Vicious Cycle

by Katie Ashley

  He tossed the pool stick on the table and took a long drag on his cigarette, then stubbed it out in an ashtray on the table. “What do you want?” he demanded.

  I didn’t need to glance around the room to know that every eye in the place was on us. “I really need to speak with you for a moment.”

  His dark eyes narrowed as they raked over my body. The next thing I knew, he leaped at me, knocking me back into the wall. One of his hands came to grip my throat while his body pinned me in place. Fear like I had never known overwhelmed me, sending my heartbeat drumming wildly in my ears. It was so loud it felt like a cannon blast going off around me. “Please,” I murmured.

  David glared at me as his thumb pressed harder into my throat. “They’re really falling down on their job at the academy.”

  “E-excuse m-me?” I stammered.

  With a smirk, he replied, “Don’t they train you ATF bitches to hide your fear a little better? I mean, you’re practically pissing your pants right now, not to mention your heart is beating ninety to nothing.”

  I shook my head slowly back and forth as I tried processing his words. “ATF? I don’t understand.”

  He rolled his eyes. “A white-bread piece of ass comes waltzing into my clubhouse, wanting to talk to me alone. It doesn’t take a fucking genius to realize you’re a Fed.”

  A Fed? It took me a moment to process what he meant. Holy shit. He thought I worked for the government as an agent of some sort. Quickly, I replied, “No, I’m not.”

  A voice came from behind him. “Deacon, man, you’re gonna get your ass jacked up even further for this.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, Deacon said to the young, blond-haired man, “Stay out of this, Bishop.”

  Bishop held up his hands. “Fine. It’s your fucking funeral.”

  David’s hand slid down my throat to the buttons on my dress. Glancing over his shoulder at the others, he questioned, “What do you bet she’s wired up under her tits?”

  When his hands started to rip open my dress, I couldn’t hold back my scream. “No, stop! I’m not who you think I am. I swear!” I protested.

  “Then just who the hell are you?” he demanded.

  Before I could answer, a tiny voice came from behind us. “Miss Alex?”

  The sound of Willow’s voice caused David to release his hold on my dress, but his body still kept me pinned to the wall. At that same moment, Rev entered the clubhouse. When he saw me, his eyes bulged, and he broke into a run to reach us. Grabbing David’s shoulders, he slung him away from me. “For fuck’s sake, Deacon, what the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m giving this undercover ATF bitch what she deserves,” Deacon spat, taking a step back toward me.

  “Christ, she’s not ATF,” Rev countered.

  “Oh, then who the hell is she?”

  “She’s my teacher … and my friend,” Willow answered in a small voice.

  David, or Deacon, stared open-mouthed from me to Willow. “I think that’s the most I’ve heard you say since you got here.”

  Willow didn’t respond to him. Instead, she came bounding over to me and threw her arms around my waist. “I’ve missed you, Miss Alex.”

  Leaning over, I kissed the top of her head. “I’ve missed you, too, sweetheart. I’ve been worried about you since you haven’t been in school.”

  She gazed up at me, her lips pulling into a frown. “Deacon says I need to stay close to home because someone wants to hurt me.” Clinging to me tighter, she whispered, “I think it’s Mean Man.”

  I squeezed her tight. No child her age should have to go through all she had, not to mention what she seemed to be still experiencing with her new life. I knew through her grandmother that she was in outside therapy twice a week, along with the daily check-ins she did with our school psychologist. It was almost miraculous the strides she was making.

  As I swayed her back and forth in my arms, I couldn’t help wondering exactly how she fit into the biker world. Her father sure hadn’t been what I was expecting. I’d expected someone negligent, not the surly, aggressive man who had greeted me so forcefully. How was it possible he cared for Willow? He didn’t seem to have a tenderhearted bone in his body, and Willow so desperately needed tenderness in her life.

  Wanting to cheer her up, I plastered a smile on my face. “I have some things for you.”

  “You do?” she asked, her dark eyes dancing with excitement.

  Nodding, I bent down to pick up my bag where it had fallen during my scuffle with Deacon. I pulled out the card I’d had the other children make, along with some of the small art projects she had missed. “Everyone in your class is missing you. I didn’t want you to get behind, so I brought some of the work you’ve missed. Why don’t you go start on some of it while I talk to your daddy?”

  She grinned. “Okay.”

  The busty woman held out her hand, and Willow happily took it. When they took a seat at the bar across the room from us, I exhaled a long breath. Willow’s world seemed too overwhelming. “Mr. Malloy, we need to talk.”

  Deacon ran his hand through his thick, dark hair. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “How about starting with ‘sorry,’ you asshole?” Rev suggested, glowering at him.

  Deacon stared at me intently as if he were seeing me for the first time. “I’m sorry. I really thought you were someone else.”

  After smoothing down my dress where it had been manhandled by Deacon, I tried gathering my wits. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to form any coherent thoughts. With Willow, I was in my element and could easily find the right words to say. Her father was a different story. “Do you often welcome strangers by manhandling them?” I asked.

  His brows rose at my words and tone. “I’m sorry that I mistook you for an ATF agent.” He gestured to me. “It’s not like we see your kind around here a lot unless they’re a Fed and looking for an angle.”

  “I don’t think I even want to ask why a simple bar and pawnshop would raise the attention of federal agents.”

  “No, babe, you don’t.”

  I had to bite my tongue to keep from telling him to stop calling me something so sexist. At the same time as I was enraged by his behavior, goose bumps of attraction rose along my arms. I couldn’t believe I was slightly turned on by this asshole.

  He motioned me to follow him with a flick of his hand. “Come on.”

  After exchanging a glance with Rev, I reluctantly followed Deacon into a room to the left of the bar. When he shut the door behind us, I couldn’t help jumping at the sound. A slow smirk curved across his lips. “Do I make you nervous?”

  Licking my dry lips, I replied, “Just a little.”

  “What about Rev? Does he make you nervous?”

  I shook my head. “No, he doesn’t.”

  Deacon crossed his arms over his chest. “And why is that?”

  “Regardless of his size, there is a kindness about him. Plus, he came to my rescue back there.” Jerking my chin up, I said, “I couldn’t imagine him ever hurting anyone.”

  A grin slunk across Deacon’s face. “So naive, aren’t you, babe?”

  “It’s Miss Evans.” I took a step back from him. “Did you have a point in bringing me in here besides giving me a hard time?”

  “I brought you in here so we could talk about my daughter in private.” He then strode past me. After pulling out one of the chairs at a long table, he gestured for me to take a seat. Reluctantly, I walked over and eased down onto the plush leather. Instead of sitting beside me, he walked over to take the seat across from me. After he leaned back in his chair, he pursed his lips at me. “So talk.”

  “I’m very concerned that Willow has missed almost a week of school. She’s far too bright not to be in class. I see now that she isn’t sick.” Leaning forward with my elbows on the table, I asked, “What is this about you keeping her out because it isn’t safe?”

  Deacon’s expression darkened. “That’s none of your fucking business.”
r />   “You may not think so, but I’m sure CPS might see things differently.”

  “Are you threatening me, Miss Evans?” he questioned. The harshness of his tone, coupled with his slightly menacing expression, made me burrow deeper into the chair to try to escape him.

  “I—I’m just stating facts, Mr. Malloy,” I replied, my voice cracking from nerves.

  He shook his head. “You have a lot of fucking nerve, coming into my club and trying to run my life.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing at all. I just want what is best for Willow.”

  “I think as her father I know what is best for her,” he countered.

  “With all due respect, you’ve only been her father for a few months.”

  Deacon shot out of his chair. “Get out!”

  Even though my legs shook with fear, I held my ground. “No.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said no,” I whispered.

  Deacon’s dark eyes widened. “Would you prefer me to throw you out?”

  When he started around the table, I held up my hand. “Please, just listen to me for a minute.” He froze and stared expectantly at me. “Regardless of whatever dangers there are in your world or whether you’re suitable to be a parent, I don’t think that Willow should be taken away from you. She’s been through too much trauma to be taken from those she loves. I can tell she’s happy here … that she’s loved here.”

  He cocked his brows questioningly at me. “You mean that?”

  “Yes, I really do.”

  “Then why are you on my ass, woman?” he demanded.

  A nervous laugh bubbled from my lips. “I’m sorry, but I have to look out for what is best for my students. I’m sure you think that what you’re doing is the right thing to protect Willow, but she needs to be in school. She needs the interaction with other children. She thrives when she is in school.” At Deacon’s eye roll, I pressed on. “Did you know I’m recommending her to be placed in the first grade in December?”

  “Is she too much of a problem for you?” he snapped sarcastically.

  “Willow is never a problem to me. If I was totally honest, she’s my favorite. I’ll be devastated to lose her.”

  Deacon’s expression lightened a little. “So what, she’s really smart or something?”

  “Yes. She’s a very bright and capable student. She grasps concepts quicker than my other students. I think she’ll excel at being challenged in the first grade rather than having to stay in kindergarten.”

  As he weighed my words, Deacon’s hand came up to rub the hair along his chin. “I don’t know what to say. I had no idea she was so smart.” With a wry grin, he said, “I sure as hell don’t know where she gets it from.”

  “I’m sure she gets a little from you and from her late mother.”

  The mention of Willow’s mother sent a scowl across Deacon’s face. “Look, you’re an outsider, so I’m not going to tell you all of my business. But hear me when I say that I’m not comfortable letting Willow out of my sight right now. She needs to be here in the compound, where I know she’s safe.”

  “Someone is threatening to hurt her?”

  “Some people want to hurt me, and they’ll use whatever means necessary to get to me, including hurting my kid.”

  I sucked in a harsh breath at the thought of anyone hurting sweet Willow. While I didn’t agree with Deacon’s world, I had to give him credit for trying, in his own misguided way, to keep his daughter safe. There had to be some solution to the problem.

  As if he had read my mind, Deacon came around the table and sat beside me. “Is there some way to hire a tutor or something? You know, someone who could come here and teach Willow? Then you and the authorities could get off my back.”

  Over the years, I’d had a couple of students have to go on homebound services for lengthy illnesses. I’d been more than happy to go teach them after school. Besides the occasional relationship or get-together with friends, I didn’t have much going on outside of my classroom. There was no husband to be home for, no dinner to get on the table at a certain time, and sadly, no kids to take care of. Besides my brother and aunt and uncle, I was pretty much on my own. My students were my life.

  “I could do it—I could come after school to teach Willow.”

  Deacon eyed me with a skeptical expression. “You’d really be okay with that?”

  “Sure. I’d love to teach her.” Nibbling on my lip, I contemplated what needed to be done logistically to make that happen. “Since she isn’t sick or suffering from an injury, she wouldn’t qualify for homebound services from the county.”

  Deacon’s brows creased. “What does that mean?”

  “It just means my salary wouldn’t be covered. You would have to pay out-of-pocket.”

  A gleam burned in his eyes. “I know I might look like a low-life biker, but I can assure you I can provide financially for whatever Willow needs.”

  My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and I quickly ducked my head. “I apologize if I offended you. I certainly wasn’t implying anything. I was just trying to work this all out in my head.” After drawing in a deep breath to calm my nerves, I barreled on. “I’ve done homebound services before, so I know what all it entails. It also makes sense for me to do it since I would know exactly what Willow would be doing if she were in the classroom.” Leaning forward in my chair, I jerked my head up to give him a tentative smile. “If you’re not sold on me, I could recommend someone else for the job. But I can’t imagine Willow being comfortable with just anyone.”

  “No, she wouldn’t. And for some reason, she’s really taken a serious fucking liking to you.”

  “I assume that was a compliment?”

  The corners of Deacon’s lips quirked. “Yeah, it was a compliment. Willow doesn’t interact with anyone outside our club. And even though she’s spoiled fucking rotten here, she doesn’t react half as much with us as she did out there with you.” He shook his head. “And, man, the fact she was talking, too.”

  “I’m glad she’s bonded with me. I care about her very much.”

  “Enough to come here to this hellhole every afternoon?”

  I nodded. “Yes. That much.”

  Deacon rose out of his chair. Thrusting his hand at me, he said, “Well, I guess you have yourself a job, Miss Evans.”

  Rising up to meet him, I let him take my hand in his. “I accept, Mr. Malloy.”

  “Then let’s go tell Willow the happy news.”

  As I followed him to the door, I could never have imagined in that moment how being a part of Deacon and Willow’s world was going to change my life.

  “That’s it. Give me your best, you pussy!” I antagonized, dodging the punches that whirled at my head. Adrenaline thrummed through my veins, pumping energy through my arms and legs. No drug or drink ever got me as high as fighting. I dug the feel of my fists connecting with the hard bone of the jaw or the soft flesh of the abdomen as things escalated quickly into a whirlwind of hits.

  My boots dragged across the canvas of the boxing ring as I made quick footwork. They didn’t make the best choice for sparring, but when I had come down to the Raiders Gym to check on business, I hadn’t expected to fill in as the chief second, or the head trainer, for Bishop.

  While I’d learned to use my fists to survive on the streets, Bishop had honed his fighting skills in the ring. Before the Raiders bought the gym, Preacher Man had often brought us here to work off steam. It wasn’t long before Bishop was knocking out seasoned fighters. He’d won several division titles and probably could have gone pro, but the higher he rose in the sport, the more people wanted to stick their nose into his private life—primarily the club.

  To the average onlooker, the gym, with its boxing and martial-arts training, looked legitimate, but it was all a front. For the club, it was a way to manage interstate gambling on fights and races. Bishop didn’t want to do anything that would bring heat down on the club, so he continued boxing in the lower divisions.

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nbsp; Even as stealthily as Bishop moved across the floor, deflecting my hits and throwing his own back at me, I could tell he was off his usual game. “This is turning into quite a walkover, little bro.”

  “Easy fight, my ass! You’re panting and in a sweat,” Bishop challenged.

  “These jeans and boots aren’t exactly lightweight.”

  Bobbing and weaving in front of me like a cobra, Bishop anticipated my next move. When I remained still, he shrugged. “I just had a late night—that’s all.”

  “Dumbass, you know better than to bang club whores the night before a major training day.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “Then what kept you up?” I asked.

  He dodged my unexpected jab and flashed me a wicked smile. “Guess you could say I’m hot for the teacher. I kept jerking off to Miss Evans.”

  I froze on the spot. “What the fuck did you just say?”

  Bishop’s laugh echoed around us. “Yeah, I’m man enough to admit I was jerking off rather than fucking some club whore ass.” When I continued staring at him, Bishop stopped hopping around. “Come on, bro. After you’ve seen a fine, white-bread piece of ass like that, it’s hard to take some sloppy seconds to your bed. I mean, I only got to see her for, like, five minutes, but you had your hands all over her.” He closed his eyes. “Can you imagine how fucking tight she would be?”

  I threw a hard right hook to his jaw before I could stop myself. Bishop staggered back. Shaking his head, he rubbed his gloved hand along his reddened jaw. “Deacon, what the fuck, man?” he demanded.

  “Don’t be talking like that about Willow’s teacher.”

  “Well, I sure wouldn’t do it in front of her, but I thought you and I were on the same page when it came to pussy.”