by KB Winters
“How long does it take to put on a fucking clown suit?” Jasper growled. He shook his head as he paced inside the parlor, a drink in his hand.
Terry laughed. “It’s his wedding day, Jas. Chill.”
“It’s a fucking suit. How long does it take? And where the fuck is Cal? If he doesn’t show up soon, Sadie is gonna have a shit fit.”
The man was wound so tight you’d think he was the one getting married.
“I’ll check on Cal because Maisie will be pissed if you pop a blood vessel before the wedding photos.” Terry said.
Emmett stood and walked out as quiet as a ninja. “I’ll see if I can hurry Virgil along.”
As soon as Terry and Emmett were gone from the room, I took advantage of Jasper’s distraction and the privacy.
“Found something interesting.”
Jasper turned to me, a surprised expression on his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m not talking about you and the hot redhead, Jasper. It’s about a brunette that the whole world’s been looking for.” Maybe it was an exaggeration so say the whole world, but as far as we were both concerned that was true. “Savannah Rhymer.”
“No fucking way.”
“Yep. Found her outside a convenience store looking like warmed over garbage.” I left out the part about Tits because it seemed as if the woman had done Savannah a solid and there was no point getting her in trouble with Jasper. “Pretty sure she’s been whored out by someone in the area.”
“She say who?”
I laughed. “She hasn’t said much of anything yet. But she’s pretty fucked up. Bruised and dirty, maybe a couple broken ribs, and a tongue as sharp as a whip. She’s been chasing that dragon.”
I couldn’t imagine going from the luxurious life she had with Ronan to being pimped out against her will, but that was one of the many risks of being a woman in this business.
A slow smile crossed Jasper’s face for the first time all day. “Talk about good luck.” He shook his head, finished his drink and poured two more, one for each of us. “Where is she now?”
“Someplace safe.” I trusted the Ashby family, probably more than I should, but their beef with The Crusaders went deep. I wasn’t sure I could just hand Savannah over to them in good conscience. Especially since Tits was the person who dropped her off that morning.
“Good. Whatever you need, I’m sure we can work something out in exchange for you keeping an eye on her.” I nodded because I hadn’t decided what to do yet, but it likely wouldn’t involve handing her over to anyone.
“Let’s keep this to ourselves until after this fucking wedding.”
“Fine by me.”
Terry returned with a smile on his face, Emmett and Virgil by his side. “The kid isn’t at home and Bonnie claims she doesn’t know where he is, but I found the groom.”
“I found the groom,” Emmett said and elbowed his brother in the side.
“Good enough,” Jasper growled, his dark scowl suddenly a little lighter. “Let’s get the fuck outta here.”
Virgil laughed and clapped his brother on the back. “Hey bro, this is my wedding you’re talking about. Get fucking excited.”
Inside the limo, Jasper flashed a wide, slightly deranged looking grin. “I’m bursting with excitement, can’t you tell?”
Terry barked out a laugh. “Let’s get this man a fucking drink. And I expect you to be much more excited about my wedding.”
“Keep it small and without these goddamn monkey suits, and I’ll dance a fucking jig.” Jasper growled and his lips twitched with amusement.
“Kat will agree to those terms just to get you to do a jig, so you have a deal brother.” Jasper rolled his eyes and let out a groan that had Virgil and Terry roaring with laughter.
Their banter made for a short ride to the church, where we got separated from Virgil who took his spot beside the priest while they matched the rest of us up with the bridesmaids.
“Hey, pretty boy. You clean up well.” Madison took her spot beside me and looked up at me with a teasing grin on her face.
“Thanks, I think.” Madison was a funny chick with a sharp tongue, but she was fun to be around that made her the perfect companion for endless wedding festivities.
“You look good too, almost like a real adult.”
She tossed her head back and laughed. “Right? I’m playing dress up today, but I kind of like it.” She leaned in and wrapped her arm around mine. “Tell anyone I said that and I’ll make you a soprano,” she whispered.
“Noted.”
“Good,” she shot back with a satisfied grin.
“Just remember, Madison, we’re required to dance together at least twice and things could go the easy way or the hard way.”
She gasped and then grinned. “You play dirty, pretty boy.”
“Damn right, I do.”
“All right, then let’s just make fun of everyone else and have a good time, yeah?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Shhhh!” The wedding planner hushed us with an angry glare as she pushed us forward. “Okay, go, and no more jokes until the ceremony is over. Got it?”
“Aye, aye,” Madison said with a mock salute.
“Come on, smart ass. Time to act like grownups.”
“I guess I can do that much, for the next forty minutes, anyway.” Surprisingly, Madison kept her word. Aside from a few snickers at a few unfortunate word choices.
Chapter Twelve
Savannah
Withdrawal was the worst. The absolute fucking worst. And it was made worse by the fact that Charlie locked me in a room with nothing or no one except my thoughts to entertain me.
Fucking Charlie.
He could say this was for my own safety. But I knew I was locked in a room based on my last name, and the name of my father.
A bitter laugh escaped at that thought. I wasn’t worth anything to anyone anymore, least of all Ronan Rhymer. He and Brendan were probably busy working on plans to obliterate the Ashby family and take over all the illicit business in Glitz before they moved on to Mayhem. I was nothing but a footnote in the Rhymer family history at this point, which made me pretty fucking worthless.
A fact Charlie would find out soon enough.
In the meantime, I needed to get out of this room. Between the cold sweats and the constant nausea gnawing at my gut, I was climbing the walls. And my claustrophobia—which was a precursor to losing my fucking mind—was off the charts. I was thisclose to my freedom and there was no way in hell I’d go crazy now. I just wanted the withdrawals to stop, so I grabbed a cigarette and lit it, sucking in the toxins until I heard some people outside the door.
“Who do you think is in there?” The scratchy voice came from a woman, one who smoked more than she should judging by the hacking cough that came after the question.
“Don’t know. Must be someone important or special if he put her in his room.”
His room? I took a slower, more careful look around the room, and realized this must be Charlie’s space. His safe space when he was doing motorcycle club business and didn’t want to be disturbed. There was a photo on the nightstand of Charlie with a man I’d bet was his brother. In another photo, he had his arms around an older woman who wore the proud smile of a mother.
Above the bed another photo showed Charlie with his almost-twin and a man who had to be the father. All three wore Reckless Bastards insignia. It’s a family business.
“You think it’s a woman?” The voices on the other side of the door grew louder, a clear sign they were right outside and wanted me to hear them.
“It better not be,” another woman growled like a feral animal. “We don’t need any more Bitches around here, not with all these guys taking outside bitches as their old ladies.”
“It’s probably some stupid whore and Charlie’s just trying to get info from her. It’s what Cross used to do before he and Moon hooked up.”
I rolled my eyes at the shit-talking going on
out there. The women were upset about me being here. Well, that made two of us. I didn’t want to be here anymore than they wanted me here, but the door was locked. And I was stuck.
Or am I?
When we were teenagers, Brendan had taught me a thing or two about picking locks, and this door wasn’t as complicated as the ones on our family estate. This was a simple lever handle. Though I didn’t think to have Tits buy me a lock-pick, she had bought me a switchblade and an off-brand Swiss Army kit.
I kneeled on the hardwood floor to get a good look at the lock, armed with the knife and a hairpin. It wasn’t a secure lock, then again Charlie probably didn’t need airtight security in his own clubhouse, which made it easy to pick. As soon as the women’s voices faded, I jiggled the mechanisms until they gave way, and a loud click sounded before the door opened.
“Perfect,” I whispered to myself. I stepped out into a dimly lit hallway. To the right I saw two doors. I checked one and found it was just a toilet with a small sink, and the other door led to the outside patio where Charlie had snuck me inside. To the left, I could hear the women’s voices and the sound of cue balls cracking together across a pool table.
I didn’t back down from a confrontation, ever. And I certainly wouldn’t start now. Besides, they were here and not at the wedding, which meant they weren’t old ladies, family, or official club members. They were something else entirely, and there was a good chance I could score a hit of something, anything, off them.
I walked straight ahead until I found myself in the pool room and stood at the entrance until one of them looked up and I got their attention.
“And who the fuck are you?”
The woman spat the question at me, making a big show of how tough she was, which gave me a chance to size her up. She was older than the others, by at least a decade, either that or hard living had taken its toll. She wore skin-tight jeans and a half-top that showed off an impressively large set of tits, bought by the MC, no doubt.
I stood my ground and said, “The name’s Savvy, who the fuck are you?”
A few of the women chuckled at my response, which only pissed her off more. “I’m Chickie, and I’m in charge of the Reckless Bitches.”
“Good for you. I’m looking to score. Can any of you Bitches help?”
It probably wasn’t smart to taunt them when I was so outnumbered but I couldn’t seem to help myself.
“Are you with Charlie?”
I shrugged. “He brought me here.”
“Why?”
“To keep me safe. That’s what he said, but you know how men are.” I rolled my eyes and took in all six women, dressed to impress even though there wasn’t a man in sight. “So, are any of you holding?”
The older woman got in my face. “Are you fucking Charlie or not?”
“What business is it of yours?”
Charlie was a handsome man, and he seemed nice, at least on the surface, so it wasn’t surprising these women had an eye on becoming his old lady. I wasn’t interested in him, only getting a fix before the sweating and nausea worsened.
“Answer the fucking question, bitch!” Another woman, with black hair, pale skin and a lace bustier shoved me.
“Don’t fucking touch me.” My voice came out on a low growl and all the hairs on my arms stood on edge as my fight-or-flight senses kicked in.
“Or what,” she said, bumping her inflated chest against mine. “What are you gonna do about it, fuckin’ whore?”
I put my hands up and pushed that bitch as hard as I could until she fell to the cement floor and hit her head. “Or I’ll make you regret it, bitch.”
The older woman got in my face again. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
The thing about withdrawals was that I never knew what to expect. Sometimes it was puking and yawning, tears and muscle pain, but the constant was agitation. I was cranky, sore, and not in the mood for this bullshit. “Just answer the fucking question. Are you holding?”
“Maybe. Are you fucking Charlie?”
“I haven’t decided yet. What’s it to you?”
The older woman lunged and a petite redhead slid between us.
“Charlie is ours. He’s the new President and if anyone is gonna be his old lady, it’s gonna be one of us.”
“Who’s stopping you?” If Charlie was interested in any of them, they’d be with him at his cousin’s wedding. But that wasn’t any of my business or my concern.
“Just stay the fuck away from him or else.”
I folded my arms and lifted my chin defiantly. “Make your move if you think you have a chance, but you’re a little old for him, aren’t you?”
“Bitch!” She reared back her fist. I ducked, and her misplaced punch landed on one of her friends.
“You better go,” the redhead whispered and gave me a shove.
I nodded and hurried back to my room, or rather Charlie’s room, and locked the door before I stripped down and crawled into bed. His intention might have been to keep me safe, but I was no safer here among those crazy bitches than I’d been last night, or the night before.
What I needed was a plan to get away from Charlie and the Reckless Bastards—and their Bitches. And then I could formulate a plan to get out of the Tri-City area altogether.
My life depended on it.
Chapter Thirteen
Charlie
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Go on son, kiss your bride.” The preacher’s encouraging smile was all Virgil needed to grab Maisie by the face and lay a kiss on her that was entirely too hot for the inside of a church.
Loud claps and whistles went up all around the church, which was expected in a room full of half-tipsy Irishmen and bikers. There were a few shouts of, “Get a room!” or “Save it for the honeymoon!” and finally, Maisie pulled back, a bright pink blush staining her cheeks, though she couldn’t take her eyes off her groom.
“Damn, babe. Save some of that for later.” She cupped his face, still smiling, and dove in for another kiss, despite her words.
“Okay, let’s get out of here so we can celebrate being married. Properly.”
Heat flared in the big Irishman’s eyes, and he clasped their hands together, practically dragging her up the aisle, leaving the rest of the wedding party to follow.
“That was sweet,” Madison said as she grabbed my arm and rolled her eyes. “But also kind of embarrassing. I hope I’m never that stupid in love.”
I laughed as we stepped through the church doors and out into the blinding Nevada sun. “You and me both, kid.”
“Kid? You’re like five minutes older than me, if that. Kid.” She glared at me but her lips twitched with another smile. “Now put on your best smile pretty boy, we have a big ass photo shoot ahead of us.”
“Big?” My eyes went round as we descended the church steps. Thankfully, no confetti or birdseed got tossed because Maisie refused to get it in her complicated hairstyle. “How big are we talking?”
“Big,” Madison said, her gaze deadly serious. “There’s a whole schedule for it and everything, but the guys aren’t supposed to know about it because you’re all a bunch of big babies and would complain about it endlessly.”
I laughed at her words. “That sounds like a quote.”
“Direct from Kat,” she confirmed gleefully.
After a short limo drive to a nearby park, Madison’s grave tone took on a whole new meaning. The park was filled with vibrant green grass. Security guards lined all four sides, almost hidden by a rainbow of flowers. It looked like the perfect place for a photographer to hold us hostage. There was no way out. “I never even knew this place existed.”
Madison laughed. “Not surprising,” she said through a smile as we all stood together for the first of what felt like nine million photos. “I don’t imagine you have much need for this in your life.”
She was right. Decorative benches and stylized outbuildings didn’t hold much priority in my life. “Too bad we can’t say the same for my cousin and
the photographer.” Thankfully, the wedding party was only needed for the first twenty minutes of photos and we spent the next thirty minutes drinking and razzing the happy couple.
“You call that a smile, Virgil? You look like you’re about to drop a deuce!” Terry barked out a laugh when Virgil flipped him off, earning a glare from Maisie and more laughter from the rest of us.
“Go easy on him, babe.” Kat put one hand to Terry’s chest and used the other to slide the leather flask from his hand. “Virgil isn’t used to smiling so much.”
“I can hear you, Kitty Kat.”
Kat turned with a look of absolute innocence on her face and grinned. “Was I whispering?” She threw her head back and laughed. “Just kidding. You look really happy, Virg, and we’re all happy for you. But if you could smile a little brighter, we could all get to the reception before we melt.”
Ten minutes later, and we were all pressed together for a few candid photos. “Hang on. I have one more thing and then we can get the hell out of here,” Virgil growled and motioned for Jasper and Terry to join him. They returned quickly, each man carrying two wooden crates with a stamp on the side that read, VELVET FIRE.
“What’s this?” Maisie motioned to the crates; her blue eyes narrowed in confusion.
“This, my smokin’ hot wife, is one of your wedding presents. I had this whiskey made just for you and imported from Ireland. It’s called Velvet Fire.”
Her eyes widened in surprise before they filled with tears. “Velvet Fire? That’s what you call me.” He nodded and Maisie jumped in his arms, kissing him like they were the only two people in the park.
“Seriously melting here, guys.” Kat, the brave one, interrupted with a thought we were all having. Desert heat and formal wear did not mix.
“Right. Of course.” Maisie pulled back, breathless and smiling. “What now?”
“Now we take a few photos of all of us, with my wife sitting on the crates while we all sample her very own whiskey.”
A bright red smile, which could be seen from across the park, bloomed on her face. She turned to the photographer and shrugged. “You heard the man.”