A Lil' Less Hopeless

Book Three

The Kingsmen MC

TARA OAKES

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

First edition. December 3, 2014

Copyright c. 2014 Tara Oakes

Written by Tara Oakes

Published by Smashwords

Book Cover: Image by Tatiana Vila, www.viladesign.net

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

It’s thank you time again! Yay! I have such a hard time writing out my acknowledgments. In some ways, it’s harder than writing the book. Simple words are sometimes not enough to express the thanks and gratitude I have to all of you that have helped turn simple ideas, into the book you are about to read.

To my editor, Laura Classi, thanks once again for all the red pen love. Whether it’s dealing with last minute deadlines, sharing puppy advice or sending dozens of photo messages of edited pages back and forth... you came through like a champ. Now if only I can keep my past and present tense in check, we’d be golden and we’d save a hell of a lot of red ink.

To Desire’, my personal assistant, thank you so much for keeping me on my toes and putting up with all my forgetfulness and late night bimbo-ness. And thank god she can decipher my crazy, error filled speed typing.

Thanks to both Claire and Alicia, my international chicas for all of their support and tech savviness. To all of the girls in my street team, the trollops.... thanks so much for being such an active and wonderful group to come to. I don’t get to stop by as much as I used to, but it always brightens my day when I do.

Thanks to CBB for all of your help and support. You are the teaser queen! We bow down to you.

To all of the blogs that support everything from my cover reveals, takeover events, book releases and everything in between... thanks so much, guys. Indies and blogs go hand in hand. We both love books, whether we are writing them or supporting them, it’s a beautifully interdependent relationship.

Thanks to Tatiana for another great cover.

Thanks to all of the readers for your unending support. I love the feedback, and hope I’ve given you all the conclusion to Jay and Lil’s tale, that you’ve been wanting.

And finally.... to my Lambchop. Happily ever after doesn’t just happen in romance novels. It happens in real life, too. There are chapters, and cliff hangers... high points, and lows. Our story is still being written, but it’s more epic than any I could even attempt to put into words.

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 Lil's and Jay, two people born and raised in the secret world of the M.C., 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 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 the leather vest worn by most bikers in a club.

MC—

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 on the whole.

Patched in –

When a prospect completes his initiation period and is voted in to become a full-fledged club member, or “Brother.”

Patches –

The cloth patches or embroidered designs added to bikers’ vests, or cuts, that identify 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.

Pig -

A law enforcement officer.

Prospect –

Those who desire to become full-fledged patched members must complete an initiation period as a prospect 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 welcome at club parties, or “Brother only” parties, but they 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 they are members even if they’re not wearing their cuts. An ol' lady will usually have a tattoo to honor her ol' man to signify that she is his property even if she is not wearing her rag.

CHAPTER ONE

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LIL'S

I'm no girlie girl. I was never one to play dress up as a little kid, play house, or fantasize about marrying some handsome prince one day. I swore off pink at a pretty early age and was less concerned with carbs and calories than I was about my tomboy-induced scraped knees as a teen. I've been accused on more than one occasion of having the mouth of a truck driver...well, more like the mouth of a biker. Kind of came with the territory, I guess. It gives some credence to the whole “nature vs. nurture” argument.

So... sitting and playing with my ring finger in the stream of sunlight casting through the window, and watching how it sparkles and reflects off of the stone, was just not something I should be doing... you know... with the whole “not being a girly girl” thing. So why was I?

“Julia!”

My attention breaks from the shameless display of overt femininity.

“Huh?”

Jessica, my college friend, is sitting behind the wheel, looking for some interaction with her passenger. I can't blame her really, it's been a long car ride so far, capping off an even longer day. She was just looking for something to break the silence. It's not her fault I'm not in the mood for conversation.

I break my mini trance and raise my slightly heavier left hand to knead at my neck, tending to the stiffness setting in from the two-hour-long car drive.

Jess looks over, glancing back and forth between the twenty or so motorcycles riding in uniformed precision ahead of us, and then at me.

“You ok, Jules? You need me to pull over or something?”

No one ever tells you that the moment you disclose the fact that you are pregnant to someone... they start to treat you like a wounded kitten.

“Jess. I'm fine. I was fine the last two times you asked, I'm fine now, and I can guarantee you I'll be fine the next time you ask.” I look to her, exasperated. “Don't make me regret telling you.”

Jess’ eyes roll back toward the windshield. “Alright. Sheesh. It's just been a really hard day. It can take a toll on anyone, especially one who's....”

“Pregnant?” I offer.

Jess takes in the description of my situation and ponders it thoughtfully for a moment, the crease lines on her forehead giving her away. “I was going to say knocked up, but sure.”

We break out in a fit of laughter.

It feels good to laugh. The pleasant involuntary spasming of my stomach muscles releasing some of the tension that's been storing up for the last two weeks. I can always count on Jess to bring a certain level of humor to things. We were very different, but she seemed to offer a little bit of ying to my yang. Where I took things too seriously at times, Jess was there to offer just a little bit of silliness to ground me.

“In all honesty though... are you OK, Jules?”

I sigh deep, slowly exhaling my answer to her. “I'll be fine. I'm just not ready to talk about it.”

She releases one hand from the steering wheel and covers mine with it, squeezing reassuringly. “OK. But, I'm here when you're ready.”

I smile at her, thanking her silently for her understanding.

It was true... I wasn't ready to talk to her about it yet. I had talked endlessly about the whole thing to Jay, Vince, Pop, and even the cops. I wasn't ready to throw another person in the mix. Especially another person I’d have to lie to.

******

The hardest thing about talking to someone about what happened is remembering which version to tell them. Jay and the guys in the club, my dad included... we all know the truth. Everyone else, though, they are fed what they think is the “official” story:

My friend Em came to Chisolm to visit me. We switched cars for the afternoon so that I could bring hers into the MC's repair shop to look at her “check engine light”. While she was out and about driving my car around town, she was carjacked, taken to an abandoned factory and killed. Rumors had gotten back to my mother, who called the police and gave a tip that I was also taken in the carjacking and was being held against my will at Hyde Park. The police found nothing there, but they were able to track me down at the clubhouse the next day where I was mourning my friend.

The truth, though? That was a lot uglier and a hell of a lot more painful to tell. Em had actually come into town to surprise T.J. She had gotten lost on some of the back roads and managed to find herself in Slayers territory. Seeing a bunch of bikers hanging around, she assumed they would know where to find T.J. She couldn't have been more wrong. They kidnapped her, dumped her car in a parking lot where Jay, my then boyfriend (or ‘ol man) and now fiancee, was able to find it a few days later, took her to the old run down plastic factory and called me to make a trade. When I got there, Shade crossed me and his own MC, the Slayers, by having one of his assholes shoot Emily in front of me. I was taken to an old farmhouse and kept, while Shade worked out some sort of deal with Jay and the club that I am certain he had no intention of carrying out.

Jay and some of the boy's ran an undercover attempt to rescue me, but it got all fucked up when someone jumped the gun and killed Shade, setting off a massive gun fight.

So far, the two crimes... Emily and Shades murder are unrelated in the news, and as far as we could tell, in the eyes of the cops. But, they've been popping up asking more and more questions lately. Jay wasted no time in getting me lawyered up, so that's been buffering some of the harassment, but Detective Flattery is like a fly on shit. He doesn't seem to stay away for long.

Not only was I never going tell Jess the truth about what happened to Emily, how it was her unlucky association with me that was the main factor in her murder, but, I wasn't too keen on spewing the cover story to her either. I'd never lied to Jess... I didn't want to start now. Better to just hold off and avoid telling her anything as long as I could.

Letting her in on the pregnancy secret offered a great way to shift her attentions. Not only that, but it gave me another person to be able to confide in about it. I don't want too many people knowing yet, with it being so early on and everything. Besides Jay, his mom Jean, her ol’ man and Jay’s dad Vince, Charlie and now Jess.. no one else knows yet.

I won't be able to keep it a secret long, though. My man was in his rightful place, riding his bike in the front of the club with his dad, his president. Here I am, his woman, his ol' lady.... his fiancee, riding in a car following behind them instead of straddling him, and holding on where I should be.

Jay set down the law a little while back, in keeping with the club's rules. I can't ride with him until after the baby is born, not that I'd want to and take the risk, but there is something about someone else telling you, you can't do something. It just kinda pisses you off, even if you know it's for your own good.

No one would be asking any questions today, though. No red flags being raised about why I was riding in a cage with Jess instead of with Jay. We were on our way back from Emily's funeral service. The club had come to pay their respect to the young woman who had lost her life when she got tangled up in theirs. I had lost one of my best friends. Truthfully, even though I wouldn't be expected to leave Jess alone for her drive, I just don't even feel like riding right now.

******

There isn't much left of the drive home, rolling into town just as the sun was setting. The long line of bikers driving in the direction of the clubhouse, the loud roaring of their collective engines offering an intense but all-to-familiar rumble to these small-town streets. Once word had gotten out that there had been a carjacking and murder, the town started to get a bit spooked. The Kingsmen had always offered a sense of protection and renegade justice around here. The boys have since stepped up daily patrols of the neighborhoods, increasing their presence to try to quell the fears. Hopefully it was helping. One of the reasons the club has been so successful through the years is that they had the support of the town. I've heard enough chatter around the clubhouse that they were doubling their efforts to make sure to retain that support.

The group of bikes veers over to the side of Main Street, with several of them breaking rank and backtracking toward us. I twitch my pointer finger visibly for Jessica to follow suit and pull over behind them.

The roar of a Harley is very specific, each one having it’s own... kind of like a fingerprint. You spend enough time around them, you can pick up on the subtleties. My pulse begins to quicken as I hear Jay's bike close in on us.

I exit the car and meet him just as he stops, pulling off his helmet and beginning his dismount.

“Problem, officer?” I tease.

His eyes roam over me, standing in front of him, and settle on my chest. My ever-growing chest, that is. I swear, my boobs have grown a damn cup size in the last few weeks. No one could claim I was ever small chested, but damn, I was practically busting out of my tops now.

Jay licks his lips ever so noticeably as he reaches me, closing the distance between. He wraps one arm around me and pulls me in, using his other to trace his fingertip over the entrance to my ever present cleavage, the shadowed line above my heart.

“Yeah... I think this qualifies as indecent exposure.” He smirks.

My eyes widen, and instinctively shoot down to assess the severity of my situation. Ah... it wasn't too bad. Strictly PG 13, all good. He was toying with me. Jerk.

That's OK. I can play dirty, too.

“Hmm... well.” I look up into his eyes, soaking them in. I exhale slowly, dramatically. “I'll just have to start covering them up now, won't I?” I smile wickedly to him.

Some men are ass men, some legs... but Jay? He was all about the boobs. He was happier than a kid in a damn candy store just to get lost in my tits. They're like crack to him. If he could snort them, he would.

He grumbles deep while grabbing my ass, intensely enough to make me perk up.

“Not a chance in hell. Those babies are mine now. You keep 'em where I can see 'em.”

He pushes his lips onto mine before his last word is barely out, not giving me anytime to think of a retort before I am lost in him. Jay isn't necessarily one for exhibitionism, but we are about to come damn close. We haven't been able to spend as much time with each other these last few days with everything that's been going on. His need is strong. I can feel it, sense it in the urgency behind his kiss, the demanding strength his tongue is exerting on mine, compelling it to consent.

I don't need any persuasion. My fists grab at the leather of his cut on either side and pull him in closer, deeper. It is instinctive by now, responding to each other the way our bodies once had a long time ago. Some things you never forget, it’s just him and me when we get into a frenzy like this.

The cat calls and high-pitched whistling around us break through our little moment. The slight tapping of Jess's horn seals the deal and saves us from tearing each other's clothes off right here on Main Street.

“Save something for the wedding night, Jay!” one of the brothers shouts out.

Jay snickers and holds his middle finger out behind him, never moving his gaze from mine.

“You and Jess head home, I'll pick up some food on my way back from the clubhouse later.”

I huff. I was hoping he would spend the rest of the day at home, tonight. I swallow hard and roll my eyes harder. My disappointment purposely evident. “Whatever...”

He snatches my chin in his thumb and forefinger and guides me back to look at him, firmly. “Don't pout, baby,” he commands. “It makes me want to smack your ass.”

My eyebrow arches up. The thought of his hand on my ass right now is tempting. “So what's stopping you, big boy?”

He laughs. “Something tells me you'd get off on it more than I would right now, Lil's.” He sweeps his lips across mine once more, restraining them from a full-on-assault. “Don't worry, baby... I'm gonna give it to you so fucking good, tonight,” he whispers.

“Tease.”

I let go of his leather and peel myself off him, turn and walk back to the open car door. “Bring home lasagna from Little Gino's if you even want me to consider it,” I shout back.

The sound of his bike is the silent command, giving instruction to the hoard of others to restart their engines as well.

“Let's go back to the house. Jay will bring dinner home later,” I fill Jess in.

We slip back out into traffic with two of the bikes following us as we head east, while the rest of the group continues on toward the clubhouse.

Loud breathing turns my attention to Jess. We lock eyes and I raise my eyebrows in query.

“I need a bad boy,” she proclaims.

Our laughter resumes.

“Not sure I can help you with that right now. But, I can provide the next best thing,” I boast.

She eyes me quizzically.

“Junk food and chick flicks,” I clarify.

******

Jess and I change into some comfy clothes and set ourselves up in the den with everything a girl could need. Margaritas (extra strong for her, virgin for me), tortilla chips with salsa, and an endless supply of blu-rays. Thankfully, we agree an a comedy. This day has been depressing enough, we both need to lift our spirits.

Bridesmaids seems fitting, considering I had asked Jess to be one of mine... so I pop the movie in and we kick back. The surround sound starts to play, the lights dim as we prepare for a veg. fest.

Jess had arrived early yesterday. I didn't protest at all when she volunteered to come stay with me after what went down. With Christine, my long standing “frenemy” busy with her own wedding plans and Sunny, my brother’s ol’ lady, overwhelmed with her beauty salon, I didn't want to burden anyone. But, I really need a friend about now... and, although Jess and I were not as close as Emily and I were, we both needed a shoulder to lean on.

She also wanted to meet Jay in person. Once I told her that I wasn’t coming back to school next year, and was instead was transferring home to finish up my senior year, not to mention getting married and having a baby, I could understand why she wanted to check him out, vet him herself. It was a lot of change in a short period of time. She and Bobby, our mutual friend (or “gusband” as we like to call him) would be alone to finish their last year of school together.

When she suggested that she come and hang out for a week or so, I jumped at the chance. So far, it’s been going really great. She loves Jay, and seems to be genuinely happy for me. The only downside so far, is that she seems to be the hot new item on the menu, according to the brothers.

I am used to having the guys stopping over, dropping things off for Jay or just simply popping in on their way through this part of town, but ever since Jess had gotten here, it's been a nut house. I made Jay promise me that he would shut that shit down, get his boys under control.

Jess is a real good girl. She has big heart, a giant trust fund, and a five year plan. As far as I know, bikers don't play a part in it. I want to make sure that she doesn't get sucked into the curb appeal. It's not a life that I think Jess would be able handle, let alone be happy with. After what happened to Em, I'm not too eager to have any more of my friends turn groupie.

It isn't only their best interest I was looking out for, either. T.J.has been real messed up ever since Em died. He's been taking off on his own, just going on long rides. I've tried to get him to talk about it, but Jay says it's just better to let him be alone for a while. With his being one of Jay's men, I thought it was wise to just back off.

I top off Jess's margarita and dimmed the lights on my way back from the kitchen, enjoying a normal night for once. No cops, no strategizing with the club or lawyers. Just two girlfriends hanging out, watching a movie and having a few laughs.

******

THEN

“I don't know about this, Christine...”

She was fidgeting with her hair trying to get it to submit to the will of her twirling fingers.

“Lil's, it's not a big deal. It's just Evan and some friends. You don't even have to talk to them if you don't want to. We're just gonna watch a movie and have a few beers.”

Bullshit! This is a set up and she damn well knows it. She has only been dating Evan for a few weeks. I know they've already had sex and Christine was up his ass all the goddamn time now. Not literally... eww. I shake my head at the gross random thought.

“Nope. You knew they were coming over and you didn't tell me because you knew I wouldn't come then.”

Christine had a pretty steady pattern of omitting information if it suited her needs. I was still pissed at the shit she pulled a while back at her birthday party. I hadn't planned on ending the evening locked in the bathroom of a frat house, only to have my boyfriend have to come and save my drunken ass.

“Lil's... please?” she whined. “All of Evan's friends are single, and they are giving him so much shit about spending time with me. I figure if we do the group thing, they'll back off a little. Sarah and Kim aren't giving me a hard time about this.”

I wanted to punch her then. “Yeah? There's a big difference between them and me, Christine. I'm not single. After your birthday, I really have no fucking wiggle room with this. I swore to Jay I wouldn't put myself in stupid situations. You really think these guys came over here to just watch a movie? Give me a break.”

Christine was losing patience, not to mention valuable time with Evan. “Fine. Go. Your loss, Lil's. I'll make sure I don't invite you the next time we all hang out.”

We had been friends since Miss Tammy's preschool. But, sometimes... I really just wanted to choke the bitch. I grabbed my stuff and hightailed it out of there. It was still kind of early, barely eleven o'clock. I'd bet Jay was still at the clubhouse, so I made the decision to head over there and surprise him. He was pissed earlier when I told him I was going to hang out with Christine. He's was still really mad at her, and wasn't too shy to tell me exactly what he thought of her. Me, being the loyal friend I am, chose to stick up for her ass. But after the situation she put me in again tonight, I'd have to rethink our friendship. It always seemed to put me in a bad spot.

The parking lot was full of bikes as usual, for a Saturday night. I was pretty sure there were no runs going on, so all of the boys are home. The heavy rock music was pouring out of the windows, pretty sure it was Guns ‘N Roses, and I could already tell it was gonna be wild inside.

The prospect guarding the door tensed up as I approached. Shit. I forgot his name. “Hey... you.” I greet him.

“Um... Lil's, hey. You, ah... you supposed to be here tonight? I mean, Jay know your coming?”

Actually, no, on both counts. But, he didn't need to know that.

“Sure... I told him I'd swing by.” I lied. Sue me.

He looked unsure. “I... I'll just go tell Jay you’re here. I'll be right back...”

What the fuck? Uh... no. “Get out of my way,” I order.

His eyes grow large. “You... you can't go in there.”

“Oh really? And why the fuck not?”

He seemed to be struggling with whether or not to tell me.

I whipped out my cell phone, “Fine.. I'll just call him and tell him I'm standing out here like an idiot because some prospect won't let me in.”

“It's a stripper party,” He blurted out.

I stop dialing. Fuck! Here I am, practically ruining a friendship, a fucked up friendship at that, but a friendship nonetheless to stay loyal to Jay and he was in there with a bunch of strippers? Hell to the no. I threw my phone back into my bag and stormed off toward my car.

“Lil's... do you need him? I can go get him...” the nervous prospect called after me.

I barely contain my rage. “Don't do me any favors! You can go tell him to fuck himself. That's what you can do for me.”

I opened my car door and threw my bag in, hard enough for the contents to spill out onto the passenger seat. Great. Now I can't find my fucking keys. My beat up old Honda has more things that don't work than do. The overhead light stopped working months ago, so I fumble around in the dark patting the carpeted floor for the metal objects. After a few minutes of cursing, I struck gold and grabbed the tips of the set, pulling the keychain out from under the seat.

When I sat up and lined the keys up with the ignition, I saw Jay and the prospect walking out of the clubhouse. The kid pointed to my car, and Jay patted him on the back, nodding, and taking a step in my direction.

I raced with my keys, fumbling with them until I got a match and started the engine with a loud rev. This baby may only be four cylinders but she's got some pep and I needed her to get me the hell out of there, right now.

Jay whistled loudly to get my attention from across the parking lot as he mades his way toward me. I shifted the car into gear and headed toward the gate.

“LIL'S!” I heard as I raced past him.

Thank God I have better sense than to act on my rage, because I really wanted to run him over back there. I sped through town, thankful not to have hit any red lights along the way. I wasn’t sure I could stop then anyway, the anger burning me up.

I did't get far before I heard the bike. He was closing in on me. I glanced into the rearview mirror and saw the round headlight of his Harley growing in size. I pressed down on the gas pleading with the Honda to move out of its own way. I had given this man everything. I gave him my virginity barely two months ago and this is how he repays me? By fucking around? I had been around long enough to know that if the prospect was keeping me from seeing Jay, then there was a damned good reason why. Not just a stripper party.

Jay gained on me and pulled up beside the driver’s window. The road was narrow, so he had no choice but to cut into the oncoming lane.

I rolled down my window. “Leave me alone, you bastard!”

He flailed his arm wildly, “Pull the fuck over! NOW!”

I did't listen. He won't be telling me what to do, anymore. We've left town and were heading into the country. The streetlights became more and more sporadic and scarce as the area became more desolate.

“I said... pull the goddamned car over now, Lil's. I swear!”

I saw the headlights approaching from the distance, racing toward us. It was pretty abandoned out here this time of night. The only traffic usually from the occasional truck passing through on their way to the interstate. Jay sped up and merged into my lane far ahead of me. As the semi truck passed us, Jay slammed on his brakes, forcing me to react and pull off the road into the field of the old sod farm. I rolled to a stop and breathed deeply, collecting myself. The adrenaline was surging, causing my heartbeat to pound in my head.

Jay pulled up beside me, jumping off his bike before the engine had a chance to completely shut down and threw open my door.

“Get the fuck out, now!”

Yeah. I don't think so. He reached across me and grabbed the keys from the ignition before taking a few steps toward the darkness, hurling them into the night.

I stormed out of the car, after him. “You did not just do that!”

He swung his body around and stomped my way, stopping mere millimeters in front of me. “Yeah! I fucking did! You're gonna kill yourself, or someone else, driving like that! What the FUCK has gotten into you?!”

“Oh, please! Don't act all concerned for my safety, you asshole! Just go back to your party and leave me alone.”

“Like hell I will! You ever run away from me like that again, Lil's... I swear to god... I'll...” There wasn't much light besides that of my car headlights but I could see plain as day how pissed he was. His skin had a red flush to it, and the vein on the side of his neck was throbbing violently.

“You'll what? You'll go fuck a stripper?”

He paused in his rage. “I can guarantee you some of those strippers are gonna get fucked tonight, but not by me. What the hell are you talking about?”

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my car to get my phone and call a cab. “Oh please! Then why didn't the prospect let me in, huh? It's nothing I haven't seen before! Unless there was something else he didn't want me to see.”

I leaned across the seat to begin the search for my phone.

“Get over here.” His voice didn't have quite the same edge as before but was still something I should know better than to mess with.

I was able to find my phone and backed myself out of the car, searching for reception.

“Don't make me throw your phone, too.”

I clutched my phone tight to my chest. He was just crazy enough to do it, too.

“Fine.” I defiantly walk to him. “What?”

“First... I did not fuck a stripper. Second... I wasn't going to fuck a stripper later, either. And last... that kid's a new prospect that's already in shit for letting Dewey's ol' lady in earlier. Well, let's just say Barbara's not as understanding as you are. She didn't exactly appreciate some bimbo in a G-string dancing on her man. The prospect got reamed out and no way was he gonna let it happen again. Even for you. Can you blame him?”

I bit my lip, contemplating his words. Knowing Barbara as well as I did, I did't doubt that she freaked the fuck out if a stripper was even ten feet from Dewey. Shit! It could be true.

Jay stepped forward and I took a step back. We paused. He took another step and so did I, until I was pressed up against the front fender of the car. The warmth from the engine was starting to fade, but the heat is still slightly present against the back of my thighs. My skirt isn't overly short but offered little to no protection to the skin beneath it.

“Give me the phone Lil's.”

“Why? So you can throw it?” I counter. The anger now gone, replaced by a sense of foolishness.

“No.” He took the phone from me and tossed it back into the car through the open window. “Because you're going to need both hands to hold on.”

He scooped me up and throws my legs around him, before crushing my mouth with his. “I swear to God, you make me so angry sometimes, woman.” He barely managed to get his words out.

I ripped off the beanie hat he was wearing and fisted my hands into his hair, pulling the strands through my fingers. “How angry?” I taunted him.

He pushed up against the car and lowered my ass onto the cooling hood. “More angry than you want, trust me.”

He leaned back and lifted one of my legs with one hand while using his other to reach under my skirt and hooked his fingers under my panties to pull them off, snaking them down and guiding my leg out through the opening. The flimsy pink cotton dangled down the other leg, catching on my ankle.

He grabbed behind my neck and held me still as he stole another deep kiss, controlling me with his sensual dominance.

“Ummm... Jay.” I moaned into his ear as he kissed and suckled on my neck, twirling his tongue in strong circles above my pulse.

He placed his hand on my breast and kneaded, unforgiving, at my flesh, before using it to press me down, guiding me to lie back on the metal beneath. “Hmmm?”

Jay freed his hand from my chest and began to work on his belt. His eyes staring down at me, fixing me in place.

“I think I may have overreacted.”

He smiled, in his own smart ass way. The way he does when he knows something that you don't. “No shit.”

“Ahhh!” I cried out forcefully as Jay slammed himself into me, hard enough for the car to shake, rocking beneath us.

He grabbed hold around my knees and pulled me closer to him, closer to the edge so that my ass was practically dangling off. He pushed deep again, forcing my hands to grab hold of the metal corner beneath me to brace myself. He pulled and straightened each leg one at a time while placing my ankles to rest over his shoulders, pausing with the last one and kissing the skin on the inside of my lower leg before nipping down on it, causing me to bite down on my own lip and groan in ecstasy.

Jay was a freaking pro in the sack but when he got rough.. oh my God. The fucking earth moved. I swear it.

“You.” He thrusted hard. “Will.” Thrust. “NEVER.” Thrust. “Ever.” Thrust, thrust. I closed my eyes as the world stands still. It's just him, right now, always... it's just him.

“Look at me.” Thrust.

My attention turned back to him, watching him exert himself over me.

Thrust. “Never.” Thrust. “Do.” Thrust. “That.” Thrust, thrust. “Again.” Thrust, thrust and....

“God!!” I called out, as my legs stiffened and clamped around his shoulders.

He clapped my thighs and pulled me into him again, calming my squirming. He wasn’t finished with me yet, though. The thin layer of sweat beading on my legs proved difficult for Jay to maintain his grip, so he held on tighter.

He was pushing himself, pulling me, pounding us together until his point was made, clarified and solidified, before releasing himself and collapsing down to me.

I didn't know how much time had passed. I may have drifted asleep for a moment... but a semi truck passed by waking me, and I nudge Jay.

“I guess you're giving me a ride home, baby.”

He chuckled as he raised his pants and buttoned himself in. “Baby, I just gave you a ride.”

I rolled my eyes as I sat up, straightening my skirt. Jay pulled his keys from his bike and played with them. “I've got a spare.”

I held my hand out for the key, but he snapped it back teasingly. “You're gonna drive slow and stay behind me the whole way, right?”

I plastered a sarcastic smile on my face and nodded, over enthusiastically. “Yes, sir.”

He dropped the key into my waiting palm. “You're gonna be the death of me, Lil's.”

I jumped to my feet and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Not for another seventy years or so.”

CHAPTER TWO

NOW

JAY

“Enjoy, and come back soon!” the elderly bronze-skinned man behind the counter called out as I leave the restaurant.

My eyes adjust as I exit the overly-fluorescent lighting of Little Gino's. “See ya next week, Freddy boy,” I call out to the best damn Italian chef in three counties.

It wasn't very late yet, and the dark was just settling in. Truthfully, I thought I'd be getting home much later tonight. Church had been short, with no real developments being made.

We were still coming up empty handed on trying to locate the Slayer that helped Lil's the night the shit hit the fan at the farmhouse. We've been searching high and low for this Chris, or “Pretty Boy”, but so far.. no luck. It's like he dropped off the fucking radar.

Lil's swears up and down that she didn't pull the trigger and shoot Shade that night. Our moles in the local police agencies have let us know enough to piece together that they found a gun matching the one that fired the fatal shot into Shade's chest. So far, they haven't been able to place the fingerprints found on it, but they've been circling like hawks. Our lawyers have been able to keep them at bay slightly, but they never seemed to have an end the questions they had for Lil's.

If they get a hold of her prints, I know it will be a match. Fuck. If only one of us had had enough sense to take the gun before hightailing it out of there. If Lil's was telling the truth, and someone else got to Shade before she did, then I'm sure their prints will be on it, too.

We need to find that Pretty Boy, the slayer that was in the farm house that night, and get his prints. If we find the real killer first, this will end up a hell of a lot better than if the cops settle on Lil's.

Vicky's also on the shortlist of suspects. So far, we know she never used the bus ticket I gave her. We've got a few guys trying to track that bitch down, too. I know we don't have much time, with the amount of press the farmhouse slaughter's been getting. Chisolm's always been a quiet town. You throw two big-ticket news stories in the mix and the town goes on high alert. People want answers.

A pretty little innocent college girl gets carjacked and murdered, and a biker thug gets ambushed and fatally shot... people don't forget that shit that easily. Especially when their daughters are driving these same streets.

We've been working double-time trying to reassure the town that we can keep them safe, but we've been hearing that there's tons of heat from the higher ups to make a quick arrest and give the people their culprit, behind bars and far away from them.

I've been able to keep most of this from Lil's, but it's only a matter of time before she catches full wind of it. I'm paying good money to get first word of a warrant before they throw one our way.

Having Jess come in for a few days has been a godsend; it's been a great distraction for Lil's. I hadn't had a chance to get to meet Emily, although I'd be eternally indebted to her. I had once doubted Lil's choice in friends as I was never a fan of Christine, but so far I was liking Jess.

Knowing Lil's as I long as I have, it's a bit awkward meeting people who know my baby as “Julia.” It was a whole different little life they knew each other through, one that I wasn't a part of. Some of Lils' other friends had turned out for Emily's funeral, too. Bobby was interesting. He may not be the type of person we usually hang around, but as long as he keeps Lil's smiling, he's golden in my book. And just as long as he doesn't start hitting on any of my guys. He was drooling like a damn dog when we all pulled up on our bikes this morning.

Carrying small things while riding isn't usually a tough thing to do. When those things just so happened to come right out of a fucking four hundred degree oven, it was a whole other story. My dick is on fire, and not in the way I like. I have less than a minute left before I'm pulling in my driveway, but it's gonna be a long sixty seconds....

******

I can hear the laughter before I even reach the front door. I smile to myself... that sound is music to my ears right now. It's been a hard day, a long day. Too much death and heartache and bad news... I'm glad they're able to find a little bit of joy in the middle of it.

“Lil's! Baby, I'm gonna leave this stuff in the kitchen!” I call out into the den, where the blue-hued light is dancing on the walls. The sound pauses and footsteps approach as I set out the containers.

Slender arms grab around me, as I lay out some napkins.

“Smells fantastic! What'd you get?” She squeezes as she eyes the setup on the countertop.

I turn around and place my hands on her hips, setting back to rest against the counters edge.

“A little bit of everything. You two eat up, I'm gonna hit the weights and then a shower.”

My fingers teasingly play with the hem of her tank top, coaxing the cotton aside to graze the softness beneath. Lil's shudders, and I smile triumphantly. Just knowing I can make her body react with a touch makes my burnt dick twitch.

Jess throws me a thumbs up and starts to pile her plate. Lil's scrunches her nose and asks, “You're not eating, baby?”

I bend in and kiss the nape off her neck, before pushing myself off the counter. “Nah... I had a couple slices with Freddy while waiting for the food. I'm good.”

Lil's shrugs her shoulders, and then shifts her gaze over to the lasagna. “Mmm, 'kay... I'll save you some.”

I laugh while letting her pass, but can't help but take a healthy smack at her ass while she does it. Who is she kidding? She's gonna devour every bite and lick the plate clean. Lil's has no self control when it comes to Freddy's lasagna.

******

The noise vibrates through the floor and I'm able to hear the surround sound as I pound my way through a few sets of bench presses. The girls are finishing their movie. She must have seen this movie a dozen times already. She made me watch it with her one night and she practically knew it word for word.

I move on to the free weights and feel my skin heating up, so I pull my shirt off and throw it on a nearby shelf. With each successive round of reps, I zone further out and get lost in the exertion and release of each movement until my veins swell and plump through my skin.

The noise abruptly ends upstairs and footsteps make their way across the floorboards before fading. I drop the weight in my hands to the floor between my feet and stretch my neck and shoulders. The slight creaking of the steps turns my attention to the staircase, and I grab a towel to pat at the fevered dampness from my skin.

“Hey, babygirl...”

She answers me with her eyes, running up and down the length of me. They cloud over and she nods approvingly. “Very nice.”

I cock my head to the side. “I aim to please.”

Lil's licks her plump lips over themselves, while sauntering her way to me. She runs the sharp edge of her finger nail over my skin, tracing the indented seam between each muscle. My baby knows every inch of my body, just as I know hers... but every once in a while she just takes it all in as if seeing it for the first time.

“Umm hmm...” She replaces her finger with her warm tongue, trailing and kissing her way across my chest, teasing from nipple to nipple. Her teeth scrape the heightened peaks and her eyes dart up to mine while her hands continue their exploration further and further down until she settles on the full weight of my stiffened cock.

She expertly pushes at the elastic of my gym shorts until they hang off my hips, springing her favorite of all my muscles to life.

“How 'bout a workout?”

As if she even needed to ask.

I grab at her quickly and press her softness into me, working my hands in the thin material of her tank top, pulling to remove it from between us. Her tits crash into me, spilling their flesh out as she struggles to get closer. These babies have really fuckin' blossomed lately. I steal myself from her lips and bend down to latch on to one of her perfect little nubs, sucking hard and deep as I massage the other.

“Yes...” she moans, and grabs at my hair, my shoulders, edging me on.

My hand dives deep into her panties. Yup. She's damn ready.

“Christ, Lil's...”

My girl's always been game when I am, but the last week or so her drive has been off the fuckin' charts! A weaker man may not have the stamina to keep up, but fuck... I'm always up for a challenge.

I growl low in my throat. I'll take everything this woman has to give and beg for more.

“Tell me what you want baby...” I lick her lips, awaiting her command.

She pauses, choosing her words. Breathing deep, she cups my cheeks in her small hands, fingers gracefully stroking over my stubbled skin. “Slow... I want to stretch out and prolong every single touch so I can imagine it will never end.”

I replace my lips with my thumb, guiding it over her luscious bottom lip. I can feel it quivering under the pad of my finger. Sometimes I can swear that she has a direct link to the inner depths of me. It's as if she knows the sacrifice I was preparing to make for her, for our little family, if need be.

“I'm sorry... I don't know why I'm getting so emotional lately.” She tries to hide herself as I catch the lone tear drop rolling down her cheek with a kiss.

I smooth out her skin with my thumb, erasing all signs of the moisture.

“Don't ever be sorry, Lil's.” I straighten, forcing her downcast eyes up. “Look at me, baby.”

Her eyes blink away any lingering wetness, and she nods.

Lil's brought home a book last week about what to expect, and all that. She's been reading it every night before falling asleep and giving me the abridged version. I know she's just hormonal and super sensitive, but all that aside, if I can do something to help... I’m damn well gonna try.

Gently, I sweep her hair back over her shoulders and rest my palms behind her neck, massaging any tenseness. I massage my way down below her shoulder blades, her lower back. She swallows hard, gooseflesh breaking out in patches across her creamy skin. My hands roam past her hips, under her thighs and scoop her up, bouncing her to settle in my arms with her legs clinging around my lower hips.

She arches her head, exposing her stretched neck for me. I nuzzle in, and slip my tongue into the hollowed space below her ear... the spot that I know is her undoing. I can feel her pulse quicken and her chest rises sharply. I carry us over to the weight bench, swaying us in time with the rhythm of our tongues.

I turn and sit on the bench, bringing Lil's down to straddle me She leans forward on her knees and pushes down on her little pajama shorts. My palms attempt to help her, groping her ass and feeling the softness and plush padding of her curves as her cotton bottoms become nothing more than a pile on the floor.

Slowly guiding her to settle down my length, she hisses while sliding herself to my base until I fill her fully. We both pause, taking in the moment. It wasn't that long ago when we were lost to each other. She is back in my arms, where she belongs... where she'll always belong.

Lil's rocks herself into me, as we devour each other. Slow... just how she wants it. Her fingers speak to me, covering me and conveying their messages of her want and need. Her lips have swollen from the endless kiss we share. There is a time and place for words. Lil's is usually full of colorful ones, too, with her trucker mouth. But here, now... we don't need them. My lips, her fingers, our bodies... tell each other more than simple words ever could.

We continue to talk to each other in this carnal way until we set each other off, panting and pulling at each other.

******

Later that night, after we make our way upstairs into bed, and she lazily holds on to me drifting in and out of sleep... I ask her.

“Baby... did you think about it, make your mind up yet?” I know she knows what “it” is. I've been asking her for the past two days.

She stirs. “I have. I don't know what the rush is, but... yeah. Let's do it.”

I know the room is dark but I can feel the energy from her smile, and I sure as hell know she can feel mine.

“Yeah? You sure?” I almost don't want to ask, don't want to give her a chance to change her mind.

In the darkness I can see her looking up at me, feel her nodding head on my shoulder. “I'm sure. It's not gonna be easy pulling off a wedding, even a small one, in two weeks.”

Little does she know it's gonna be much easier than she thinks. When you've got a family, both blood and club, as big as we do, you could do it in a fucking day if you want to. Especially when it's imperative it gets done soon in case the club's plan doesn't work and I need to switch to my back up plan.

“We'll do it, Lil's. It'll be beautiful and everything you want. You run the show. On one condition...”

I feel her breath catch, and she eyes me wearily. “Wha-what condition?”

I grin. “You call the shots for the wedding day... but me, I call them for the wedding night.”

She laughs as I roll over, blanketing her naked curves with my body. I hitch her leg up around me. “I should start planning now, but, babygirl... not gonna be slow this time.”

******

LIL'S

I look like a fucking marshmallow. Big, white, poofy, and fluffy. This is soo not me. But, mmmm. Marshmallows. Must remember to stop and get a bag of marshmallows on the way home.

“Lil's... it can't be that bad. Come out and let us see.”

See... even Sunny knows it must be bad, as she knocks on my dressing room door.

I take a deep breath and swing myself around, trying to squeeze myself through the door and out onto the platform to be put on full display. As if it wasn't bad enough looking in one mirror, now I get to be surrounded by four full length ones, not to mention my girls, as I parade around looking like a damn cream puff.

The sales ladies collectively sigh and clutch their chests while admiring the obnoxious display of lace and tulle before them. I try to smile, soften the blow, as Sunny, Jess and Charlie take it all in. Even Charlie, who's just starting to get to know me, knows that this dress... this pile of fondant I'm wearing... is just not me.

“Alright. Enough of this. Let's call it a day.” Ma stands up and twirls me around to start undoing the laces of the torturous corset top. “You've been squeezed into way too many of these things today, baby girl.”

The old sales ladies watch Jean as if she were drowning a puppy, their shocked faces are priceless. We manage to shimmy back into the dressing room and get me out of the dress, underskirts and satin slip. The sudden loss of all that extra weight causes me to wobble, holding out my hand to the wall to steady myself as I gulp in deep breaths of air into lungs that can finally expand to full size again.

“Thanks, Ma.”

Jean nods, hanging up the dress and underthings with great care, but utter distaste. “Don't mention it, darlin’. We've put you through enough of this crap today.”

Comfortable once again in my long sundress, we head into the waiting room and join the girls. At least this visit wasn't a total waste. They were all fitted for their bridesmaids dresses and Jean even picked out a slinky little number for her own dress, too. I walk up to the sales desk, just as Charlie is taking back her credit card from the woman.

“That can't be...” she tells the uptight, prim and proper cashier. “Are you sure you have the right person?”

I step up next to my new friend. “What's wrong?”

Charlie looks dumbfounded. “She.. she says someone already paid for my dress?”

Is that all? I laugh and guide Charlie toward the rest of the girls. “Jay was going to pay for it as well as Jess's. But, Clink beat him to it.”

She looks at me, shocked. “Why would he do that?”

I squeeze her hand gently, reassuringly. “You've got a lot to learn, sweetheart. Don't worry. It gets easier once you learn the basics.”

Sunny and Jess are in deep conversation, with Sunny making wild hand gestures and touching Jess's hair. Great... here we go. A still confused Charlie and I step up and interrupt the two other girls.

“Jules! Sunny is going to make me a blonde!” Wow! Wasn't expecting that one.

Charlie and I quickly glance at each other. Obviously both unsure how to respond to the drastic makeover plans. Sunny is busy studying Jess's hair and feeling the texture, rubbing it between her fingers and mumbling to herself.

“Ah... really? Wow.... wow.” I try to hide my shock. I fail miserably.

She starts to panic. “You don't think I should?”

I shake my head frantically, back pedaling.

“No... that's not what I meant.”

I pat her hand. Sunny barely bats an eye, still engrossed in Jess's mane.

“Sunny is a hair genius. It's... it's gonna be great. So, when is this gonna happen?”

Sunny chimes in. “We're gonna head over to the shop now. I've got some time this afternoon. She's gonna look fuckin' hot! I'll be finished to do your hair before we go out tonight.”

Tonight is my impromptu bachelorette party. Nothing too big, just my main girls. At least, I hope it's nothing too big. I really didn't have much to do with it. These girls took care of everything themselves. They even got Christine to agree to go. She's not very happy that I'm actually getting married before she is. I understood when she declined my invitation to be one of my bridesmaids, with how busy she is in the last stages of her own wedding plans. But still, it hurt.

What hurt worse, though, was when she asked me to reconsider being a bridesmaid in her own wedding. I had already bought the dress, ordered the shoes and picked the perfect gift to give her. I was really looking forward to it. We've grown our separate ways over the years, but we had a lot of history. I thought that counted for something. Apparently not. Jess doesn’t want a known biker sitting at her bridal table as my date.

Regardless... I'm glad she's gonna tag along tonight. Maybe we can patch things up a bit.

“Great. So, we'll meet up with you guys at my house later.”

I give them each a quick peck on the cheek before Sunny wisps Jess out the door into the parking lot.

Once the door fully shuts behind them, it's free reign.

“This is either going to turn out really good... or really bad.” I nod at Charlie's observation.

Jean pops up behind us, finished with the last details of her dress alterations. “You girls ready to go?”

Charlie smiles awkwardly at Jean. They've only met a handful of times so far, but Charlie always seems uneasy around Ma. Like she's waiting for her to turn around and bite her or something.

I smile, “I am soo ready to get out of here. But... still no dress. I'm seriously running out of time. Unless I want to get married in jeans and a T shirt, we'd best hit up another store.”

I slide my sunglasses on.

“Don't you worry, I've got just the thing.” Ma puts her arms around both Charlie and myself and pushes us lovingly out the door.

We pile into Jean's Escalade. Charlie looks unsure at first, as she had driven with Sunny on the way in, but she eventually follows suit and hops in the back seat. We buckle up and I blast the AC. It is damn hot today. Lately, I'm either freezing cold or scorching hot, with no happy middle ground.

Country music croons from the hidden speakers and we roll out into traffic.

“We'll stop at my house before we go back to the club. I have something for you,” Jean explains, as we start to head in the opposite direction than what I was expecting.

Vince and Jean's house is fairly large, especially for two people. I spent a lot of time here when I was younger, with Jean babysitting Tiny and me. When Jay and I first got together, before he bought his house, we were here a lot. The spacious entryway opens into other rooms but Charlie hangs back as Jean and I disappear into one of them.

“Charlie girl...” Jean calls out when we realize we are one man down. “Get your little ass in here. There's an open door policy for family.”

Charlie finally joins us in the back of the house as we near Jean's bedroom, looking white as a ghost.

“What's wrong, Charlie?” I hold out to her and help her to sit on the edge of the settee in the corner of the room. Her eyes dart around the room, taking in the surroundings.

She clears her throat. “Uh... nothing... nothing’s wrong,” she says unconvincingly. “I... I'm just a little flushed from the heat outside is all.”

Jean and I share a glance. She nods to both of us and disappears, on a mission. I turn back to Charlie, and rest my hand on her knee. It's ice cold. Funny... for someone overheating, her skin is frigid. And her lip is trembling a little.

“I know what's really bothering you,” I let out. Her eyes widen and she stares at me. “The whole 'family' thing.”

I swear she stops breathing. Man, this girl must have some deep-seated commitment issues. “Relax... it's not like he asked you to be his ol' lady or anything, yet.”

Her eyes furrow, confused.

“It's just...” I bite my cheek. It's not as easy as you'd think it would be to explain our ways to someone new. “See... as long as your with Clink... you're family. I mean you're obviously more than a piece of ass to him. So... Jean... and everybody else thinks of you as part of us.”

As if on cue, Jean strides in with a tray of iced tea and some glasses. She pours Charlie a glass and hands it to her. Charlie downs the whole thing while Jean and I watch dumbfounded.

“Better?” Jean asks as she refills the iced tea for Charlie.

Charlie nods and attempts a smile as Ma moves on to my glass before filling her own.

The cold liquid instantly cools my burning insides, and before I can help, it I belch and hiccup at the same time.

In unison, Jean and Charlie break out in laughter at my expense. Whatever. Anything to lighten the mood. I mean, I'm pregnant. I have very little control over more bodily functions than I'd care to admit to, at this stage.

Jean sets her glass down. “Now.” She claps her hands together and rubs furiously. “The main event.”

She practically hops into her massive walk-in closet and we hear crashing and crumpling noises. Less than a minute later she emerges carrying a monstrous cardboard box so delicately, you'd swear it was the royal tea service. Charlie and I stand and meet Jean as she places the box on the foot of the bed.

“This...” Ma begins to explain as she opens the package and pushes aside the papered wrapping inside. She grabs hold of something within, and pulls it free, shaking it out. “This... is your wedding dress.”

I gasp. It's so beautiful... that it's actually breathtaking. The simplicity of the lines and sheerness to the fabric are so simple that they are intricately ornate at the same time.

I look up at Jean, beaming from behind the full-length dress.

“Are you sure? I couldn't. I couldn't possibly...”

Jean rolls her eyes and shakes the playful frustration away before she thrusts the dress into my arms and pushes me in the direction of the bathroom.

“You can and you will. You are the closest thing to a daughter I could ever ask for. My son is going to make you his wife and you are going to wear this dress while he does it. No arguments.”

She shuts the door behind me as I enter the huge bathroom, leaving me no choice but to delicately hang the dress on the wall hook and strip.

I hear muffled voices through the door as Jean and Charlie make small talk. Once the dress is settled on my shoulders and I'm not in danger of flashing anyone, I step out into the bedroom.

The girls have their backs turned discussing a framed picture of Jay as a child when I awkwardly clear my throat.

They end their conversation mid-sentence and turn to stare at me. I... I really like the way the dress looks in the mirror. No, I fucking love the way the dress looks. But, neither one of them are saying anything. Maybe it's just hopeless and I have no clue what I'm doing.

“You. Look. Stunning.” Charlie exclaims, finally blinking and walking over to me.

Ma hasn't moved, hasn't spoken. She's just standing there watching me. But then I see the tears start to fall, and I come dangerously close to falling apart... in the best, most perfect way possible.

“I... I need a zip.” I turn, exposing my bare back, and hiding my strained facial muscles. Very few people cry pretty in this world. If you are one of them, count yourself lucky. The rest of us... well, we have to struggle with it.

I wipe the happy tears on the back of my hand before Charlie discreetly hands me a tissue, and I feel the bodice close itself around me snuggly while the zipper is secured.

Ma guides me over to the full-length mirror and we stare at the reflection, her hands resting protectively on my shoulders. “Perfect fit. I don't think we even need to do any alterations.”

I exhale deeply. What a relief. It's been a week since Jay made the announcement to the club that we were moving up the wedding and I was seriously running out of time to find a dress. Not only did I finally find a dress... but I found the dress. Everything was falling into place.

******

We drop the dress off at the cleaners to be freshened up, and make our way back to the clubhouse. Jean heads inside to escape the heat, leaving us behind. I grab my purse and close the car door, stepping in the direction of the clubhouse entrance, but notice Charlie hesitating from my side-view.

“You coming?”

She chews on her lower lip, mulling over the choice. “I... I think I'm just gonna head home and catch a nap before tonight.”

I eye her carefully. I've gotten to know Charlie pretty well over the last few weeks since first meeting her. She's spent more than handful of nights here at the club with Clink and she set me up with a really great OBGYN over at the hospital. We may not be besties yet, but I know her well enough to know something was off.

“Ok. You want me to go tell Clink?” I volunteer.

She shakes her head thoughtfully while rummaging around in her purse. “No, you don't have to do that. I'll see him whenever.”

She fiddles with her keys and leans forward to kiss my cheek. “I'll meet you at your house at nine.”

I nod.

“And, Lil's?”

I perk up.

“You looked gorgeous in your dress.”

She heads off toward her car, and I back into the shade from the overhang. Nice girl. But just a bit strange.

CHAPTER THREE

CLINK

The chick is crazy. I know she's not from around here, and doesn't know the lifestyle, but I think she's plain old crazy some times.

According to Lil's, she's having some sort of freakout session. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear she must be on the rag. But, I can safely say that's not possible. I made that girl scream my name so fucking loud last night, the prospects even blushed when they saw her the next day.

Not only did she leave without saying a word to me after dress shopping with the girls, then I come to find a folded check wedged under my helmet when I get to my bike.

A perfectly neat check in the amount of $238.67 from a Miss Charlotte Anderson made out to cash. I tear up the check into a dozen pieces and throw it into the wind. I stomp back into the clubhouse and step just far enough into it to spot Jay sitting at the bar, Lil's spread out in his lap making googly eyes at him. These two need to knock this shit off.

“Hey, brother!” Every man in leather turns to me. My bad. Should have been more specific. “Jay! That detail that's running later tonight?”

He nods.

“Yeah... I changed my mind. I want in on it.”

I slam the door behind me, throw my shades on and take off on my bike, ready to take out my anger on the asphalt. My mind races as I head over to Pippin's, a local bar on the other side of town.

This broad has some damn nerve. I've taken my time, been open-minded. I know she doesn't know how things run around here, but there's only so much I can fuckin' take. I spend my money wherever, whenever, and on whoever I goddamned well please.

If she needs a crash course in Kingsmen 101, it's time to stop pussyfooting around and just start the schooling already. Tonight is lesson #1.

In the meantime, I have work to do. We've gotten word that the fat fuck we found unconscious in the upstairs bathroom of the farmhouse the night we rescued Lil's has been released on bail. We've been coming up empty handed on almost all fronts and time was nearly running out. Our informants have gotten word that they're getting ready to arrest Lil's soon on suspicion. If we don't get our shit together before then, this is going to have a pretty shitty ending.

Pippin's is a tiny little pub, mainly for the blue collar crowd. Great fucking burgers, though. Word on the street is that the fat guy is renting one of the efficiency rooms upstairs. I think I'll go pay him a visit.

******

“Medium well, darlin. And throw some bacon on that bad boy, will ya?”

The waitress nods and jots down my order. “Ah... you've got a little... blood on your shirt.”

I look down. Well looky here. Guess I do. “Nasty little cut before. I'll take a Guinness while I wait for my burger. Bathroom?” I hold out my finger pointing around. I forgot where the damn john is in this place.

The forty-something woman points to the far right hand corner and forces a smile before hightailing it to the kitchen.

The bathroom is empty and I manage to soap up some paper towels and scrub at the spot on my shirt. Doesn't really matter if it comes out or not. I'll buy another. I move the scrubbing over to my hands. The tricky thing about blood is, once it's scrubbed off, it still leaves a stain behind for a while. That fucker upstairs is gonna be scrubbing himself for weeks.

Back at my table, I nurse the beer bottle. I reach for my phone and check in with Jay.

ME: TOOK CARE OF THE PROBLEM

NO WORD ON PRETTY BOY

GOT A POSSIBLE LOCATION

FOR THE POLE QUEEN

FORWARDED IT TO LEO

The big guy wasn't exactly happy to see me, once he saw the patches on my cut. Even though he wasn't wearing his own anymore. The Slayers have pretty much disbanded or gone underground after what's happened with Shade. But once a Slayer, always a Slayer. He could've saved me a hell of a lot of trouble, not to mention some sore knuckles and a ruined shirt if he just cooperated in the first place.

In the end I got what I needed and left him needing some stitches. We knew he wasn't the shooter, unless he somehow managed to shoot the asshole, race back upstairs, knock himself out cold and then lock himself in a room from the inside. But... there was a good chance he knew where his fellow Slayer, the Pretty Boy, was.

Turns out, he didn't. But, he had a good idea where Vicky was. Somewhere in Texas. Leo, will use whatever superhuman cyberspace bullshit he does to try to get an exact location. My burger finally arrives and I take a huge bite, a bit of the grease dribbling down my chin. The waitress brings me some extra napkins and I give her a wink.

I watch her as she struts away. Nice ass for a forty-year-old. Speaking of nice ass... I wipe the grease from my fingers and pick up my phone once again.

ME: YOU SEEMED TO HAVE

MISPLACED A CHECK

I polish off my beer and most of the burger, and settled the bill. The sun is setting as my phone buzzes and I reach my bike.

SUGAR TITS: JUST PAYING YOU BACK

I DON'T NEED A SUGAR DADDY

The thought of her calling me daddy right now is doing things to my dick. It's been less than a day since I've been inside that girl and I was aching to do it again.

ME: GOOD TO KNOW

I RIPPED UP THE CHECK

AND KEEP CALLING ME DADDY...

I LIKE IT

I stash my phone back in my pocket and take off toward my place. I haven't been there much lately, either spending the night with Charlie at the clubhouse or crashing at her place. The lights are on when I pull up the drive, the automatic timers obviously working well.

I quickly shower and shave, taking a little extra time to groom the southern region. Sugar likes it trimmed neat, and, man, I fucking love when she appreciates the goods. So if that means I keep it short, then it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make for her kind of appreciation. It usually ends with me marveling at her lack of gag reflex.

A little cologne, some hair gel, a hot new pair of jeans, and, a muscle shirt top off the look. It takes me a few minutes to track down the first aid kit, but I manage to find it and lather on the antibiotic ointment to my shredded knuckles.

I grab a handful of condoms from the top drawer, shoving them in my pocket and throw my cut on, while heading out the door.

******

CHARLIE

Damn him. I throw my phone back into my bag and curse him under my breath. I keep trying to distance myself from him, push him away. But, somehow it always lands me in his bed. I only need him to stay close to the club, I tell myself. To do that, I shouldn't need to spend every damned night with him. Yet... that's where I find myself again and again. In his bed, or in my bed with him. He infuriates me more than I thought possible.

The more of a bitch I am to him, the more he seems to like it. I need to rethink my strategy. But... I don't need to think about that tonight. Tonight is a girl's night. No Clink, no spying, no telling cover stories. Just the girls, some booze, a couple of strippers, some good music and a chance to dance. That neanderthal and his archaic, warped sense of chivalry can wait till tomorrow. I'm not even going to bother writing him a new check. I'll go to the bank, withdraw the cash and shove it so far up his....

The doorbell rings just as I'm imagining what I'd like to do to that hot-ass bad boy.

“Can you get that, Charlie?” Lil's call out from her bedroom where Sunny's busy dolling her up.

I make my way through the gaggle of half-naked girls buzzing around tramping themselves up. The doorbell rings again. Come on! I take my aggression out on the innocent shoe in front of me and kick a stiletto out of the way.

I swing the door open, and plaster the best “hostess with the mostest” grin on.

Hell to the no! Two bikers stand on the porch, leaning against the railings. And who do you think is front and center. Yup. Mr. “Do as I say and like it”. I slam the door shut.

I barely make it ten steps before I hear the door open and close behind me. I bite my lip... hard. Strong arms pull me back into a rock hard chest.

“Good to see you too, Sugar.” He growls into my ear, his wandering hands greeting me in their own right.

I elbow him and push myself away.

“Why are you here?” I demand.

He closes in on me, trapping me in a corner. One of the girls I've just met tonight, Christine, I think her name is... rolls her eyes in disgust and walks right by us holding her hands up as if we're contagious. Bitch.

“I'm on duty tonight, Sugar,” he drawls out.

I squint my eyes. “Then you should probably get out of here and get to work.”

He laughs. It's not necessarily a friendly laugh. “Baby... I'm already working.”

“I thought they were sending prospects?” We both turn to the bubbly blonde holding a red Solo cup behind us.

Clink walks over and kisses Sunny on the cheek. “Sorry little lady... the boys are busy tonight. It could've been worse.”

She pops her hip out, and throws him attitude. “Oh yeah? How's that?”

He smirks. “It could have been Tiny.”

Sunny rolls her eyes and leans to look past him, to me. “Good luck!” She takes another long sip of her drink and stalks off.

“You wanna clue me in here?” I bring his attention back to me.

He trails his eyes ridiculously slow up my body. “Guard duty, sweetheart. Blue's here to watch over the girls.”

His eyes settle on my chest and his hand moves over his denim covered dick, adjusting himself. Ugh.. I think I just vomited a little. His whole manly-man thing just smacks you in the face sometimes.

I point my finger to him. “And you? Why are you here?” As if I don't already know the answer.

He slits his eyes and continues to visually undress me. “I'm here to watch over you, Sugar.”

******

The music is loud, almost too loud. The preppy-looking guy grinding his way over to me is relentless. He's already offered to buy me a drink, have a dance, and take my phone number. All of which are promptly followed by my: “I don't drink,” “Maybe later,” and, “I lost my phone.”

What do I have to do to drive the point home? Lil's and Sunny are chatting it up with some of the other MC girls in the VIP area. Christine is flirting with the bartender, and I'm trying to enjoy the music and dance. But this fucker just will not let up. I turn to move, getting out of dodge, and see Clink watching me, grinning from his perch by the front door. Ugh!

This fucker wants a show? Well, then I'm gonna give him a show. I reverse course and head right into the arms of my stalker. He looks pleasantly shocked and immediately pulls me close pressing us together while slithering around. He reeks of bottom-shelf liquor, and his movements become more and more sloppy.

His lanky arms clumsily reach around attempting to feel me up. I close my eyes and try to imagine stronger arms, arms that can really hold onto a woman, arms I can get lost in. I try to imagine his slender frame growing in size until it dwarfs me, powering over me, intimidating me in the sexiest most surreal way possible. I reach my hands up blindly and slide them into his short buzz cut, but fool myself into feeling the thick silky strands that beg to be held onto, and tugged, enticing him further.

I veer myself around using my hips to steer our movements. He instantly falls in line, letting me take the lead, and I find myself purposely skipping the beat, baiting him to seize the chance and take control. He just bides his time, rocking in place... lost, until I guide him further.

I give up and grab his hands, pulling them up to my chest and place them where I need to be touched. I imagine his fragile hands to be the big, strong, dominating hands that I want. The ones that know how to touch and tease me, claiming me for his own.

I need the scent radiating from this standin to be the musky sweet, smoke-filled, earthy scent that is only his. But it's not. I can try to trick myself, convince myself that his body is the one I want but it's not.

“Agh!!” I scream under my breath in failed frustration and storm off the dance floor, abandoning the fool. I walk, determined, past the man I yearn for and out the main entrance.

In the humid night air, I walk further... trying to shake off the realization that's setting upon me. “Fuck!” I call out, projecting my hostile disappointment in my own weakness. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Whoa!” I hear his voice. I turn to face the culprit himself. “You want to stop ranting like a damn lunatic in the middle of the street?”

I am so mad at this point, I'm shaking. “YOU!” I accuse him. “This is all your fault!”

He holds his hands up in innocence, ignoring the passers by and continues toward me. I stomp my foot on the ground like a petulant child and pull at my hair in blind madness.

He finally reaches and stands over me, waiting for my tantrum to end. I reach the bottom, the last bit of anger and let it out. He takes it as my clenched fists land pathetically on his solid chest. I drop my head in exhaustion, my shoulders heaving irregularly.

“What are you doing to me?” I ask him. “This isn't me! I'm not that girl who turns into a damn pushover for some man. What the hell is happening to me?”

I look up at him, my eyes pleading, begging for some explanation for why my senses have abandoned me. His eyes are smoldering, letting me have my moment before he's decided it's enough. He pins my wrists behind me, fixing them to my lower back with one hand while twisting my hair with his other, holding my head and my attention hostage.

“You're finally accepting it. Finally accepting that you want me just as much as I want you.” He kisses my top lip, preventing me from arguing a moot point.

He kisses my bottom lip, and stifles my whimper. I nod, welcoming my fate, knowing that the longer I fight it, the longer I will be without him.

“Yes... just, just do it already,” I plead.

His eyebrow cocks. He yanks my hair just within the threshold of pleasure.

“Do this?” He throws his lips down to mine and answers my plea with his powerful kiss. It quenches the thirst, just a taste of what I need.

“Or this?” His demanding lips intensify on mine and his hands grab hold of my ass lifting me an inch off the ground.

“Yes... yes. All of it.” I succumb.

******

CLINK

Sugar can barely keep up with my pace as I push through the crowd, finally reaching the back of the building, kicking open the swing door to the ladies' john.

“Get the fuck out!” I direct the three or so bimbos applying makeup over at the counter.

Sugar stands stunned behind me, wanting to talk... opening and closing her mouth.

I hold my hand out to her, silencing her, while the chicks gather their chick shit and mumble to each other while scurrying past.

I follow them and shut the door sealing us in, and click the knob locked. Charlie looks on cautiously. I take the needed steps toward her, jingling as I unfasten my belt, watching her like a hawk.

This place isn't one of my usual hangouts. It's a bit too... upscale for my tastes. If I wanna go grab a beer and hear some music, I don't need to pay forty bucks for a cover charge and feel like I'm in the goddamned ritz. The bathroom alone is nicer than most people's houses.

The marble lounge is spacious and filled with velvet lounge chairs and round poofy things. The imported floor looks expensive, immaculate, expensive... and hard. Perfect.

“Get on your knees, Sugar.”

Her eyes grow round, large. I nod.

She hesitates, eyeing around the empty room. I'm patient. My dick may be rock solid but it's nothing a little delayed gratification won't take care of.

She finally accepts the inevitable, and lowers herself painstakingly slow to rest her bare knees on the fancy stone. I watch as her chest begins to redden, staring down into glorious abyss between her tits. She doesn't normally dress like a slut, but man... when I saw her wrapped up in this tight little number I nearly blew my load right there, like a high school freshman caught in the girls’ locker room.

“That's it, sugar lips... show me how sweet those babies feel wrapped around my cock” I encourage her.

The door behind us rattles, the lock serving its purpose and denying the poor fucker on the opposite side entrance. She clearly ponders her options, swallowing hard while glancing at the metal handle as it moves slightly. There's nothing stopping her from getting up, unlocking the door, telling me to fuck off... leaving me standing with my cock out and my jeans around my ankles.

She opens her mouth, and I wait for a sound, her words. But they don't come. Instead, she brings her widened mouth to me and takes in the head until it disappears in the wet warmth. She hollows her cheeks, and I grab hold of her hair.

I'm tempted to close my eyes and get lost in the sublime, as my girl's beautiful mouth fucks me... but the mirrors plastered all over the walls are too much temptation. What's hotter than watching Charlie give in and bow down before me? Watching it five times over, each giving a different angle, a better view.

******

I help Sugar stand, the fuck-me heels she's wearing prove too unsteady for her to manage on her own. Her swollen lips glisten, testament to their recent work out. I take my thumb, and gently wipe away any evidence of myself from them. She extends her tongue and slides it over and around it, licking it clean.

Fuck me! My girl is such a fucking minx, and she knows it. I recover my thumb and use it to aid in securing my belt.

“Next time... it's you on your knees.” She coyly informs me.

I laugh, pulling her close. “Glad we understand one another, Sugar.”

She bites my shoulder hard. “Don't... call me Sugar.”

CHAPTER FOUR

JAY

It's like he's a ghost. Like he never existed at all. Clink wasn't able to get anything from the fat guy. Leo's been trolling around the internet for days now, looking for this “Pretty Boy.” So far, from what we're able to tell... he didn't exist before eight months ago. No school records, service records, arrest records. Then, all of the sudden he has a driver's license a criminal history and an address. Conveniently, right around the time he popped up on the Slayers’ radar.

It looks like he only prospected for about five months. That shit's unheard of around here. No Kingsman has ever worn that patch without paying his dues as a prospect for a good long while, and being fully vetted. It's also one of the reasons our MC requires each new prospect to be sponsored.

Shade must have been pretty damn desperate to increase the number of members, that he just let any damn wannabe in. The more we look into this “Pretty Boy” kid, the worse things look. I know he's a big piece of finding out what really happened that night at the farmhouse. I'll feel a hell of a lot better when we get our hands on him.

My eyes fuckin' hurt from looking at damn computer screens with Leo all night. It takes a while to adjust to the dim lighting as I step out of the back office and into the bar area. A few hangarounds are lurking about... word's been spread that we're gonna take on a few more prospects soon. It's like fucking ants crawling out of the woodwork at times like this.

We don't open our doors very often, and there's always tons of interest... but we're damn selective when we shop for new brothers. Odds are, none of these asshats buzzing around will be invited back.

T.J. is behind the bar tonight. He hasn't been around much lately... but we've been cutting him some slack. The poor bastard's been torn up raw by that Emily girl. I know nothing's gonna make up for that, but he's about to get patched in soon. Hopefully that will help take his mind off it for a while.

He's got to know we're planning on giving him his patches soon, with all the wannabes coming around looking to fill the soon to be vacancies. What he doesn't know, is that we're gonna mix the patch-in party with my bachelor party tomorrow night. Should make for one fucking hell of a good time.

Lil's and her girls are making a night of it tonight. I know my baby girl won't be able to fully let loose in her condition, with not being able to drink, but I've been getting periodic text updates from Blue that she is having a damn good time... even sober. Blue wasn't my first choice for guard duty tonight, but the dumbass begged and pleaded. The draw of half naked, tramped up, sloppy drunk pussy was too much for him to pass up. No way would I have let him go if Clink hadn't stepped up and volunteered to chaperone the little shit.

Originally, Clink wasn't even on the short list for the assignment. The girls may not be able to have a night out completely unsupervised, given their associations with the MC and all the risk that came with it, but we weren't complete dicks. The least I could do is make sure I didn't send any of their ol' men to go babysitting them.

With Clink's chick being one of the bridesmaids, I hesitated to even contemplate sending him to watch over them. But, this girl has been getting under his skin. No way in hell am I getting in between him and his piece of ass. They can sort through that shit themselves. I've got enough to worry about with my own little lady.

“Bottom's up, boss.” T.J. lifts his shot glass quickly and throws back the amber liquid with one gulp, while I tilt my beer bottle to him before savoring the ice cold thickness of it.

That boy's been hitting the booze just a bit too hard. I'll let him drink himself numb until after the patch party. Then it'll be a dose of five-finger rehab if need be, to knock some sense into him. I've been in this kid's shoes before... looking for answers in the bottom of a bottle.

******

THEN

The empty shot glasses lined the width of the bar, and I slammed the newest of them down hard on the wood. The deep thud rattled the empty ones, confusing my already blurred vision. My eyelids were heavy, weighing down on me.

I used my clammy palms to push away from the wooden bar top, wobbling as I struggled to catch my balance. Satisfied that I wouldn’t fall over, I managed to move my feet somewhat effectively in the general direction of the back crash rooms. At this point it didn't really matter which one I ended up in. A bed is a bed.

Barely making it half way down the length of the bar, a trampy looking blonde girl who'd been eyeing me all night, manages to slip under my arm and help carry some of my weight.

“Don't you worry, baby. I'll help you.”

Not sure if it's the quarter gallon or so of whiskey settling in me, or the words she was spewing that were making me nauseous right now. I most definitely was not this chick’s baby. Hell, I was no one's baby anymore. Hadn't been for a while. But, fuck it... a hole's a hole, right? Besides, leaning on her medium-sized frame was about the only thing keeping me from hitting the floor face first.

She managed to steer us through the back hallway and into my room where I promptly threw myself down on the unmade bed, groaning as I rolled over to my side, hoping it would help with the sick feelings.

I felt the mattress dip and creak as the chick started to crawl up my legs, making her way to my fly. I threw my arm over my head and closed my eyes. I didn't need to watch... they were all the same. They all looked the same, they all felt the same. At least it will help put me to sleep.

The over-enthusiastic slurping and gagging sounds the bitch was making was keeping me up. Her tongue is rough, but she damn well knows what she's doing. Probably been doing it much longer than any girl would ever admit to.

Now, being piss drunk can have different effects on a guy. Most can't get hard for shit when they're all liquored up. Ever since Lil's left me, though... I can't get hard any other way.

Just when I think I'm good and ready to end this and then be free to roll over and pass out, I hear a faint unzipping sound. My eyes fly open to the dark ceiling above, on high alert, despite the overwhelming sluggishness of the booze trying to creep in.

The girl released her suction on me and trailed her tongue up the shaft before leaving me wet and in the cold room air. She fumbled around and I could sense her legs pulling themselves free from her bottoms.

Dripping herself up my leg she tried to straddle me. Fuck no. My reflexes sobered up enough to push her head back down.

“Finish the job, sweet thing.” I gave her no time to respond before stuffing my engorged cock back into her warm mouth and use my own fist to help finish the job.

Her whimpering disappointment echoed in the hollow her cheeks were making while polishing me off. Just when I'm about to come, I twist one hand in her hair and gently pull her away while I rub myself out with the other.

I could hear the faint splashing as it makes contact with the girl's skin. My abs convulse, as I spill myself out over her, no doubt soaking her top. Once the last bit was released, I crashed back into the soft mattress and exhaled slowly.

“Close the door on your way out, will ya' darlin'? I need to sleep this off.”

I heard the heated huffing and mumbling from under her breath, before she did as she was told.

The door closed behind her with her bouncy little ass disappearing through it, as I slipped into a semi sleep-induced pre-hangover coma.

******

I felt light, weightless. That didn't seem right. The alcohol should have been weighing me down. My cell vibrated from within my pocket. I reached to answer it with much more coordination and dexterity than a drunk person should be able to use.

I didn't bother to read the number on the screen. It was damn late, whoever was calling must have known what they're doing, waking me up this time of night.

“Yeah?” My voice is clear.

Silence.

“You need something?” I'm getting irritated now.

More silence. Well, almost. There was breathing. Shallow breaths, muffled through the phone. I rolled over and scanned the room for the block numbers on the cable box. 3:48 in the fucking morning.

And then I heard it.

The tiniest of little squeaks as if the person had tried to speak and then thought better of it. I bolt up. It's her.

“Lil's? Is that you?”

I heard a breath catch on the far end of the phone call. It was her, I knew it. I hadn't seen or spoken to her in almost five months... since she took off on me. But sure as I am of anything in this fucking life, I was sure it was her.

I close my eyes tight. “Why Lil's? Why'd you do it? Why'd you leave?”

Just as sure as I knew it was her, I somehow knew I wouldn't get an answer. The clicking sound was almost immediate, the ringtone not long after. I threw the phone as hard as I could against the wall opposite the bed and crashed back down to the blankets.

I had kept my word, kept my promise to Butch. I'd stayed away. Well, almost. About a month after she took off, I got word of her address. I rode my bike up there and got as close as the street nearest hers. I couldn't do it. I couldn't see her.

Part of me wanted nothing more than to show up at her door and demand answers. The lump in my throat and acid in my stomach gave me reason to pause. What was I gonna learn, huh? Would any reason be good enough?

I had barely hung on, these past weeks. Maybe not knowing was better? Not having the confirmation of my worst fears might be better than the alternative. Maybe the slight glimmer of hope that she might come back to me one day was worth it. Sometimes hope is all that gets you through. You snuff that out and there's nothing left.

My thoughts start to randomly shuffle and splinter off in tangents as sleep takes over.

******

The roaring of bikes past my open window, welcomed me to the morning... as well as the wicked headache pounding my fucking skull. I was still dressed from the night before... dick still loose from my pants where the sweet butt left it. I rubbed my eyes. The phone ringing in my pocket woke me further.

I absentmindedly reach for it, my aim shaky and careless. Confusion crept into my hung over senses. It was Tiny. We had plans to hit up the shooting range today. I check the time. 9:08. Fuck...

I flipped open the phone, my cracked, raspy voice answered it. “I'll be there in twenty.”

I dropped the phone against my shoulder, the weight of it proving too heavy for my whisky-weakened muscles.

It wasn't real.

I inhale deeply. It was never fucking real. The dreams were happening less and less lately, but the emptiness they left behind never changed. I swallowed hard and braced for the wave of nausea that I knew would wash over me as I climbed out of bed and made my way to the john.

I knew I wouldn’t be getting there in twenty minutes. Tiny knew it, too. But he'd wait for me, and wouldn't mention a goddamned word when I finally got there. My brothers, my club... they were all I had left. The empty feeling slowly faded as I reassured myself that he'll be there, the club will be there... waiting for me.

******

NOW

I close the heavy front door quietly behind me. It's almost eleven in the morning, but all the curtains are still drawn and the quiet is all too telling. I crashed at the clubhouse last night, giving the girls their privacy. Lil's had texted me when they finally got in from her bachelorette party about three a.m.

I knew they were on their way back to the house, I knew everything that happened last night. One of the perks of being the VP and having my men watch over the girls, is having eyes in the back of my head. I see it all. I know it all. In fact, I know some shit from last night that I'd rather not, but am damn glad I do.

Stripper heels, Solo cups, and purses are strewn all over the house. It looks like they had themselves a little after party. I smile as I see the dick shaped streamers and balloons hanging from the doorways.

There's a pile of brown curls and sequins poking out from under a blanket on one couch, while the other has Sunny and her barely-covered tits on full display, snoring away. Damn, how does Tiny listen to that all night?

Wrapping paper and shredded ribbons litter the floor. A giant pink dildo is lying on the coffee table with little bottles of lotion and shit surrounding it. There's a little black lacy number half out of a box, not far from it. My dick starts to tingle. It's like my fucking birthday and Christmas in one. Lots of presents that I can't wait to use on my girl.

A throat clears behind me, and I turn to see Blue, in nothing but his boxer's behind me. He nods to me and I follow him back into hallway, away from the sleeping girls. I raise my eyebrow at him in question.

“Having a good time, stud?” I ask sarcastically.

He uncrosses his arms and points to the closed bathroom door, down a few feet from us.

I nod in the direction of the guest bedroom that he obviously came from.

“Get your shit. You're gonna need to take some of these girls home when they wake up. Did you take the pictures?”

A wicked smile plays out across his lips. Good.

Blue disappears, and I lean back, resting against the wall. I cross one ankle over the other and wait. I hear the running water shut off, and know it can't be long. I probably shouldn't take as much satisfaction in this, as I am.... but, fuck it. I'm a good judge of character. I had this chick pegged from day one.

The door opens inward and a very sloppy looking Christine shuffles out. Embarrassment flashes briefly before red hot anger replaces it. She knows she's been caught. Life is good.

She arrogantly raises her chin and walks right past me, to join Blue in the spare room. Raised voices escape into the house followed by a stumbling Blue, trying to hold up has pants. His leather is thrown at him from Christine's direction. He struggles to catch it and hold up his drawers at the same time.

I can't help but laugh at the show. I may not have orchestrated it, but hell, things couldn't have worked out better. Sometimes fate just steps in and takes care of things for you. Things are gonna get tough soon. My girl needs to know who's real and who's not. She needs to know who she can lean on.

I try to hide my disdain, but it isn't happening. Christine rushes past me in a frenzy, throwing a tantrum before slamming the front door behind her. The front windows rattle and the deep echo vibrates through the house, causing the girls to stir.

Blue looks at me and shrugs his shoulders. “She actually wasn't half bad.”

******

“Why is it pink?”

I tear my eyes from the screen on my phone, to watch Lil's as she cleans up the mess from the bachelorette party. The garbage bag in her hands filling with the endless amount of tissue and ribbon that were cluttering the house. She's holding up the huge funny looking Dildo that I had seen when I came home this morning.

She cocks her head to the side and eyes me playfully. “Maybe I should just throw it out?”

I throw my phone down on the upholstered seat next to me and swiftly make my way to her, sweeping her into my arms, so that her bare toes are dangling above the hard wood.

“I've got better ideas for it,” I suggest as I lead us down the hall. She giggles like a schoolgirl and makes a halfhearted attempt to escape.

The house is quiet, with all of the girls having left except Jess, who was showering. Charlie had lingered behind a little to help Lil's clean up what was left of the giant penis-shaped cake left out in the kitchen, before Clink suggested they go grab some breakfast at the Silver Spoon diner.

The jury is still out in my mind when it comes to Charlie. Other than catching her snooping around the clubhouse a little while back, I had no real reason to be suspicious of her.... It's just... there's something I can't figure out about her. Something that tells me to be on guard.

I actually feel the tiniest bit guilty about being so wary of her. She's been a good friend to Lil's, even though she's a newcomer. A hell of a lot better friend than that bitch, Christine.

It was barely two days ago when Lil's called me crying because Christine had uninvited her to be one of her own bridesmaids. I know Lil's was really looking forward to that shit... poofy dress and all. That's OK, though. I pegged Christine from day one. I know what type of chick she is. Thanks to Blue and his endless raging hard-on towards certifiable bitches, now I have a little insurance policy.

It's a win-win situation, as far as I'm concerned. My boy got a little piece of ass, and Christine is kept in check.

We reach the bedroom and Lil's drops the pink plastic toy on the floor where it bounces. Now both hands are free to work into my hair and add to the intensity our bodies are giving one another. Her mouth is a mixture of icy mint that tingles my tongue and scorching heat.

Just as I take my mouth from hers, barely long enough to pull her shirt above her head, the doorbell rings.

Fuck. I'd yell out for Jess to get it, considering we're a little busy here, but I can still hear the shower water running.

“Don't get started without me. I'll be right back.” I kiss the tip of her nose and leave her behind the closed bedroom door.

I check the side window before opening the door to see Tiny standing on my front porch.

“Sup, bro'?” We grasp hands and pull into a half hug, slamming each other's leather-covered back. I look past him to the red mustang pulled into the driveway and nod my head in curiosity. It was a shitty day. Gonna start raining any minute. The big guy was such a wimp about riding his bike in the rain. Says he doesn't wanna get his hair wet.

“Pussy!” I call him out, as I move aside to let him in. “Babe! It's your brother!” I alert Lil’s.

We make our way into the kitchen before Lil's manages to join us, looking disappointed.

“I didn't hear your bike roll up...” she observes, as Tiny helps himself to a cup of coffee.

I lean back across the counter top, crossing my arms. My eyebrows raise and I feel like having a little fun at the poor bastard's expense.

“Your brother's not a fan of riding in the rain... He'd rather drive around town in that cherry bomb of a chick car.”

Tiny throws a little shaded glare my way, while sipping on his coffee. “Sunny picked out the car dickwad. She gave me the best head for days after I brought it home. It was worth every fucking penny.”

My baby girl starts to make gagging sounds. “TMI. You hungry?”

That's a rhetorical question for Tiny. The guy can always eat.

“Yeah, why not? It's lunchtime, right?”

Lil's grabs a small plate from the cupboard and sets it down with a clattering noise on the counter top. She reaches for the pastry box tucked away and quickly opens it while withdrawing one of the biggest knives from the butcher block. With a loud slam, she wields the knife down harshly into the box, causing both Tiny and myself to jump a little.

Tossing the knife into the sink, she turns and drops the plate down in front of Tiny with the ceramic vibrating from the abuse. She pats her brother's shoulder, hard.

“Enjoy. Next time... call first.”

We watch her leave before noticing the plate she prepared for him. It's a large piece of the frosty cake from the night before. The dick cake. She just served Tiny the entire “head” of it.

CHAPTER FIVE

LIL’S

I love my brother. But he can be such a damn cock block sometimes. I blame him for my foul mood tonight.

“Jess! You ready? I'm starving!”

Not only did I not “get” any this morning, but now he's whisked Jay away to their little bachelor party. I'm not stupid. Jay might be telling me it's a patch-in party, but I know damn well it's a bachelor party. I don't expect to see either one of them, especially sober, for the next twenty-four hours.

Whatever. I'll have to send Jay a pic of my pretty new pink toy later to rub it in a little. If I have to be all wound up for the next day or so, then so does he.

“All right, all right!” Jess grabs her keys and we file out, locking the front door behind us. We take Jess's car... it's a little more comfortable than mine. I’m more concerned with the environment and gas mileage by driving a hybrid. With a rich daddy like Jessica's... she's more into the luxurious side of things.

We have the same taste in food more or less, so dinner is an easy decision to make. We stop over at one of my favorite Mexican restaurants. With Jay not being a huge fan of this place, I haven't been able to come here since I've been back in town. Not much has changed, though. The salsa is still the best I've ever had, and the little Mariachi band playing in the corner looks to be the same three men as I remember. The only thing that would make this night perfect, is if I could enjoy one of those golden frozen margaritas that Jess is sipping on across from me.

I'm just about to put a chip piled high with fresh salsa into my mouth when I hear a chair pull up behind me.

“Miss Kaegan?”

I pause the chip's ascent into my mouth, turning to acknowledge the suited middle-aged man now sitting next to me.

“Who's asking?” That probably sounded a lot bitchier than I meant.

I notice there are three other similar-looking suited men standing nearby. The gentleman who addressed me reaches into his front pocket and carefully withdraws a slim looking leather wallet, which he skillfully opens with one hand while completing his introduction.

******

They really knew what they were doing when they designed these rooms. The harsh bright light is cruel to your eyes. They leave you sitting in here for long stretches of time but you can't even close your eyelids and try to rest. The weird blue-toned light seems to penetrate right through. The cold, hard, unforgiving metal of the chair makes it difficult to find any position that could even resemble comfortable.

But that's what they want, I guess... they want to wear you down. I've told the same story now to three of these men, each coming in with their neat little manila envelope, introducing themselves as “Special Agent So-and-So.” They all explain how they just need to verify the information in my statement. Then they proceed with the questions, twisting my words and the facts to see if I'll correct them... or if they have succeeded in tripping me up.

So far, so good. I've managed to stay calm, keep the “facts” straight and keep my wits about me. I haven't been able to make a phone call yet, which I'm pretty sure is illegal. Jess was taken along with me, but we were separated almost immediately. Thank God I didn't tell Jessica anything about what really happened. She's a sweet girl, but no way would she be able to keep it to herself under these conditions.

I tap my fingernails against the hard metal surface of the table watching the ringed ripples play on the coffee’s surface from the vibrations. Just as I'm lowering my fingertips again, the door opens yet again, with yet another suit, another manila folder.

Wait. Holy fuck.

“Hi, Lil's.”

Wow. He's actually going to try to play this off like it's no big deal.

“Hi yourself, Pretty Boy.”

He smiles warmly and pulls up the chair across from me. “Sorry about all this. I really am. I've been doing my best to get them to hold off on bringing you in.”

“Well, thank God for small favors,” I say, trying to mask any signs of shock.

He laughs under his breath. “I need your help, Lil's.”

Oh, he needs help all right. “Do you, now?”

Chris sits back and loosens his tie. “Hear me out.”

He holds his hands palm up in front of him. “I've been undercover with the Slayers for a while. We were gathering intel, building a case. We had almost everything we needed and were just about to make a bust when you were taken. Things started to really heat up... and we thought maybe we could could get just a bit more... really make the charges stick.”

“And that got a girl killed,” I add.

Chris takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his hair. “And... that got a girl killed. You're right. I'm not looking to dodge it. I'm looking to try to make it right here, Lil's.”

“Oh really? And how exactly do you make something like that right?”

“By making sure another innocent person isn't ruined because of Shade. The powers that be are gunning to pin this on someone fast, Lil's. You need to know that. Your prints were on the murder weapon. There were no witnesses. You had a motive.”

I throw my hands down on the table top. “Damn right I had a motive... so did a helluva lot of other people! That doesn't mean I killed him!”

Special agent Pretty Boy, or whatever his real name is, gently slides the manila folder my way.

“I have reported from day one, that you could not have committed the murder. Lil's. You know it, and I know it. But I do think you know who did. Because I can only stall this for so long before I'm gonna get steamrolled on this one, and they're gonna settle for you, regardless of any doubts.”

I eye the folder critically. “I can't help you. I don't know anything. When I got to the living room, Shade was already dead. I picked up the gun to protect myself.”

Chris opened up the folder and set a blank piece of paper in front of me. “Write down what you just told me. We'll make an official statement. That should stall things for a little while.”

He slipped a long, thin pen from his inside pocket and clicked the end loudly. I thought hard about my options. There weren’t too many of them. I could refuse, and run the risk of being arrested right here on the spot for failing to cooperate. Or, I could fill out his statement. On one hand, I could help clear my name... but at what cost?

“Don’t trust the cops.” I can’t tell you how long I’ve heard those words in some form or another. Almost as long as I’ve heard “Don’t be a rat.” I didn’t know what the fuck to do....

Just as I’m about to reach for the silver pen that Chris is extending my way, a quick rapping at the closed wooden door causes us both to jolt. Bernie, the club’s attorney rushes in before the uniformed cop standing guard outside can open the door completely.

“Bernard Ruben, Esquire. I am Miss Kaegan's counsel.” He presents his business card to Chris. “Do you have any plans to place my client into custody?”

Pretty Boy tucks the small rectangular item into his shirt pocket and stands to face Bernie. I’ve always liked Bernie. He’s been my dad’s lawyer ever since I can remember. With the amount of trouble that Butch has managed to find himself in over the years, let’s just say I’ve had to rely on Bernie quite a bit.

I have no doubt who sent him. I’m sure Jay is somewhere out in the lobby raising hell, or has probably already been arrested for disturbing the peace, assaulting a police officer... who knows what else he could have managed to do while I’ve been stuck in here being interrogated?

Chris slides his chair backward as he stands, extending his free hand out to greet Bernie Ruben, Esquire.

“Special agent Gibson,” Chris introduces himself as the two men awkwardly grip hands. “And, no. I do not plan on arresting Lil’s. I know she’s not guilty of anything besides trying to pretend she was somewhere else on the night in question. But, my superiors don’t share my opinion. I need your client to cooperate, counselor.”

Bernie shoots his gaze over to me, and spots the form on the table directly in front of where I’m siting. “Did you sign anything?”

I shake my head. “No.”

He looks relieved. “Good. Come with me, we’re leaving.”

Cautiously, I move to follow him. Chris steps in front of me, blocking my path. Bernie takes notice and eyes him curiously.

“Lil’s, I really am just trying to help you before this all blows up. Please think about this. Take my number and please... do not hesitate to call me.” Chris pleads.

Instinctively, I turn to Bernie for silent instruction. He nods. I take Chris’s card and follow Bernie into the hall, leaving agent Pretty Boy to linger behind.

“Wait!” I stop short and turn on my heel. “Where’s Jessica?”

Chris rolls his eyes. “Your friend with the razor sharp tongue?” He smirks. “We released her right after she threatened to call the ACLU, Fox News, her father’s attorney, her uncle, the State Senator...” He was counting down on his fingers, going through Jess’s oral threats. “And... she told me just what she thought of me. But... I actually kind of enjoyed that part. Added a little excitement to my day.”

Yep. That sounded like Jess. The girl could make you cry with her verbal assaults, if she really put half an effort in. I can only imagine the things she must have said to him. Good. He deserved it. Phony.

Bernie reaches out and gently takes hold of my elbow, leading me away.

I take a deep breath, exhaling my relief to be leaving this place. I know it could have gone differently. I know I could have easily been walking the opposite way, away from the exit instead and back toward the cells. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

******

Jess is seated in an industrial-style molded plastic chair, waiting for us as we come through the main doors. At the sight of me, she leaps up, rushing forward.

“Thank God!”

We hug, comforting each other from our shared experience. Despite my family ties and hot temper, I’ve never so much as seen an interrogation room except on TV. Given Jess’s upstanding breeding, I’m guessing she hasn’t either.

“That jerk Gibson promised me he was going to let you go, but it’s been almost an hour! I was getting so worried!” She was patting and smoothing my hair. Attempting to make me look presentable. “It’s OK, though. I got his badge number.”

I try not to laugh, but the thought of what Jess could do, is just too overwhelming. God help Pretty Boy... he has no idea what is coming his way.

The room is full, with plenty of people waiting about. Most look nervous, anxious, tired. Understandably so. This place is horrible. I’ve managed to sort through the groups of people, but there’s no sign of Jay anywhere. Or anyone else that I know, for that matter. What?

“Where is everybody?” I ask Bernie.

He places one hand on each of our backs, and steers Jess and me through the sterile looking lobby of the Chisolm Police department, and out into the night air.

“Jay had some pretty important things to put in place when he found out you were here. He’ll be busy a little while longer but will meet the two of you at home. This young lady’s car...” he nods to Jessica, “has already been delivered back to Jay’s house. I’ll give you two a lift home.”

What could be so damn important that he wouldn’t even come to get me? Do you know how many times I’ve been there for my pop, Tiny, Jay... any of them that have ever gotten into trouble? The one time I get into a legal jam and they’re nowhere to be found! I can’t help but feel hurt, alone, angry.

“Oh, before I forget... this belongs to you, young lady.” Bernie hands me a plastic baggie containing my cell phone. It had been taken from me before I was taken back for questioning. Apparently, electronic devices are frowned upon in a controlled environment like an FBI inquisition.

Ever the gentleman, Bernie opens the rear car door for us and I follow Jessica in. Powering up my phone, the screen instantly lights up with a tally of all of the messages. I thumb my way through them, scrolling down until I reach the one I am looking for.

JAY: I SENT BERNIE

HE’LL GET YOU HOME ASAP

DON’T WORRY.... I’VE GOT A PLAN

I LOVE YOU

******

JAY

The most important people in Lil’s life, hell in my life, are around this table. Butch, Tiny, Pops and Ma. We’ve just spent the last hour or so going over all the details. Pops is holding on to my ma, stoically supporting her as she gazes blankly at nothing in particular. Butch lights up a cigarette and takes a long drag. Tiny just watches. My oldest, truest friend in the world watches and holds back his words. He knows the kind of man I am. He knows none of his words can change my mind. All of the people around this table know that.

I’ve done worse things than most people, when I’ve needed too. What I’m about to do, though... I need all of the people here to be behind me. I can’t do it without them.

CHAPTER SIX

I reach out and pull her closer. She’s only inches away... but it’s not close enough. Her bare shoulder is exposed, calling to me. There’s not much light trickling in through the windows, but I can see the tiny little bumps forming on that soft skin as I breathe onto it.

She stirs slightly, deep in her dream state but wanting to leave it, to come to me. I know I’ve got to help her break from her sleep and join me in the here and now. I slide my hand down the curve of her hip, dragging the sheet down with it, while I kiss that shoulder deep using my heat to soothe the prickled gooseflesh.

Her luscious hip gives way to her thigh, and my fingers continue to work their way, edging closer to the moment when she wakes. My fingers disappear into her hot crevice and coat themselves. Oh she was dreaming alright. Fuck me. It’s time to make those dreams come true.

I nip her shoulder and pull on it to roll her over, adjusting my body to rest hovering over her. I feel her hips instinctively raise themselves slightly to meet me. Using my knee I pry my way to where she needs me, where I need to be.

The scorching warmth escapes and greets me as I slide myself slowly, deeply into it. Her sleeping eyes flutter and a hiss breaks free from her pink lips. I settle myself at the hilt, closing my eyes as the enormity of the sensation penetrates through the thin encasement of my dick. Sleeping next to Lil’s every night, next to her gorgeous body leaves me with raging morning wood. I know I’ve got to mentally calm myself or I’m gonna finish this before my baby girl even finishes waking up.

I even out my breathing, concentrating on the steady rhythm. She stirs below me and I feel her moistness clamp down on me. I part her soft lips and move my tongue in, devouring her deep moans. It takes a moment, but once my thrusting begins, she responds to my pumping, my pushing.

“Good mornin’, baby girl.” I greet her. Her nails sketch imaginary lines into my back as she moves them effortlessly over the bulges.

“Mmm.... yes, yes it is,” she answers me in words and then throws her hips up suddenly, answering my body. Lil’s doesn’t usually sleep in much clothing... there’s never much to peel off her, but it’s always an extra treat when there’s nothing at all. I had exhausted her last night when I got home, using my body to apologize to her for not being there, leaving Bernie to bring her home instead. But I managed to get home just minutes after, having disbanded the impromptu family board meeting at the clubhouse.

I had explained to Lil’s that it was all taken care of, there was nothing left to worry about. It was true... I hadn’t lied to her, given her false comfort. It will be all right. She doesn’t need to know the ins and outs of it, though.

“Opppp...” I hear her call out through clenched teeth, the impact of my body chopping her words.

I brush my lips over her ear, the dampening skin sticking to my own. “What, baby?”

She gulps hard, preparing herself for the methodic impact our bodies are giving to each other.

“Top! Put me on top.”

I hold tight while I twist us around, granting her wish.

She leans back, elongating herself, her tits practically pointing up. I can’t control myself. I reach up and grab hold of both of them, thumbing the nipples to hardened peaks. Her hips twirl round and round, grinding herself deep, sating herself. Kneading them no longer appeases me, I need to taste them.

I pull her down to me, drawing her pink round tip into my mouth, and I suck hard. She calls out, and throws her hands up to brace onto the headboard. Her loud moaning and groaning encourages me. I slap my hand down onto her ass cheek, grabbing the flesh between my splayed fingers. The circling of her hips increases speed and her panting matches the quickening movements.

Just when I think she can’t move any faster, she screams out and clenches hard enough on the wood headboard to indent it. Nothing turns me on more than watching my girl get off. I grab her hips and pull down hard, meeting my deep thrust, bringing me to my own release. She collapses down on top of me, and I hold tight while waiting for my body to calm.

Her aftershocks quake around my cock, drawing out and extending my own spasms.

“That was goddamned incredible, Lil’s.”

She tilts her head up and eyes me coyly. “I hope it makes up for missing your bachelor party ‘cause your fiancé got pinched by the feds.”

Laughter vibrates through us. We spoke at length, reliving every single detail of last night’s ordeal, the moment I had gotten home. There was no need to let it fuck anything else up.

I play mindlessly with the plumpness of her bottom. “I didn’t miss much. I managed to get a good deal in before having to arrange to spring you out of the slammer.”

Lil’s playfully smacks my arm and latches on to my lip, her teeth holding me hostage. “Asshole,” she teases.

I throw her down on the mattress under me, as I spin to cover her with my upper body. I pin her arms up, holding them at bay, above her head. “Where did you say you wanted it?” I bait her.

Her eyes grow wide and her cheeks blush a deep shade of berry. She can barely speak coherently, her laughter breaking up her words. “I did not! Jasper, don’t you dare!”

******

Special Agent Christopher Gibson. I tap the edge of the small card I hold in my hands against the wooden bureau. Very few things in this life have the ability to surprise me. Slap me silly and call me shocked... this is one of them. We’ve been searching high and low for the motherfucker. This explains why nothing turned up. While we were looking for a roughneck biker, the real Pretty Boy, a tie-wearing, bitch with a badge, was hiding out behind the scenes.

It’s safe to say we can scratch him off the short list of murder suspects. Lil’s had always been adamant that she didn’t think he did it, but I couldn’t help but hold out hope that at the very least he knew who did. That’s why we’ve been searching high and low for him.

If special agent Christopher Gibson knew who shot Shade, there’s no way an arrest would not have been made by now. Which is good and bad. It’s good that Lil’s hasn’t been officially charged, although all signs point to an inevitable arrest at some point unless something drastic happens. Now that we can quit searching for Pretty Boy, we can focus all of our energy on Vicky. Leo’s already shifted his search.

“Babe! You gotta go! Quit stalling!”

I close my eyes and shake my head, this woman is going to drive me insane today. I’ve heard the term bridezilla before, and had no doubt that women like Jessica gave real credence to it. But my girl.. she was a different breed. At least I thought so, until today. The wedding is still almost ten hours away. Everything’s already been taken care of, but Lil’s is starting to freak.

Dressed in nothing more than a satin robe, with her hair piled high in a giant knot on her head, she marches into the bedroom.

“I mean it Jay! You need to go, like now! It’s bad enough you stayed here last night and are even seeing me before the wedding. But you need to leave before people start getting here.”

She positions herself behind me, placing her palms on my back, pushing hard on my leather. I play along and allow her to essentially kick me out of my own house.

“I thought it was only bad luck if I see you in your dress?” I ask while being escorted to the front door.

Jess stands in the kitchen entryway leaning up against the door frame, clutching her coffee mug like it was a lifeline. It had been a really late night, last night, with the impromptu rehearsal dinner at the my parents’ house. Jess isn’t used to this type of lifestyle and I can tell it’s wearing on her.

“He’s got a point, Lil’s,” Jess calls out, pitying me, but is quickly quieted by some sort of death stare from the sexy banshee in white behind me.

I give up the ruse and quickly turn, proving Lil’s strength futile against my own.

“Alright, alright. I’ll go. But you know you’re secretly glad I didn’t leave.” I scoop her into my arms and quickly squash her wily protests. “Admit it that you really wanted me to stay last night and I’ll go. Admit that it was worth it.”

She playfully throws invisible dagger at me with her eyes. Finally exhaling and relaxing her shoulders in defeat, she concedes. “Fine. I’m glad you didn’t crash at the clubhouse last night.”

I arch my eyebrow, cocking my head. “And...?” I squeeze her just a bit tighter.

I can see her clenching her teeth. She reluctantly speaks through them. “And it was worth it. NOW GO!”

I grab one last kiss before she has the reaction time to swat me away, and head out the door. I throw my shades on and climb on my bike. Damn right it was worth it. The ten shades of red that Jess’s cheeks were when I ran into her this morning while grabbing some coffee told me that Lil’s and I were just as loud as I thought we were. I’m gonna have to remember to send a prospect over to patch the wall behind the headboard.

Fuck tradition. No way in hell was I gonna willingly give up any time with Lil’s. We may not have that much left.

*****

LIL’S

Relax. People get married every damn day. This is nothing new. I just need to relax and it will all be OK.

Sunny sticks another pin in my hair, smiling down at me as she works her magic. I smile back. That’s what I’m supposed to do today, right. Smile. Play it off like I don’t have a care in the world. Like everything is all rainbows and kitty cats.

Jean comes swooping in with a makeup brush of some sorts, and I flinch. I’m not used to this much primping and pampering, and I feel like I’ve been assaulted with every type of beautification tool imaginable.

“Just a little bit of sealer...” Ma explains as she swipes the sticky brush over my pout. “And... done.” She steps back to admire her handiwork. “Beautiful. Simply stunning.”

There is a chorus of agreement behind her. Jessica, Charlie, and Bobby nod and coo in unison, all in various states of dress. I smile again. Just keep smiling. They all accept my show of thanks and scurry off to finish dolling themselves up. Sunny puts one last heavy dose of hairspray over the curled masterpiece and readjusts my veil.

I feel the fine lace brush over my neck and instantly notice my skin freeze over. A frigid sensation creeps over me as the beginning of a sweat breaks out across my flesh. I grab out and hold on to the breakfast nook beside me and close my eyes, fixing all my collective efforts on settling myself.

“She doesn’t look so good,” I hear as a distant echo, breaking through the darkness I’m fighting against.

Almost immediately, I feel currents of air break against my skin, with a crumpling sound accompanying each breeze. I feel a warm hand close around my own and pry the stiff fingers open to settle around a heavy smooth glass.

“Here, drink this Lil’s. You need some sugar.” Charlie instructs me, as she guides the small glass to my quivering lips. I take a small, cautious sip. The tart sweetness of the orange juice instantly explodes across my tongue. I swallow gulp after gulp until I’ve no liquid left to take.

I carefully open my eyes, not wanting to chance the physical relief that’s beginning to pour over me. Bobby continues to fan me with a glossy magazine as everyone else watches, frozen. Waiting to react to the slightest sign of a swoon.

“I’m... it’s alright, I think. Just a little morning sickness.” I smile. Just keep smiling.

They disperse, back to their tasks. Charlie, the only one that is completely dressed, lingers behind. “You felling better then?”

“Sure..” I lie. “It happens all the time.” I lie again.

She nods, while observing me. “You know, Lil’s... I’ve never seen a happy couple before. I mean, a truly happy couple before, two people who are better together than not. I didn’t think it existed. I see that with you and Jay.” She shyly looks down. “I want to thank you for showing that to me.”

I put my hand on hers. “I tried to live without him. It wasn’t a life I would ever have been able to be happy with. So... I guess he’s stuck with me.”

We both laugh, lightening the weight of the last few minutes.

“You know...” I add. “Clink’s not too shabby himself.”

Her eyes look sad for a moment. Barely a moment, but then instantly hidden. “He’s not too shabby himself.” She grins and then helps me stand. “All right, single lady. Let’s go get you dressed and hitched!”

******

I’ve only felt truly beautiful a handful of times. When I looked at myself in the full-length mirror, with Jean standing behind me smoothing out my veil and shifting the thin fabric over my shoulders, I couldn’t help but flashback to the night of my prom. I felt beautiful then, too.

“It’s like this dress was meant for you, baby girl.” Jean tears up. “I just... you’re literally glowing.”

I turn and give her a hug. “Aw, ma... it’s the hormones.” I explain into her shoulder.

She moves to hold me at bay, searching to meet my eyes with her own. “No. It’s love. It makes you more beautiful than you can even imagine.” She kisses my cheek.

“I have something for you.”

Reaching around me to the small satchel on the dresser, she fumbles inside until she removes a small velvet box. She presents the box to me, opening the hinged lid as she moves near. “Something old...”

The pearl earrings dazzle in the sunlight. They are small, perfect. My mouth drops open, gaping at their beauty. “But...”

“Hush.” Jean waves her hand freely. “These were a gift from my own mother. She bought them for me for my wedding day. They are yours now.”

She speaks as she works with the clasps, fixing them to my ears.

“And one day...” she rests her hand on the embroidered lace covering my stomach. “One day they will be hers.” She winks at me.

I cover her hand with my own. A tear threatening to roll down my heavily made up cheek. “Thank you... mom.”

She nods, fighting back something, suppressing strong emotions, while her eyes glass over. “You’re...” Her voice cracks. “I will always be here for you, Lil’s. You’re my daughter now.”

I hug her tightly, thankful and grateful for her. But, also wishing it was my own mom who could say these things to me. The roar of motorcycles reaches the front yard.

We let each other go.

“I think that’s our ride.” She laughs. I nod. I guess it’s time. “I’ll give you a few minutes.”

She kisses me on the cheek and lets herself out of the bedroom, leaving me to myself.

I look at myself, I mean really look at myself, my reflection staring back. I can’t believe I’m here, can’t believe this is me. I can’t even begin to label the vast amount of emotions swirling around inside. Happiness... I’m happier than I’ve ever been. Nervous... I’m afraid to walk out in front of all those people. Fear... terrified of the things that have been happening lately. The police, the FBI, Emily, Shade... I shake my head, as if the physical act will somehow erase the horrible feelings biting away at what should be the happiest day of my life.

There’s gratitude... I’m grateful that I’ve been able to get back what I so callously threw away all those years ago. Grateful to Jay for still loving me, knowing that I truly don’t deserve it, but that I can’t live without it.

I need to concentrate on those feelings. I need to compartmentalize the good from the bad and just shove them away for now. Yes, I was questioned by the FBI a few days ago. Yes, I’m terrified that I may be taken from the man I love and accused of something I did not do. Yes, I’ve even seen terrible things that will haunt me for the rest of my life. But I need to focus on the here and now. I need to smile and just keep smiling.

******

The living room is full, the bridal party dressed and carrying their flowers, making last minute adjustments to one another. Butch, smoothing back his thinning hair, stops, frozen still as I walk down the hallway toward them.

All voices hush, and my dad walks toward me.

“Oh my God. You...” Tears start to slowly stream down his clean shaven face. “You look beautiful.” He eyes me carefully. “You look just like your momma did.”

I gulp hard, not knowing why a sudden sadness is washing over me. “Thanks, pop.” I hug him dearly, thankful for the one blood parent I have here with me. He nods, and withdraws himself to wipe at his face with his hanky.

“Let’s do this then... before we all go into a crying fit.” I make light of the situation. Knowing that I may very well start the waterworks soon if we don’t start moving.

Everyone begins to file out. Jean, Sunny, Charlie, Bobby, Jess, followed by pop and me. It’s a beautiful day, the sun beginning its descent and bathing the world in a soft light to everything it touches. Two large limos are parked in front of the house, with two Harleys parked behind. The first limo fills quickly leaving Jean behind to ride with us. Tiny lingers by his bike, talking into his cellphone before he notices me and quickly ends his call.

“Everything OK?” I ask out to him as he approaches.

He sighs deep enough for me to notice from twenty feet away.

“WOW! I can’t believe how gorgeous you look.”

I playfully smack his chest. “Thanks! ‘Cause I’m such a troll, right?”

He holds onto my hand. “ ‘Cause you’re my baby sister and I can’t bring myself to accept that you’ve grown up into such a beautiful woman.”

Now I’m gonna lose it. I’ve managed to talk myself out of tears all morning, with an abundance of emotions crashing over me, begging to just let go. And now, all that hard work is gonna be thrown out the window at just a few words from the big jaloop. Tiny and I have been through a lot together. There were times when all we had was each other. Life had given me Jay back, and this new baby... but it had also given me back my brother. And I will forever be grateful for that. Because this man is the second greatest man I’ve even known.

He hugs me carefully, delicately. Very unlike Tiny.

“I’m not gonna break, Tiny.”

He lets me go, sheepishly ashamed of his sudden lack of masculinity. “I know... but Sunny swears she’s gonna cut me off for a week if I mess up your hair.”

“Pig,” I accuse. He’s back to his old self. That was quick.

“Hey... I have a wedding present for you.” He looks at his phone again. “Just... give it two more minutes.”

Huh? I eye him suspiciously. No way would he dare a prank on a day like today, so I think it’s pretty safe. I turn and wave to the driver of the first car. “Go ahead! We’ll be right along!”

We wait in silence for a moment or two after the first limo has left for the church. Jean sets our bouquets carefully in our own limo, while pop and Tiny share a good deal of anxious fidgeting. A small blue sedan slowly comes to a stop just across the street.

Butch shyly jams his fists into his suit pockets and Tiny throws his eyes to me. Jean smiles, kisses me on the cheek and then disappears into the waiting limo. I grow stiff, imaginary weights bogging me down, holding me in place.

My mother slowly leaves her car and cautiously walks toward us. I lock eyes with her, and watch as she reflects the same expression I must have on my face. We are treading lightly, unsure of the other’s position.

I turn to Tiny. “You did this? For me?”

He nods. “Of course.”

The tears well up, clouding my vision. I lose the details of him, but still see his form as I throw myself into his arms. Gulping hard, I muster enough control to speak. I whisper into his ear. “Thank you.”

We release each other. My mother reaches us. She watches the three of us, unsure of her place among us. “I hope I’m not too late?”

I breathe quick, my intake wobbly from the weight of the moment.

“You’re right on time.”

******

The music escapes the ancient, thick wooden door every time it’s opened. Tiny and mom just disappeared through it, leaving only pop and me standing, waiting. The seconds trail on, slowing themselves as they get closer to the moment. The moment when I leave this man’s arms, this imperfect man who has loved me and done right by me as best he could, and into those of the man who will vow to love me until we are no more.

“I... I just want you to be happy. I’ve always wanted that for you.”

I close my eyes. “I know, pop.” I squeeze his hand. “I love you, too.”

The door opens before us, and once more the music floods out into the air. Instinctively, we move, slowly walking into the shadowed lighting within. I nervously glance around and see every face I’d imagined to be here. A prickly heat rises up my neck, the sleeves begin to itch at the skin beneath. My lips dry themselves and feel as if they’ll split if I move them. Each set of eyes eyes that returns my gaze, watches, unknowingly as I feel myself compressing, the pressure building up, weighing on my lungs.

I’ve scanned the entire room, finally setting my sights to the end of the aisle, to where Jay stares back at me. His eyes speak unknown words to me, calming and soothing the inner disarray. The faces begin to disappear, the sounds begin to trail off. He grows larger, more prominent, until I am close enough to feel the energy, the body heat pour from him. The walk down that aisle feels like an eternity, each step bringing me closer, reliving moments from our past, our history. This journey felt like eternity, while it was really just a lifetime in the making.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ugh. I know I’m not hung over, I can’t be. Sipping ginger ale all night from a champagne flute was enough to fool most people at the reception, but could it have fooled my body, also? My head hurts from not getting enough sleep, my feet hurt from dancing all night, and my girly bits are sore from “consummating” the marriage last night. Over and over again. There’s no way this marriage isn’t legit now. I laugh to myself. Jay had warned me that he would be in charge of planning the wedding night, and he certainly did not disappoint. It’ll probably take me days to recover.

I roll over and stare at the empty bed beside me. The clock is blinking its obnoxious red numbers... I can’t believe I slept so late! I tilt my neck, raising my nostrils up searching for any signs of brewing coffee. None. I know Jay doesn’t make coffee as well as I do, but he could have at least attempted it. Ugh. Men.

I laugh again as I swing my legs over the side of the bed thinking of a thread I came across a while ago on some website. #Husband problems.

Cinching the flimsy belt around my waist, I saunter through the house looking for my husband. I reach the kitchen with no success. Crap. I’ll make the damn coffee myself. I prepare the filter and scoop the appropriate amount of ground coffee beans into the reservoir, flipping the switch as I leave the machine to do its work. Sliding into the breakfast nook, I will myself to waken fully.

A small folded piece of paper sits perched against the flower vase in the middle of the table. I see faint letters sprawled across the top fold and reach for it. It has my name written on it, so I open it.

Lil’s-

When you wake up, call my ma.

She has something for you.

Jay

What the fuck? Are you kidding me? Do not tell me that he’s doing club business today. We agreed not to take a honeymoon for about a month, so we could really plan something nice... considering how quickly we put the wedding together, we didn’t want to just throw a honeymoon together, too.

But, we had agreed that we would spend the few days after the wedding together before going back to the “real world.” I angrily pick up the house phone and punch in the numbers to Jean’s cell. She answers before the first ring is even completed.

“Lil’s?” Jean speaks. She sounds just as tired, if not more, than me. “I’ll be right over.”

I can’t even manage to get a word in edgewise, before she ends the call. I stare at the phone in my hand. I have a feeling I’m about to get pretty pissed off. I storm off toward the bathroom, disrobing along the way. I wonder what it is this time, a protection run, handling some other brother’s shit, running to daddy when he calls.

The hot water makes my already flushed skin burn. I know how club business works. It’s not your average 9-5, but we seriously need to talk through this kind of stuff. It’s not going to fly when the baby gets here. I shower and perform my everyday basic beauty routine in record time. Throwing on some skinny jeans that, thank God, still fit, and a flowy top. I head back to the kitchen where my coffee is waiting.

The front door sounds as it opens and closes while I’m pouring myself a cup. I call out to Jean. “I just made some coffee, ma, you want a cup?” I turn to greet her, but instead of one person, as I am expecting... I see several.

“Ok... I’ll make some more coffee...” I curiously eye the group now making its way deep into my kitchen. Butch and Tiny flow in followed by Vince and Jean.

“No... don’t go to any trouble, sweetheart,” Jean suggests.

I push my mug aside, spilling out some of the chestnut liquid. “What the hell is going on here?”

Nervous looks are exchanged, but no one will look directly at me.

“Jay gave me something to give you, Lil’s.” Jean withdraws a sealed envelope from her purse and hands it over to me, reluctantly. “He asked that we all be here when you read it.”

I rip the envelope from her, a touch more aggressively than I planned.

“You might want to go read that in private, sweetheart.” Butch adds.

I turn to him, “You know what this is all about, too?” He looks away. “Fine, I’ll go read this damn note and then I’ll deal with all of you after I finish with Jay.

I stalk off into my bedroom and slam the door behind me. Once safe inside I stare at the generic looking paper in my hands. I notice it starts to tremble as my hands mindlessly start to move on their own accord. My mind goes blank. My body goes numb. I don’t know what’s in this envelope, but I do know that I don’t want to open it. I want to pause this moment, freeze time. If I open this, I know that I’ll never be able to undo it. I step over to the foot of the unmade bed and turn to have a seat, placing the unassuming looking envelope next to me.

I stare at the wall. I have very few options here. My curiosity is starting to get the better of me and I know I won’t be able to resist the contents within that seal for long.

I grab for the paper and tear open the flap, tossing the wasted envelope aside. There are three handwritten pages inside. I take a deep breath. I read the note.

Baby,

I remember the first time I laid eyes on you. It was the day you were born. Your brother was staying at my house while your parents were at the hospital, and when it was time, we brought Tiny there to meet you. I was so jealous of you that day. I watched as he got to hold you and kissed you on the cheek. I was a punk ass little kid and hated you a little then. I thought you were stealing my best friend away from me. You and Tiny would always have each other and I would always be the third wheel. I convinced myself that you would be nothing but trouble. Well... I was kind of right on that one.

One night when Tiny and I were having a sleepover at your house, you couldn’t have been more than 2. Your mom and pop were at it again, fighting up a storm. You were crying in your crib. Tiny went to go try and get your mom and I stayed with you. You were scaring the shit out of me right then. I didn’t know if you were hurt, hungry, scared. You wouldn’t stop crying.

I sat down on the floor and stuck my hand in between the bars. You latched on and finally stopped crying. You just kept looking at me. I tried to let go, and you started to cry again. So I just sat there for a long time with my hand stuck in the crib. Eventually, you fell asleep. I could have taken my hand back, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I wanted you to know that someone was there.

Something changed. You weren’t just Tiny’s to take care of and protect anymore. You were mine, too. I remember the first time I knew I loved you. I remember the first time I kissed you. I remember the first time I made love to you, and I remember the time you broke my heart.

But, I also remember you coming back to me, and I will always remember my vows to you. Just like all those years ago when you were a crying little kid, I vowed to protect you. That’s what I’m doing now. I know you wont understand this. Hell, you’ll probably get so damn mad and hate me for a little bit. But I will never let anything happen to you or our baby. You know that about me. You know there’s nothing that’s gonna change that.

I am writing this letter because I can’t tell you this in person. I’m only so strong, Lil’s, and I don’t think I’d be able to do what needed to be done if I had to watch the hurt in your eyes when I told you. This is one time I can’t chance being weak.

I’ve turned myself in, and confessed to murdering Shade. We’ve done everything possible to try and find another way around this, to stall them from going after you. But, I don’t know what else to do at this point. I will not risk you being caught up in this, will not risk you being taken away. The thought of you and my baby in a jail cell is something I cannot live with.

The club is still working on figuring things out, trying to get to the bottom of it... they’ll get me out of here. But until then, I’ll know your safe. If the worst happens, and I’m in here for good, we’ll cross that bridge if we have to. Just know that everything’s been taken care of.

The house has already been turned over in your name. All of my accounts have been transferred to you, and all of my shares of club business will be given to you. You’ll always be taken care of. The baby will always be taken care of. I never wanted things to happen this way. I thought now that we’ve gotten our second chance, that was it.

I will always love you. Your family is there now because I want you to know that you are never alone. Please don’t push them away. They need you just as much as you need them. My ma is taking this rough, Lil’s. Please be there for each other.

Don’t try to come see me. I’ve made sure that they won’t let you in as a visitor right now. I can’t see you right now. I don’t want you to see me like this. I love you. Please don’t ever, ever doubt that. I may not be the smartest, richest man. But for a while I was the happiest. You were the reason.

I’m going to close my eyes tonight and imagine I’m holding your little hand through these bars. But it will be good, because I’ll know I kept my promise.

Your Husband, Jay

******

The crumpled note is practically melting away in my palm, the pressure of my closing fist condensing and minimizing it to nothing more than a scrap. Bright white light floods my vision as anger seethes through me, blinding me.

How dare he! How dare he promise to love and cherish me, not even twenty four hours ago, and then... bam! make a unilateral decision like this changing both of our lives? This couldn’t have been some spur of the moment decision, either.

This note, those people out there, the legal and financial preparations that Jay says were made... those things don’t just happen over night. The bastard planned this. He planned to give me my wedding day yesterday, make things official, and then hurry off to play martyr. How dare he!

I think it’s been proven time and time again that my temper gets me into some pretty tight shit. If I really wanted to analyze the situation, I could trace every fucked-up part of this ordeal back to some random, stupid, knee-jerk decision by me. I took a psychology class sophomore year and learned that the definition of insanity is repeating the same behaviors again and again, while expecting different outcomes, or some shit like that.

Jay, my husband, no doubt trusts that’s exactly what will happen. That’s why the reinforcements were brought in. The group of people sitting at my kitchen table right now were probably well-instructed on how to keep me contained so I can’t fuck even this situation up.

Things will never change. I can grow older, get married, have a baby... they will always see me as some kid who lashes out, does something stupid, and they need to run in and save the day. To say that I’ve been underestimated would be sugar coating it. I’ve been around this family, this club, way too long to just sit back and let others pull the strings.

I inhale a long, slow, deep breath and count to ten. I think I learned that in my psychology class, too. I methodically smooth out the tattered paper over my thigh and carefully fold it so that it is no longer a ball of trash.

Who can I call right now? No doubt Sunny would help if I asked her to, but that would cause a shitstorm of problems for her and Tiny. I’m not too sure about Charlie... she and Clink are... well, I actually don’t even know what she and Clink are... but, he’s almost as much of a neanderthal as Jay is sometimes. I don’t want to go stirring up a hornet’s nest for her.

Jess. A waive of relief washes over me as I remember that Jess is still in town. She spent the night over at Charlie’s to give Jay and me our space for our wedding night.

I glance at the bedside clock. Shit! She might be heading home at this very moment. I lunge for my cell phone, and furiously text, not risking a phone call that could betray me and seep out to be heard by my guests.

ME: PLEASE TELL ME YOU ARE

STILL AROUND?

I close my eyes tight. The white backdrop returns, this time from the growing pressure as I squeeze my lids against each other. Please still be here. Please still be here. Please still be here. A soft vibrate rattles in my hand.

JESS: MORNING MRS. CAULEY

There is a God. I methodically key in my request.

ME: I NEED YOU.

SOMETHING’S HAPPENED AND

I NEED YOUR HELP.

PLEASE JUST DO WHAT I

ASK. I’LL ANSWER ANY

QUESTIONS YOU HAVE LATER.

Jess is a very curious person. I just need her to put that aside for a moment and do as I ask.

JESS: OK. WHAT DO YOU NEED?

Thatta girl!

ME: I NEED YOU TO CONTACT

SPECIAL AGENT GIBSON.

TELL HIM I AM READY TO

HELP HIM. THEN THE TWO

OF YOU COME TO MY HOUSE

AND GET ME.

I drop the phone down onto the padded mattress, and let the full weight of my request settle in. This goes against everything I know, everything I was taught. You don’t bring cops into club business. You don’t bring outsiders, either. I know my actions won’t be looked upon lightly, but I don’t fucking care. The thought of being alone, without Jay is too much to bear. The thought of our child not knowing their father other than through a set of bars, sickens me.

Jay says I know him, I know the kind of man he his, why he’s done what he’s done. I do know him. I know that this is just who he is, what he’s made of. But, he knows me too. He may be expecting me to just freak the fuck out and then settle down and accept things... that was the old me. That was Julia Kaegan... single girl with only herself to think of. I’ve evolved, morphed into what and who I was meant to be. Lil’s Cauley. Wife, mother... it’s a fucking game changer.

CHAPTER EIGHT

My foot nervously twitches, awaiting what’s to come. My fingers wring themselves around each other, stretching and pulling on one another. Enough time has passed, they should be here soon. Just when I’ve nervously bitten the inside of my cheek raw, the doorbell rings. This is it.

I scurry out into the main part of the house and past the crowd as they migrate from the kitchen to see who’s come. I purposely avoid their eyes. Swinging the door wide, Jess and Chris stand before me. It’s Sunday, and he’s in casual clothes. He must be off duty. Thank God for small miracles.

Jess rushes in to embrace me. I have offered no explanation yet, and she must be thinking the worst has happened, I’m sure. “You alright, Julia?”

I nod, absently. “I just need to go. Please.”

Jess wraps her hand around my shoulders, and eyes Chris, who has now straightened himself tall before the group of bikers flanking me.

A loud voice clears itself. “Lil’s... you need some rest. It’s been a long morning. Why don’t you go back to bed and I’ll see your friends out.” Vince speaks from over my shoulder.

“No! I’m not going to rest or go hide away.” I defy him. “I’m not going to sit by and let this happen. I’m leaving, now.”

I feel an imposing presence loom behind me. “The hell you are. Your ol’ man wants you to stay put.”

I see Chris step forward but dart my eyes to warn him, stopping him in his tracks. I shrug off Jess’s comforting arm and turn harshly to face my father-in-law. My Godfather. My club’s president.

“Vince. I’m leaving. My ol’ man is gonna have plenty to say, I’m sure. But it’ll be said to me. His wife. To my face. Not... through a middleman.” And with that, I stalk out through the door. I make my way to the newer model sedan in the driveway. Without waiting for instruction, I help myself into the backseat.

Chris and Jess appear stunned, but follow suit and pile in.

******

“You sure about this, Lil’s?” Jess voices her concern from the front passenger seat.

It’s been barely a week since I was inside that building, hidden away in one of the nondescript interrogation rooms. According to Chris, Jay was inside being processed and preparing to be transported to the local jail.

“I’m sure, Jess. I need to see him.”

“I can get you in and sit him at the table, Lil's, but I can't guarantee he'll talk to you,” Chris chimes in.

I appreciate his frankness. “Just put us in the same room. I don't necessarily need him to talk to me. I just need him to listen.”

When I first met Pretty Boy in the farmhouse, I was wary of him. He proved me wrong, though, and stepped in to save my ass. Special agent Chris Gibson was a prick when I met him, but Chris... I think I like Chris. It was like a perpetual case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Even on his day off, walking into the precinct in plain clothes, Chris commands the respect of the desk cops running things. He fills out some paperwork and Jess and I wait in the seating area. Chris briefly updates us that Jay is still being processed. Surprisingly, he brings us over some bottled water, and takes the seat next to Jessica.

I pass the time by checking my phone. The silent buzzing alert has been vibrating in my bag nonstop since leaving the house. Scrolling through, I see the gambit of missed messages and calls. Vince, Jean, Pop, Tiny, and even Sunny. I can understand their need to call, just as I'm sure they understand deep down why I don't answer.

With phone in hand, reading through the most recent of texts, the vibrating alarm sounds once more, signaling an incoming call. Charlie. Great. Don't tell me that they've gotten her on board, too. Accepting the call, I stand and leave my companions for the privacy the outdoors can offer.

“Charlie?” I hold up my hand signaling to Jess that I'll be back shortly.

“Lil's? What the hell is going on! Clink just stormed off after getting a call from Vince. He kept going on and on about you doing exactly what he thought you would, and how you've got a hot head with these things.” She takes a breath. “He said that if only you'd let them find Vicky, they'd be able to get Jay out of jail in no time...”

“Whoa! Hold on a sec,” I interject. “What did he say about Vicky?”

I can hear the confusion in her voice. “Huh? He just said they would find this Vicky person and you don't need to get involved. Something about her probably being in Texas. Is Jay really in jail? Are you going to jail?”

Closing my eyes tightly and pressing my fingers to my temple I think. “What the hell does Vicky have to do with all of this? Why would they need to find her, and why would she be in Texas?” This is all getting so much more convoluted and distorted. Think, Lil's.

“Charlie, where are you right now?” I barely have my thoughts formed and linked as I start to verbalize them.

“I'm on my way to work. Why?”

I can't believe I'm about to ask her this. I haven't known Charlie very long, and other than a hunch, I have no reason to think she'll be loyal to me. For all I know, she can go running back to Clink and feed him anything I say. But, I take a gamble.

“There is a woman. Her name is Vicky and she was admitted to the hospital a while back with some injuries from a bar fight.”

I keep things vague. Charlie doesn't need to know all the details. I mean, it doesn't really matter at this point how the bitch got a busted nose.

“If the club is looking for her, she must be an important part of what’s going on. I need to find her, Charlie. I need your help.”

“Me?! How can I help? I don't even know who this chick is.”

Well, at least she's curious as to how she can help. That's a good sign, I think.

I take a deep breath. Here goes. There's nothing like asking a new friend to jeopardize her job, her nursing license and possibly Clink’s wrath by helping me.

“If the club can't find her, she must not be in town anymore. Would the hospital have her contact information?”

I brace myself. For what, I'm not sure. She could tell me to go to hell for all I know. I'm shocked by her response.

“Sure... hang on. I'm clocking into work now. Give me a minute to access the patient portal.”

I let out a long, relief-laden breath. I supply her with the name and date of hospitalization. I find myself nervously tapping my toe and wringing my hands in anxious anticipation.

“Here. I found it. She's Dr. Sherwood's patient. He just called in a prescription for an antibiotic and painkiller last Thursday.” She clicks her tongue. “That's odd. The pharmacy information's been deleted.”

My eyes roam nervously around, searching for some kind of explanation. “Why would that be deleted?”

I hear rustling on the far end of them phone as Charlie moves about. “I'm guessing someone doesn't want sensitive information like that in a program that can be accessed by someone looking for her. Dr. Sherwood has an office here. He only flies in for bigger cases, as the hospital can't afford to keep him on staff full-time. If he called in a script for a pain killer, he must have a hardcopy of it somewhere. I'm betting it also has the pharmacy information on it. I need to get into that office.”

“Wait!” I blurt out. All I wanted was a little bit of digital espionage. I wasn't planning on having Charlie break and enter for me.

Charlie cuts me off. “Lil's. If Jay is in jail, and if this is half as bad as Clink makes it sound... I can help. I want to.”

I bite my lip. I'm so grateful for any help at this point, but I’m torn about the lengths for which I'm asking her to go. For Jay, for us, I must ask.

“Thank you.” I tell her... and I mean it.

Charlie commits to texting me with whatever information she finds. I pray it will be enough. Ending our call, I walk back into the cold, harsh building. Jess and Chris seem to be deep in conversation as I approach. I suddenly feel like a third wheel. I clear my throat awkwardly, alerting them to my presence.

Jess appears bashful and conspicuously adjusts herself away from Chris, turning her attention toward me. “Uh... hey, Lil's.”

I eye her. I know that look. I've seen it more times than I can count. She's on the prowl. I don't know what should be more worrisome. Her hating Special Agent Gibson... or her liking him.

******

Apparently booking and processing someone takes a pretty substantial amount of time. Lunchtime has come and gone, with Jess raiding the lone vending machine for anything edible. There's a pretty decent selection to choose from, but I eventually settle on the packaged crackers and a bag of trail mix. True to form, these cops like their doughnuts. Chris appears with a small box of sugary glazed deliciousness but I can't bring myself to eat it. I'm still seething mad, and this new plan, although in its infancy, is still forming in my head.

Jess, on the other hand, devours almost as many as Chris does. It isn't lost on me that she licks her lips repeatedly to clear away any misplaced icing. Chris can't seem to take his eyes of it. I'm going to be sick.

Sitting back and resting my eyes to ward off the sudden bout of nausea requires all of my concentration at this point, and so I let Jess and Chris's little flirt-fest fade from my senses.

These waves of sickness have been creeping in more frequently lately, although I'm sure the stressors if my life haven't been helping matters. I can't do this alone. I shake my head as if loosening the thought from the dark place my mind is entering. I won't have to do this alone. I'll make sure of it... somehow.

“Lil's... it's time. He can see you now.”

I focus and rise determinedly, Chris standing in front, ready to lead me to see Jay,to see the man I love so much that I actually can't help hating just a bit for what he's done.

******

THEN

“They'll be heading out in a moment, young lady. All charges are being dropped.”

The tired looking officer behind the desk finally spoke to me. I'd been waiting for almost three hours since getting word that Jay and Tiny had been taken into custody over.

Tiny had used his lone phone call to let me know that they may need to be bailed out. It hadn't happened too often, but just enough times for me to know the drill. I threw on some jeans and a hoodie, and crept out of the house as quietly as I could. Butch was sleeping soundly, deep enough to be snoring, in his old La-Z-boy recliner in the living room, I Love Lucy playing on the tv screen. I thoughtfully waited until I was halfway down the street before flipping my headlights on. Butch didn't sleep too well, I'd hate to have woken him. He once told me it was from being used to sleeping in jail. He must have needed to be able to wake up quickly if the need arose.

I let myself into Jay's house and headed directly for the safe in the basement. I knew the combination... my birthday. I slowly turned the dial, first to the month, the day, the year that made up the numerical code to unlock the beast of a safe. Once the telltale click unlatched the locking mechanism, I withdrew the necessary funds. Better safe than sorry, so I estimated and took out five stacks of bound bills. Twenty thousand total.

Driving along the empty, sleepy streets of Chisolm, I couldn't help but think of the irony. I'd been eighteen years old for barely three months. And I'd already had to bail Butch and Tiny out once each. This was the first time I'd had to make the midnight run for Jay, though. Practice makes perfect, though. We'd gone over the drill more than enough times for me to be comfortable making my way through the steps, though.

Tiny and Jay appeared through a large set of doors and neither one gave me as much as a sideways glance before stopping at the front desk and gathering their things. It was inevitable that I'd seen them both without their cuts from time to time. But it hit me as odd, seeing them here in jeans and black sweatshirts, no patch anywhere in sight.

I sat back, crossed my arms tightly across my chest and patiently waited for the stalling to end. They were both doing a pretty shitty job of trying to avoid me. I had the car, I had the keys. Unless they planned on walking home, and I was tempted to make them, they had to deal with me sooner or later. I bid my time.

Facing the music, they both headed over to me, like two little boys caught doing something naughty.

“Howdy, fellas. Fancy meeting you here.” I speak out to them.

Tiny bends down to give me a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, sis.”

I gave him a halfhearted smile, before turning my attention to the hulking man towering over me who's decided to speak. “Can we leave, please?”

There was a strain to his voice, an uncomfortableness that usually didn't make it's way into our world. I was obvious he didn't plan to add any diatribe to his less-than-perfect greeting, so I gathered my bag and stormed off leaving the two of them to follow.

My Honda was small, and I had no doubt that neither one of them was going to be able to fit comfortably within. They never had, but I couldn’t recall having both of them inside it at the same time. The compact car dipped low with the added weight of the two huge men and I felt the added strain on the already weakened four cylinders, but we moved along. Silence. I'm not a fan of the whole not talking thing.

“You two want to tell me what happened?” I asked aloud to neither one in particular.

Uncomfortable grunts and shifting stir in the back seat as Tiny wrestled with an answer. Jay beat him to it.

“Just a misunderstanding. Let's drop it.”

I darted my eyes between the road and Jay's bruting form in the front passenger seat. Great. He's in a mood. I pulled up in front of his house and stayed still. I can see Tiny in the rearview mirror, wrestling with whether to follow Jay out of the car or not.

Jay stood outside the opened door waiting for some action or signal as to what direction this was moving.

“You gonna stay the night?” he asked, a touch gentler than his prickish self from a moment ago.

I stared forward at some interesting imaginary object on my dashboard. “Nope. I'm good.”

Tiny huffed and slinked back into the loud springs of the backseat, probably cursing himself for getting in the middle of a lovers; quarrel.

“You really gonna do this? I had my ass almost locked up and you're gonna pull your crap now, too?” Jay spit out.

Oh, he did not!

“You're damn right I'm gonna do this! Whatever the fuck that means. You two dicks woke me up in the middle of the fucking night to come bail your asses out of JAIL! Not only do I not deserve the bullshit answer you gave me, but I also deserve a little gratitude. So you sleep on that, Jay!”

I reached across the empty seat and pulled the passenger door closed, hard. Jay quickly pulled back his hands, so as not to get caught in the moving machinery, and I gunned the gas pedal, leaving him stunned on the sidewalk as we drive away.

We made it home in silence, Tiny not willing to press his luck and risk joining Jay on my shit list. The house is lit up, with almost every window illuminated as we pull into the drive. So much for pop catching a good night's sleep.

“You two all right?” he called out from the kitchen table as we enter.

I laughed to myself. When the hell is anyone in this family ever “all right”.

Pop put down his coffee mug and eyed me. I gave in.

“Just another day in the life of the MC.” I spewed out sarcastically. “I'm going to try and catch a little sleep before the next shit storm.”

Pop’s house was in no way large. I could hear a low-toned mumble from the kitchen as I reach my bedroom. “Trouble in paradise?”

I tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. Punching my pillow didn't seem to help. At that rate I'd never fall asleep. Could I live my life like this? I was young enough where I have a good long while ahead of me. Did I want to spend them bailing out my man, not even being given the decency of an honest answer as to why? Worrying about him, waiting for the other shoe to drop, and the one time an officer is going to tell me something other than “the charges have been dropped”? What then? I'd seen what happened when your old man got sent away. I'd seen what it did to my mom. There wasn’t one ol’ lady in the club that hadn't been left alone for some time or another, even Jean, while their old man was sent away. I think Clink's the only one that'd never been away. Those were some really shitty odds.

Deciding to abandon my unsuccessful quest for sleep, I ventured out into the main area of the house. The sun may not have been rising yet, but technically, it was morning. Couldn't hurt to get a jump start on some coffee.

A soft glow from the kitchen was spilling out into the dark before me. I wasn’t alone this sleepless night, was I? Tiny sat at the kitchen table reading yesterday's paper.

“Sup, big brother? Can't sleep either?”

I made my way to the half-filled coffee pot and poured myself a cup. I wasn’t sure who made the pot, Pop or Tiny, so I decided to play it safe and put an extra heaping spoonful of sugar in it. Pop's coffee tasted like liquid tar.

“You want me to make a fresh pot?” My brother asked.

I took a long, cautious sip while taking the empty seat next to him.

Pop didn't make it. “It's good.”

Tiny lets the paper fall to the table. “You still pissed?”

That was a rhetorical question. “Not sure. At least I don't have to see anyone in cuffs, this time.”

“He didn't want me to call you.” Tiny begins. “He didn't want you to see him there. We weren't sure if the charges were going to be dropped or not, and Jay was pissed that you would be there.”

I held my cup between my palms and rolled it lightly back and forth. “Well, isn't that nice. You two go off, doing whatever you do, with no consideration for where it could land you and who will have to clean up the mess. If he didn't want me there, then why didn't he call Vince?”

Tiny blurts out, “It wasn't club business. Vince would have kicked our asses. We needed to keep it quiet.”

Oh really? Since when did the two of them have something going on the side?

“You two are going rogue now? Getting busy behind the club's back?” This shit is just getting worse.

“What? No! We... we...” Tiny wrestled with himself on how much to divulge. He eyed me, gauging how far he should go.

I'd had it. My patience had run out.

“Spill it! Before I tell the both of you to fuck off and never bother me again.”

He blew out his unease. “It was just a little fight, Lil's. Kind of got out of hand and some dip shit called the cops.”

“A little fight? You were shot a few months ago, Tiny! You're still healing! What business do you have fighting anyone? And you two weren't wearing your cuts. I'm not stupid. You two were doing something that you didn't want to fall back on the club.”

My brother was becoming defensive. “I wasn't fighting, Lil's. We just went there to clean the place out. Drive the message home to those preppy fuckers. Some pansy started to swing at Jay.”

Funny, I didn't see any bruises on Jay. He looked just as rugged and handsomely hot as he always did.

“And what message were you driving home to those preppy fuckers?”

Tiny bit his lip, holding himself back. I gave up and pushed myself away from the table.

“Fine! Alright... it was the fraternity house where you got drunk a little while back. Jay and I went there the next day and tore the place up. We found a shitload of pills. Beat the kids senseless and warned them not to have any more parties. They were slipping shit into girl's drinks.”

I eyed him suspiciously as he told his tale.

“Vince found out and tore us a new one. It could have caused a backlash in town about us going apeshit on some of the local college boys. We found out they started having parties again, and some freshman girl was admitted to the ER with date rape drugs in her system. She can't remember what happened... but she knows something happened...”

I swallowed hard. “And you two went over there again to finish things?”

He nodded.

I dropped my head back and shook it. I didn't condone violence, but I knew it had a very real place in my world. In Jay's world. I couldn't just overlook the terrible, but I had to objectively balance it out. They may have originally gone over there to protect or redeem me, but they went back to protect others.

I leaned down and gave Tiny a hug, barely able to wrap my arms around his width.

“Thanks, Tiny. You're a great big brother.” I kissed him on the cheek and hurried to brush my teeth and quickly change.

******

The door was unlocked as I entered, things were dead quiet inside. It was still early to most. I'd already had my morning run and showered, but most people were still sound asleep in their beds. I slipped off my shoes and placed them neatly next to Jay's boots. His leather cut was hung over the stair banister. I trailed my fingers over the soft, cool leather. A gentle weight pulls on my heart as I trailed over each of the patches. Jay earned each of these with his sweat and loyalty... even his blood when necessary. Yet last night, he was willing to give all of those same things, with nothing to gain other than a sense of doing the right things. No patches, no glory. Just peace of mind.

I treaded softly down the hallway. The bedroom door was open wide and I saw the bare back of the man I love with his gorgeously sexy tattoo welcoming me. He may have left his leather home last night, but he’d never be able to escape it. It was as much a part of him as that ink was. I needed to learn to come to peace with it, with everything that came with it. I just hoped I could, for both our sakes.

The blankets were twisted and curled around his sleeping form, evidence of an uneasy sleep. I peeled my sweater off and let it fall silently to the floor. I hooked my thumbs around the elastic waistband of my yoga pants and see-sawed them down my legs until they were nothing more than a puddle around my feet, and I stepped free of them.

Jay's chest rose and fell evenly, expanding with every breath. The empty glass and half full bottle of brandy by the bedside table gave an explanation to his deep sleep. Placing my knee on the mattress I gently crawled over to him until our bodies were touching. The fevered heat of his skin warmed me, encouraging me to get closer. I wrapped my arms around him, spreading my flesh over his.

He began to stir ever so slightly. I raised my leg to intertwine between his own, resting my hip over his hard but perfect ass. His boxers moved with my motion. Placing my aching lips onto the small of his back, I pursed them together. Kissing the taut muscular body beneath me, I breathed in his scent, tasting the slight saltiness of his skin.

Mapping my way around his broad back, kissing each bulging muscle deeply, I began to hear the moaning being muffled in the pillows.

“Mmm....” he let out, just audible enough for me to hear.

I raised myself up and slid over his skin until I was settled on his back, nuzzling into his neck.

“I love you...” I whispered into his ear, before taking the slope of his lobe into my mouth and pressing it between my lips, sucking on it.

A groggy, heavy voice wafted out, “You almost ran over my foot.”

I laughed into his hair. “Make love to me, Jay.”

With little to no warning, Jay rolled over purposely, moving me under him and covering my lips and answering my plea with his waking body. His hands slipped under my back and played with the clasp between my shoulder blades, working to free my chest for himself.

His efforts proved successful and by boobs sprung to life, as he buried his face, losing his words as he devoured my breasts. His hands kept busy, though, as he worked them down to my thin, barely-there string lace panties. He fisted them at each hip, and lifted his lips.

“Why do you even wear these? They're nothing more than dental floss.”

I smirked, eyeing him as he stared at me hungrily. “So you have something to take off, baby.”

He crashed his lips into mine, thrusting his tongue in harshly. I could feel his need hardening even more than it already was, pressing into my leg. He pulled his hands down, forcing my thong down with them, between my legs. I could feel the moistness of them on my own skin.

Jay plunged his finger into me, pointing up into my core as his thumb circled its way around my prickled bundling. Straining to reach down, my fingertips searched for his boxers just out of reach as our tongues wrestled. I pushed myself against him, arching myself and gaining the necessary inch to tug on his briefs, stopping mid-thigh as I could reach no further.

His own hand picked up where mine left off and maneuvered the cotton barrier away from us.

“I'm still pissed that you almost ran over my foot.”

He swiftly removed his busy lower hand, uncorking me just long enough to thrust his cock in hard. I yelped my pleasure aloud before he covered my mouth with his own, and masterfully rode both of my entrances.

His weight proved heavy for me as I struggled to fill my lungs, my moans stifled with gasps. Jay unlatched his lips from mine, swooping himself up to sit on his knees, taking care to keep us connected. He may be the one to have just woken up, but his eyes are wide and alert while I had no doubt mine were in fact dreamy.

Pressing my knees up and folding them in, he leaned forward again towering over me. Propped up on his forearms, pinning my thighs high against me, he gained just a touch more clearance to bring us closer, deeper into each other. The extra closeness came with a price, though, as his lips were now far from mine.

I bit my bottom lip aching to use them in some way. His finger reached up and swiped across my imprisoned lip, freeing it from my teeth. I latched on to his finger, instead, tasting his muskiness and suck it intensely as I whimpered away the growing pressure between my thighs. Jay doubled his efforts at the sudden example of the depth of my own need. My lower legs bounced freely with the rippled impact from every pounding he delivered. I released his finger quickly, allowing me to to throw back my head and scream my release.

My muscles contracted over and again, no opportunity given for them to calm themselves as Jay ground into me. His morning stamina was insane, proving me to be an amateur compared to him. Even though his kisses were deep, I felt my mouth drying out from the lack of body fluid. The stubble on his chin chaffed my cheeks raw, but I needed it to continue, to never end.

Several moments later, the telltale quick breathing in my ear signaled he was close. It was time to bring it on home. I clenched myself tight around him, hugging his delicious dick with every inch it touched, and milked his orgasm from him. He grabbed hold of my knees to steady himself as his body betrayed him and spasmed violently.

I held him tight, rubbing over the sudden bumpy roughness of his skin as his chills set in. Weakened, he barely managed to roll himself over, his dick still partially inserted, holding me close to rest on his chest. Our bodies calmed themselves, and my hazy vision began to clear. The sun was almost fully risen now and the soft shadows were disappearing from the walls. I traced my fingers delicately over Jay's skin as he massaged my bottom with his palm and he held me tight.

“I'm sorry.” He surprised me. We didn't usually talk in these sweet moments right after claiming each other.

I raised my chin, looking up at him. His eyes were closed tight, as if he was in pain. “I didn't want you to see me there. I never want you to see me in a place like that, Lil's.”

I breathed hard. He felt the need to finish his thought. “It's bad enough you've seen your pop and Tiny in that spot before. I want to be better than that, for you.”

I kissed his chest repeatedly. “It's who you are, Jay. I know that. There are going to be times when you need to lean on me, need to let me in if you need help. You can't be too proud to do that. Promise me.”

Many seconds passed, in silence. “I can't promise that Lil's. But I promise I can try.”

I settled back down next to him and snuggled in close. That's all I could ask for. I just hoped I was strong enough to handle it.

CHAPTER NINE

NOW

Chris opens the metal door for me as I step into a room almost identical to the one in which I was questioned, the last time I was here. Jay is seated at the rectangular table dressed in orange cotton clothes similar to doctor scrubs. He stares at me as I fully enter the room and take the seat across from him. Chris quietly closes the door behind me, giving us some privacy.

“I see you still can't follow directions,” he says sarcastically. “It's done Lil's. There's nothing to say about it now.”

I fold my hands gently across one another, occupying them to hide my nervousness.

“Really? Well, if you've got nothing to say, then sit back and do some listening, instead.”

His eyes widen at the command. Maybe it's our sudden predicament, but I'm emboldened. Call it a power trip. We don't usually have situations where Jay has no choice other than to let me go off on him.

“Let's go over the facts here. You went behind my back, arranged for all this...” I gesture my arms wide, emphasizing the bare room around us. “Took everything I cared about away from me without so much as a conversation?”

Jay sits back and crosses his arms defiantly. “I know what you would have said, would have done, if I told you, Lil's. I know you.”

I smirk. “Oh really? How well do you know me, Jay? What am I going to do now, if you know me so well?”

A flash of confusion crosses over him. Briefly, but I still see it before it's hidden under his smart ass grin.

I lean forward as if about to whisper. “I'll tell you what I'm about to do. I know where Vicky is.”

Fear floods his face.

“I'm going to go get her, bring her back here, and get your ass out of this hellhole,” I reveal my plan.

Anger fills the voids in his eyes.

“You will not!” He seethes. “I forbid it! Lil's, I swear to God, you let the club handle it!”

“Yeah” I spit out. “’Cause they've done such a great job so far... right?”

He slams his palms down hard on the metal surface, pushing himself up from the table.

“Why can't you ever just do as you're told?” The vein on his neck pops violently against his flushing skin.

I shake my head. “Like a good little ol' lady? Like a good little wife?” I say sarcastically with baby voice, and all. “You're not in this alone anymore, Jay.” I say soberly. “We exchanged vows... and you don't have the authority to make decisions like this on your own anymore!”

Chris rushes into the room, alerted from the recent commotion within the room, no doubt. This seems to only anger Jay further.

“I mean it, Lil's...” his voice suddenly calms as he struggles against himself to maintain some sort of composure. “You have one job right now. Something that I can't do for you... you have to keep the baby safe.”

I walk around the table without a second thought. Chris moves to step closer, but I hold him off with a quick glare. He pauses, but I can see he is still on high alert. Jay is shaking, he is so mad, but I don't hesitate to reach out and hold his face in my palms.

His eyes are wide, furious. It shakes me to my core. I reach up on my tiptoes and plant a gentle kiss on his stiff lips as he holds himself rigid.

“I'll be careful, I swear. I'll keep her safe... and her daddy.”

I turn around and stalk out of the room, willing myself to continue, not to look back... even as I hear the table toppling over and the chair being thrown. The sounds of body impacting metal cause me to flinch, but I walk on down the hall. His screaming protests fill the space and all personnel rush past me to handle the disturbance.

I hear him scream my name over and over, but I must keep on. A tear rolls down my cheek at the sound of his voice echoing in my ears, pleading for me. The sooner I get this over with, the sooner he'll be home with me, I mentally tell myself over and over. I clutch myself tight, holding onto my midsection.

The sooner he'll be home with us.

******

The car hums along silently, with both Jess and Chris remaining silent. My hands have stilled, the nervous shaking having subsided. The events of the day have exhausted me, leaving me hollow inside. I'm too numb to acknowledge the feelings I know should be brewing inside. I'd never stood up to Jay like that before. Sure, I can be a pain in the ass... and cause him a shitload of grief when I want to. But I've never defied him before. Not when it's been about something that actually mattered. The patchwork plan I am able to piece together is missing one major component. One piece that could throw it all to hell and leave me back at square one with nothing but empty intentions in my hands.

Charlie wasn't able to get me an exact location for Vicky until after my visit with Jay. The amount of relief and gratitude that coursed through me when I was given my cell phone back and scrolled through to see her message, will never be duplicated. It was as if it was my own freedom, not Jay's that was being given a second chance.

Not wanting to chance the message being intercepted or hacked into, she simply texted me that she had found what I was looking for and to stop by the hospital to take it off her hands. It was a good idea, considering she had just broken the law and stuck her neck on the line for me. We don't need a digital trail leading right to her door in case things go to shit, now do we?

I know from my visits to the OB department, that Charlie is usually stationed nearby on the next floor. Chris puts up a bit of an argument when I tell him to wait in the mail hall. We have an understanding, but that doesn't necessarily mean we trust each other. I leave Jess behind with him to soften the blow to his ego.

The nurses dart around carrying clipboards and light medical equipment, their pastel-colored uniforms offering a friendly easter-like atmosphere to the place. I nod greetings to a few familiar faces and search the rooms for the one I'm looking for. I find her before long, chatting with an orderly in a corner. She spots me and bids farewell to her co-worker.

“Hey, Lil's.” She leans in and pecks me on the cheek. “You left your chart here the other day.”

This woman could never be an actress. She speaks louder than usual, and appears awkwardly fidgety. Not natural at all. I smile at her. She's a good friend. A bad actress, but a good friend.

“Uh... yeah! Thanks, Charlie.” I overact to match her ridiculous tone.

Her sandy brown hair is pulled back tight in a ponytail, showcasing her full face. I've never seen her full features before without long hair cascading around them. She's very pretty... beautiful, even. I can see what drew Clink in... but, it's more than that. Clink has never had a problem getting a gorgeous girl before. Looks can only take you so far, though. Charlie has the whole package to keep Clink around when he decides to look beyond the mere physical gifts she was given.

She leads me over to the central nurses station and unlocks a medium-sized drawer labeled “Charlie.” She removes a large pile of stacked manila file charts and sorts through them until she settles on one inconspicuous file simply labeled “L.”

I don't dare open it here. Instead, I clutch it tight to myself, and pull Charlie in close.

“You will never know how much I appreciate this.”

She nods her understanding and straightens herself up, regaining her composure as a fellow nurse walks by and eyes us.

“Ladies’ room?” I ask her, looking around for any obvious universal skirted stick-figured door sign.

She points to a door diagonally down the hall from us. I smile my appreciation once again, and then rush off to the privacy of the ladies’ bathroom. Locking the door behind me, I lean up against the closed wooden entryway and breathe deeply. I hadn't thought this far ahead, and I take a second to plan my next few steps.

Opening the front jacket of the file, I eye the photocopied paper inside as if it were a treasure map. In a way it is, for nothing could be as valuable as this right now. I commit the name and address to memory using an old trick I learned in a study prep class from high school. It's how I've always retained pieces of information to recall for exams. Once I'm certain I have it down pat, I take a deep breath, close my eyes tight, and pull at the letter-sized document in my hand. Ripping and tearing, I form dozens and dozens of tiny white scraps. I dispose of them in the toilet and use my foot to press the handle down, initiating the flush and disappearance of the incriminating evidence.

I toss the indescript empty file into the trash can and lead myself back out to the hall. Charlie is pretending to peruse files while casting her gaze repeatedly upward, waiting for my reappearance. I give her a quick “thumbs-up” while passing and move to meet Jess and Chris.

Once again, that uncomfortable “third wheel” feeling starts to envelop me as I approach the giggling, googly eyed pair.

“Ahem...” I announce my arrival.

They both stand taller, almost immediately.

“Did you get it?” Chris prods.

I had brought him up to speed with my intentions earlier after they had contained Jay's outburst. I knew I won't be able to do this alone, and a little extra backup never hurt. He was all too eager to help and couldn't pass up the opportunity to make a pretty big arrest. I'm sure this will look more than impressive on his record.

“I got it,” I concede.

Chris pushes past Jess, who has suddenly become invisible to him.

“Well... where is it?” he wonders aloud. “Give it here and I'll be on my way.”

I shake my head. “That’s not how this is going to work.”

Chris looks confused, visibly processing and digesting my assessment. “Say again?”

Interested in our exchange, Jess moves in to hear my words.

“I destroyed it. And don't bother going to try and find it. I can assure you my informant has hidden all traces of it.”

“Wha-...? Why would you do that, Lil's? I thought you wanted Chris to find this stripper chick?” Jess is confused.

I stand firm.

“I do. But I want to make sure it happens. I'm going with him. I'll take Chris to her and he can do what he needs to do from there.”

Chris tries to contain his anger for the purpose of public decency as hospital visitors crowd the hallway en route to their own destinations.

“What are you trying to do here, Lil's? You gonna double cross me?”

I smile halfheartedly. “Not at all. Just trying to make sure you don't.”

Chris stands speechless. Jess doesn't.

“Yes! A road trip! This is gonna be great.”

Pretty Boy and I turn our confused looks to the third person in our conversation.

“What?” she asks. “No way can you be alone with him, Lil's. Jay is really gonna loose his shit if he finds that out.” Not waiting for any type of agreement, she marches past us and calls back. “Let's go slow pokes. We've already lost enough time!”

Chris and I eye each other in mutual suspicion and astonishment. While we were both trying to get one up on the other, Jess managed to swoop in and rattle us both while procuring a little more quality time for their budding romance. Great. Maybe we can pass notes and they can play the whole “Do you like me? or Do you like, like me?” game.

This road trip is gonna suck ass.

******

My back hurts, my legs hurts. My ass hurts. Jess's car is comfortable and all, but sitting still for ten hours of driving will beat you up. Thank God Jess suggested... hell, insisted... that we take her car. Rolling into town in a generic, undercover-looking car is sure to raise some red flags in small-town USA Tourville, Texas.

The ride has been exhausting, but we are barely more than halfway there. Pulling into the first decent-looking motel we find, we secure two rooms and head off in each of our prospective directions. Girls on the second floor in a double room, while Chris has a single on the ground floor. It's beyond late, and all I want to do is to throw myself on one of the queen-sized beds, but the oversized bathtub is calling to me.

Other than bra size, Jess and I are identical. She generously offers to loan me some clothes until we get to our final destination in Texas where I'll buy some things to tide me over. It is a great alternative so I don't have to risk heading back to Jay's house. Well... I guess it's officially my house now.

I work the porcelain handles to begin filling the tub with overly-warm rushing water and begin to strip, preparing myself for the heaven that awaits me. Waiting for the bath to fill completely before I get in, I hand wash my underthings and drape them over the towel bar to air dry.

Knock, knock.

“I'm gonna go down to the lobby bar and see of they have a late-night menu, Lil's. I'm starving. Do you want me to bring you back something?”

Usually it's the pregnant lady who's always hungry. Jess could out-eat me any day of the week. Knocked up or not.

“Nah...” I call out through the heavy closed door. “I'm still stuffed from dinner. Thanks, though.”

The room quickly fills with rising steam, and I dangle my toes over the water, testing the temperature. “I'm just gonna take a quick soak and then hit the sack.”

Satisfied that the water is just the right level of oh my God I could fall asleep in here, I slip in and slide myself down until the warm liquid envelops me within.

“’Kay. I'll see you in the morning then.” Jess's voice trails off as she moves further away from the bathroom door. The telltale thudding of the main door confirms that she has in fact left, and given me the peace and quiet I crave.

I'm not sure who talks more, Jess or Chris. I've had to listen to the both of them ramble on about everything from favorite bands to must-see movies for hours on end. The quiet is inviting. I close my eyes and lose myself in the glorious comfort the bath offers. It may not be nearly as luxurious as my claw foot tub back home, but it'll do just fine tonight.

Time slips by as absentminded thoughts waft in and out of my consciousness. I stretch my sore muscles, searching for the sweet spot that will dull their ache. The water begins to cool itself as the night grows later. My fingers are pruned and growing pale. Calmed and soothed, I crawl from my bath, dry and wrap myself in a blanket-sized towel, and slip into the plush bed nearest me.

I will not be dreaming tonight, exhaustion guaranteeing a deep level of sleep ahead of me. I welcome it. For my own sanity, I cannot visit the thoughts that plague me. There's always tomorrow for that. Tonight... I just need... sleep.

******

“And, where were you last night?”

Jess is not prepared for my question. She looks around, settles her eyes on her nails and fixates on some small chip in her perfect manicure.

“Hmmm?”

I move closer to her, bowing down to catch her eyes as they try so purposely to avoid me.

“Jess?”

“What?” She gets defensive. “I... Oh, stop! I'm an adult.”

I shake my head and help gather the clothes scattered about the room. We've been here for a grand total of eight or so hours, yet we've managed to turn the place into your stereotypical girl's room complete with clothes piles and makeup buffet.

We all know I'm not the driving force behind this stereotypical behavior. Jess is all about glam today. Finally satisfied with her chosen style, she allows us to clear out and head down to the breakfast area.

Dropping our things at an unoccupied table, I attack the breakfast layout, heaping piles of yummy deliciousness. I'm just about finished with my first plate and am ready to make a repeat visit to the pancake station when Chris decides to grace us with his presence.

I greet him with a mouth full of scrambled eggs as he pulls up a seat, fixing his own cup of coffee. I notice Jess taking a sudden keen interest in the gooey pastry in her hand, and not the handsome sleep-deprived man joining our meal. Hmmm...

If the two of them are going to play this game, I might as well have some fun of my own. I barely know Chris, Pretty Boy, Special Agent Gibson... or whatever he wants to call himself these days. Let's see what he's made of.

“You look damn tired there, Chris.” He grunts his agreement with my findings. “Didn't sleep well?” Another grunt.

Time to step it up a notch. “Jess?...” I bite the inside of my cheek to hold in my smile. “Did he sleep well?”

Chris showers his place setting with coffee, taken aback by my bluntness. Jess drops her muffin, and stares at the crumbs in shock. That's more like it.

“Aww... don't worry kids.” I wink at both of them. “Your secret's safe with me. Just play safe and don't start grossing me out with PDA.”

I leave the not-so clandestine lovers to themselves and make another round of the breakfast buffet, packing up a little care package for the road.

******

Ugh. It's like a Goddamned oven. Tourville, Texas, is like one giant convection oven full of grease and someone lit a match. I need AC, like... pronto! Jess and I find that relief in the interior of the nearest ladies’ shop. where I quickly purchase a few outfits and necessities to tide me over. Vey light weight, loose-fitting cotton pieces that won't suffocate me any more than this sweltering heat already has.

Chris was pretty surprised at our final destination, simply following my turn by turn directions as I followed the prompts on my cell phone navigation app. Not trusting him to ditch us at the first opportunity, and go searching for his perp on his own, I've kept the information limited and on a need-to-know basis. According to the welcome sign that greeted us as we passed into town through the main road, the population of this “Tiny Texas Treasure” (their words, not mine) is 7,409. Make that 7,410 now that a certain silicone slut is in town.

The exact street address of the tramp is safely tucked away in my memory, only to be given up at the very last possible moment. Until then, Chris is none too happy to follow directions and make himself useful by procuring us a couple of hotel rooms to shower up and make a home base.

Chris joins us as we exit the quaint clothing store and immediately makes a grab for the parcels. Ah... so he's a gentleman. I walk slightly ahead of my new bellboy, and call back to him.

“Someone's momma raised him right! Very nice, Jess.”

The receptionist at the small bed and breakfast-styled inn that Chris found for us, greets us warmly.

“Mr. Gibson... your rooms are ready.” He holds out two metal keys for us.

I reach out and swipe both of them, turning to my two companions. “Let's not play the same game as last night, hmm? You two take this one,” I hand Jess the key in my right hand, “and I'll get some peace and quiet not wondering where my good friend has run off to.”

******

A cold shower is just what the doctor ordered. I slip into some of my new clothes, a gauzy little sundress and some cowboy boots. When in Rome, right? Leaving my still-damp hair loose to air dry, I pray that it won't frizz, but bring a back up clip just in case.

With Jess and Chris nowhere in sight, I wander down through the comfortably coordinated main lounge. The owners have a penchant for plaid and wallpaper, as the rooms are seamlessly decorated with both. Helping myself to a glass of iced tea and a few cookies from a large silver platter, I head out to one of the massive looking wooden rockers on the front porch.

The sun hangs low in the afternoon sky. Another long day of driving. But, we've finally made it. We're so close and yet not nearly where we need to be. I need this to be over, with that bitch rotting away behind bars. I need Jay to be home, with me, doing some random normal thing that I'll never take for granted again.

A sleepy-looking Jess joins me on the porch, choosing to occupy the hanging wooden love seat swing.

“The iced tea is fantastic,” I inform her.

She eyes my glass appreciatively, but shows no sign of getting her own.

“Have you seen Chris? He was gone when I woke up.”

I stop myself, mid-gulp. “What do you mean, he was gone? Did you two have an argument or something.”

Jess's cheeks begin to shade themselves crimson. “No... we... after we fell asleep, he just left.”

I stand quickly, perhaps too quickly. The unrelenting heat around us socks it to me, and I feel a dizzy spell taunt me.

“That son of a bitch! He's going to look for Vicky without us.”

Moving to the slightly cooler, although not properly air-conditioned, interior of the building, I approach the front desk. Surrendering my emptied tumbler to her, I ask the oddest of questions.

“Does this town have a strip club? Where can I find it?”

She looks at me, dumbfounded by my bluntness. I am in God’s country after all. Deep-south God country. While every one of these towns has at least one booming strip club, it's probably not something good little girls go asking to find.

“Umm... your friend. The gentleman that you came with already asked me that same question.”

I knew it! Damn little fucker can't bear to sit tight and take orders from a little lady. He needs to step up and steal the show.

“It's over on Hampton Street. Doesn't open for a little while, though. We've got laws for keeping it closed till sundown.”

I'm sure they do. I'd bet a fistful of hundreds that those same men who passed those laws, are some of the establishment's best customers. Hypocrites.

“Thank you,” I reply.

Jess and I split up momentarily to retrieve our handbags from our respective rooms, and meet once again on the front porch.

“What do we do now, Jules?” she prods.

I take a deep breath. I had originally planned to send Chris and Jess in as a couple. An appealingly sexually adventurous couple visiting a strip club together. Now that plan's shot to hell. I can't very well send Jess in by herself. On one hand, I think she'd probably die of embarrassment, having all those people think she was the “sort of girl” to go there alone. Second, that would draw attention to herself in an unwanted way. I needed them to be completely incognito, so as not to spook Vicky only to have her take off.

A cleaned-up Chris, looks very different from the pretty boy Vicky would remember, especially in the dark of a strip club, but I didn't want to take any chances. If he were there with a female companion, like Jess, he would have been able to hide his face in conversation with her. Damn him!

“I don't know, Jess. We can't very well go strutting in there. She knows me. She'll run the second she sees me. And... I promised Jay I wouldn't get too close.”

Jess takes a deep breath, searching her fingernails, her shoes, for some magical answer.

“But...” it appears she may have found one somewhere in-between, “she doesn't know me... I could get close and then trip her up long enough for Chris to swoop in.”

I eye her suspiciously. Thoughts of Em suddenly flash before me. I can't ask another one of my friends to put herself in that kind of danger. I couldn't live with it. It was one thing for her to just help Chris get into the place. It was another thing entirely for her to get close to Vicky. The woman is a murderer after all. Chris is a trained law enforcement officer. Jess is a trained serial shopper and social debutante.

“No... I can't let you do that. It's way too dangerous, Jess,” I protest.

Jess waives me off with a graceful twirl of her hand. “Don't be silly, Jules. We haven't got much of a choice here. I mean, it's the perfect cover.”

I'm lost. “What's the perfect cover?”

She smiles. “Places like that are always looking for new talent, right? How hard can it be to swing around a pole and take men's money?”

My eyes widen. Holy shit.

“Jess... I don't know about that. It takes.... you're too much of a good girl.”

Jess raises her chin in pride. “Oh, I can be a bad girl, Jules. You have no idea....”

CHAPTER TEN

JESSICA

So, this is what one of these places looks like. Hmm, who knew? Well, actually, most of the male population probably knows. But, it's not exactly the type of conversation that weaves its way into the chatter over at the yacht club.

It was easier than I had anticipated to get into, though. They should really rethink their security around here. These girls are probably walking out with hundreds of dollars a night. I know daddy always says the first rule to running a successful business is to cover all bases and protect your product. Theoretically, these girls are a type of product. After this is all over, I should really recommend one of daddy's consulting firms to the manager.

If I ever even get to meet him. I've been waiting in this damn office for nearly thirty minutes waiting for him to grace me with his presence. The bouncer at the door gave me a pretty thorough once-over before leading me back here. The manager's office was deep in the back of the place. I had tried to search the crowd of Stetson hats and shadowed faces while walking through, but the main room was too dark to spot him from afar.

The office I find myself in is not much brighter. The longer I sit and wait, the more I ponder the business model this place must follow. It must be a cash cow. Although catering to a slightly unsavory crowd, there could be opportunity in an operation like this. I'll have to talk about some possibilities to daddy about investing in a club like this.

The door behind me opens, with a rush of music following. “Hello there, darlin'. Jose’ tells me you're interested in some work.”

I don't need to turn to face the approaching voice, as he quickly passes me and seats himself behind the paper-cluttered desk before me. The slick looking suit seems new, the Stetson old. He appears to be in his mid-forties or so, clean shaven, piercing eyes. All around sleezeball in a nice package.

I clear my throat and perk up my chest a little.

“I'm Candy.” I reach my hand out to greet the gentleman, and I use that term loosely.

He leans slightly over his mounding desk and takes hold of my hand. “The pleasure is all mine, little lady.” He tugs my hand closer to him and plants his moist lips onto the back of my hand. He lingers there a tad too long, and I swear I feel the pressure of his slimy tongue on my skin. I wriggle my hand free and reclaim it. He chuckles a little at my obvious discomfort.

“The name’s Nick. Friends call me Nicky Fishy. Employees don't. Do you have any experience, darling?”

I raise my head smartly, while wiping the back of my hand on my skirt. “I do. I've been attending stripper cardio classes over at Pump Fitness for three years.”

Nick the Fish flashes a wicked, knowing smile. “Ah... I thought you looked a little wet behind the ears.”

I stir slightly, not knowing whether to take that as a compliment.

“I'm a nice guy, though. You've got that well-bred, society, good girl thing going for you. My customers are gonna eat that up. I'll give you a try. One of my regulars just got knocked up, gonna be out of rotation for a little while. You can have her spot if all goes well tonight. Let's make it official, shall we?”

My eyes light up. I think that was a formal job offer. Nick makes his way around the table.

“Stand up, little lady.” I oblige him. I hold my hand out in customary fashion. Nick promptly drops to his knees in front of me. “Throw your leg up on my shoulder, darlin'.”

I panic. What? Is he serious? My attempts to hide my panic go unnoticed.

“Relax, girl... just checking out the grooming situation. We have strict guidelines around these parts.”

I swallow hard. There's a lot riding on this. Julia is depending on me, so is Jay. I can't let them down.

I carefully slip my right foot back out of my sandal and place it lightly on Nick's shoulder. He smiles, an evil, distorted smile. He casually removes his hat and throws it onto the nearby couch. I can see a balding patch dead center of his greasy, slicked-back hair.

“That's it, darlin', open wide for daddy to take a look see. Make sure the goods are up to par. I stretch my hips just as far as the tight confines of my skirt will allow.

Nick dips his head low to clear the hemline and the forefront of his face disappears under it. I hear a loud swishing sound, followed almost immediately by a warm sticky breeze up my inner thighs. The bastard is sniffing me.

“Mmmm. That's top notch snatch right there.”

He quickly reappears and stands tall in front of me, darkness covering his eyes as they play a wicked dance over my body.

“I don't usually hold the final interview until after I've seen you on stage, but I think I need to make an exception this one time.”

I hear a distinct unzipping sound as Nick’s shoulders move. I cannot bring myself to lower my gaze to see what his hands are doing. The deep knot in the pit of my stomach tells me what's happening without having to look.

“Let's get to it,” he says nonchalantly. “You've got to finish up and get ready for your set.”

Hell no. Jules and Chris will just have to find another way. A quick knock at the door, breaks the tension and saves Nick the Fish from a swift kick in the nuts.

“Boss... we got a high roller looking for a one night special with Vicky.”

Jose’ enters the room, with a large shadowy figure behind him, lurking in the shadow of the hallway. Nick promptly lifts himself, tucking and zipping his crotch up.

“Shit, boy! I told you I'm in the middle of an interview here,” Nick reprimands him. I thank my lucky stars for the intrusion.

Jose’ barely looks flustered at the apparent scene he just interrupted.

“Sorry, Boss.”

Nick picks up his Stetson and returns it to its place on his skeevy little head.

“Whatever. We'll continue this later,” he assures me.

“Jose’,” he now turns his attention to the interloper. “This here is Candy. She's new. Show her the dressing room and get her ready to take Vixen's spot.”

I swallow hard and creep past, out of Nick's clutches to the entryway. My heart stops when I hear the voice.

“I think after I take a turn with this Vicky I've been hearing about, I'll try this one, too.”

Oh God, no.

I look up into Chris's eyes. I barely know him, nothing but a couple of nights and some weird connection under our belts, but I can read his eyes. Anger. He hates that I'm here. His harsh hand swoops out and roughly grabs my breast. His thumb jabs in through the opening between buttons on my blouse and finds its way to my hardened nipple.

“Excuse me, sir.” I try to hide the shivers working their way through my body at his touch.

“Just testing out the merchandise, sweetheart.”

He promptly pinches my nipple between his finger pads, hard enough to try an illicit some response. I don't give him the satisfaction. He does it again, harder. Oh, God. My eyes roll back, forgetting that I'm in some seedy back room of some sleazy strip club.

Nick clears his throat, heartily, behind me. “Payment is made first, Mr....”

“Hardy.” Chris doesn't lift his eyes from me as he answers Nick. “The name's Dalton Hardy.”

“Yes, well, Mr. Hardy. I may be able to work out some sort of package. But, this here Candy is a newbie. Price is gonna be steep for a deluxe introduction.”

Chris’s next pinch latches on, allowing no mercy to my tender electrified nipple. “I understand completely. I think she'll be worth every penny.”

And with that, he releases me and walks past me into the manager's office. “Now... about this Vicky girl. I hear she's quite the lady.”

Anger sears through me. The sound of his words asking to hire the “services” of that tramp, are like sharp icicles piercing into my fiery heart. Undercover or not, the thought of him touching anyone but me infuriates me. I know we have no claim on each other. What are a couple of sex-crazed nights in the middle of an adrenaline filled experience worth, anyway? We come from two different worlds, he and I. They just happen to be intersecting momentarily.

******

The dressing room is tight, cramped. Makeup and scant costumes tossed about. The other girls barely raise their heads in recognition of my presence as Jose’ introduces me. I search around. None of them match the description of this Vicky chick. I quickly change into the tiny bikini styled uniform that I am given and thank God when I find the tags still attached. At least I know I won't be catching anything that would require antibiotics from my little undercover stint.

One of the smaller girls with a kind face looks over.

“Hi! I'm Kristy!” She extends a long acrylic finger-tipped hand to me. I take it.

“I'm Candy. It's my first night.”

She giggles. She seems young. Very young. “I figured. You don't look... like the rest of us.”

I'm sure that's true in more ways than one. The most obvious being my average-sized boobs. Let's just say they don't quite fill out my top the way hers do.

Kristy perks up at the sudden announcement of her name over the loudspeaker. Apparently... she's on next. “Well, good luck, sweetie. I'll see you later.”

With Kristy gone, some of the other girls take her lead and warm up to me. I plant some bait. “I had some random man ask for a package deal, with me and some girl named Vicky.”

The girls exchange glances.

“Wow... Nick's starting you up already, huh?” Some blond, I forgot her name already, says. “The tips are good, but private appointments are where the real money is. Vicky's been pretty busy with those, for a new girl and all. She's doing one right now upstairs. She's a pro. Been doing it a long time back where she's from, I think. She'll show you the ropes.”

She greases herself up with some kind of oil, but decides to give me a little more of her attention. “Make sure they use a condom, doll.” She shakes her head in disgust. “They always try to get away with that shit.”

OMG. This place is a whorehouse! These women are prostituting themselves out. The feminist activist in me wants to scream and tell these women to run like hell and not be exploited anymore. But I know their lives are more complicated than I can imagine and there are probably some pretty deep-seated reasons as to why they're here.

I try to shake it off, keep my cover. “Sure, thing.”

Our conversation abruptly ends as Jose’ storms in again, eyes lingering on the exposed flesh of the dressing strippers.

“Uh... Candy! You've got a private client before your set. Follow me, I'll take you upstairs to one of the private lounges.”

I gulp hard. I swear, it better be Chris.

“Sure, let me just grab...” I think fast. What sounds plausible? “...my stash of rubbers.”

It must have been believable, because Jose’ doesn't bat an eyelash as I dig into my purse. I stick my phone into my little coin purse to conceal it, and carry the small pouch loosely in my hand as I follow the bouncer/bodyguard out.

As I'm leaving, I overhear some voices from behind. “I guess she's more experienced than she looks.”

Glad to know I can realistically pass for a hooker if need be.

******

The bedroom-sized “lounge” is complete with a satin sheet covered queen sized bed and leather seating. There's a bedside chest with bottles of lotions and little plastic “accessories”.

I unzip my small coin pouch and swipe across the screen of my phone. I select the microphone app I downloaded last semester for recording Professor Green's sociology classes. Hiding my voice activated phone behind one of the leather chairs, I quickly take a seat on the edge of the bed and cross my legs as I hear the door handle jiggling.

A tall, blonde, negligee-clad woman with massive boobs barely covered in neglige struts in. “Oh.” She notices me. “I guess this is a group appointment. Look here, darlin'...” I can't help but get the same sleazy vibe as I did for Nick when she uses his catch phrase. “Keep your affections on the John. We don't touch unless he throws some extra cash our way, got it?”

I nod blankly. Please let the client be Chris. I'm gonna freak if this is a real “appointment.”

“Uh, sure.” I hold out my hand. She eyes it, but decides against shaking it, leaving me in that awkward position. “I'm Candy. Nice to meet you... uh... Vicky, is it?” I bring my hand back in.

The woman busies herself with some last minute grooming. “That's right. You the new girl?” She barely looks at me as she's speaking, as if I'm not worth her full attentions. Bitch.

“Yeah,” I answer. “I'm new. First time.” I think fast. “This is my first time. I'm actually glad I'm not alone. I was nervous how to handle it if things turned bad. I've heard some of these guys can get rough.”

Vicky snorts is an evil laughter kind of way. “Don't worry, princess.” I don't exactly like the way she says the nickname. It's very condescending, but I play along. “I know just how to handle these assholes. I've had more than enough practice.”

Now we're getting somewhere. My eyes instinctively dart over to the hidden corner. I see the faint red light flashing, indicating that the phone is still recording. I press further. “Yeah, you look like you can take care of yourself. Guys probably think twice before messing with you, right?”

Vicky applies some sort of lip liner to her pout, using the ceiling mirrors to guide her reflection. “You would think so, right? Only one guy ever underestimated me.” Her head tilted back at an unnatural angle to watch the makeup application above. “Let's just say he's not breathing to tell the tale or do it again.”

Fuck. That was way to easy. Is it enough, though? I don't want to mess this up, too many people are counting on me. I need more. “Wow, good for you. Did you get locked up?”

Vicky smacks her fuck-me red lips together loudly. “Nah... some poor sucker took the fall.”

“Really? And they still let you work here? I would have thought something like that would make you want to get out of here pronto, not risk something getting shaken up.”

Vicky smoothes some lotion into her legs. “It's far away from here. A done deal.”

I take a handful of the lotion myself and rub it into my own bare legs to calm my shaky, jittery hands. “That's good, I guess. How far away was it?

“You sure ask a lot of questions. You should know better than to get in people's business.” She eyes me suspiciously. Crap. I need to change the subject, like now.

As I think of a new, safe topic, the buzzing of my cell phone jumping across the floor breaks the sudden silence. I close my eyes tight. Fuck.

“What's that?' Vicky looks past me to try to see where the offending sound is coming from.

I move to block her view. “Uh, nothing.”

The phone continues to vibrate as the incoming call notification continues. Double fuck.

“Is that a phone? You're not allowed to have a phone in here. Who are you?” She's onto me.

“Chris!” I scream out. I manage to get the word out completely, in my loudest voice before she grabs hold of me and starts to claw at my skin. “Chris! Help!” I call out again.

The door crashes in, with Chris rushing to tackle the glamazon with her hands around my neck. He pushes her off me. The lack of oxygen has made my vision hazy and I cough dry air into my lungs. The damage was done, though, and I feel the sleepiness taking over. I slump over, giving in to the overwhelming urge to close my eyes.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

LILS

“Hey, momma!” Sunny calls to me as she and Tiny enter the clubhouse, carrying trays of food. “Where can we put all this?”

I swivel around, my slightly protruding belly pressing against the thin fabric of my shirt. I struggle to get up, my newfound weight altering my sense of balance. “Hey, guys! You can just take it into the kitchen. Jean’s sorting through everything.”

I reach Sunny and give her a peck on the cheek. My attempt to unhand her platter of sandwiches to help lighten her load is thwarted by my quick-acting brother.

“Don't you dare. No heavy lifting.” He shouts out to the new prospect behind the bar. “Hey, Shoop. Make yourself useful and get your ass over here and give my lady a hand. You gonna let a pregnant lady step up and do what your sorry ass is supposed to?”

“Ah, shit. Sorry Lil’s,” Shoop throws his bar towel over his shoulder and scurries over to take Sunny's items from her. Poor guy. He's barely a few months into prospecting, but they haven't let up at all. He's in for a long ride.

Sunny gratefully hands over the food, freeing her hands to rest on my midsection and give a rub. “Hey, baby!” She calls into my belly. “Are you ready for your first club cookout?”

I laugh. We're both ready. It's been a quiet two months since all of the craziness, but this is the first real get-together since. Tiny hands his own packages over to another prospect who runs up behind Shoop, and he wraps his arms around both Sunny and me, turning us in the direction of the door to the yard.

“So Lil's. Where's Jay?” my big brother asks.

“He's manning the grill,” I divulge my husband’s whereabouts.

Tiny laughs deep, a full belly laugh. “Oh great. We'll be having hockey pucks for burgers.”

The yard is full of Kingsmen, ol' ladies and families. Music is blaring and there are even a few games going on. Volleyball, horseshoes. It's a standard, run-of-the-mill family cookout.

“Hey, Jay, let's keep it edible, eh?” Tiny calls out, heading over to help his best friend. Jay promptly replies by sticking his middle finger up. Tiny laughs, while grabbing Jay's beer and taking a swig. “Let's just hope your son can work a grill better than his old man one day.”

I reach the exchange of brotherly love. Jay promptly sets down his cooking utensils and moves to place himself behind me, wrapping his arms around and resting them, splayed over my bump. I lean back against the rock-hard chiseled wall. This is my man. “My daughter will never have to work a grill,” he informs the soon-to-be uncle.

I speak up, defending the tiny being in my womb. “But, if she wanted to... she could.”

With every fiber of my being, I can feel Jay rolling his eyes behind me. “Yes, Lil's. He or she can do whatever they want to.”

I nod my head in agreement. An incoming car grabs our attention.

“Jess!” I call out. She honks her horn in greeting. Jess hadn't been able to give me a definite confirmation of whether she'd be able to make it today. The new semester had started up, and I know she's swamped with coursework, just as I am.

“Hey, Jules!” She rushes to embrace me. My belly has popped a little since seeing her last, at Vicky's sentencing. Even though she took a plea deal in exchange for offering testimony against the pimp she was working for, and Jessica was spared the embarrassment of having to testify, she still wanted to watch the sentence be handed down. She was almost as happy as we were when Vicky was given twelve years for manslaughter.

I suspect it also had a little something to do with her boyfriend, Special Agent Christopher Gibson, being the media darling and given full credit, including a promotion for cracking not one, but both, cases.

“Oh my God, I swear you've gotten bigger, Jules.” She laughs as she pats my middle.

I shake my head. “Yeah... my boobs aren't the only things growing anymore. So... how's Pretty Boy?”

She gives me a look. “You know I don't like that name, Jules.”

I surrender, hands up. “I know... I'm just joking.”

We walk back toward the rest of the group. “He's good, just busy. I barely get to see him these days with his new promotion, and all.”

I hug her close. I know the feeling. Jay's made a really big effort to stay close to home these last few months, but I can remember a time not long ago when things were different. When he'd be gone for days or weeks on end for club business.

I offer whatever words of wisdom I can. “If he's a good man, Jess, and I think he is... stick around. Don't give up so easily. Take it from me.”

I watch as Jay laughs with his friends, our family. My eyes soften as I watch my my husband with a new sense of appreciativeness. He's mine. He's always been mine. There have been times when I've given up too easily, broken by my own fear, lost without him and hopeless about living without the one thing I needed. It's him, it's always been him. And I am never letting go again. As if sensing my thoughts, in tune to my own, he turns toward me and winks. A thrill courses through me, the type only he can deliver... with as little as just a look. He asked me a long time ago, in the beginning, if I was his girl. Truth be told, I was always his girl. And I always will be.

******

CHARLIE

I take once last glance at my reflection and give myself final approval. I'm ready. Grabbing my keys and handbag from the dresser top, I exit my house and lock the door behind me. The roaring ignition of the Harley in my driveway revs a few times before I get to it. I take my helmet from Clink and swing my leg around, settling in close.

“You ready, baby?” Clink asks.

It's a complicated question. Was I ready? Am I ready to make the step and stand by this man officially? Things had taken such a turn, and I've ended up in a place far from the reason that brought me here. These people that I came here to ruin, came to destroy, have become my family. They embraced me in a way I never thought possible. I'm not sure why I did what I did. The day Lil's called and asked me for help, I could have just as easily said no, left Jay and the club to their own devices. Lord knows, it would have served my original purpose.

Helping Lil's had a ripple effect, though. The club now considers me one of their own, having proved myself and my loyalty to them. Whatever it was between Clink and me, changed once again. He looks at me with a newfound light in his eyes. It's not something I was looking for, but it's something I've come to find comforting, something I won't part with easily.

The engine hums beneath my legs. I hold closer to Clink, pressing my body to him. This man, this family that I expected nothing from, surprised me by giving me the one thing I deeply needed. The one thing I convinced myself a long time ago that I could live without. Belonging. I belong here.

Now that I've accepted the hard truth, I won't risk losing it. If it ever came out... was ever discovered who I really am or why I really came here, I could lose it all. They would never trust me again, the betrayal too deep.

I have only one choice, to hide the truth no matter the cost. To keep this family, this man. I lean forward and whisper near his ear. “Faster....”

JAY AND LIL'S EPIC LOVE STORY IS THE

BEGINNING IN THE KINGSMEN MC SERIES.

NEXT... GET TO KNOW CLINK AND CHARLIE

A LITTLE BETTER.

IS HE CAPABLE OF LOVING HER?...

WHO IS SHE, AND WHAT IS SHE HIDING?

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IN BOOK #4 OF THE KINGSMEN MC SERIES

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BABY V

*This material, whether in part, or in its entirety is copyrighted by Tara Oakes and not meant to be shared, duplicated, or used in any manner without direct permission from the author herself.

MAY

The church bells finally finish chiming, but I can still feel their metallic vibrations coursing through me. At least I will never have to hear those god awful bells again. Ever. Four years of listening to the slightly off beat tolls have been enough to drive me to loathe them on more than one occasion. In the beginning, they were charming... that lasted all of a week. Soon after, I could sense the daily noon ringing like a well tuned internal alarm clock... as it usually meant that I was late for class. If I was really lucky, it only meant that my rare but desperately needed afternoon nap was about to be interrupted. I knew I wasn't alone in my lack of affection for the old bells, because whenever anyone referred to them, it was always as the “damn bells.”

I look around at all of the other girls lined up with me and wondered if any of them were thinking the same thing about that last ringing. It was just another one of those “last” memories we would all share before graduation. Our last exam, last night in our outdated but charming dorm rooms, last assembly line-styled breakfast, and our last days as students at St. Bart's. Until today, we had all been heading down the same path. In about two hours, we would splinter away into a hundred or so different ones.

“Well, do I?”

I snap out of my daze with a confused “Hmm?” to my right.

“V... do I look like I have too much lipstick on? I want to be able to see my lips in the pictures, but not to look like a cheap pin up doll. Christy says I have too much on. I don't think I have too much on. Do I really have too much on?” And this was the last time I would have to listen to Katherine Lang ask me one of her mind numbing questions.

“No. It's not too much. The photographers are like ten feet away from the stage and I don't think they're taking close up shots.” I really had no idea what kind of photos they were going to take, but I probably wouldn't have worn as much of the pale pink lip lacquer that the petite blond slathered on herself.

Thanks to the inescapable alphabetizing of last names, I had to endure random questions like this for the last four years. I look down the line of endless burgundy gowns toward the coveted “T” section of the group with envy. Stephanie catches me eyes, giving me an overly enthusiastic and sarcastic thumbs up.

I would give anything to change my name right now. Nothing too crazy... something generic like Tate or Thatcher would do. But nooo. I'm a Lombardi and stuck with the “L”s for just under two more hours. I hope.

I don't think this could last longer than that. Father Cross is known to give a long winded Sunday morning sermon but even he wouldn't want to stand out here in the blazing sun any longer than he had to.

Before I can finish rationalizing the merits against a drawn out graduation day, the familiar orchestrated beginning of “Pomp and Circumstance” begin to play loudly. Taking a deep breath, I follow Katherine's lead toward the stairs to the newly erected stage. As I grab hold of the bannister, I stand tall on my toes to try and see out into the crowd.

Hundreds of happy faces and flashing cameras are staring back toward us. Quickly glancing over the waiving children, pointing parents, and people fanning themselves with folded programs, I scan for the large group of familiar faces that are waiting to see me take a seat behind the podium. I am about to give up and turn my attention toward the last step, when I find what I am looking for. A dozen or so adults and a gaggle of little kids all with the same light olive skin and dark brown hair as mine stand out against the background.

I smile, knowing that my family is beaming looks of pride in my general direction. Concentrating on the task at hand, I carefully walk halfway across the stage to my assigned seat, sitting as gracefully as I can. Mission accomplished. The last thing I need, is to trip over my tent of a graduation gown and fall flat on my face before my brothers. They would never let me live it down.

The sun beats down on us like a fry lamp at any given fast food establishment. Our gazes respectfully aim toward the back of Father Cross' head, but I'm sure I'm not the only stealing glances of their personal group of fans every few minutes.

Mine is probably one of the larger ones. Sister Mary Francis wasn't happy when I handed in my seat count for the ceremony. I'm sure she would have told me to trim it a bit, but held her tongue thinking about the amount of zero's on my family's endowment check to the school every year.

Most of them are here today. Well, the ones living on this side of the Atlantic, anyway. Mom, Nona, Aunt Rosie, my brother's with their wives and kids. And Theresa and Dom. I take inventory of each of them as I check them off my mental family list. Then I notice it.

“Miss Katherine Lang”

Father Cross turns slightly toward us as Kate gently squeezes my hand before getting up to receive her diploma. I smile and nod in return... chuckling a little when I notice the pink smear on her left hand. She had decided to remove some of her war paint before having her perfect smile immortalized for her graduation pictures. Smart move.

I quickly move my attention back to my group of troublemakers starting to share collaborative looks between one another as they sit up in preparation.

This is not good. If the four of them were communicating through silent glances and nodding with little smirks thrown in, that means they are all thinking somewhere along the same line. I'm on the receiving end of that line of thinking more times than I care to recall.

The applause is loud but polite for Kate. Her family made the expected cheers with her name being added to phrases such as, “Go Kate!,” “That's my sister,” and “Yay Katie!” Perfectly fine, tasteful and acceptable.

She grasps her diploma and faces the small group of men with wide angle lenses stationed below the stage, and I can imagine her flashing the megawatt but slightly plastic smile she is famous for. It's the same smile she gives everybody, every time, exactly the same. I'm sure it was perfected somewhere around thirteen years old in the company of her vanity mirror. Lipstick was probably added somewhere around her sweet sixteen for dramatic effect.

The applause dies down while Father Cross angles himself back towards the microphone perched on top of the podium.

“Miss Vincenza Maria Lombardi.”

I hold my breath and stand up, preparing for the noise.

I lock eyes with Father Cross, steadily heading in his direction. I have tunnel vision. Just concentrate on reaching the podium and take my diploma when he hands it to me. This is all I can think of to drown out the spectacle starting to erupt about ten rows deep into the crowd.

My eyes do not budge from that diploma as it nears. The last thing I need to do is to give them a reaction. I've learned the hard way, over too many years, that if they see the slightest bit of frustration or acknowledgement... then it just carries on longer.

Father Cross, headmaster of St. Bartholomew's Women's University, looks like a deer caught in headlights almost instantly. I'll bet he's never had this happen in the twenty plus years he's given that drawn out commencement speech, handing out these leather bound diploma's. I can't ignore the touch of irony in the situation, though.

Here stands the man, who time and time again, refused to change the outdated school curriculum after countless petitions and student senate meetings.

Finishing and Etiquette courses are mandatory, no matter what degree you were completing. After all, St. Bart's is well known to be one of the finest (and few remaining) institutions, where the daughters of the upper crust can be educated in all things proper and polished.

With families like this seeking out their services, why would they change protocol? It wasn't like the students were paying the bills or granting the ostentatious endowments. The families are, and the last thing Father Cross would let happen on his watch, would be for the benefactors to suddenly loose faith in his archaic and traditional policies.

And yet here we are, on a beautiful Sunday afternoon in May, enjoying the fruits of his labor... while the wealthiest, most financially generous family that this school had likely ever seen is making a scene the likes of which St. Bart's gentry have never witnessed.

A very small, crooked smile is fighting through all my efforts to suppress it. It is the same type of smile this man has given me every time I presented him with the school year's newest petition to no longer mandate trivial classes such as, “Traditional dance,” “Entertaining,” and “Social graces.”

I extend my right hand out toward the deep burgundy leather portfolio he is grasping, and my left hand to take his salutary greeting. Widening into a full smile, I turn in the direction of the photographers below, and the clicking sounds begin. His palm is sweaty, but cold. Weird and gross at the same time.

My peripheral vision begs my attention. They're on their feet now. Hands in the air, pumping. Fingers are cupped around mouths to project the hooting and hollering further, louder. My little nephew Johnny is being held up in the air to add his own voice to the mix of calls being shouted my way.

WAIT. There's a sign. Fuck. Really? A sign? I can't resist the urge any longer, and stare full force in their general direction, taking in the entirety of it.

Mike, the youngest and most mischievous of my three older brothers, and most likely the ring leader of today's affair, was holding up a rather large white cardboard sign. Professional lettering sprawled across it... huge letters shining and sparkling in the bright sunlight.

WAY TO GO BABY V!

The blood rushes to my face, before I can try and contain it. Mike is waving the sign back and forth, slowly, while doing his best impersonation of a rabid sports fan. His brown hair flops around from the sudden motion of jumping up from his seat. He sees me watching him and adds a nodding motion to his yelling.

John is next to him, holding little Johnny high above the crowd. Pure glee is painted across Johnny’s (“JJ” as only I call him) round little face. As the eldest of my brothers, and head of our family, John should know better than to encourage the next generation to jump on the “Baby V” bandwagon. Angry as I am with him, I can't help but notice the look of pride on John, as he holds his first born and only son up to watch me receive my degree.

Tony is next down the line of men making fools of themselves. His perfectly gelled coif and artificial tan stand out among the crowd of W.A.S.P.y alabaster complexions. The Jersey Shore has nothing on my brother Tony. He is suave to a fault and a killer lady's man. My inner Gloria Steinem is itching to add the phrase “man slut” to the mix, but tony has a heart of gold and has never treated a woman badly. He treated them well in fact... ALL of them. But... he's a tamed man now and married faithfully for over a year.

Tony is so excited and laughing hard enough that he practically doubles over. Dom is slapping him on the back while laughing himself. Dom. Gorgeous Dom with dreamy eyes. Tony was a ladies man, but he was just a wingman compared to Dom.

Dom can have any girl he wants... and probably has. Growing up, all of my friends swooned over him like flies on ice cream, and he loved every bit of it. Domenico is not a blood brother to me, like the other three... but close enough that I never hesitate adding him to their collective title. They are simply, “The brothers.”

Dom's eyes lock with mine long enough to see his famous grin and sly smile, before he adds the loudest boast yet to the ordeal.

“Way to go, Baby V! Bring it on home!”

Before he can finish as enthusiastically as he started, Theresa elbows him hard enough to ensure there isn't a follow up. That's my girl! Although Theresa is Dom's younger sister, she always has my back. Growing up the only two girls in our family, we have an unspoken allegiance to each other.

Theresa has had her share of the boys' antics growing up...but, as the baby of the group, I bare the brunt of it.

Dom pretends to be injured, cowering away from his little sister, while she returns her attention my way and politely claps... just as I had done at her own graduation ceremony last year.

The two were quite a pair. For however handsome Dom is, Theresa is equally beautiful with her huge almond eyes, and long, wavy blown out hair. She is the closest thing to a sister as I'm sure I'll ever find.

After the full five-second time frame perfected during countless hours of graduation rehearsal, I turn again to Father Cross. His lip quivers a little bit in restrained anger as he issues his standard well rehearsed words of wisdom.

“Congratulations my child... and god bless you.”

Simple. Sweet. And probably more than a little difficult for him to say at the moment.

*

In a matter of moments, the great laws has been transformed into a sea of chaos as relatives and friends swarm around in search of their particular graduate. It probably doesn't help much that we are all dressed in the same identical burgundy ceremonial gown. Twice now, someone has grabbed on to me only to find that I am not exactly who they were expecting.

Maybe this will be easier if I just park it somewhere and wait to be found, instead of playing the maze game with several hundred well dressed but impatient audience members? I head over toward the largest oak tree in the center of the lawn to relax under its shade until the craziness settles.

The temperature instantly drops a few degrees as I feel the tree's relief from the brutal sun. Pressing my back against the large trunk, I graze the crown looking for my mom. She is the only person I want to see right now. I'm still angry at the boys for their little graduation present from thirty minutes ago. Instead, I see another familiar face walking toward me, making an audible “Tisk, tisk” sound while smiling.

“How is it that you can turn something as boring as a graduation ceremony into a small scandal?” the friendly visitor finally asks as he reaches the shade of the tree. I reach out to hug him, thankful for the lighthearted distraction. He follows his statement with a soft embrace.

“Hey Conrad. So... you saw that, huh?” I ask back sarcastically. I hadn't seen Conrad since spring break, when he came to pick up Stephanie to take her home. He laughs lightly in my ear before tightening his grip and whirling me around.

“Of course I did. I was nodding off, listening to Cross ramble on and on until all hell broke loose!” He gently places me back down and lets go of his grip to look at me.

“So... Baby V, hmm? What's that about? I've never heard anyone call you that before. Something new?”

“No... something old. Annoying, and old. Have you found Steph yet? I saw her over by the flower garden a few minutes ago” I quickly change the topic away from my personal humiliation.

He moves us deeper into the shade. “Yeah, I found her. She's taking pictures with our parents. So how does it feel to be amongst us grown-ups, in the real world now?” Ha! I can barely call Conrad a grown up. He is no more an adult than his sister or I am.

“I am officially declining to answer any such questions until after the Summer is over. I figure I can stretch out one last season before joining in the trenches.” I answer back while shaking my head.

“All right...” He gives me a pass, “I'll ask you again in September, then. Enjoy it while it lasts. So... Steph tells me you two are going to be roommates in the city this fall?”

He takes on a visibly confused exterior.

“Seriously, I don't get chicks. I've spent eighteen years living under the same roof as her, and I couldn't wait for us to go to college just so I wouldn't have to deal with her every day. You two get paired up for five years and can't seem to let it go. I've seen how she keeps her room, V.” He rests a playful accusing finger on my chin, “You're a glutton for punishment.”

I step up to defend my friend, even in jest.

“Steph's not that messy. She's just organizationally challenged, I think. Yeah, we're going to look for an apartment downtown while we both get internships. Hopefully.” I had no idea Steph had told her brother about out plans for the fall. I was thinking of a polite way to ask Conrad to keep it on the quiet side until we definitely have plans set, when I see him look over my shoulder, and his face tense.

“There you are. We've been looking all over for you.” I turn to see Dom standing a few feet away from me. His deep brown eyes looking from me to Conrad, and back. “I told your mom I'd find you for pictures.”

Conrad recovers from his sudden discomfort.

“This must be one of your loudly proud brother's then? Nice to meet you” He speaks to Dom as he politely extends his hand. “Conrad Thomas, Stephanie's brother,” he introduces himself.

Dom hesitates for a split second while looking down at me. He's always been substantially taller than me, but I somehow feel him grow in height. He reaches out for Conrad's hand and shakes it casually while maintaining his gaze on me.

“No, I'm not V's brother. I'm a really good friend.”

He reluctantly shifts his eyes to Conrad. They probably should have let go of their grip, but keep it going awkwardly.

“Dominic Di'Benedetto. Good to meet you. I didn't know Stephanie had a brother.” He finally lets go of the younger boy's hand.

The two of them can't be more than eighteen inches apart, facing each other. Dom is Definitely the taller of the two, but Conrad straightens his shoulders as if to gain a few inches to make up the difference. Neither of them break their stare. I think fast to come up with something to say before this starts to feel even more uncomfortable. Dom beats me to it before I can say anything.

“But... you see those three goons over there? Standing by the fountain, staring at you? Those are her brothers. I think they want to see their baby sister and congratulate her.” He slowly states with a subtle hint of enthusiasm as he places his open palm on my lower back, adding a slight amount of pressure to will me to move with him toward where he's pointing.

“Uh yeah. That's fine. Congratulations, V. I'll catch up with you later than?” is all Conrad could manage to speak before I am out of earshot.

“Thanks! I'll call Steph about meeting tonight. You in?” I call back slightly increasing volume as I am being led away.

He nods over enthusiastically.

“Sure! Talk to you then!” he finishes while still standing in the same spot, under the oak tree, trying to figure out what exactly just happened.

No longer trying to yell out to Conrad, I turn fully toward Dom and stop walking, placing more weight in the heels of my shoes to counter his gentle guiding. He realizes quickly that we have slowed, and looks down toward me, not releasing his position from it's place on my lower back.

“What?” he playfully lets out while rolling his eyes slightly. “Come on V. Are you really pissed at what we did? It was Mike's idea. But, it was a good one,” he continues his argument. “You're the last one to graduate... we couldn't pass it up.”

I exhale deeply and loudly.

“You are all idiots, you know! Really! You couldn't just act your age and at least pretend to be mature for one afternoon, could you?” I scold as my pointed finger presses into his tie. I was expecting to push into his chest slightly, for full dramatic effect but met resistance under my fingertip.

Dom practically lives at the gym... but I guess I didn't give him enough credit. His chest was a lot firmer than I thought it would be.

He moves his free hand to cover my accusing pointer finger and presses it slightly so that my palm flattens out over his silky tie. Keeping his hand covering mine while changing his tone from one of jest to a softer, sweeter one, he begins the apology.

“I'm sorry, V. Really... I am. You know us. We bust your chops. That's all. I mean... you must have expected us to do something...?”

His brown eyes are somehow softer now, no longer laughing silently as they were before. His hand is strong on top of mine, as if he is holding it to reassure me of his words. Not wanting to brow beat him any more than necessary, as he obviously thinks I'm damn mad at him, I pull my hand back and use sarcasm to return to our usual and familiar banter.

“A sign?... Really? With Glitter! That's above Mike's skills for planning, Dom. Neanderthal's can't read let alone write.” I turn on my heel and storm off toward the other three idiots about to feel my wrath.

BABY V

TARA OAKES' FIRST FULL LENGTH

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ARIE LANE AND HER

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*This material, whether in part or in it's entirety is copyrighted by Arie Lane and not meant to be shared, duplicated, or used in any manner without direct permission from the author herself.

Prologue

I have been through a living hell. I lost my sister to a stalker who to this day, refuses to say where she is buried. I lost my father to his best friend Jim Beam, and my mother, well I never had her. Sure she was there. My darling mommy created the hell I endure every day.

For as long as I can remember, the woman hated me. She enjoyed finding new ways to try and break me. The earliest recollection I have of my mother is her humiliating me.

My twin Cora and I were celebrating our fourth birthday. Cora insisted she had to have a Cinderella party. I wasn’t much into princesses, but my opinion hardly mattered when it came to Cora’s demands. So, of course my mother thought this idea was brilliant. There was a small consolation though, mom said we could both be Cinderella. Cora threw such a fit at the idea she wasn’t going to be the only princess.

That is until she saw our outfits.

Cora’s was a beautiful blue dress, a Swarovski crystal crown, and mother even had glass slippers custom made for her. When it came time for me to put on my dress, it turned out, it wasn’t a dress at all. It was rags, Dirty ,filthy rags. I was the standing joke of the party. That was the start to a long and painful childhood.

I tried to avoid my mother’s wrath as much as possible, even if Cora made it her life’s mission to see me miserable. I guess she didn’t like having a twin any more than my mother liked having a second daughter. My mother’s temper hit a boiling point when I was six. We were at a fair and Cora had kicked the dirty water from a mud puddle up at me. It was the first time my mother didn’t scream at me, and Cora wasn’t too thrilled that she hadn’t succeeded. She always went out of her way to make sure I got in trouble, so since her antics didn’t get the reaction she wanted, she tripped me.

I landed face first in the mud puddle destroying my Sunday dress. When I stood back up, our mother was furious. It was the first time she’s hit me hard enough to leave a mark. I had her hand imprinted across my cheek until the next morning.

Demanding that I bathe, she ran a bath for me as soon as we got home. I thought maybe her anger had lessened, because she seemed calmer during the trip home. That was until I realized she ran the bath with water that was just a few degrees shy of boiling. She pushed me and the ruined dress I was still wearing, into the water. I thought she had left me alone, so I tried to add some cold water to the tub. I never got the chance, before she came back in and poured some kind of cleaner into the bath water and told me to scrub. The cleaner was harsh and it left my body covered in blisters.

Once she left the room again, I thought it was safe to wash the mud from my hair. Laying back in the tub to try and wash the mud away, I opened my eyes to my mother hovering above me. The next thing I knew, she was holding me under the water trying to drown me. I must have had a guardian angel that night because somehow I slipped out of her grip and bolted through the door leaving water everywhere. I don’t recall what I was spanked with that night, but I remember I could hardly walk for two days. This became the pattern of my life, abuse and degradation.

Teachers often saw marks, but usually overlooked them. Even when they did ask, nothing ever came of it aside from making my mother more angry. Because of that, I learned early on not to tattle. No one ever believed me over her. Especially not with Cora, the image of perfection, standing by her side. Everyone began to believe I was hurting myself for attention. The fucked up part was the more she hated me, the harder I tried to make her love me.

I was never good enough, though. It didn’t matter that I had perfect grades. It didn’t matter how many people congratulated her on what a bright, well-mannered daughter she had. No, the only thing that mattered was that I couldn’t bring her into the limelight. That’s what she had Cora for.

Beautifully, spell-binding Cora, who could entrap you in a web of the most beautiful lies. Cora was the only person I think Darla Celeste ever gave a shit about, other than herself. But then Cora was her ticket to stardom. She planned to ride the heels of Cora’s modeling career straight to the top. While I continued to live my life in solitude consumed by my studies.

October 25, 2007, was the day my life officially came to an end. Cora had been missing for several months, and any hope of finding her (or her body) had dwindled. The police charged a man that had been seen following her around, and later was identified as her stalker.

She had never mentioned a stalker to me. For the first time in my life I had my sister, as we had grown close during my final year in school and the months thereafter. It was nice to have her there, even for that short while.

The police questioned the man extensively, but he refused to admit to killing her. He was charged with kidnapping, obstruction and aggravated stalking. He took a plea deal to serve out a five year sentence.

The day we laid my sister’s empty coffin into the ground something inside my mother broke. She had always been abusive and hostile. Her obsession with me had turned to something brutal and deadly, then. Standing in the kitchen after the funeral, cleaning up the mess created by all of the comings and goings of people giving condolences, my mother’s sanity snapped.

It could be, it was never there in the first place. To this day, I can still taste the chemicals she laced the plastic bag with, although they never found the object she used to try knocking me out with. Whatever it was, left me with a small concussion and a fractured skull.

If my best friend, Dante, hadn’t talked me into taking self-defense classes with him, I’d likely be dead. Darla Celeste has a good seven inches on my frame, so getting the bag over my head was the easy part. I fought back like hell, though, as she tried to tighten the bag around my neck hoping that if she couldn’t at least suffocate me, she’d be able to strangle me instead.

It was the first time I ever filed a police report against my mother for her abuse. Even that didn’t accomplish anything other than building her rage. She convinced a psychiatrist she was suffering from P.T.S.D. because of my sister’s disappearance, and she couldn’t recognize me in that moment. She claims she was trying to defend herself.

It was complete bullshit, but just like every other time, they bought the lies as if she was incapable of telling anything other than the truth.

It was in those moments that my mother prepared me for a life of misery. It was in those moments I felt I would either live my life hidden away or die in whatever heinous fashion my mother would deem most appropriate, to garner the most media attention.

Darla had decided if she didn’t have Cora’s coattails to ride, that the loss of her surviving daughter would be devastating enough to garner her enough media attention and sympathy to throw her into the spotlight. But she didn’t just want my disappearance and death, she wanted it in a media frenzied circus.

She wanted a horrific spectacle that would launch her to the top of her social circle, no matter what the cost. My mother was nothing if not a whore, and she was willing to trade my life for her 15 minutes of fame.

I chose to hide away from everyone. My only solace was in the knowledge that if I was alone, then no one could ever hurt me. If nothing else, my life had prepared me for pain and misery. It had prepared me for each of the great disappointments I endured.

Nothing in my life though, could have prepared me for him.

I was at a loss when it came to the man who would wreck the safe little life I had built for myself. Never in my wildest dreams could I have ever conjured up a man like Tristan.

People say nothing in life comes your way that you can’t handle. Well I call bullshit. Because those people have never met Tristan Reece, with his sexy smirk and hotter than hell body. No one could ever be prepared for the confidence and sexual prowess that man oozes. Of course by no one. I mean me. I’m just an average woman (in every kind of way), who somehow becomes the bulls-eye on his target.

TRYST

BY ARIE LANE

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JANUARY 6, 2015