by Hope Stone
I finished up my meal while Blade swept up the broken glass and finished setting the table. The roasted beef was sliced on a platter, and there were bowls of glazed carrots and mashed potatoes on the stove. I’d followed recipes that I had found written on index cards in my mom’s handwriting in a small metal box. It was a little nerve-wracking to cook such a nice meal by myself for the first time, but it also brought back some of the best memories that I had of my mom. Just the smells wafting through the house seemed to transport me back in time.
“This looks amazing, Kitten,” Blade said, coming up behind me and kissing the side of my neck.
“Thank you,” I said as pride ballooned within me.
He reached around and tried to snag a piece of beef, but I slapped his hand away. “No way, mister. This is for everyone.”
He pouted playfully. “Haven’t you ever heard of quality control? Someone should taste it to make sure it tastes good. I’m willing to take the risk for you.”
I turned around, putting my arms around his neck. “You’re such a hero.”
Blade took my lips in a kiss, but at that moment, the door of the house opened, and Jason called out, “We’re here, guys. Coming into the house. Is the coast clear?”
I chuckled as I pulled my mouth away from Blade’s and called out. “Yeah, come on in.”
Jason used to walk right into my house unannounced all the time, but now he was more cautious since two days after Blade moved in, he’d walked in to find the two of us butt-naked on the couch, in the middle of wild sex.
Now, he claimed to be scarred for life and insisted on announcing his arrival. He still didn’t bother to just knock and wait for us to answer the door, though. I guessed it was just a habit from having grown up here.
He and Lexie came in, Lexie holding a pie. I had requested that they take care of dessert because I was already exceeding my own limits by making the meal. Baking was just out of the question.
“Coconut cream pie,” Lexie said, popping it into the refrigerator for later.
“Yum,” Blade said, and I put a hand on his arm.
“Don’t even think about going near that fridge.”
“What do you think I am, some kind of animal?”
“Aren’t you?”
“Only in the bedroom,” he smirked.
“Hey, not on family dinner day,” Jason said, his nose scrunched up and a look of disgust on his face. “You’ve done enough damage to my fragile psyche.”
I threw the dish towel at him across the table, and he dodged it like it was a bullet.
“Come on, Jason, help me with the drinks,” Blade said.
I watched for a moment as the two most important men in my life worked together to fill up the wine glasses and get Lexie some water. It wasn’t really a two-person job, but I appreciated the effort. The two of them had become fast friends after that night at the Pit, which just showed that belonging to rival motorcycle clubs didn’t really affect much in the grand scheme of things.
Jason’s decision to leave Las Balas was a good one, but it had been poorly received by our father. I hadn’t talked to my dad since the night that I drove him home drunk, and I had no plans to reach out to him anymore. Since Jason had filled me in on the gritty details of Las Balas activities, I couldn’t look at him the same anymore. In fact, knowing that my father had played a part in human trafficking even though he had a daughter of his own made my stomach turn.
I was finally done with the man, after so many years of hoping to connect on some level, somehow. I pushed thoughts of my dad aside and focused on Lexie, who was leaning against the counter, also watching our men.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I asked.
“I was just thinking that things are so much better since Jason left Las Balas. I feel like I have him back again, you know? It’s not just that he has more time for me, either. When he was a prospect, he seemed troubled, even when we did spend time together. It was like he was never really away from them.”
“Yeah, I’m just glad that they never made him a full patch.”
He’d never been directly involved in anything illegal because he wasn’t a member of the club, so when he withdrew from Las Balas, they let him go. It might have been more difficult if he was more involved with their activities.
I carried the meat platter to the table while Lexie got the vegetables. When we all sat around the table, I was overcome with emotion. It was like my mom was still here. I looked toward Blade, but he was blurry as tears filled my eyes. I smiled at him.
“You know, Mom would have really liked to meet you,” I said. “She was such a great mom, always taking care of me and Jason. And she was so funny.”
“Yeah,” Jason agreed. “She had some old-school wit that could even slay Kat.”
I laughed. “That’s true. No one could compare.”
We spent the rest of the meal sharing stories about her. I was able to chase away the tears with laughter as Jason talked about the trouble he got into as a teenager, and how our mom always said he made her go grey about ten years early. It felt good to remember her like this, with the people that I loved most around me while we enjoyed food created from her recipes.
This was happiness, and I couldn’t believe that I was lucky enough to find it again. Reaching over, I took hold of Blade’s hand, interlacing our fingers. As long as I had him to hold onto, I knew that I’d always feel content. He was my biker, and I was his Kitten ‘till the end.
Book 5: Diego
Outlaw Souls MC
DIEGO Book Blurb:
A nomad rider who vowed to escape his past. Until it came back to haunt him.
La Playa carried too many painful secrets of his past. He wanted a clean slate. What was a bad boy rider like Diego be doing with Misty, a hot Latina doctor to be?
All he knows is they were like two moths to one another’s flame. But an Outlaw gang member can’t be caught in a secret love affair, can he?
Diego is a free spirited rider searching for his place in the world.
But... A forbidden love threatens to tear their families apart...
Will their love withstand a gang war or they rise together forged from the fire?
Diego
Riding on the wings of freedom. Or as close as a man can come to it. I weaved slowly through the Pacific Highway traffic, the wind breezing past my face and the soft throttle of my Harley-Davidson leading me to my next destination. My chopper took me where I needed to be. Right now the road was leading to an unknown destination somewhere along the Californian coast. Just how I liked it. Things had changed drastically since Ryder took over from Padre as president of the Outlaw Souls. The chapter roster was switching up and people were being shuffled around the chessboard. I wanted out. My restless bones wanted someplace fresh and new. Someplace where people didn’t know my name. With the changeover, my nomad patch stripes came into full effect and I got my chance.
“It’s what Padre would have wanted. The floor is yours.” Yoda, Padre’s brother and chapter chaplain, sealed it at the Blue Dog Saloon meeting before I left. Music to my ears because the town of La Playa was…well, played out.
“You’ve officially been given your nomad stripes. Padre always wanted to open a new chapter and expand the operation,” Yoda explained.
“Then I’m the man to do it.”
“Job’s all yours, Diego. I approve of it.” Yoda nodded while shaking my hand.
My essentials were neatly packed in my leased apartment. Ready to go. I would sort out the rest from wherever I landed. My heart had been calling me to leave for years. But I’d met someone that slowed my progress down. A beautiful woman. After things went sour with Crystal, I felt a sense of relief. I still wanted to remain loyal to the chapter, but the desperate ache to spread my wings made me jump at the chance to leave.
My chopper continued gliding smoothly through the California traffic as my stomach rumbled, telling me it was about time to stop and eat. No sad goodbyes and no heavy hearts eithe
r. I wasn’t the man for that. When I moved on I liked to cut it clean. I planned on staying within the borders of California. I would know when to put the kickstand down. My plan was to check in somewhere and land where I felt best. That was as far as I got with it.
Thinking back to when I first met, things with Crystal had probably deteriorated over time. I used to frequent Marty’s every Friday night. One Friday, I rode in solo and parked myself in a good spot. A mixed crowd of both men and women were out for the night, crimson lighting flooding the stage. I’d found myself a nice little spot close by. I was ready to kick back with some entertainment, maybe drop a little change. A tanned blonde with legs for days, ample curves and a pouty mouth graced the stage, making me sit up. Her moves on the stripper pole were more sensual than the other girls, not so grimy. The difference with her was her body looked natural and soft—no enhancements like I saw with the other strippers.
“Who the hell is that?” I’d tapped the shoulder of the bartender Alice, who I was on a first-name basis with. She put my beer in front of me.
“Ah, you like the look of her? That’s Crystal, she just started here last week.” I inched forward to get a better look. Her eyes met mine and I knew it was on. That was all it took with me. Eye contact. Took a few more visits before anything ramped up between us.
One midnight hour two years ago, that changed as Crystal slid towards me. “You come here all the time. I think it’s about time you take me on a date.” A long tongue suggestion and a kitten crawl across the stage would get you a date real quick with me.
“Sure. We can work something out.” Heavy breasts jiggled as she swayed like fluid water to her feet.
“Sounds good, big boy. Meet you after my set. Drop them fifties right in here.” She pointed to the elastic of her g-string. Of course I did. Any man in their right mind would. Just like that, we got started in a relationship that lasted two years. I grew to love her. But it wasn’t enough. We got into it one night at my place.
“I don’t want to strip anymore. I have enough saved to take a break for a while. Can’t we think about taking the next step? I want a family with you.” That cutesy voice I liked had become whiny to me, making my skin crawl as soon as she said it.
“It's not what I want. I’m not ready to settle down right now. I respect that’s what you want. But honey, it’s not for me.” The tears flowed, and I comforted her as best I could. I knew the man I was inside.
“I didn’t mean it. I mean, I can live without them. I just thought we had something.” Crystal stroked my face and I left her with a kiss.
“We did, but it’s run its course. If you want kids, I don’t want to rob you of that decision.” I rubbed her hands. I wanted to have some level of compassion. “You’re going to find someone just your vibe. I’m not your guy.” Sometimes my honesty got me into trouble. Led to heartbreak. Might be part of the reason my name Diego the “Dog” Christopher fit me. Women never called me that to my face, thankfully. My devilish charm usually won them over. I remained friends with most of the women I banged. Even had a few of them on replay. Just depended on the season and the timing. But I treated all of them with the respect they deserved, which was why they kept coming back. Others in the club might have argued I got my nickname because of my loyalty.
So that was how it was left. No ties. Just the wind puffing up the back of my jacket and a hamburger joint coming up. I’d been riding for three hours and that was about my limit in any given stretch. Time to let my long limbs have a rest. Standing six feet two could have its advantages, but on a bike, it could tighten up the legs a little. I kinda wished I’d taken the coastal route. To have some of the ocean spray hit me in the face along the way. But for some reason, I’d chosen to stick to the Pacific Highway. The sign said “Bakersfield” as I pulled up to an old-school diner. I parked and stretched, taking in the clear blue California sky. A few large trucks were parked on the gravel driveway as I pushed through the screen door. The familiar sizzle of hamburgers on the grill and the distinct smell of onions made my mouth water. Wouldn’t mind a beer as well. However, I was riding so I’d wait. A Mom and Pop hamburger joint, right up my alley. Anytime I rode out and found a good place to stop off for food, I stored it in the memory bank for the next ride. A few truckers were in the booths, making their stops and reading the paper. The sound of the radio flowed through the diner.
“Hey, good looking. On a stop? What can I get ya’?”
I gave the lady behind the counter a big grin. I liked her spunk. A little dumpy probably, in her early fifties with brown hair stuck to her forehead from the Cali heat. She was wearing an old apron. It was just her out front with a rectangular peephole where the meals were being placed behind the counter. An older man with a net was whipping up the meals in the back. I looked up at the chalk menu board.
“Yep. Just passing through. I’m looking at that mega burger. I’ll take it. Don’t leave anything out,” I replied.
“Okay.” She laughed and her stomach heaved along with her. “That’s a mighty fine bike you got out there.” She pointed to it.
“Sure is. My pride and joy.”
“I can see why. We get some bikers that roll through here from time to time. Check out those mags in the rack if you want.” She pointed to a pile of magazines in the middle of the diner. “Take a seat and I’ll bring your burger out. Help yourself to water on the side there.”
“Will do.” My meal came out ten minutes later. I devoured the juicy hamburger with everything included and washed it down with juice. I sat out front of the takeaway, flicking through a local bike magazine. I stopped a few pages in. A bunch of old dudes in riding gear, getting together for rides. But where? Merced. I looked again. So they like their bikes up there. The article mentioned they tried to get a club going with no success. Disbanded. As good a place as any to start. Might take some legwork to get it going, but my instincts told me yes... Merced, California, here I come. The open road had become a sanctuary for me long ago. A place to unwind, to contemplate, to be free. Heading to Merced was no exception. I could lay down roots and set up shop for a while. Yep. Might be nice, see how I like it.
I’d been married once to Catarina. Fresh out of high school and struggling to make ends meet. “You’re too young to get married, Diego. Why don’t you wait?” my sweet mother warned me, but we were blinded. I was nineteen at the time and I wanted what I wanted.
“Stay out of it. I love Catarina and she loves me. We’re getting married.” Five good years or so, I’d thought. Put my heart and soul into it as a man. We thought we would never want to be apart from one another. Fairy tales don’t last forever; sometimes they end badly. A vivid flashback came to mind as I sat in Bakersfield.
“What the hell is going on? Get the fuck out of my house!” Some weedy dude was bumping and grinding with my wife. “Is this why you’ve been working late?” I screamed. I nearly lost my mind when I caught her.
“You were never home and I was lonely.” Catarina’s sad eyes filled with tears, staring back at me. The irony was that I was working hard as a mechanic at my local garage trying to make ends meet. Catarina worked as a secretary in a doctor’s office. The divorce sucked the life right out of me. Then add the drain on my little bank account and you could say I received the ultimate uppercut. After that, I vowed never to be committed again.
“I heard you're looking for members? I’m in, if you’ll have me.” That was the moment I joined the Outlaw Souls. Six years ago to the day and I never looked back. A brotherhood that would never abandon me, so I couldn’t abandon them. I would support my fellow riders to the death.
Belly full and with a new resolve, I briefly looked over Merced on my phone. It was close to college campuses and the nearby Yosemite park. Good places to take day rides to.
I rode into Merced, California on a candy-coated sunset two and a half hours later to start my new life and a new chapter.
Misty
The size of a clenched fist. The one muscle that do
es all the work. The illustrious aorta and master of the pulmonary valve function. The door to the lower heart chamber, allowing the pulmonary artery to do its work, pumping blood through the body.
My vision was blurring because of all the back and forth over the textbook pages. I was tired from trying to absorb information and retain it for my upcoming test. I was getting back to basics first and revisiting my knowledge of myocardial infarctions. In layman's terms, the heart attack. I was knee-deep in the study zone with anatomy books spread open to various pages at my study desk in my room. The sun streamed through my curtains, making it a little more bearable. My mug of strong coffee helped that along as well.
Funny that scientists say the heart holds more intelligence than the brain. It’s the epicenter of the body. If my heart had such intelligence, why was I always getting stabbed in it? It made me think of Carlos. I raised my head up from my books, giving myself an eye break, and sipped on my coffee. The guy was a heartbreaker and dream killer – that was what I called him. The suave Mexican with jet-black hair, chiseled face, and well-toned physique. He was older than me by three years. I didn’t know any better when he wormed his way into my life.
“Hey, pretty lady. You’re waiting on your brother, right?” That silky voice entered my ears while I waited on Palo outside the clubhouse to give me a ride to my friend's house. When I looked at him, I thought he was mesmerizing. I thought he was a god. My first mistake.