“You’re an enigma to me, Niyol.”
I frowned, watching the edge of her thumb run once more over my knuckles. Did she realize what she was doing?
“We may not know each other well, but I can be a good listener if you ever want to talk.” She cringed, finishing with, “I don’t always lead the conversation.”
I pulled my hand out from under hers, using my other hand to rub at the skin she’d stroked under the table. It prickled, a ghost of her touch still there. That scared me off far more than anything. If I started to crave physical contact from her, then I wouldn’t be able to stop.
“We should get back to the hotel.” I motioned for the waitress, avoiding Summer’s eyes.
“I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable, Niyol.”
Ignoring her, I reached into my wallet and pulled out some cash. Once I slapped a few ones on the table, I stood.
“I’m gonna take off. Walk a little.” Before I grabbed her and hauled her onto my lap. Before I ruined her like I ruined everything else in my life.
“Wait.” She pushed in her chair and stood in front of me, her hands flat on my chest. “Don’t go.”
I looked in her pleading eyes, jaw locked as I willed her to leave it be.
The more time I spent with her, the more she reminded me of my stepmom in the sense that she had this undying need to make others feel better. Comfortable. A need to get people to open up, when that was the last thing they wanted.
“Sit.” She puffed out her bottom lip, pouting—a last-ditch effort, no doubt. “Please, Niyol.”
I breathed a heavy sigh, shoulders falling a little. Because telling this woman no wasn’t in my vocabulary it seemed, I did as she asked.
She moved her chair next to mine this time, the legs screeching across the dirty bar floor. Eyes bright and eager, she waited for me to continue speaking, though I’m not sure what the hell else she wanted me to say. When I didn’t open my mouth, she leaned back, leading the conversation. Again.
“Talk to me some more. About anything. I just… I want to know you for some stupid reason.”
She was stupid all right. Stupid for being so sweet to me. Stupid for wanting to know me. Stupid for looking at me like I held the universe in my hands with my fucked-up life. A life she was obviously curious about but wouldn’t dirty herself up enough to ever get too close to.
Maybe that was why I felt my chest squeeze. Why I felt like flipping this table, scooping her up, hauling her over my shoulder, and making her mine. I wasn’t good enough for a woman like this. She was too pure for my world. But I wanted to. More than anything right then. And because of that, I turned on my inner asshole and let her have it again.
“You’ve got life all mapped out, don’t you?”
Her gaze flickered with unease. “I, um, have plans, if that’s what you mean. Goals and a job in the field of work that I love.”
I glared down at my boots, the same pair I’d been wearing the day I stepped into prison. They were filthy; broken laces and scuffed. Summer’s shoes though, were tiny and sparkly. They looked brand new, like something straight out of a magazine. It was almost like they’d never seen the world. Virgin-shoes was what I’d call them. Shoes that hadn’t seen the bad shit like mine did. She was the princess, whether she liked to be called it or not. While I was the type of guy who’d been beaten by his father, left for dead in an alley, only for him to come back an hour later and say: Get up, start acting like a man. All because I refused to kill a guy for not having Pops’ money.
Shit like that happened to me all the time growing up. And I dealt with it because that’s what a Red Dragon did. Now, though, was my chance to start over. Forget those memories and just be someone else altogether, even if I wasn’t sure how. And no matter what happened, she didn’t want to be with me in any way shape or form when it all went down.
“Must be nice.” I scowled down at the floor. “Knowing what’s to come in life. Being prepared for a future.”
“I worked hard to get where I am, if that’s what you mean.” She toyed with the end of her bracelet once more. I looked closer, finding a small shell set in the middle of it. “I got good grades all throughout school, stayed out of trouble, and even went to the same college as Emily.”
“Don’t bring Emily into this.” I scrubbed both hands over my face. “This is about you and me.”
“There is no you and me. As far as you are concerned, we’re not even friends, remember?”
“No. We’re not.” But I’d never tell her that a huge part inside of me was dying to kiss her, taste her shiny lips, lay her on a bed and show her what it was like to be with a man who had no soul.
I pulled a smoke out of my pocket and twirled it in between my fingers instead.
“I want to understand you, Niyol. Is that too much to ask?” Her voice went soft.
“Why?”
“Because…” She took a shuddering breath. “Behind all your hard tendencies, I can almost bet there’s an incredibly decent guy just waiting to be known.”
An incredibly decent guy… That was laughable. Nobody complimented me for the hell of it. Nobody ever called me decent, either.
“Fine then, Princess. You wanna know me, then listen up.” I folded my hands on the table top and she scooted closer to me. It was like she was readying for a bedtime story.
“My mom ran when I was a little kid. Two, I think.” Not that I could really remember. I wasn’t allowed to ask about her. The one time I did, Pops slapped me across the face and shoved me against a wall. “I stayed with my Pops, lived in a house with him about a mile from the Red Dragons’ compound. Then at sixteen, I prospected, and a year later, I was patched in.” Not wanting to see her reaction, I stared at the TV behind the bar.
“Life was decent enough. I had my cousin, Slade, who didn’t have a mom either. She ran off like mine just days after he was born. His dad died later on, and when they couldn’t find the lady, he moved in with Flick.”
Slade was a quiet motherfucker, fiercely protective of me and Arch, even being two years younger. For a long time, we never saw him with a woman. Never saw him look at one even, up until he was close to eighteen. His head was always buried in a book, learning about everything he could that wasn’t club related. People used to think he was slow. Stupid ’cause he didn’t talk. But me and Archer knew the truth. Slade was a damn genius who only hid from the world because he didn’t know what he wanted out of it.
Be an RD, or run away.
Eventually he made his choice and, as far as I knew, he didn’t regret it.
“And the other guy? Archer?”
I refocused on Summer. “He’s a buddy of mine. His dad was the Road Captain. Planned all the runs and took over when the VP or Pres weren’t there.” I paused, letting that sink into her mind. “Archer grew up in the club like I did, but overseas. Then came here when his father got transferred. He patched in around the same time as me. ” I shrugged. “His old man died after a run gone wrong, and Arch’s been a bit of a drunk since.”
Not only that, but Archer was the goof-off, the guy with no goals, other than fucking and drinking. Blond hair with an Irish accent that the ladies fell to their knees for.
No matter what, he and Slade always had my back, like I had theirs.
Until I’d abandoned them.
“So, what, you didn’t go to school? Get an education?” She frowned, her pretty lips dipping in pity.
“Couple of the old ladies round the club did what they could for me when Pops let them.” Which wasn’t very often. “I didn’t need an education to deal drugs and work on cars though.” Or fuck or get drunk either. None of those things needed a teacher.
“Where does Emily come into play in all of this?” Summer twisted her napkin, then flattened it back out on the table top. “I mean, I know she’s your stepsister, but she’s never told me much else.”
Probably because she didn’t know a lot.
“The night I got patched in, after celebrat
ing at the club, Pops made me go with him on a run, while the rest of my brothers stayed behind at the compound.”
“A run?”
“Like, we’d go out, run drugs, weapons, shit like that. Club stuff.”
But it wasn’t that kind of run. At least, not the night I was patched. Pops took me into town instead to find me some ass; a fucking virgin hooker to celebrate with, instead of one of the groupies who hung around the compound. One of the few things my old man said to me that night was, No son of mine needs tainted ass on his first night as a brother.
If he’d known I hadn’t touched the girl he’d paid for, and instead given her an extra hundred bucks, then told her to escape out the window, he probably would’ve killed me on the spot.
As messed up as it was, at least at the time, I thought that was Pops’ way of showing me he loved me; like him taking me to that girl was his version of trying to be a real father.
“On our way home, he saw Lisa and Emily stranded on the side of the road. They’d been out of town, shopping or some shit for Em’s birthday. Their car had broken down. Pops pulled over to help. Didn’t think he had it in him to care like that, to be honest.”
I shook my head at the memory of Lisa’s eyes. All big and green as she looked up at my pops through the rolled-down window. Then she looked at me, and I swear to this day she started crying. I must’ve scared her even worse than Pops had.
Emily, on the other hand, was in the passenger seat, scowling. I’d been half drunk on whiskey, yeah, but I’d never forget the look she gave me. One that promised a knee to the nuts if I even so much as looked at her.
“So, what, it was love at first sight then for the two of them?” Summer asked.
“Something like that.” I shrugged, not really knowing the whole story. “Pops just had this way with women, I guess.”
“He was charming, then.” She frowned.
“No. The man’s a master manipulator. Always in control, no matter who knows him or who doesn’t. That goes for both women and men.”
She reached over the table and squeezed my hand again. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”
This time I pulled my hand back right away. “Nothing to be sorry for. Pops gets what he wants in the end.”
At least he used to.
If I’d been smart at the time, then I would’ve warned Lisa away. Had I done so, though, I might have missed out on a lot myself. Selfish bastard that I was, if it meant not having Emily and Lisa in my life, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. Outside of Slade and Archer, they were the only two people I could count on.
“Did Emily and her mom live with you guys?” she asked.
“Nah. Pops bought them the house Lisa lives in now. He went and stayed there maybe once a week.” Most of the time, though, he was too busy doing runs, or fucking groupies to even remember he had a wife. “But her and my old man fought a lot. They only stayed married for six months, I think.” If that.
“But you stayed in touch with Emily and Lisa still.”
I nodded, drumming my fingers along the table top. “Nine years later, and they’re still more my family than Pops ever was.” Holidays, get-togethers, nights of just doing nothing… Pops never knew I used to visit them as much as I did. But Lisa became the mom I never had and Emily the sister I didn’t think I wanted.
“I’m glad you have someone.”
I looked up, finding a wide smile on Summer’s face. I didn’t get a lot of real in my life, but for some reason, she was fast becoming an exception to that.
“Me, too.”
A few seconds passed before she began again. Summer really did love to fucking talk. And the scary part was, I wasn’t minding it as much.
“So, what happened? How did you wind up in prison?”
I leaned back on my stool, tapping only my thumb along the edge of the table. “I got in a fight with Pops one night after I saw him hit one of the groupies. I’d just turned twenty-four and felt like more of a man than I’d ever been.” The kind of man who apparently thought it was okay to test the RDs’ club president, father or not. “I’ll never tolerate men hurting women.”
“And what are, um, groupies exactly?” She bit her bottom lip.
“Women who like to fuck. In turn, they get shelter, food, and protection from shit most are hiding from outside of the club.”
“Like protected prostitutes.”
“Sure.” I didn’t bother correcting her. Unless you grew up in that lifestyle, you wouldn’t understand it.
“What happened after you got into it with your father?” Those sweet eyes of hers continued to study me, curiosity making them even lighter it seemed.
I shifted and looked down at the table. “I wound up moving out of Pops’ place. Lying low for a while. Hiding out in abandoned buildings, shit like that. Slade and Archer brought me stuff I needed. Food and clothes. Money.”
“Slade and Archer sound important to you,” she said with a sad smile.
“They’re my brothers.” I glared at the table, avoiding her eyes. Every day I missed those two. But unlike me, they wouldn’t walk away from the club. Their devotion to the RDs was forever, no matter who led it or what rules applied.
“So, what happened then?” Summer asked, scooting her stool even closer. So close, our thighs pressed together.
“Pops found me. Came alone.” She nodded me on, her eyes wide, fearful. “He said we needed to talk. That he’d had a change of heart and wanted to see shit my way for once.”
The little kid inside of me who longed for love from his father had needed to believe him. That was why I’d agreed to go.
Had I known what would happen, I’d have never gone.
“I should’ve known something was up. Slade was blowing my phone up the entire ride back, but I didn’t answer because I was on my bike, following my father. By the time I read his texts, it was too late.” I folded my arms behind my head and looked at the ceiling.
This was where shit got bad.
“What do you mean, too late?”
I scrubbed a hand over my forehead while memories buzzed in the back of my head.
“Niyol?” Summer asked on a whisper.
Instead of looking at her, I grabbed a smoke and tucked it behind my ear, then lowered my hands to hold my empty glass.
“I got back and found the DEA swarming our house just outside the gates.” I sniffed, the picture still fresh in my mind, even two years later.
Lights flashing, bikes stacked alongside the fence, guys I’d once considered uncles and brothers—family—all staring at me, pity in some of their eyes, disgust in others.
No matter, everyone’s hands were tied anyway. My father always got the last word.
“I remembered how smug Pops looked when he got off his bike and walked over to one of the suits.” He shook the fucker’s hand, sealing my fate. “Apparently, he’d asked for club immunity from the law to forgo all their debts, if he’d turn in his number one dealer. That dealer, supposedly, being me.”
Summer shook her head, disgust in her eyes. “Your own father set you up?”
I nodded. “While I’d been staying away, Pops made it look like the place was all mine, not his. He’d stashed part of the club’s drug supply inside. Even had the fucking balls to put a makeshift meth lab in there.” I scrubbed a hand over my face, trying to push the memories from out of my head, failing every second longer I kept talking. “He was so pissed that I’d taken off, that framing me was the only retaliation he had.”
“God, that’s awful,” Summer said with a hiss.
I shrugged. “As the president’s son, the jail time was easier punishment than what the club could’ve handed out.”
Summer leaned back. When I looked up at her again, I noticed her narrowed blue eyes focused on the table in thought. I swallowed at the view, wondering what was going through her mind.
“Why didn’t you stand up for yourself? Tell them the truth?” she finally asked.
“I wasn’t a r
at,” I grumbled. “Least not then. Plus, they didn’t believe me and everyone was too fucking scared to stand up to my old man.”
“Even your supposed friends? This Flick guy, too?” Summer’s upper lip curled in disgust.
“You don’t get what it was like. Pops had so much damn control over everything in everyone’s life that one wrong move and you, or even the people you loved, would be dead. Nobody was willing to risk it. Least not then. I accepted that fact.” Even though it didn’t make it any easier.
“But eventually you told the truth to the police, right? And they believed you?”
I shrugged. “People got sick of the way things were going down. Especially Flick. He’s the one who wound up gathering evidence to help clear my name and put my father behind bars instead.”
He’d gathered a bunch of my brothers for support, the first two to show were Archer and Slade, of course. It took them a long while to get everything together, to get their stories straight too, but I understood why. My father wasn’t the type to let shit go, and if he’d found out what was happening before he was taken away, then it wouldn’t have ended well for any of them.
“And you were in prison for two years?” Summer asked.
“Yeah.”
She frowned. “That’s a lot of time to hold onto secrets.”
“Better than the original five years I’d been sentenced with.”
The waitress interrupted, setting our plates down on the table. I glared at my food, not even hungry now. I’d already said too much. Opened my mouth and told her shit I’d never told no one. Not even Maya. Which meant now, more than ever, I needed to get out of there. Away from her. Get drunk. Pass out. Sleep. Something. Anything.
“I need to go.” Ignoring her wide, confused eyes, I dropped a fifty on the table, and said, “Don’t wait up.” Then without a glance back, I walked out the door—away from her and away from my memories most of all.
Eleven
Summer
My eyes shot open, finding the ceiling of a dark hotel room. Sweat dripped down the back of my neck, dipping into my shirt and soaking the collar. The sheets tangled around my restless legs, pinning me in place. Even if I could have moved, my mind was too paralyzed to let me because of the dream I’d just had.
Her Wild Ride: An addictive, steamy biker MC romance suspense novel Page 8