Outlaw Souls MC Box Set: Books 1-6

by Hope Stone

I knew my way around the kitchen because of the last time. As I took out a pan and some eggs, I decided that Claire should see my place too. I liked my privacy, but I didn’t want to be the type of guy who always showed up at the girl’s place and never allowed her into his space.

  It was nice to imagine Claire curled up in my bed sheets or surveying my fridge’s contents. I would give her a drawer in my dresser so she could put some spare clothes, and maybe even some space in my bathroom cabinet.

  It was foreign, this practice of thinking ahead. I had never considered stuff like making room for someone in my own apartment, and I had certainly never contemplated how a relationship would progress over time.

  I had always thought people who thought like that were stupid. Relationships couldn’t grow or progress, they could only deteriorate. At best, I figured relationships might grow for a while, but then they inevitably hit a plateau that was so difficult and infuriating that someone eventually took a stick of dynamite and blew up the entire thing.

  It was early days, I had to admit, but I couldn’t imagine Claire and I hitting a plateau. She was too full of life and too eager for adventure to ever get boring. And if things were difficult, I knew Claire well enough to know she would speak up. She would always tell it to me straight, and I would always be honest with her.

  I wasn’t so far gone to consider myself an expert on relationships, but I figured if we started with honesty and kindness, that was a good thing.

  I cracked a few eggs into a bowl and started to laugh to myself as I began to whisk them. How had I gone from the biggest anti-romantic on the West Coast to daydreaming about my perfect relationship, all while cooking breakfast for a woman?

  It was Claire, plain and simple. She was unlike anyone I had ever met. I couldn’t quite describe it, but it was the way she seemed to be in constant motion. Raul had said her eyes moved fast, and he was right. But it was only because she was so eager to consume life. She wanted to see everything, meet everyone and take it all into her whirring mind.

  The rest of her body moved fast as well, now that I thought about it. I had never seen Claire dilly-dally or walk slow. She moved from point A to point B with speed and a self-assured stride. That was probably why she enjoyed riding my bike so much. She relished in getting places fast.

  I put the eggs on heat, and then moved to the coffee machine. I didn’t drink much coffee, but I knew Claire downed it like crazy. It probably contributed to her boundless energy. It wasn’t just her energy that drew me to her though.

  There was something about her that matched me. I might not have realized it at first, or maybe I only recognized it subconsciously, but she understood me. She also had struggled with commitment and trusting that any relationship could be successful for the long-term. I knew she understood as soon as she explained her own past at the barbecue.

  It was cheesy, but that kind of stuff must be what people mean when they talk about “soulmates” and all that other shit. Or at least, I used to think it was bullshit. Now everything had shifted. With the right person, I didn’t have to feel fear. History didn’t have to repeat itself. I wasn’t going to walk in and find Claire in someone else’s arms. It was true, she might hurt me in other ways, but she wasn’t the type of person to cheat. She wasn’t like that.

  I would never cheat on her, and I would do everything I could to avoid hurting her. There was risk, of course. I knew there was always a risk, I hadn’t lost all my powers of reason and logic. I just now understood that the reward was worth the risk.

  I was grateful for my mother and Sara, in a twisted sort of way. If they hadn’t shown me all the ways a relationship could get fucked up, if they hadn’t made me wary of committing, I might not have found Claire. I might have jumped into some lesser relationship and not been at the Blue Dog Saloon on that fateful night.

  Now I was musing about things like fate and destiny. This truly was a bizarre turn of events. I didn’t care though. I was happy.

  I remembered something my mother had once said to me, back after I watched the fourth or fifth guy leave her high and dry. I was a bit older then, almost out of high school, and I had started talking back to her.

  She was sulking in the kitchen, downing a bottle of cheap wine and calling the guy over and over, leaving weepy voicemails. I could hear the spiraling through my bedroom wall. At last, I stormed into the kitchen.

  “He’s not coming back,” I said. “Just like the last one, and the one before that.”

  My mother didn’t even argue or respond. She just stared ahead in miserable silence.

  “You’re weak,” I told her. “And you keep making the same mistakes – when will you learn your lesson?”

  As soon as I said it, I felt bad. The anger trickled out of me, and I deflated. I didn’t apologize though. Everything I had said was true.

  After a few moments of silence, when I was about to turn around and leave my mother to her agony, she spoke.

  “You’ll understand someday,” she said. “You’ll understand when you meet someone who makes the very ground shift beneath your feet. After that, the whole world is different.”

  I scoffed and returned to my room. I didn’t want to hear any more about whatever sappy movie my mother had gotten that line out of.

  That was after Sara, and she certainly had not changed my worldview. Nothing earth-shaking about her, except for how she proved that love couldn’t be trusted. I doubted my mother even meant what she said. She couldn’t possibly want me to end up like her.

  Now, as I finished the scrambled eggs for Claire, I thought I might see what my mother had been trying to say. It wasn’t just love or lust or even respect. There was something else with Claire, a way she seemed to make everything a brighter color when she was around. When I was with her, I saw an entirely different future for myself, and I liked it far better than anything else I had seen.

  Quite simply, Claire had changed my worldview. The ground had moved, but it wasn’t caving in. There was no avalanche. It had shifted before I even realized it and resettled, and now I found myself on better footing. The earth was solid beneath me, but I could see everything better from my new vantage point.

  There was an overwhelming urge to swing by to see my mom today. I wasn’t about to say that I was wrong about everything, or that she had made amazing decisions, but I was willing to at least sympathize with where she had been coming from. She must have experienced something like what I had with Claire at least once, and she had longed for it so much that she kept trying to get that feeling back.

  Now that I knew what it was like to have someone who made you hope for a better life, I could see why she had rushed into relationships so fast. I didn’t know if I would be able to say all that, but I could at least smile at her. Ask how she was doing. Maybe even introduce her to Claire.

  My mom would love to hear PI stories from Claire – she adored reality TV and soap operas. Claire would be happy to regale her with some drama-filled anecdotes. We could even have dinner together, just us three. It would be the first quality time I had spent with my mother in a long while.

  With the eggs done, I set to work on a few strips of bacon. While they cooked, I grabbed plates and utensils. I had to open and close a few cabinets before I found the right one. I felt a little bad touching Claire’s things without her there. Obviously, there was nothing scandalous in her kitchen, but I didn’t want to be a snoop.

  It had been so long since I had spent any non-bedroom time in a woman’s apartment. I was unused to the rituals. But I could adapt. Claire and I would figure it out, one step at a time.

  I put the eggs and bacon onto a plate, poured the coffee into a mug, and took a second to marvel at my handiwork. Who knew I would prove so good at love and relationships?

  I froze, my hand holding the coffee pot suspended in mid-air. Was it love? Was I ready to call it that? I couldn’t say for certain. I knew I cared about Claire more than anyone I had ever met. I knew I wanted to try with her. Like I had told her
at the barbecue, I wanted to attempt to find the real deal. The whole shebang.

  I hadn’t said those words lightly. I hadn’t meant that I wanted to date seriously for a few months or years. I meant forever. What was the point of trying if it wasn’t forever?

  Claire had understood that, I was certain. Even so, I didn’t know if I was ready to say love. That was another heavy word, one I might save for a later day. I was on my way there, though, that was for certain. And I was definitely in the fast lane.

  Not today, but someday, I would tell her.

  The thought didn’t terrify me. In fact, it made me smile.

  I left the food on the counter and moved to clear her small kitchen table. I was excited to wake her up and watch her guzzle her coffee and just talk with her a bit.

  I pushed a few books and newspapers to one side of the table and grabbed her big purse from a chair. I just planned to move it to the couch really quickly, but it was placed sideways on the chair. When I picked it up, a dark green notebook fell to the floor.

  We had been in a rush last night, so Claire must not have been paying too much attention to where she placed her purse, I thought with a grin. I tossed the purse on the couch before bending down to scoop up the notebook. I had seen it on Claire before and I figured it must be her journal or day planner.

  It was private, that was for sure, and I had no intention of snooping through it.

  But it fell face down on the floor, with its cover open and pages splayed out. So that when I picked it up, I did see the top of one page. I just saw two words, but they were enough to make me stop in my tracks as my blood ran cold.

  Outlaw Souls.

  Those were the two words written in big letters across the top of one page. I held the book and looked straight ahead. I didn’t want to read it. I knew in that moment, reading whatever was in that book was not going to make me feel good. Yes, Claire could have just been writing a diary entry about me and biker clubs. Or she could have been penciling the barbecue into her schedule. There were plenty of innocent explanations.

  But when I saw those letters, written in such a neat and purposeful hand (every letter clearly defined), I knew there was no easy explanation. That wasn’t Claire. Whatever was in this notebook, it wasn’t innocent or simple. The back of my neck prickled with apprehension.

  I knew the notebook held nothing good, and yet I had to read it. I couldn’t just set it aside. Those were my people. My family. If Claire was writing about them in her notebook, I had to see for myself what she was saying.

  I could ask Claire about it, but I would never know if whatever she told me was the truth. And I had to know. There was no way forward if I didn’t know.

  Slowly, I turned the book in my hands and looked down. Claire had perfect handwriting. I don’t know why I fixated on that first, but she did. Every letter was formed with total preciseness. It made reading her notes easy.

  In a matter of seconds, I had my answers. I skimmed a few pages, then flipped back and read a few more pages with more care. An investigation.

  Claire was investigating the Outlaw Souls.

  She actually thought we were dealing drugs and stealing underaged girls and boys away from their families. She had met my brothers, shared food and laughed with them, but the whole time she was taking notes on them. The whole time, she was able to look them in the eyes while she suspected them of horrible things.

  And me. I was selfish enough that I wasn’t just furious about her suspicions of Outlaw Souls. I was angrier about how she had used me. Sleeping with me that first night after the club, inviting me over to eat takeout, going to the barbecue with me. And last night.

  It had all been an act. Her every move was orchestrated to wind me around her little finger. She had wanted me to let my guard down so she could start to pry. And I had been too stupid to see any of it. Claire wasn’t just naturally curious about the club, she had asked specific questions to help her fish for details about our lifestyle and income. She probably hadn’t even enjoyed the bike ride, she had just pretended to so I would invite her into my life a little bit more.

  Everything had been a deception. Every touch, every kiss, perhaps even her moans of passion.

  I had laid my heart bare for her. I had told her things I had never told anyone. The story she recited back was probably fabricated in the moment. And I had drank it up. Believed every word.

  I was an idiot. Despite everything I had seen in my life, despite the fact that I of all people should have known better, I fell for her act hook, line and sinker.

  I knew I should rage. I should want to throw the book across the room and start tearing her apartment apart. I knew I should scream at her until she woke up. But for the first few seconds, as everything settled in, I felt nothing. My heart was utterly iced over. My mind was moving fast, but my emotions had paused.

  The ground had not shifted, but everything else was crumbling down around me.

  I heard rustling from the bedroom behind me, and then the sound of Claire’s footfalls. I turned and saw her in the doorway, and that’s when the anger began to rise.

  Claire

  I swung my legs over the bed and reached my arms above my head for a satisfying stretch.

  Once I had fallen asleep, it had been a long and dreamless slumber. I smiled as I glanced at the indent where Pin had lain. I had heard him in the kitchen as I drifted in and out of sleep, but it was quiet now, so I figured it was time to eat.

  I still knew I had to tell him the truth about the investigation today, but somehow the morning made everything seem a bit better. With the sun shining, and the smell of coffee wafting through the air, I was feeling more optimistic.

  In the dark of night, it had been easy to think my mistakes might cost me Pin. But in the morning, I had more confidence in my ability to tell the story in a way that made him understand.

  As for convincing him that my feelings for him were real, that had to be possible. They were real. My feelings had never been so strong for anyone, he had to see the truth in that at least. With breakfast in my stomach and some coffee in my hand, I could do this.

  I slipped off my bed and grabbed a baggy white t-shirt from my dresser drawer. I pulled on some underwear and splashed some water on my face. I smiled at my reflection. I had never been fussy about hair and makeup to begin with, and I also knew that Pin didn’t care. He liked me as I was. The sexiness of that nearly took my breath away.

  I popped out of the bathroom and headed towards my bedroom door. I was about to call out a greeting when I saw him.

  He was standing stock-still in the middle of my living room, his back turned from me.

  In his hands was my notebook. My dark green notebook with all the details of the current case. It was open, and he was reading it.

  I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t talk. I could only stare in horror as he turned. If I had hoped that maybe he hadn’t read that much or didn’t understand, that hope vanished when I saw his expression.

  A million emotions rippled across his face. Hurt and pain and shock. But most of all fury. He had a right to that. He had a right to feel anger.

  “Pin,” I gasped. “It’s not what you think.”

  His eyes hardened, and I didn’t dare go nearer. I knew Pin would never strike me, no matter how livid he was, but I also didn’t want to make him storm out. I wanted to explain. It was happening all wrong, but I could still explain.

  “So it’s not a notebook about how you think the Outlaw Souls have kidnapped children and are using them to deal drugs,” Pin said.

  His voice was low and lethal. I had never heard him sound so flat and cold.

  “It’s an investigation,” I said.

  I wanted to cry, and I could feel my lower lip trembling, but I held it steady. I was made of stronger stuff than that. I could stay tough through this.

  “Those teens are missing, and Outlaw Souls were the main suspects when the case was assigned,” I said.

  “Oh, I see,” Pin said. “
And lucky it got assigned to a whore like you who had zero problems fucking me until I gave you the answers you wanted.”

  “Don’t call me that!” I shouted.

  “Why?” Pin asked. “It’s what you are.”

  It infuriated me how he kept his voice so quiet when all I could do was nearly scream. My own anger began to boil in my stomach.

  “I am not a whore,” I cried. “And I didn’t mean for things to happen the way they did, I promise, just let me explain.”

  “No,” Pin said. “You don’t get to explain – how am I supposed to believe a word that comes out of your fucking mouth?”

  Now he was raising his voice. His fury was overriding his control, and he was pointing at me with one angry hand while he still gripped the notebook in his other.

  “I know now that the Outlaw Souls didn’t do anything,” I said. “But a few days ago, I didn’t. I had to follow the lead I was given.”

  Pin turned and slammed the notebook down on the table.

  “You did not have to text me,” Pin said. “You did not have to lie to me over and over – you’re just telling yourself you had no choice because that’s what people like you do, you step on everyone to get what you want, and then say you were just doing what you had to.”

  I hated how his words sounded true. He was wrong about me. I hadn’t slept with him for my job. But some of his sentences still rang true.

  “I wasn’t faking my feelings,” I said. “You have to believe me.”

  “Fuck you, Claire,” Pin said. “I don’t have to believe a thing you say.”

  I recoiled from him as if he had hit me. It almost felt like he had, his words landing like missiles on my face. A lump rose in my throat. I didn’t want to cry in front of him, not while he was yelling at me like this. He couldn’t see my tears.

  I swallowed the lump and surged forward.

  “Fuck you!” I screamed. “Kids are missing, Pin, and I have to find them. I don’t care if you’re too self-centered to listen.”

  “We didn’t take anyone!” Pin shouted. “We would never, we’re not Las Balas! We have a code, and if you weren’t such a shitty PI, you would have realized that in a matter of seconds!”