the same condition I’m sending you in.”

I don’t know what’s come over me, but I take a deep breath and lean forward to give him the lightest peck on the cheek. It’s stunned him, his body freezes. Hell, it stunned me even more.

I don’t give anyone a chance to say anything about it. I turn on my heel and walk down the block to my front door. I rehearse and review the plan over and over in my head.

I’ll knock on the door, get him to release Dana and then walk over in front of the main window so they can get a clear fix on him from their scopes. Then as soon as I’m ten feet away, I say the code word, conquistador, and drop to my knees as they shoot.

Again. I go over the plan again, all the way until I’ve reached the front door.

I fulfill the first step of the scheme and knock.

The door opens and Dana steps aside. “I wish you didn’t come, Charlie.”

I walk inside, slowly.

“Of course she came for you, Dana. She’s your big sister. She doesn’t want your blood on her hands.” Harris is cold, indifferent, completely unlike the Harris I’ve known.

“We had a deal. Let her go,” I shout.

He laughs. Like a sick sadistic asshole, he laughs. I reach for Dana’s hand and hold it tight, squeezing.

“But two for the price of one is so tempting.” He’s practically maniacal.

I call his bluff. “Well, then you’ll have none because you’ll have to shoot us both. I’m not playing your game, Harris. I’m not afraid of you.”

I lie. I’m very, very afraid of him. I just hope I’m convincing enough that I’m not.

He bites his lip, sizing me up. “Get out of here, he waves the gun at Dana.”

“No! No, I won’t leave you alone with her!” Dana protests both verbally and physically as I push her out the front door and lock it behind her.

She bangs on the door, begging me to open it. Every syllable, every word cuts deep. Eventually she stops, and I can only assume that T.J.’s come and taken her to safety.

“I’m here. Just like I said. What do you want, Harris? How can we end this?”

He breathes deep. “What do I want? Come over here and sit on my lap and I’ll tell you.”

My eyes dart to the main window. We’re nowhere close enough.

“How ‘bout we sit on the couch instead?” I suggest.

“I said, get your ass over here!” His face turns red. He’s crazy. He’s certifiable.

I hear the gun click, and realize he’s engaged a bullet.

I move close, slowly, but he pulls me in as soon as he can, pushing me down on his lap. I feel a raging hard-on under my legs.

Oh God! I try not to panic, to stay calm.

“Why don’t you tell me what you think I want to do, Nurse Griffiths? How ‘bout we play doctor?”

“Why are you doing this? We can help you. You don’t need to get wrapped up in all of this, Harris.”

He points the tip of the barrel of the gun to my chest, using it to move the fabric of my shirt away until the cold hard steel is playing with the tip of my breast.

“You like that, Charlie? You seem to like it. I’ll bet you’re the kind of girl who likes it rough. Is that why you’re with that greased-up biker? He give it to you rough? I’ll best I can give it to you rougher.”

He continues to swirl the gun around my exposed nipple. I cry out, knowing that the weapon is inches away from my heart. He mentioned Clink. He knows about him. I try to turn the tables a bit.

“If you knew about the biker, then why did you pursue me?” I try to distract him, to buy some time.

“You stupid bitch. I didn’t know about the biker. Not at first, anyway. You were just some piece of ass that I wanted to tap. When you kept turning me down, let’s just say it made it more of a challenge. Then I find out your dad is the leader of the strongest biker gang around these parts and you become a whole lot more appealing to me. I could’ve done some pretty lucrative business with your dad’s crew. Could’ve made us all a lot of money. You could have been my way in.”

He’s finally beginning to talk. I need to keep it going.

“Maybe we can still do business. What kind? Drugs?”

Harris moves the gun down, tracing down my middle. “Don’t pacify, me bitch. I’ve looked into it. Once I found out about your dad, I did some research on the Kingsmen. No drugs. Pity.”

“If you knew the Kingsmen didn’t allow drugs then why did you even start this shit?”

He’s beginning to lose patience with me. “Supply and demand. This is one of the only towns that doesn’t have an active drug market going on. Now, knowing what I do about the Kingsmen, I can see why, but back then it just looked like a golden opportunity. No competition. Pure profits. My associates thought it was too risky, but I told them I’d prove them wrong.”

The gun is now pressing in between my thighs, pushing its way in. I know if I resist him, he’ll have to push harder and could accidentally squeeze the trigger, so I don’t fight it.

“You don’t sound like a doctor, Harris. You sound like a drug lord.”

“Let’s just say I didn’t get through medical school by taking out loans. I met a lot of people. People who could get me what I need, like the little pills you needed. There’s a demand for it. I can open the channels to supply them. It’s a gold mine. Just like this little gold mine right here….”

He’s rubbing his weapon back and forth over me.

“So if you know the Kingsmen won’t allow it, then what are you doing, Harris? You’re digging yourself in deeper. There won’t be a way out, soon.”

The gun presses into me, right over the patch of fabric that covers the tense nub of nerves that are screaming silently in disgust at the foreign touch.

“The only thing I’m going to be digging, is my cock deep in your pussy, baby.” He licks my neck like a lollipop. “Maybe we’ll even play with the gun a little since it turns you on so much. And when I’m done with you, I’m gonna turn you over to my business associates to use as collateral to make sure your dad plays nice and doesn’t interfere in the new business ventures I’ll have convinced them are worth starting here in Chisolm.”

I try to wiggle free, fully aware now of his intentions.

“Wait!” I plead. “Not here. Please. My man has some kind of nanny-cam thing in the living room. Surveillance, for protection. He’ll hear. Please. I can’t do that to him.”

Harris laughs. “Oh, good. He’s been listening this whole time, he know’s what I’m about to do to his little Ol’ lady. Well, now he can see it, too. Get on the couch.”

I get up, moving in the direction of the living room, to my only hope right now. One step, two step, three step.

“CONQUISTADOR!” I yell and drop to the floor.

The bullets begin to spray into the house, and I scream out as I cover my ears and huddle in the fetal position, clenching my eyes tight. I feel bits of flying debris settling on me, as the bullets slow their pace before ending all together.

I keep my eyes shut tight, not risking opening them and seeing the carnage around me. I wait in agony for what seems like forever, my ears ringing violently from the barrage of deafening gunfire.

I begin to rock, back and forth, repeating to myself

It’s over. It’s over.

And then I feel it. The strong hands, arms reaching around me and lifting me, carrying me. I can’t talk, I can’t cry, I can’t do anything right now except reach my arms around his neck and hold on tight.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THREE WEEKS LATER

“A little to the right. No, left. Perfect! Right there,” I yell out through cupped hands at the men standing on ladders.

“Hey, Clink! Is she this bossy in bed?” Blue’s struggling to hold the giant cupcake sign still as Dewey works the fastners.

“Every fucking night, brother. Jealous?” My man walks by, carrying a plastic five-gallon tub of paint. He playfully bites at my neck.

Dana follows him, carrying an armful of brushes and rollers staring at the new bakery sign. “What do you think?” I ask her.

She eyes the sign. “It’s very big.”

Blue can’t resist that one either. “Hey, T.J.! Is that what she says to you in bed?”

I take a paintbrush from Dana’s arms and throw it full-force at Blue, nearly causing him to lose his balance.

“Every fucking night, brother. Jealous?” T.J. shouts back, rummaging through the pile of supplies in the back of the pickup truck.

Dana rolls her eyes, “Blue has no idea…”

I playfully swat her. “Gross!”

She laughs as she walks carefully into the building. The two men on ladders seem to be struggling.

“Is this a job for three people?” I shout. “I mean it looks like this calls for three people.”

Blue stares at me. “Oh shit, you did not just hand me that on a silver platter. Hey, Clink! Is that what she says to you in-”

“Do not even think about finishing that sentence!”

Vince lifts his sunglasses in passing, glaring at the smart-ass he’s just reprimanded. He turns to me and winks before lowering his shades and disappearing into the workspace.

I smile. We’re nowhere near where most fathers and daughters are, but it’s damn nice not having a shouting match with him every time we’re together.

I grab the pile of drop cloths I’d been carrying earlier before getting distracted by the sign and finish the journey to where people are waiting for them.

The sound of electric screwdrivers and saws fills the rooms as the new cabinets and display case are being installed. Every Kingsman brother who’s not locked up is here today, getting everything ready for the grand opening in two weeks.

Jean is applying the custom decal over the back wall.

HAVE A LIL’ CUPCAKE.

Ha! Cute name. Every time I see it, I laugh. It’s perfect. A little bit of Lil’s and a little bit of Dana.

“Here you go,” I drop the pile of cloths at Leo’s feet. “These floors are brand new.” I point to the shiny wood. “Please don’t get paint on them.”

“Hey, Dana! Looks like you got your first customer! A little early, though.” Trojan points out the window to the black Mercedes that carefully pulls into the lot.

Oh. Fuck.

I step closer to get a better view, although Dana’s beaten me to it. “That’s not a customer. That’s my mother!”

Every hammer, every paintbrush, every screw gun stops, with each pair of eyes darting to the woman dressed in a perfectly tailored pair of dress slacks and a matching cardigan set who exits the car.

Her designer shades hide her eyes, but I know her well enough to guess exactly what those eyes look like right now.

“Sugar, what color did you say Dana wanted the kitchen?” Clink enters the room holding a pair of color swatches, completely shirtless, bearing every single tattoo from the waist up. “What’s going on?” he continues, taking in the work stoppage.

The sudden quiet and stillness alerts him that something is off.

I point to the door.

“Fuck,” is all he’s able to muster. “Should I go warn Vince?”

I shake my head. “No time.”

My mother carefully steps over the scattered supplies until she’s fully entered the building.

“Mom!” I call out as cheerfully as I can. Dana just stands stunned. “Wha-what are you doing here?”

She politely takes her sunglasses off and tucks them properly into her specialized case.

“I could ask you the same thing, Charlize.”

I swallow hard.

“Dana, dear, whatever is going on here?” She turns to her youngest, like a predator picking off the weakest one first. “What has Charlie gotten you into?”

“Uh, how did you find this place, Mom?” Dana replies, still stunned.

Mom tucks her bag under her arm, lifting her chin, acting as sophisticated as she can, sending subliminal messages to everyone around her that she is better than them.

“I received a call from a realtor, looking to verify your employment. You had apparently applied for a lease,” she scans her eyes over the construction space.

“Shit,” I whisper under my breath to Clink.

He leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. “It was bound to happen sooner or later, Sugar. Face it like a big girl.”

He then smacks me on the ass and yells out to everyone in the room. “Break time! Everyone get the fuck out and get some lunch!”

Mom jumps a little bit at the loud announcement.

“Regina,” Clink nods his head to her in passing. “Good to see you again.”

Mom does a double take. “Brian?”

He smiles. I see mom turning to watch him walk away, the full tattoo of the Kingsman patch sprawled out on his back, moving with him.

“Mom?” Dana brings mom’s attention back from following my man as he walks away. “We should talk.”

Mom looks like she’s seen better days. “I should say so.”

Dana helps her, grabbing her arm for support as the expensive heels step between the landmines of tools.

“Did someone say lunch?” Vince wipes his forehead, no idea what the hell he’s just walked into.

I freeze. I literally freeze, that is until I decide it’s a good idea to whip my head back and forth between the two of them, waiting for someone to speak. Someone other than myself, of course.

“Regina.” He acknowledges her. I can hear the restraint in his voice.

Mom tries to look as stoic as she can but I see the little cracks in the façade. “Would you please excuse us? I need to speak with my daughter.”

“Our daughter, “ he corrects her, not nearly as experienced as she is when it comes to hiding his emotions.

She stares at me. “Charlie?”

I turn to Vince and take a deep breathe. “It’s Okay. We should probably have a few minutes.”

“You sure?” he asks.

I nod, “Yes, of course.”

He turns and heads back the way he came, avoiding having to cross paths with my mother. Probably a good idea.

“Have a seat,” I offer her one of the customer booths.

“I’ll stand, thank you.” She’s firm.

I roll my eyes. “Jesus Christ, mother! Can you just stop acting like a royal bitch for one moment?”

Her eyes open wide. She’s speechless. So is Dana.

“How do you want me to act, Charlie? Hmm? Like- like one of them?” Something’s switched, very quickly. She’s now on the verge of tears.

I feel sorry for her, realizing just what it must have done to her pride to come back here, to face all this again. To see me as part of it.

“Mom…” I try.

She waves me off. “No. No. I’m all right. You’ve made your choice. I see that now.”

I’m exhasperated. “I’m not choosing. I don’t have to choose! No one does. I’m trying to do what’s right for me, Mom. Just because this isn’t the life you chose doesn’t mean it’s worth any less.”

“You promised me! You promised me you would never come here, you would never try to find him. I never should have told you.” She begins to reason with herself.

“Why?” I challenge her. “So I wouldn’t find out the truth? So I wouldn’t find out what really happened?”

She throws her bag down. “You have no idea what really happened!”

Dana steps back, shocked at the very uncharacteristic display of fury from our mother.

“I do know! I know how you were young, and stupid, and carefree for probably the only time in your life. I know how you fell in love, hopelessly in love. I know how it hurt you when he didn’t return that love, when he chose someone else. I know how you thought you’d hurt him, how you thought you’d erase him from your life for doing that to you. And I know, how everything turned out the way it was supposed to be.”

She’s silent, doesn’t refute any of my claims, and for the first time I actually believe Vince and what he’s sworn to me. That he didn’t know about me, that he never would have abandoned me if he had.

I see the tears and the hurt in her eyes and I can’t be angry at her for it. I astonish myself by finding forgiveness for the scared young girl who did the only thing she could think of.

“Don’t you see, Mom? If you hadn’t done those things, then you wouldn’t have found daddy. You wouldn’t have given me the most amazing father a girl could ever ask for. And then there wouldn’t have been Dana.”

I reach for my sister’s hand and squeeze it. “I know things worked out the way they were supposed to, but that doesn’t mean that I have to write off this part of my life like you did. This is where I belong. And that doesn’t mean that you don’t belong in my life, too. There’s room for everyone.”

She swallows hard.  “And you?” she asks Dana. “Is this the life for you, too?”

Dana looks unsure of how to answer the question.

“I don’t know, Mom. I don’t know what life has in store for me. But I do know that it’s my journey to make. My decisions, my mistakes.” She looks around the messy room. “This is good for me. This is where I belong right now. But Charlie’s right. There’s room for you, and I want you to know that. We have our grand opening soon. It would really mean a lot to me if you came.”

I know Dana’s asking a lot, probably too much. This is going to take time.

“And do you have a biker, too? An Ol’ man?” Mom asks her.

Dana shakes her head. “No. There’s someone I really like. I might even love him one day. But today… today I have a boyfriend. And I have a great relationship with my sister, and that’s enough for me. I hope it can be enough for you, too.”

“I see.” Mom picks up her bag from where she’s thrown it, dusting off the white coating. “I have a dinner meeting. I should get going.”

She turns and steps over the nail gun blocking her path. She stops short and admires the stenciled wall.

“Have a Lil’ Cupcake?” She chuckles. “I like it.”

Dana and I both turn to each other behind Mom’s back and stare in amazement at the compliment.

“Make sure to have a thermometer in the cold case, otherwise your frostings will wilt.”

And… there’s the mom we all know and love.

“Wait!” Vince calls out. I hold my breath as he passes me. “I have something to say to you!”

Oh, fuck!

Mom turns around, fear in her eyes. Fear that she’ll be held accountable for what she’s done. Fear that she’ll have to accept the true reasons behind what she did… hurt, rejection, heartbreak.

Vince stops short about a foot away from my mother. “You can’t leave here without me saying this.”

I’ve never seen them next to each other before. I try to imagine the love-struck young girl who once looked at him with adoration. I try to picture him younger, too, maybe with a kind face and some sweet words.

He holds out his hand.

Mom stares at it as if it could be a loaded weapon.

“I want to thank you. For raising her to be the remarkable woman she is. I want to thank you for that. You and your husband were really good parents.”

Dana wraps her arm around me to hold me upright as I nearly faint.

Mom looks past him to me, and we lock eyes. For the first time ever, I see her. I really see her. And she sees me.

“Thank you,” she shakes his hand delicately. They remain silent, letting go of the past that’s haunted them both. She reaches into her bag for her eyecase and shields her eyes with glasses before any more emotion is displayed.

Once she’s nearly to her car, the loudest cat-call is whistled. Blue admires the woman, my mother, from afar. Mom jumps a bit and moves to shield her ass as if she knows the pervert is staring at it before entering the safety of her car.

“I should probably find T.J.,” Dana is quick to abandon the father-daughter awkwardness that’s justsetting in.

“That was really nice of you. To do that. To say that to her.” I speak quietly.

He nods, shifting his eyes from mine so I don’t see the small tear in the corner. “Meant every word. I’m- I’m not sure I could have done as good a job. I don’t ever want to take the place of your pop.”

I swallow the lump at the base of my throat, nearly choking on suppressed tears. “I know. But… maybe there’s something else that you can be.”

His eyes widen, showing me the glimpse of hope they hold.

“How ‘bout a friend? Let’s start there.”

He purses his lips in thought. “Can friends buy friends lunch?”

I laugh.

“Yeah. They can. Maybe a beer, too, if you’re lucky.”

~*~

CLINK

“You take care of that little project?” Jay tosses his tool belt into the cab of the truck.

I step closer, knowing the information we’re about to share isn’t for everyone’s ears, leaning up against the fender of the cherry red Ford.

“Dawson wasn’t interested, he says he’s already taken care of it.”

“Stupid motherfucker! He’s gonna bring a fuckin’ drug cartel right to his goddamned doorstep!” Jay kicks the tire, causing the truck to rock violently.

We’ve set things up real nice to cover up all the shit that went down between the doc, the cartel runner, and all the collateral damage. We should have known it was too good to be true, that the Slayers, that Dawson, wouldn’t just stick to the plan.

“It’s out of our hands, brother. He wants to dance with the devil? He better be prepared to tango, ‘cause those fuckers won’t be interested in playin’ around.” I keep my voice low as Jean and Sunny walk past.

I nod to them and they wave. Everyone’s packing up for the day, getting ready to call it quits till tomorrow.

“His funeral,” Jay wipes the sweat from his brow. “He’s on his own. As long as he keeps his mess in his own backyard I’m washing my hands of it.”

I shrug my shoulders, not really giving a damn. Dawson’s got a hot head, reacts quick and doesn’t think about the shit it could bring down on him, or his club.

He was helpful enough, setting everything up the night of the shootout. We took the half-conscious Mexican and set him up as the shooter, carrying out what’s been chalked up as retaliation for a drug deal gone bad against the good doctor.

We kept him pretty loopy and stumbling in the street outside Charlie’s house with an empty assault rifle. The cops showed up just in time to spot the bloodied man carrying a weapon in front of a shot up house and just as we hoped, opened fire on the threat.

Once they entered the crime scene and found the body of Dr. Walker, the murder case was considered shut. Charlie had an impenetrable cover story with plenty of witnesses, who just all happened to be Kingsmen.

Neat. Tidy. The local PD couldn’t have asked for a better case if it plopped in its lap, which… it kind of did.

All of our loose ends were tied, all of our asses covered. It was the perfect ending to a perfectly fucked-up situation.

That was… until Dawson decided he wasn’t content with things the way they sat. He wanted to send a message to the Conquistadors that tried to move in on his turf. He sent that message… a bloodied picture of the Mexican man hanging from a chain before we let him down to plant in the crime scene.

The photo message came with very explicit warnings of what Slayers do to other dealers who move in on their turf. It’s only a matter of time before it comes back to bite him in the ass… but I have a funny feeling that’s just what the fucker wanted.

“I gotta get outta here, pick some shit up at the store on my way home. You ready for tonight?” Jay breaks out his keys.

“Ready as I’m gonna be. Any last words of advice?”

He laughs. “Ask me tomorrow after you do it and I’ll give you a whole fuckin’ list of ‘em. If I tell them to you now, though… it’ll just scare you off.”

I tap the fender twice as the truck drives off, Jay laughing loud enough to be heard through the window.

The sun sets, blinding me as I watch the truck drive off into the horizon. It’s getting late. I check my watch. I gotta get going myself and get everything set up before Sugar gets home.

~*~

CHARLIE

The lights are on as I pull in the driveway. I can’t help but feel the butterflies swirling around in my stomach as I set eyes on the house, knowing he’s waiting inside for me.

It’s our last night together before Brendan comes home, and he’s warned me that he’s planned something special. I’ve given him plenty of time to get whatever it is setup.

Tuesday night is the night that I take Sable to the meeting down at the church for recovering drug addicts. She’s had a rough go of it, but she’s doing it. I know Blue’s been supportive of her cleaning up her act, but she says she doesn’t want him taking her to the meetings. Not yet, anyway.

So… for the last two weeks, I’ve taken her.

It’s been a good experience for her. And for me. I may not have grown addicted like she was, like all the people in that room are every week, but I know I came dangerously close to sliding down that slope.

I was escaping shit, running away from things. It took me a while to realize you can’t run away from your demons. The faster you run, the faster they catch up.

I’m thankful for the life lesson, though. Without it, I wouldn’t have realized everything that I could lose… everything that’s worth fighting for in my life.

One of those reasons is standing there, somewhere in that house, waiting for me. And I’m not going to keep him waiting a moment longer.

“That sounds really great, kiddo.” Clink’s eyes dart up as I open the front door. “Hey, she just got home. You want to say hi?”

Clink hands me the phone as I set my bag down. He gives me a kiss on the forehead before walking passed.

“Hey, sweet boy! I miss you!” I haven’t spoken to Brendan since his last call a couple of days ago. “You having fun with Granny?”

“Hey, Chawlie! We’re gonna drive the truck home tomorrow!” He’s so excited.

I laugh. “I know. We can’t wait for you to come back home. Make sure Granny has plenty of Turtles movies for you to watch in the car.”

“Chawlie…. I don’t like the Tuwtles anymore. They’re for babies. I like the Avengers.”

I laugh again, louder. “Okay. We’ll have to go get some Avengers for you. Make sure you brush your teeth. And say hi to Granny for me, Okay?”

“OK,  Chawlie. I see you tomawow.”

I take a deep breath, “I’ll see you tomorrow, kiddo. Love you.”

I don’t expect him to say it back, but it breaks my heart in the best way, every time he does.

“I Love you, too. Night!”

I stare at the phone long enough to hear the dial tone before I finally disconnect.

“We have to go shopping tomorrow morning,” I inform Clink as I place the phone back on the receiver.

He raises his eyebrow. “Yeah? For what?”

“Avengers stuff, because apparently he’s not a baby anymore.”

Clink laughs. “Thatta boy. Pretty soon he’ll be wanting toy motorcycles and Harley t-shirts.”

I roll my eyes. “God help me.”

“Speaking of which. I told you I have a surprise for you.” His eyes dart to the kitchen table where a white box sits.

I smile. “Baby! You didn’t have to get me anything.”

I walk over to him and slide my hands up into his hair, drawing him in to let my lips thank him properly. The late-day stubble on his chin is the perfect length to give the right amount of rawness to the act.

“Mmm,” he moans as I have my way with him.

“You eat? You want me to make you something?” I ask.

He smiles wickedly. “Don’t you worry about me. I’m gonna eat real soon. I’m gonna have a fuckin’ feast.”

I roll my eyes at him and the crude words that immediately turn me on like a faucet.

“Open it,” he reminds me of the box.

I carefully take off the lid and push aside the tissue paper. I take a very sharp breath and look to him. He smirks and I turn back to the gift, holding it up to see. It’s my rag, my leather vest. Not a new one, but the same exact one.

I turn it over to see the back, where I’d cut it in half in anger. My fingers trace the perfect stitches that have brought the two halves back together.

“It’s… it’s-”

He steps closer, wrapping his arms around my waist, eyeing the garment from over my shoulder. “It’s us.”

I turn in his arms. “Huh?”

He smiles. “It’s us. Broken in half, each part incomplete without the other. But now, you see, it’s stronger than before. The stitches reinforce it, adding strength to the place it was weak. Now, it’s not so easily broken for the next time.”

“The next time?” I wonder aloud.

He nods. “Yup. My momma once told me that the good things never come easy. But, you gotta ride through it to get to the best part.”

“Your momma sounds like a really smart lady. And she raised a pretty special guy. I can’t wait to meet her.”

Clink bites his lip. “You remember the first time I gave you that rag?”

My stomach drops thinking about all the delicious things we did to each other that night. “Mmm hmmm,” is all I manage to reply.

“Good. ‘Cause I’m gonna strip you naked just like I did that night, and you’re gonna wear my leather on your back as I do to you just what I did that night. Do you remember what I did to you?”

“Mmm hmmm,” I repeat as I begin to pant.

“Very good. But this time, it’s gonna be a little different.” He whispers in my ear. “Do you know how it’s gonna be different?”

I shake my head, wanting so desperately to skip the explaining and get to the doing.

“This time, you’re gonna wear something else of mine.”

What? What’s he talking about?

I pull away to see him holding his hand closed. My heart stops. I know what’s inside. Holy shit! I didn’t see this coming in a million years.

His eyes twinkle mischievously. “Do you know what’s inside here?”

I nod, unable to make even the most basic moan that I had before.

His lip twitches in that carnal way that lets me know he’s about to be intense. I feel the hot drop of liquid trailing down my leg, soaking into my jeans.

“Do you want what’s in here, Sugar?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

I nod. He reaches down to grab hold of my ass and hikes it high to straddle him. I clutch my man in my arms and my rag in my hand as he steers us toward the bedroom.

“Good. ‘Cause tonight… tonight you’re gonna fuckin’ earn it, Sugar.”

THE END

…or is it?

When one story ends, another begins.

Continue reading for a sneak peek at a brand new

Spin-off series of the Kingsmen M.C

THE SLAYERS, MC

Book 1

FIRST RIDE

November 2015

By Tara Oakes

“Since when are bikers the good guys?

….they’re FILTHY as sin.”

CHAPTER ONE

DAWSON

“You get the delivery?”

I may be speaking to the man, the brother, Uno, as he pulls up a seat next to me… but I’m most definitely looking at the chick in front of me. She knows it, too, feeding off it, putting on a show just for me… and my cock.

“Yeah, boss. Damn Russians are getting greedy about it, too. Say they’re gonna up the price five percent for the next order. I think they can tell we need it bad.”

His one good eye settles on me.

I take a sip of the tall bottle and suck on the opening a little bit, nursing it, before arching my eyebrow and holding it up for the stripper on stage to see. I’ve banged her a time or two before, and I know this chick, Candy, is always up for a good time. Especially one that puts a little extra money in her pocket.

She drops to all fours, saunters over like a lioness in heat, never breaking eye contact with me as her hips sway to the heavy beats of the blasting music. Her perfectly fake tits hang low, jiggling with each stride until she’s in front of me on the raised platform of a stage.

Finally moving her eyes from mine, she fixes on the bottle I hold to her. She knows what I want. Her bright-red lips open wide, practically unhinging her goddamned jaw like a pro before closing around the tip of the dark amber-colored glass bottle.

Her cheeks hollow as she sucks the air in, creating a vacuum that my dick remembers all-too-well, before sliding down and mouth-fucking the beer as I watch.

My cock stirs.

Uno gasps, enjoying Candy’s demonstration of one of her many, many, talents. She’s one of our best girls, gets paid top dollar, too. I feel the hungry eyes of all the other patrons ogling her and know she’s gonna be making bank tonight, with each one of their sorry asses wanting to get a little taste of her.

“Boss, we got a problem.”

Candy doesn’t miss a beat, doesn’t let our intruder break her rhythm.

“What?” I growl.

The kid hesitates, quickly picking up on why this might be a bad time to interrupt. “Uh… Tommy says he got a problem with one of the new girls. He’s gettin’ all ballsy again.”

I take the bottle back reluctantly, with a loud popping sound echoing as it leaves the tight confines of her sucking mouth.

“Here,” I hand the bottle to Uno, done with it for now.

I laugh to myself as the dozens of men perched around the perimeter of the stage do just as I’d thought they would, and wave green bills around in the air eagerly to get their own private demonstration from the naked woman on stage.

My heavy boot kicks the bottom of the double swing-door leading back to the dressing rooms, not happy that I have to intervene yet again in staff shit. I pay Tommy good money- you’d think he’d be able to do his damn job and handle this shit on his own.

I hear the loud slapping sound like a fuckin’ fire alarm, and quicken my step.

“I told you, you’re gonna go out there and shake that little ass of yours!” The balding man’s hand is still held in the air, threatening a repeat.

“What the fuck are you doin?” I feel my chest rumbling like a diesel engine at what I’ve walked in on.

The small girl standing with her hand covering her cheek is stone still, crying. I don’t recognize her, but hell, I usually can only tell these girls apart by their tits and their asses, and this girl’s not showing either of them right now.

“H-hey, Dawson,” he stammers. “The new girl says she doesn’t want to dance, says she’s changed her mind.”

“And?” I ask, shifting my eyes to scan her. The dark jeans she’s got on hug her short little legs just enough for me to tell what’s underneath the fabric is mouthwatering.

“Last I checked, we got ourselves an open door policy,” I remind the prick, although I’m gonna be reminding him of a whole lot more in a few minutes.

“She’s supposed to go on next, D. We got no one else here right now.” The washed-up snake of a man tries to justify himself.

It’s a Tuesday, one of the slower nights for business. We keep all the regular girls on a pretty tight rotation, giving most of them this night off.

A heavy breathing draws my thoughts to the petite young thing who’s finally moved. She wipes the back of her hand against her lower lip. I don’t know why it caught my attention the way it did, but I watch the plump little cushion of her mouth rebound and her long-lashed eyes widen as they spot the drop of red on the porcelain skin of her hand.

I’ve seen blood more times than most- bucket loads of it. But, the one lone drop of it smeared on the tiny woman is enough to have me seething.

I move quick, fast enough to cause the little thing next to me to jump in place as I charge the greasy-skinned man in front of me, sending him crashing into the wall.

“What did I tell you about keeping your hands to yourself, Tommy? You think I give a flyin’ fuck if I got an empty stage for a few minutes? Apologize to her.”

The only things holding him high in the air right now, suspended against the wall with his scrawny legs dangling, are my fists- fists that want desperately to pound the ever-loving shit out of him.

“I- I’m sorry, D. Really.” He’s practically pissing his pants.

“I said! Apologize to her.” My teeth are like heavy stones grinding together.

Guys like this… they get their kicks outta hitting women ‘cause they don’t have the balls to hit another man. Guys like this need to be taught a lesson, a lesson they won’t forget.

His eyes dart passed me to where I’m certain the girl hasn’t budged. “Sorry.”

“Hey, Esè!” I call back to the prospect who summoned me earlier. “Pick out the prettiest little G-string you can find. Tommy here’s gonna fill the empty time on stage.”

I feel my lips crack into a smile as I cast down the man’s sentence onto him. “And if he tries to step off that stage one fuckin’ time before his song’s over, you make sure to take him out back and show him how a real man hits.”

“D… D-- don’t get carried away, Dawson. I- I won’t ever hit another one of these sluts again, promise.” He wiggles around like a fuckin’ weasel in my grip.

I feel my eye twitch, involuntarily, hearing the word “slut” come out of his mouth and I change my mind about practicing a little self-restraint.

I pull back my right arm, my deadly arm, and wail right into his out of shape, flabby, beer gut, causing him to double over as I drop him. His gasping and retching for air is like music to my ears and I close my eyes as I savor it.

“Esè!” I call the prospect. “Get him outta my sight and up on that stage!”

The young guy moves fast, eager to please me as he grabs the scruff of the sorry sack of shit of a man and drags him away.”

I move my neck harshly to the side, cracking the joint to relieve the tension that’s built up.

“Thank you,” a soft whisper of a voice breaks the silence.

I turn, expecting her to be cowering in some corner, but she’s not. Now in front of her, I can finally get a good look. Her dirty-blonde, shoulder-length hair is pushed back, fully showcasing her bright blue eyes. They’re clear- not red and stoned like I’m used to seeing around here.

“I’m sorry about not dancing, about causing all this trouble”, she says.

I see the base of her throat constrict as she swallows hard. The sight of watching this pretty little thing’s throat closing tight, makes my cock harder than anything Candy could’ve done on that stage as I find myself wondering if this angelic little blonde’s got a gag reflex.

“Yeah… you don’t really look like the type that comes in here to dance.” I state the obvious. Her jeans may be tight around the luscious thighs I’m sizing up, but her top isn’t. The plain black shirt she’s wearing isn’t even cut low enough for me to tell if the round handful-sized mounds that sit high on her chest are real.

“I thought I could do it. I really did,” she shakes her head, disappointed in herself. “I needed to do it.”

Her reaction baffles me. I’ve never seen a chick disappointed in not becoming a stripper. Usually… it’s the other way around.

“Come again?” I arch my eyebrow.

“Sorry,” she’s quick to try to erase her last statement. “It’s not your problem.”

I don’t know what it is about her, maybe it’s the honesty behind her words, the demure way she carries herself so differently than most of the broads that walk through these doors, but it’s something.

Maybe it’s the real disappointment I see on her face as if she’s pissed at herself, clearly not used to falling short on things.

“You in some kind of trouble, darlin’?” I get the feeling there’s more to this story than just a chick not being able to fulfill some stripper fantasy.

She closes her eyes softly, shaking her head. “I’ll figure it out.”

What is it about her?

“That hurt?” I take the steps to go to her, expecting her to flinch or jump back like most people do when I get close.

She doesn’t.

She just scrunches her forehead, confused. I take my thumb and trace under the pink area forming near the corner of her mouth. Her skin is warm… so warm and inviting, so perfect.

She hisses as I touch near the wound, instinctively raising her hand to protect the cut, settling her warm, delicate, fingers over mine. Her eyes widen in shock as she feels the swelling of her lip.

“You ever been hit before?” I already know the answer, judging by her reaction.

She licks her lip, biting on the bottom one a bit. “No.”

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath waiting for her answer until after she’d given it. Good. A sweet little angel face like this has no business being touched like that.

I search her eyes, trying to find something, anything, that will help solve her mystery.

“I should go,” she whispers.

I snap my hand back. Yeah, she should go. There’s no room here for a woman like this.

“Here,” I take the wad of cash from my pocket, pulling off the money clip. I don’t count how many bills I hold out to her. It doesn’t matter… I’ve got plenty more.

“No,” she steps back and waves the money away. “I can’t. I didn’t dance. I didn’t earn it.”

A lightning strike of anger courses through me and I fear she’ll sense it, will be afraid of it. A woman like this shouldn’t have to earn her money shakin’ her shit for drooling men.

“You earned it, angel.” I don’t know where or when I came up with the name, but it suits her. Despite the bruise forming on her otherwise perfect mouth, she’s got the face of an angel. “You saved me a fuckin’ headache, did me a favor. That piece of shit’s got no business being around my staff. I’m just sorry it took him hitting you for me to realize it.”

She breathes deep, her chest rising, bringing her an inch or so closer to me and I revel in it. I see her watch the money hungrily, like it could mean a world of difference to her. I see the war raging in her eyes whether to take it or not, and most importantly, I see the pride that’s holding her back from accepting it.

I do the hard part for her and place the money in her hand, closing her fingers around it. My hand lingers, holding hers within, longer than it should.

I can feel her breathing against my chest, struggling with the decision, with the closeness. I’m struggling, too. I’m torn between wanting to fuck her raw, or throw her ass outta here so she can get as far away from me as possible before I do it.

The devil in me could ruin a perfect little angel like this. Normally, I wouldn’t think twice.

“See ya around, angel,” I whisper before leaving her speechless, getting the hell away from her before I no longer have a choice in the matter.

Part of me believes my words, hopes I’ll see her again. Part of me doesn’t. That’s the part of me that senses this chick, this angelic little thing, could douse me in fucking holy water and I’d beg for more if it meant I could look into those big blue eyes while she’s doing it.

I didn’t catch her name and it’s probably better that way. She doesn’t need a name, doesn’t need anything to make her any more real to me. I like the name I gave her, instead.

Angel.

Did you enjoy this sample of

FIRST RIDE

Book 1 in the brand new

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Tara is a thirty-something newbie author from Long Island, New York. She's a voracious reader, a passionate writer and and obsessive junk T.V. aficionado. When she's not doing one of those three things she is attempting to garden, hanging with her hubby or partaking in some retail therapy. She enjoys connecting with her readers and is having a blast entering into this new world of publishing.

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ALL AVAILABLE NOW ON AMAZON.COM

Table of Contents

BITTER SWEET CRAVINGS

COPYRIGHT © 2015

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

BIKER FRIENDLY REFERENCE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER ONE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR