by KB Winters
Charlie chuckled and stood up, extending his hand to me. “This,” he motioned around the restaurant decorated in casual fine dining Asian décor, “is a Chinese buffet, Princess. That means you serve yourself but in exchange for that, you can eat as much as you want.”
Laughter sparkled in his eyes and I hated that my smile came automatically, as big and bright as his own.
“Princess? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m more like the Princess’ poor enslaved stepsister. But I’ve never eaten at a buffet before and right now I can eat plenty, so lead the way Biker Boy.”
“Biker Boy?” His lips twitched with humor and I laughed.
“It’s better than princess, not to mention much closer to the truth.” I motioned toward the back half of the restaurant where I could now see the rows of food under heat lamps. “Starving ex-princess here.”
He laughed, and I swear I was becoming addicted to the sound. Addicted to him. Who knew bikers laughed so often or had such great, rich laughs that burrowed under a girl’s skin and made her think of things she shouldn’t, like sex and fun and orgasms? Especially after the shit I’d gone through.
And yet, here I am.
“You can go back at any time,” he said with a laugh as he took the two plates I loaded up and set them on the table.
I shrugged it off, smiling to myself at the thought that I wasn’t even a little self-conscious about all the food I’d taken. “And I will, but now I can take my time. And I’m willing to share.”
It was strange, though, spending a Saturday night out, eating with a man. I rarely spent Saturday nights this way before being kidnapped, and for the past six months—at least—I never had these kinds of interactions with men. It was a lot to get used to, and why I couldn’t stop fidgeting and looking around.
“Relax.” Charlie’s voice was calm even though it was the fifteenth time he had to say that word to me. “Tell me about yourself.”
“Like what,” I asked suspiciously.
Charlie only shrugged. “Anything. What was your life like before the Black Jacks? Were you a princess?”
I stared at him for a long time, trying to figure out if he was digging for information or genuinely interested. Does it matter? my conscience shot back sarcastically. I shrugged to myself, because honestly, it didn’t. This was a normal conversation to have over a meal so I leaned into it.
“Before all of this, my life was okay. I didn’t want for anything so I guess that’s where the princess shit comes from, but I wasn’t thrilled with my life. I’m smart and educated, but my own father didn’t believe I could lead the family. He preferred Brendan. Always.”
Even thinking about it now, when that life was so long ago, I was pissed off. “You think he cared or changed his mind whenever I pointed out that his biggest nemesis was a woman? Nope. It didn’t matter, having a vagina made me less than my idiot brother. Ironic, considering how rich he became selling pussy.”
“So you were aware of all parts of your family business? Even the ugly bits?”
I nodded. “Yeah, who do you think kept the books? Bookkeeping is a proper job for a woman. That and wife, mother, and fuckhole.” I knew I sounded bitter, but I couldn’t help it. I was bitter dammit.
“Really? I assumed a man in Ronan’s position would be a bit more open-minded.”
I barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I thought that too. Once. But the fact that he didn’t come looking for me, that he didn’t threaten every motherfucker in this town to open their doors to prove they didn’t have me, tells me everything I need to know about how important I am to him. To the family.” Which was to say that I was just plain fucking unimportant.
“Families are complicated.” Charlie let out a low exhale and shook his head. “I’m my dad’s boss now. And my uncle’s, plus a bunch of old grumpy bastards who’ve been around since I was born. It’s complicated shit.”
“Complicated, sure. But you are the opposite of not important to your family and your MC. You’re the top dog.” I had to look away from the sympathy shining in his eyes because if it turned to pity, I’d lose my shit inside this Chinese buffet.
“No one would blame you if you wanted to go back.” His words were gentle. Kind. And annoying as fuck.
“I don’t,” I shot back angrily. “What kind of fucking idiot would want to go back after what happened?”
Charlie nodded and stole a crab dumpling from my plate. “But no one would blame you if you did, that’s all I’m saying Savannah.”
“Good to know, but I’m never going back. My dad and Brendan can have a good fucking life together. Without me. I won’t even go to their funerals. Just the reading of the will.”
“You mean that?”
I gave a sharp nod, ignoring the twinge in my belly at the thought of my father or brother, dead. It was inevitable in this life we all chose, but death was final. Permanent.
Charlie paused, and I could tell he had something on his mind. What bomb was he going to drop on me? That my free ride courtesy of the president of the Reckless Bastards was over? That I’d have to bust my own nut from now own? Just when I liked Charlie’s company? At least a little.
What else could put that dark cast to his gray eyes?
He drew a breath and looked down at his fried rice. “Brendan is dead,” he said.
The words came out quiet and bland, and I blinked to focus my eyes.
“I still feel the same way, Charlie. No need to test me.” It was kind of cute how he cared, how he tried to get me to change my mind.
He raised his head and looked deep into my eyes. “I’m not testing you, Savannah. He’s dead.”
A rising tide of emotion came over me. “You’re lying just to see if I mean it.”
Charlie tapped his thumb on the table and looked off into the distance.
“We killed him just before Virgil Ashby’s wedding. He stormed into the bachelor party with one of the Black Jacks and I put a bullet in him myself. Well, me and Jasper Ashby.” He stared at me, his gaze serious, and that was when I knew he spoke the truth.
So that was it. I felt a lot of things at his words. Surprised that Brendan hadn’t made it to an old man, a little shaken that my older brother was dead. Before he became a power hungry asshole, he’d taught me how to shoot a gun, how to aim for center mass, how to spit.
Then a flash of pain seared deep into my chest. My brother is dead. But finally there was relief. Not hope or grief, but a kind of lightening of the darkness that meant he was gone. I didn’t know where it had come from or why. But I let that feeling wash over me and smiled.
For a moment, I thought Charlie would put his hand on mine. But he said, “It’s okay to be sad, Savannah. He was your brother for longer than he was a prick.”
I smiled at Charlie’s attempt to make me feel better and shook my head. “If I had any money, I’d buy you a drink.” Not that I was glad that Brendan was dead, but I wasn’t exactly sorry either.
He shook his head. “I don’t believe you. Being tough is one thing, but he’s your brother.”
I scoffed. “And? What is that supposed to mean to me? The bachelor party was over a week ago, and not that I need to point it out to you, but Ronan still hasn’t come looking for me. Has he?”
“Not that I’m aware of, no.” He seemed almost disappointed as he said the words that came as no surprise to me.
“Because that’s what family means to him, probably to most men, having a son to carry on the business, no matter how idiotic said son is, or how ill-tempered, or how unsuited to business. As long as there’s a penis involved, then that’s family.”
Even recalling it now, the realization pissed me off to the point that I understood why Charlie kept saying it was okay if I wanted to go back. I don’t. “What?” I blurted out.
Charlie blinked slowly, those all-seeing gray eyes turning to a dark, gunmetal silver. “I haven’t said a damn thing.”
“You don’t have to. That look I hate so fucking much is written all over your f
ace. Pity. Just spit it out, will you?”
I didn’t want anyone to pity me, least of all Charlie. Right now, he was all I had and I couldn’t stand it if he pitied me.
Charlie sucked in a deep breath and nodded, as if he needed to ready himself for his next words. I sat taller, straighter, while he summoned a waiter and ordered two double shots of whiskey.
“Must be serious,” I mumbled, only half joking.
“How much do you know about what your brother was up to in your absence?”
Oh. “You mean when I was with those Ashby fucks or before that?”
“Either,” he shrugged. “Both.”
“Well, I know he snatched Virgil’s old lady and supposedly got killed when one of his flop houses blew up.” It served him right. “But he wasn’t dead.”
Charlie’s lips pulled into a reluctant grin. “Smart. He didn’t die, but the explosion burned him all to hell on one side of his face.”
I barked out a laugh. “So, I heard. I bet that made him a delight to be around. Did he ever retaliate against those Ashby fucks?”
“He did, or he tried to. The night you escaped from Lance Decker.”
Lance. As much as he’d been my captor, he’d been kind to me. Treated me like a human being, which I appreciated. “You realize I didn’t escape? We were in the SUV and got ambushed. Lance treated me better than my own father. I had no reason to escape.” I blew out a breath. There was so much Charlie didn’t know. And I wasn’t sure now was the time to tell him. “I was sorry to hear he didn’t make it.”
Charlie nodded at my words but seemed unmoved, which had me rethinking just how close he was to the Ashby family.
“Brendan had already hooked up with the Black Jacks, tried to take over the family business so you couldn’t.”
“Fucking asshole. I’m glad he’s dead.”
Charlie nodded his head. “Yeah. He was pretty angry about his face and wanted to retaliate. And for some reason, he started with you.”
“Why do you say that?” I could tell there was more to the story and Charlie struggled to get it out. I sipped my drink and waited as patiently as I could even though my stomach twisted in knots and my pulse doubled.
“Brendan paid Blade a million bucks to find you and…video you. With men.”
The words sank in, and I shook uncontrollably while a thousand different thoughts race through my mind. My heart crushing into a million pieces. My own brother did this.
“God, I remember now.” It had been a brutal night, one that I wouldn’t forget for as long as I lived. They’d tied me to the bed and shot me up with heroin. Then they squirted lube up my ass and pussy and fucked me until I passed out. I shook my head as images from that night flashed through my mind. I remembered the look on Blade’s face while he made the video.
“Brendan did that to me?”
A sympathetic look mixed with a tortured expression, almost as if what was to come was worse. Way worse.
“He did. They were selling the video to fucking pervs on the dark web. A million is a drop in the bucket when it comes to these sick videos. They planned to kill you afterward, making it easier for Brendan to take over Daddy’s throne.”
Kill me. He wanted them to kill me. “That video of me is on the dark web?”
“Was. The Bastards have some super techy nerds that might work with the government. We have taken it down. Along with everything else they found. Not pertaining to you.”
I had to ask, even though I didn’t want to know the answer. “Did you see it?”
Charlie took a deep breath and let it out. I already knew the answer. I hoped he didn’t think I was just some fucked up whore.
“You don’t have to answer that.”
“I’m sorry, Savannah. If I was in your position, I’d want to know.”
I nodded, staring at a spot on the wall just past Charlie’s shoulder. Tears sliding down my cheeks. I wiped my eyes. No more tears. Not here. Not now.
“And you wanted to make sure I wasn’t secretly longing for my family before you told me?”
He nodded again. “Something like that. It would be hard news to take if you decided you wanted to go back.”
“Well, I don’t, so thanks for telling me that it was my own fucking brother who inflicted the greatest pain of my life on me.” I finished off the whiskey, accepting Charlie’s offered refill with a grimace. “I guess it’s some kind of karmic payback, you know? I didn’t just look the other way with the family business. I knew what was happening, and I happily bought myself a good life with the proceeds. Just like Blade and Roadkill and Dealio, and their women.”
“It’s tough being a woman in this business.”
I shook my head. “Don’t sugarcoat it, Charlie, not for my benefit. I was never under any illusion about what was going on. I never tried to fight against them because it would be another strike against me, a woman, running the business. I said nothing, and I did nothing, and the universe paid me back tenfold for it. I totally fucking deserved it.”
Sympathetic gray eyes looked at me. I saw him trying to figure out what the fuck was going on inside my screwed up brain, and I looked away because I couldn’t stand it. The sympathy? I didn’t deserve that.
“Can we just get out of here?” I was already on my feet, grabbing my denim jacket from the back of the chair.
“Yeah, sure.” Charlie nodded, his overgrown black hair bouncing as he stood and left a few bills for a tip on the table.
I stepped outside and sucked in several deep breaths, letting the desert chill work its way into my chest and lungs. I let that chill run through my body until I was cold all over. My own fucking brother had sold me to be raped and fucked and whored out, all to inherit a business that was always going to be his. And Ronan, he hadn’t even bothered looking for me for one goddamn second. Not when I’d been scooped up by the Ashby family and not when I ended up property of the Black Jacks.
Had my stupid father seen the video? That would’ve been my move had I been in Brendan’s position. I’d send a copy to our father to make sure my reputation was too sullied to lead the family business.
That’s why he didn’t look for me.
“Shit.” That realization stung worse than any of the others, knowing my own father would rather me die a junkie whore than have me back as a ruined woman, no longer useful to his business.
It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t. I repeated those words to myself over and over until I started to believe them. Until I remembered Brendan was dead and the old man was vulnerable as hell.
As vulnerable as me. Maybe more, since I had nothing left to lose.
My eyes flew open as a small, satisfied smile crossed my face. I was no longer the Rhymer Princess, the ice cold bitch our business associates feared. I was just Savannah, now. No last name. No family. No allies or affiliations. Just me, on my own. It was kind of empowering to think I didn’t have anyone else to worry about, didn’t have to tie myself in knots over false loyalty or illusions of control.
I was a woman alone in the world, and I could do whatever the fuck I wanted. My mind raced with possibilities, starting with Charlie. The Reckless Bastards could benefit from what I knew, and I was sure they’d pay for it—well I was reasonably sure.
“Ready?” Charlie’s voice pulled me from my thoughts and I nodded absently, scanning the downtown street lined with cafes, bistros and boutiques that kept later business hours to keep up with Vegas shops.
“Yeah.” I said and turned to him. “You know, I was just think—oh shit, is that Sadie?” I pointed to the Italian bistro across the street with the burgundy awning and the kitschy Chianti bottle candles.
Charlie leaned in close, too close, and followed my finger across the street. “Fuck, it is,” he said, “and isn’t that the pedo priest in your father’s pocket?”
I squinted and looked closer, realizing it was Father Mueller but without his collar, dressed in a dark blazer and jeans like a civilian.
“Fuck, that is him.
He helped Brendan and the Crusaders find girls, among other things.” I turned back to him and sucked in a breath at his nearness. This close up, I could see threads of green in Charlie’s gaze.
“What do you think they’re doing?”
Charlie’s eyes darkened as he continued to stare across the street, at Sadie smiling at Father Mueller, her toasting with him like they were old friends, possibly even lovers. “No idea, but whatever it is, it can’t be good.”
Not good for the Reckless Bastards, that much was sure, which meant I might have an ally in Charlie after all. “It’s never good when that man is around.”
He gave a short, distracted nod and grabbed my hand. “Come on.”
We walked back to his bike in silence and this time when I hopped on back and slid my arms around his waist, I felt a little more hopeful. A little brighter, like maybe there was life after the shitstorm, after all.
Chapter Twenty-One
Charlie
“Who knew bikers did lazy Sundays?” Savannah wore an uncharacteristic smile that gave me a glimpse of the beauty she’d been before life had fucked her up. Her hair was thick and bouncy, shining brightly from all angles as the sun filtered in through the half-open blinds. Her blue eyes sparkled. Life had come back to her, on the outside anyway.
I smiled at her from my recliner, kicked back with a bag of chips on my lap. “Who doesn’t love a lazy Sunday?”
“Agreed,” she said and handed me another beer before she stretched her long legs out on the sofa, crossing them at the ankles in the comically large wool socks Ma had brought her.
“Sunday is a day of relaxation. If the Good Lord above could rest on Sunday, so can I.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Recovery is hard goddamn work.”
She eyed me cautiously. “Speaking from experience?”
“You could say that. I know how hard it is to get that monkey off your back. It ain’t easy and every damn day is a fight to stay sober.”
“Yeah, it fucking sucks. But I’ll never go there again.”