See You in Valhalla

by MariaLisa deMora

  The hot tears flowed after that, soaking his shirt as he held her, rocking them back and forth in a comforting slow dance there in the middle of the clubhouse. His grip on her had renewed again and again, each shift in position telling her he was still there with her, right there in the middle of the rubble of her life, and she hadn’t known she’d needed that until it was offered so damned freely. His words, a constant melodic croon in her ear, told her of his own grief and loss, that her father had been more than a leader, had been more than a friend—they’d been brothers to the bone, one voice between them as they’d worked to better the club.

  Some of those secrets she’d feared lost forever had been revealed over the course of the past hour, and now she drank in these new memories given voice by this huge bear of a man. Her giggle at one of the stories startled both of them, and she pulled back, lifting her chin to stare up into Neptune’s eyes, finding them red-rimmed. Stiffening her spine, she attempted to take a step backwards, but his arms tightened around her, restricting that retreat. “Dobbs—”

  “Neptune.” He cut her off with a word, and the permission granted with that one word fanned a tiny curl of heat in her belly. His palm cupped her jaw, and she felt the glide of his thumb across the curve of her cheek. “I know you’re gettin’ this, but I’ll say it plain. Gibby mattered to us. All of us.” His eyes lifted, breaking their stare as he glanced around the room over the top of her head before his gaze returned to hers. “We have a memorial ride for him this afternoon. I’d be honored if you’d ride on my bike, Carly. There’s a bunch of guys coming in from other chapters and clubs, and it’ll do us all good to see you there.”

  The idea of riding on a motorcycle behind this man tightened that curl of lust, wringing out every atom of desire she’d ever felt. Eyes locked with his, she studied him closely. He blinked, and his face changed, softening. She saw the sorrow she’d heard in his voice, but it was shadowed by heat, and she realized that for some unknown reason, he badly wanted this.

  Throwing caution to the wind, she took in a deep breath that swelled her ribs, pressing her breasts against him. His arm gave her a squeeze. She felt a thickening at his groin and had to fight the urge to moan and arch into him more.

  Ignoring all of that, she gave him the answer he wanted.

  “I’d love to, Neptune.”

  Five

  Neptune

  Bikes had been rolling in for the better part of an hour, and he stood with his shoulders pressed tight to the outside wall of the clubhouse, arms folded across his chest as he watched over the proceedings. Monk’s old lady, Amanda, and Blade’s woman, Jenn, were handling the registration, lines snaking away from where the women sat, piles of completed paperwork piling up between them. The men working the raffles and drawings were doing their jobs, and he saw another prospect swap in an empty jar for one filled with bills. The club had borne the cost of Gibby’s headstone but knew the whole community would want to have a hand in some kind of memorial, so Monk had come up with the idea of a flagpole and flag near Gibby’s grave. At this rate, Neptune figured they’d have more than enough money to pay for that and more by the end of the day.

  Another bike pulled up, this one alone, and he studied the unfamiliar rider. He swore when he finally recognized the man as the same one from Gibby’s place yesterday. The one Carly had claimed as a partner and handler, the man who’d held her life in his hands while she’d been undercover. Ryman.

  Neptune pushed off the wall and rattled down the steps, striding through the crowd without looking to either side. He came to a halt just a pace away from the big man still seated on the bike. He didn’t wait for a greeting, just dove right to the heart of the matter without bothering to work through the why of his anger at this man’s appearance. “The fuck you think you’re doing here?”

  “Paying my respects.” Ryman stood and lifted a leg, swinging to stand on the other side of the bike, putting the machine between them. “Same as every other man here.”

  “Yeah, right.” Ryman had on jeans and scuffed biker boots, a ragged and faded T-shirt covered with a blank denim vest that was worn in all the right places. He looked like a Hollywood extra, dressed for the part. Shit had to have cost him a pretty penny on such short notice. Neptune gestured towards the man, holding his gaze with a glare. “You think this is a joke, man? This your way of playing biker for a day?”

  “I live in Picklewood.” He named a community about forty miles east and south of town. “This here”—he patted the fuel tank on the bike—“is my girl, Shillelagh.” He gestured to his front, indicating his clothes. “And these are what I wear when I ride her. Which isn’t often enough, given the work I do.” Ryman straightened and gave Neptune’s glare back to him, multiplied. “When my partner told me about the ride, I dropped everything to be here. For her. Not to somehow spite you, asshole. You don’t factor that much, so don’t flatter yourself. This—” He gestured around them, then back to the bike between them. “Me being here, this is about Carly. Get over yourself.”

  Neptune’s chin rose, and he gritted his teeth, muscles in his jaw complaining at the strain. “Apologies.” He swallowed hard, then rolled his neck when he realized why the true reason the man being here was torquing him over. “I’ll bring you the helmet I got for Carly.”

  He’d already turned away when the man’s voice stopped his movement. “Dobbs?” Neptune looked over his shoulder to where Ryman stood, a puzzled look on his face. “She’s not riding with me.”

  He turned back to face the man. “Why not?” Now he was unreasonably angry on Carly’s behalf, thinking this man had tossed her aside without even an argument. “She not worth the effort?”

  “Fuck, man.” Ryman’s head shook back and forth in short sweeps. “She’s my partner, but we’re not…the woman’s gorgeous, sure, but she’s got the wrong parts for me. She’s excited about this, and I haven’t heard that in her voice in a while. I know you don’t have a clue what she’s gone through in the past couple of years, but trust me when I say hearing her that way makes me fuckin’ giddy for her. She doesn’t even know I’m here, man. Right now, she’s all about you.”

  Neptune took a moment to let all the information sink in. His immediate assumption that Ryman was here for Carly in a romantic way was derailed by the man’s frank admission. That meant he was truly just here to support his work partner, although if the few things Carly’d let drop were to be believed, things the man had reinforced just now with his words, they probably had a much tighter relationship than normal coworkers. It was gratifying to know he hadn’t misread her excitement at the idea of riding behind him on the bike, and her making a point to call the one person in her life who’d understand was not lost on Neptune.

  He took a deep breath to give himself a moment to mentally adjust, then strode back to where Ryman stood next to the bike. Hand outstretched, he gripped the man’s wrist in a warrior’s greeting. “Lemme start over, man. Sorry. We’d be honored to have you ride with us.” He clenched his left fist, thudding it against his chest over his nameplate. “Call me Neptune, not Dobbs. Breathe easy, brother.”

  “Neptune,” Ryman returned, grip tightening. “I’ve got a road name, too, if you wanna use it.”

  “Hit me with it, and I’ll let you know.” Neptune made to release the man, stymied when Ryman’s hand didn’t relax. “All ears here.”

  “Monday.”

  Neptune blinked and felt his head tilt to the side. “Come again?” He leaned a little closer. “I didn’t catch that.” An engine revved nearby, exhaust sounds ringing off nearby buildings. Ryman’s mouth moved, but the words were drowned out by the noise. “Still didn’t hear you, man.”

  Mouth spreading wide in a grin, Ryman shook his head and repeated himself. “Monday, man. Monday.”

  “Monday? Like an Addams Family reference? Like Wednesday?” He shook his head. “But Monday?”

  “No, man. Just Monday.” Ryman shrugged and dropped his hold, leaving Neptune’s hand hanging in t
he air for a moment.

  “Monday.” Neptune laughed softly. “Goes against the grain to ask, man, but I gotta know where that one came from.”

  “Everybody hates Monday.” The man’s mouth pulled sideways, trying to hide a return of his grin. “I’m kind of an asshole.”

  “Oh, Jesus.” Neptune laughed loud, head back, without trying to contain his humor. A moment later, he was given the unexpected reward of a small hand touching his waist, heat pressing up against his side. He looked down to see Carly standing next to him, her eyes on his face as she smiled up at him. “Hey, there.” He gestured towards Ryman—fuck if he’d be able to call him Monday in his head—who was walking around the back of his bike with arms out. “Your favorite asshole’s here.”

  “Ryman.” Her voice was low and soft, carrying notes of surprised pleasure. “I didn’t expect to see you today.” She leaned into the man’s embrace, and Neptune heard her whisper, “It’s a little overwhelming. So many people came, just for him.”

  “And you, Carly. Take what’s being offered, sister. Take it and run with it, because having this kind of family can be a powerful thing.” Ryman’s gaze met Neptune’s over her head. “There’s some good men here, ready to stand beside you if you let them.” A buzz set up in Neptune’s head, growing until it overwhelmed the noises around them. He stared as Carly shifted, her head turning just enough to look at him, eyes staying on his face as she nodded, her hair shifting and moving against Ryman’s chest. “Now.” Ryman straightened and turned her, arm around her shoulders. “Where do I sign up for this shindig?”

  Neptune watched them walk away, uncertain what this warmth in his chest meant until he saw Carly’s head twist around, fingers lifting in a fluttering wave as she mouthed, “Back in a minute.”

  Fuck.

  He couldn’t get hung up on Gibby’s girl. It shouldn’t matter how funny or fierce she was, how deeply she’d loved her father or the depth of trust she’d granted Neptune multiple times now by exposing her pain and fear. He couldn’t get hung up on any woman. He knew his brothers depended on him to have full focus on their joint goal of finding Gibby’s murderers and taking their own brand of justice.

  Moving slowly, he deliberately turned his back on the registration area where Ryman had led Carly and swept the crowd with a glance. Monk stood near the shed Blade used for his mechanic jobs for the club, and Neptune wasted no time making his way that direction.

  “Brother,” he muttered, arm thrust out for a handshake. “Half an hour until kickstands up. We ready to go?”

  Monk stood tall and nodded, his gaze traveling from Neptune’s face over his shoulder, probably landing directly on where Carly stood with Ryman. His brother gave him the out needed and ignored that aspect of what would be happening today, focusing instead on his job and role: road captain.

  “Yeah, we’re good. Staging’s been happening steadily as folks register, and our boys aren’t letting them into line without a wristband. No anonymous tagalongs today.” Monk tipped his head towards the shed, and Neptune realized the steady stream of profanities he’d been hearing were coming from that direction. “Blade’s rigging up some Bluetooth shit for half a dozen of us including you and me, so we can communicate with the hoppers and sweeps.”

  He nodded. “Still no word from Putnam?” The statie had promised to do what he could to gain approval to authorize an escort for the ride, but they hadn’t heard anything from him yet. Monk shook his head. “Then we assume we’re unescorted and have to block traffic ourselves. Good job on the ears, man.”

  “We’re better off on our own, anyway.” Monk’s features darkened, anger sweeping over his face. “Motherfuckers should be better spending their time finding the assholes who did this.”

  “Honestly?” Neptune paused, waiting for Monk’s nod. “I’m hoping they don’t find them first.”

  A hand gripped his shoulder, followed by the thudding of a closed fist against his back. He turned to see Wolf had walked up beside him, the same anger shadowing his expression. “Right there with you, brother. Freaks take care of Freaks’ shit, and we both know it.”

  There was a rumble of a bike nearby, and Neptune turned to see Ryman idling his way to the end of a row of bikes. He made a split-second decision and shoved two fingers in his mouth, whistling shrilly. Every prospect within earshot looked up, gazes homing in on him. He pointed to the biker and then to a spot farther up the line, directly behind the Borderline Freaks’ spot at the head of the column. A thumbs-up from one of the prospects preceded the instructions being passed to Ryman, who glanced at Neptune before acknowledging the change in assignment and shifting trajectory.

  “He’s a friend of Carly’s” was all he offered to the two men looking at him curiously.

  “I can’t get the fucking things to work right.” Blade stuck his head out of the shed’s doorway as he yelled at them. “Static and ignorance, I’m awash in both.” He tapped the side of his head, and Neptune realized he had an earpiece in. “Nothing. Not a damn thing. Fakes and liars. Assholes.”

  “Let me try.” The feminine voice was one that had already etched its way into his psyche, and Neptune didn’t have to turn and look to know it was Carly. She approached Blade with one hand out. “I’ve worked with all kinds of equipment. They can be really fussy.”

  “Tell me about it, little sister.” Blade’s mutter was quiet as he passed Carly several of the earpieces he had in his hand. “I’ve got a bench inside if you need somewhere to work on them.”

  “Yeah.” She sounded distracted, already dialed in on the devices. She walked past where Neptune stood with the other men and gave him a little chin lift, bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she turned the earpieces over and over in her hand. “That’d be good.”

  Blade and Carly disappeared into the shed, the murmur of their conversation drifting out occasionally. Neptune startled when a hand landed on his arm, Monk’s fingers tightening and loosening. He hadn’t realized he’d blocked out everything, trying to make out what was being said. It wasn’t even jealousy, because Blade was totally devoted to his woman. It was the look on Carly’s face that said she’d just entered a place that made her entirely happy. Something to figure out.

  Ryman’s voice broke his train of thought, and Neptune twisted to see the big man walking up beside him. He greeted him with a nod, then quickly made introductions, shaking his head as he muttered the man’s self-proclaimed road name.

  Predictably, Monk was the one who latched on to the moniker, asking in a voice an octave higher than normal, “Monday? No shit, man? From Picklewood?” Something in his tone captured Neptune’s attention, and he watched Ryman’s features smooth over as if with a paintbrush, all animation leaving the man’s face within a breath. “Heard good things about you, man. Welcome and well met.”

  Something else to figure out.

  Blade’s laughter was brash and loud coming from the shed, as were his hoots of celebration. He stuck his head out, then ducked away again for a moment, allowing Carly to precede him from the building. They were laughing and talking companionably, and Neptune was reminded of the hours spent at Gibby’s place. Her place, now. It didn’t matter that Gibby’d left it to the club. If Carly wanted it, she deserved to have whatever of her father she could hold on to.

  “Carly girl’s got the touch. There’s a controller needed to link them all together, and I didn’t know what the damn thing was. I’ll have it in my pocket during the ride and we should be golden. She says it’s got a few-mile radius, so easy breezy.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, tugging her sideways against him. “Good job, little sister.”

  Color crept into her cheeks, and Carly darted a smile at Blade, deftly separating herself from his hold without seeming to do so. Neptune noticed because he was watching closely, and he knew Ryman had seen when the man cut a glance at him. They shared a quick grimace. Then Monk lifted his voice in a shout.

  “Ten minutes until the blessing. Get to your bikes. We’ll start �
�em up right after, and roll.” He clasped the forearm of each man in their little group, including Ryman. “Shiny side up.”

  Each man murmured his version of the benediction, the BFMC members accepting an earpiece from Blade before they walked to their bikes. A moment passed, and Neptune was left with Carly and Ryman, looking back and forth between them as they seemed to have a silent conversation filled with lip quirks and brow lifts.

  “If you’re finished…” He cleared his throat and was unsurprised when both Carly and Ryman turned those completely blank and placid expressions in his direction. “I need to get ready. Carly, I’ve got a helmet for you, regardless which bike you choose to ride on.” He gestured to where his ride was parked. “It’s just over there.”

  “I told you—”

  “Is this you uninviting me?” Carly’s soft question cut off Ryman’s argument.

  “No. But Ryman’s your partner.” He tried not to put any special emphasis on the word, keeping what Ryman had told him in mind. “And you might be more comfortable with a known component.” He shrugged and took a step backwards, lifting the earpiece up and fitting it into place. “Up to you. Lady’s choice.”

  “I’ll ride with you, if it’s all the same.” Her voice was firm, brooking no argument, and he didn’t give any.

  A warmth crept over him, and he fought with himself to take her words at face value. He stretched his hand out, gratified when she quickly met his palm with hers, fingers threading together.

  “Sounds good.”

  Six

  Carly

  It had been a while since she’d ridden on the back of a bike, but Carly found it surprisingly easy to slip back into the rhythm. The most challenging part of everything was the enforced physical closeness between her body and Neptune’s, something she’d initially tried to minimize by sitting back slightly while gripping either side of his waist. He’d put a stop to that early on, leaning back and telling her to “Slide up, honey. Get friendly. We’re gonna be on here for a while.” Then he’d put actions to his words, gripping behind each of her knees and sliding her as close to him as he could.