by Karen Renee
Again, words spilled from his mouth without thought.
“Steph, come with us.”
Chapter 18
Where I Draw the Line
Stephanie
I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT Har was thinking, but he was crazy if he thought I would do anything in his room with him and Layla. Compliments of Turk and Beast, though, I knew better than to argue with him in front of others. Especially these other women.
To say I hadn’t made the best impression on the other women was an understatement.
When I settled at the bar with my whiskey sour, Layla had been holding court with three women who were dressed in Daisy-Dukes and tank tops. Layla wore a skin-tight cobalt t-shirt and a denim skirt. Either she’d had a few or Layla was one of those women who naturally spoke louder than necessary, because from three seats down the bar, I heard her saying, “And I am dying to find out who the new person is tonight. I parked my car not ten minutes ago, and walking by Cynic’s bike, I saw another bike with flames on it. And let me tell you, it is fucking hot. Better than that, it’s also next to Har’s bike, so who knows? Maybe it belongs to a buddy of his.”
I couldn’t help but tilt my head in a conciliatory nod about my bike being hot since she was far from wrong.
She caught it and narrowed her eyes at me. “Who are you? Do you know who the new guy is?”
I grinned. “No, but I know who the bike belongs to, because I’m the owner of the shit-hot bike parked next to Cynic’s.”
Her face fell for a moment, but she covered it by sipping her martini.
Before Sandy could make an introduction, Layla speared me with her eyes. “Look, it’s nice that you have a bike and all, but our men... they don’t like women who are too, shall we say, aggressive. You might want to cut your losses while you can.”
Sandy laughed. “Layla, you should pay attention. But just because this young woman has a bike doesn’t mean she’s aggressive.”
Har walked up to the bar, paying me no mind. He stopped near Layla and I felt my hackles rising.
The way Layla answered him, going out of her way to call him ‘Harm,’ raised a red flag, which was the first reason I didn’t shout when he told her she was in his room. The second reason was the tone of his voice. He may have ordered her to his room, but it wasn’t laced with anything sexual. Still, I despised the idea of her in his room with him.
The catty smile she wore told me she thought she could get to me.
Not hardly.
But the idea that I had to be in that room with them, caught me by surprise.
Now, here I was following Har, until he paused, then slung his arm around my neck. His goatee tickled my ear when he whispered, “How long before your food’s up?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “Ten minutes, I think. Why?”
“Can your thing be moved to my room? Or do you have to fight with it again like before?”
I exhaled sharply through my nose. “I didn’t have to fight with it, but yes. I can bring it back to your room.” A thought hit me and I lowered my voice. “Unless you’re planning for her to eat it, which is where I draw the line.”
His head tipped back and he laughed straight from his gut. I peeked up at him. My breath caught. He had the best smile, but when he laughed like that his smile hit the stratosphere with its power.
As quick as the laughter started, it stopped, and he nuzzled my neck. From the corner of my eye, I saw Layla staring.
“Get it and be quick, baby. I gotta talk to Layla, but I want you there for all of it.”
Two minutes later, as I trudged down the hall carrying the pot, I saw Har leaning against the wall outside his room while Layla leaned against the doorjamb shooting me a dirty look.
I took the pot into his room and put it on the dresser. To my surprise neither had moved away from the door.
Slowly, Har guided Layla into the room, closing the door behind him.
He moved toward me, and once I was in arm’s reach, he put an arm around my back, pulling me to him. His lips went to my neck, where he kissed me, then at my ear he whispered, “Don’t let her get to you, baby.”
He lifted his head while keeping me tucked to his side.
Layla stared at us, an unhappy look washing over her face. “I mean no disrespect, Har, but I only do threesomes with men. She’s pretty and all, but I prefer being between you and Brute.”
The way he exhaled, I knew he hid a sigh. “What color is your sister Callie’s car? It’s black, right?”
Her lips tipped up. “Yeah, but why—”
“And it’s an Audi. The low-end model, A3, right?”
Her face fell. “What? I don’t...”
“Answer me,” he snapped.
Her head shook a little at his words. “I don’t know, Har.”
“Bullshit.”
From the gleam in her eyes, I knew she was warring between being bitchy and showing him respect.
“The bullshit is you bringing me back here and grilling me with your latest side-piece around.”
“Need to watch yourself, Lay. How many times did Mass have to hit Wreck to break his nose?”
“How the hell would I know?”
He let me go and stalked to her. “Where’s our product?”
“What prod—”
“Get smart, bitch. You’ve disrespected me twice. I’ll have Brute kick your ass out. Where is the product from Massive’s bike?”
Her chin jutted out mulishly. “Fuck you and fuck this. Kick me out. I don’t give a shit.”
His eyes narrowed. He pulled his phone from his back pocket. “Stephie, stand at the door.”
I did as told, ignoring Layla’s angry eyes on me.
“You don’t care he shared women with your brother?”
“Shut the fuck up. You don’t talk to her.”
She glared at Har. “What makes her so damn special? Because she rides her own bike?”
Har had the phone to his ear. “Brute. Get two of the prospects and come to my room. Bring the jewelry.”
My mind tripped over why Brute would have jewelry, until I realized he meant bracelets – as in handcuffs.
The realization dawned on Layla at the same time. She squinted at Har. “It’s a shame the brick didn’t hit her.”
Quick as a snake, Har gripped her neck and shoved her against the wall.
“What the hell?” he whispered, his enraged eyes on Layla.
Her eyes filled with fear, and she didn’t speak.
“You threw that fuckin’ brick to hit my woman?”
My woman? Those words sent a frisson of warmth through my whole body.
Layla’s response derailed my thoughts. “I didn’t throw it. Diana, the blonde you brought back here a few weeks ago, did.”
I blinked to hide the hurt in my eyes. It was before he made his move, and since it was that brick which forced us together in his bed, I supposed I should thank the bitch. When I opened my eyes, Layla looked satisfied. But my growing smile forced her expression to falter.
Har looked at me. “Are you about to laugh?”
I chuckled. “I was fighting it, but yeah. I find it kinda funny.”
“You’re fuckin’ warped.”
I heard footsteps approaching and moved before Brute pushed into the room. The two prospects stepped inside behind him and closed the door.
“What the hell, man?” Brute asked, looking at Har’s hand holding Layla by the throat.
“Cuffs, man. This bitch isn’t answering my questions, but she knew who threw the brick through my window on Friday. Which tells me she knew Diana was planning that shit. Not very loyal to the Riot, now is it?”
Brute pushed his lips out in a judgmental pout. “No, sure isn’t.”
“Also won’t tell me about her sister’s car, which I recall is an Audi.”
One of the prospects breathed out, “Fuck, he’s right.”
Har looked to him. “What do you mean? Her sister’s been here once, and that was before you were even a han
g-around.”
The prospect hesitated for a moment. “Remember that blonde who was all over Brute until you showed up? She got dropped off in an Audi. Hit me strange, but then with legs like hers I figured she could get anybody to give her a ride to hell and back.”
For some reason, his words about Diana hurt me more than Layla’s. Har glanced at me, read my face, and shook his head just a touch. I knew he didn’t want me to dwell on that woman, but that was far easier said than done.
Brute took hold of Layla’s hand. She tried to snatch it away, but Har’s knuckles grew more pronounced as he tightened his grip making her gasp. He didn’t let up on her until Brute had her restrained.
She coughed and spluttered, her eyes vicious on Har. She took in a big breath as she stopped coughing and I knew she was about to scream.
Brute noticed too, because he wrapped his huge mitt over her mouth. “Don’t even think about it, bitch. You didn’t just do a brother wrong, you did our president wrong and there’s major consequences for that shit.”
Har examined his boots for a beat, then he went to the dresser and pulled out a bandana. He handed it to Brute. “Take her to the shed. Gag her once you get her there – or gag her now if you don’t think you can keep her quiet. The prospects are gonna have to watch her.”
“Why aren’t we just tossing her ass out?”
He sighed. “Believe me, I want to, but right now all I know for certain is that she’s responsible for the woman who threw a brick in my house meant for Stephanie—”
“How am I responsible?” Layla yelled.
“Your sister brought her here. I got a prospect telling me that shit. Right now I believe him over anything you got to say, but is that right or not?”
“Yes,” she snarled.
“You knew she threw that brick in my house two fuckin’ nights ago, and didn’t say shit about it. Can’t trust you to tell me the truth, but I have no doubt you knew she was up to that shit.”
She looked at her feet. “I’m sorry,” she muttered.
“You’re a sorry excuse is more like it,” Brute said.
“It doesn’t mean I should be cuffed and left in the shed.”
“Yeah, it does. Otherwise, how will you or any other groupie learn their fuckin’ lessons?” Brute asked.
Har gave him a chin lift. Brute took hold of Layla’s bicep to shove her forward, but she didn’t move.
“I’m not goin’,” she shouted.
Brute’s face shifted to the most devious look I’d ever seen on him as he smiled. He shouted, “That’s right, because you’re comin’.”
He shoved the bandana into her mouth. I couldn’t stand to watch, and turned to the dresser. It bothered me because I didn’t like to see any woman brutalized, but also because I thought of Brute as family. Distant, but still family. I couldn’t believe he could do something like that. Plus, even though I didn’t like Layla, at all, I felt like, as women we should stick together, but I knew that wasn’t my place here.
The door closed and Har’s arms wrapped around me from behind. “Sorry, baby.”
I put a hand on his forearm. “I’m all right. I just didn’t think Sammy had that in him.”
His chin settled on my shoulder. “He’s Brute to you here, baby. Sorry to say it, but it’s the truth. And anybody does the brothers wrong, they get treated the same. Don’t think it’s him being brutal with a woman because she’s a woman. He’s being harsh with her because she fucked me over.”
I nodded. “I know. I get that, and that’s why I said I’m all right.”
He ran his nose along my jaw. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah,” I said, but before I could say more, the Instant Pot beeped. The roast was done.
He squeezed me. “I gotta take care of some shit, but I’ll be back soon.”
Har
HAR MEANDERED THROUGH the common room, not surprised to see many of the brothers had cleared out. Joules and Sandy were at the bar with Tiny and Gamble. A sweet-butt was a stool down from Gamble, entranced by her phone.
He leaned his arms onto the bar near Joules. “Massive and Wreck around?”
Sandy cackled. Joules glared at her a moment, then said, “No. Lingered at the church table until Cynic had to clear them out. They heard you took Layla to your room, and they left.”
“Thanks. You two stayin’ tonight?”
“No. Planning to head out, but I wanted to make sure Brute didn’t need help.”
Tiny caught his eyes. “Nothin’ quite like a fire to get everyone to leave, brother. I’m headed out when Brute comes back in, too.”
Har nodded while looking to Gamble. “You out too, man?”
He stroked his beard. “Should be, but the fuckin’ smell comin’ from your room has me damn curious. You takin’ a head count for security purposes or dinner purposes?”
He gave a quick chuckle. “Both. And, I’m not certain, but I suspect that roast will serve at least eight people, so you’re welcome to it, Gamble.”
Gamble gave him a chin lift. “Brute took Layla to the shed, right?”
Har watched the sweet-butt at the end of the bar, tipped his head to her, and asked Gamble, “You got plans with her?”
Gamble swung his head her way and scowled. “No.”
Tiny caught Har’s eyes and shook his head.
“Hey,” he called to her. “There a reason you’re still hanging around?”
She looked up from her phone and shrugged a shoulder. “Thought somebody would want a good time.”
He heard someone clomp into the room. “Riley, you can go. Not happenin’ tonight,” Brute said.
She pouted, but slid off her stool and left.
When Gamble caught his eyes again, Har said, “Yeah. He took her to the shed, and I’ll try askin’ her some more shit when we’re done eating dinner.”
Sandy put her beer bottle down hard. “Let me at her. I’ll get her talk.”
“That is the last thing we need,” Joules muttered.
“She might have a point,” Har said.
Joules gave him a questioning look.
Har shrugged. “A woman-to-woman chat might help.”
Joules dipped his chin. “That won’t happen. Those two are like oil and water. Always have been.” He lifted his chin at Brute. “Tiny and I stuck around in case you needed help, so are we good, Veep?”
Brute leaned on the bar next to Har. “What do you say, Prez? We good?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for stickin’ around.”
Once he turned around, Brute asked, “Where you headed?”
“I’m gonna see if she’ll talk to me one last time.”
“Not after you eat?”
He shook his head. “Changed my mind. It’ll bug the hell out of me while I’m eating otherwise.”
On his way to the back door, he saw Stephanie looking through drawers in the kitchen. “What are you lookin’ for, Miss Priss?”
She glared at him. “If I can only call you ‘Har’ when—”
“Nope.”
Her face fell. “Excuse me?”
“No. This isn’t like at the house. Gonna call you whatever I want as the mood strikes me. Now. What are you looking for?”
She pouted at him for a moment, then powered through. “I need a knife for cutting the roast, but first I have to get it out of the damn pot, so a big fork would be good, or I’ll use these two forks.”
He grinned, sauntered to the drawer next to her, and pulled out a serving fork. “This do?”
She sighed. “Yes. And it figures it was in the only drawer I hadn’t checked.”
“You got enough to feed six other people?”
Her eyes flared. He loved making her react that way for some strange reason.
“I suppose it will. Are six other people eating with us?”
He grinned. “Probably four, but wanted to give you a heads-up. Plates are in the cabinet over there. I’ll be back in about twenty minutes.”
Her brows furrowed. “
You going somewhere on your bike?”
He turned his head a fraction in question.
“Well, you had a cocktail, sir. Forgive me for being a little worried.”
He smiled. “No. Gonna see if Layla will answer my questions. If not, I’ll be back. She gets chatty, might be a bit, and if that happens, tell Brute to join me.”
She raised her free hand in a mock salute.
“Don’t get cute with me.”
She grinned. “Get your shit done. Since it doesn’t need gravy, my pot roast can’t be beat, so you snooze you lose.”
He shook his head. “Cocky doesn’t look good on you, baby.”
HAR UNLOCKED THE PADLOCK to the shed, and tilted his head for the prospect to leave. “Come back in five minutes, man.”
“Not leaving, sir. Gonna be right outside the door.”
He nodded. A chair sat to the side; he grabbed it, turned it backward, and straddled it.
Layla kept her eyes glued to the wall, but he knew she was paying attention to his every move.
He blew out a long breath. “I fucked up with you.”
Her eyes cut to him and then went back to the wall.
He expected her to say something. Maybe that lie had been too blatant.
“Since you’re keeping quiet, here’s what I think. You figure a bunch of outlaw bikers aren’t gonna call the cops in for their problems. You don’t expect the fuckin’ fire department to show when somebody tosses what should’ve been a firebomb into our clubhouse. And you don’t expect so much damage because you insisted on having that window wide open.”
“I wasn’t even here when shit happened,” she snapped.
He dipped his chin as though he believed her. “Okay, but going out on a limb, you sent the bitch here who insisted on the windows being open. Seeing as everything went to hell, there’s no real way for us to know. But, I trust my gut implicitly.”
“Implicitly,” she sneered.
He crossed his arms on top of the chair back. “Here’s the thing about me, Lay. Maybe you don’t know this. I don’t just cause harm to others. I’m willing to do shit that might even harm myself. So, we’ve got camera footage of the car. My hunch is Block is trying to get a decent rendering of the plate on that car, and once he does... I’m taking it to the Fire Department.”