Tempting The Biker (Royal Bastards MC: Charleston, WV Book 3)

by Glenna Maynard

  “My mom?”

  “Ro, please stop the car.”

  “Tell me his name. Right now.”

  “James.” Her gaze meets mine through the rearview mirror. Time freezes in place.

  “James who?” she whispers.

  I suck in a deep breath. “I think you know.”

  “Ro, look out,” Colter screams, going for the steering wheel. It all happens so fast and yet so slow. Metal clinks. Glass shatters. The seat belt I’m wearing jerks me back in the seat. The car skids across the road. I knock my head against the back-passenger window as the vehicle rolls three or four times down an embankment, I’ve lost count.

  I’m shaken, but I think I’ll be okay. My head throbs, and I can’t think clearly. “Ro, Colter. You guys good?” No one answers me, and my blood runs cold. Chills fan up and down my arms. I focus on the front seat of the car. Colter is slumped forward with blood gushing from his forehead. A chunk of glass protrudes from his eye. Bile lurches in my stomach and claws its way up my throat, burning for release at the gruesome sight. “Rochelle?” I cry. The whole driver’s side of the car is smashed in. Her body is twisted at an odd angle partially under the steering wheel and partially hanging out of what’s left of her door. Neither of them was wearing their seat belt. A woozy sensation washes over me, and I touch my forehead. I glance at my fingers seeing my own blood. My hand goes to my stomach. My baby. Please let my baby be okay.

  I black out and when I come to, I have no idea how much time has passed.

  Oh God. It’s growing dark, and all I can hear is the water churning in the nearby river. “Rochelle, please answer me. I’m sorry. I take it all back. I take it all back.” I blink trying to get my tears to stop but it’s not working. “Colter. Tell me you guys are okay. Don’t shut me out.” I pull on my seat belt, but it won’t budge. “Someone help. Help,” I scream till my throat goes raw.

  “Can anyone hear me?” A man calls out, trying to open Colter’s door.

  I go to speak but my voice dies in my throat.

  He gives up on the other door and yanks mine open. “I’m ok,” I manage to croak out.

  “Don’t move. I’ve called 911.”

  “I need to help my friends.”

  He glances to the front of the car and drops his head, scrubbing a palm over his mouth. Reaching around the seat he checks Colter’s pulse first.

  “Is he breathing?”

  “I’m no doctor. Can’t be sure.”

  “Rochelle?”

  “I can’t reach her from here.”

  “I need out of this car.”

  The man pulls a knife out of his pocket and cuts the strap of my seat belt.

  I lean forward to touch Rochelle, but the man stops me.

  “I wouldn’t,” he warns.

  “She’s going to be okay. Right?”

  He ducks back out of the car. “Over here.” He waves his arms.

  I climb out of the car on shaky legs.

  Sirens wail in the distance, growing closer with each passing second though they seem like hours. Please let them be okay. Please, God, save my friends. I drop to my knees and pray. I beg for forgiveness. I’ll give anything.

  I’ll take it all back.

  I’ll give him up.

  God if you’re listening please hear me.

  Chapter Twenty

  I can’t breathe. I can’t speak. She’s gone. Both of them are. It’s all my fault. I did this. I killed Rochelle and Colter. I heard them as I was being loaded into the back of the ambulance. One survivor. Minor injuries. The seat belt saved my life. I’m alive and they’re dead.

  “Alexa, honey.” My head snaps up at the sound of my mom’s voice. The curtain to my bed in the ER is drawn back. “Sweetheart.” She rushes toward me, and I wrap my arms around her.

  “She’s gone, Mommy. I killed her. I killed my best friend.”

  “Shhh,” she shushes me and kisses my forehead next to my bandage. I think it’s the only real affection my mother has shown me in years. “You did no such thing. You weren’t even driving. None of this can be pinned on you.”

  “Colter...Rochelle. They were mad at me.” I cry harder. Snot bubbles out my nostrils. “It’s all my fault. I killed them. Why didn’t I die too? I should be dead. Not them.”

  “Can’t you give her something to calm her down?” I hear her murmur to someone.

  I curl up in a ball on the hospital bed and pray for God to take me too. This has to be a bad dream. It can’t be real. My best friend can’t be gone. She just can’t be. Every time I hear footsteps I look to the crack where my curtain is pulled watching for her shoes. It’s always a nurse or someone here for another patient. My mom had to go fill out paperwork for the insurance or whatever. I keep praying she’s going to come back any second now and tell me there was a mistake. That Rochelle and Colter will be fine. That they are here too, and I can see them any minute now.

  Heavy footsteps sound in the corridor. I can sense him before I see his riding boots through the crack. James is here. How do I face him right now? How do I look this man I love more than my own life in the eyes and tell him that it’s my fault his daughter is gone? I hold my breath waiting for him to open the curtain and tell me he hates me. That he wishes it were me who died in Rochelle’s place. It’s my greatest fear—losing him for good, and it’s about to come to fruition.

  The curtain is yanked back but it isn’t James. “I was sent to check on you. You need anything?”

  I shake my head. “How...” I struggle to find the words.

  “Not good, but he did ask me to make sure you were okay.”

  “Okay.” I laugh bitterly. “My best friend is dead, Nickel. Nothing is okay. It should’ve been me.”

  The handsome man blows out a breath. Colorful tattoos snake up his arms.

  “What are you doing here?” I hear my mother question as she enters behind him.

  “Ruthie asked me to see how Alexa is.”

  “Can you take me to them?”

  “You’re not going anywhere, young lady. Not until I speak with the doctor.”

  Nickel shoots me a wink and steps out. I’m sure he was sent as my bodyguard or to make sure I don’t take off. Maybe both. Perhaps he’s here to kill me for what I’ve done.

  “Does dad know?”

  “Your father didn’t want me to come, but you’re my daughter. I tried to raise you right, but you keep going down these dark roads, and I’m not sure what more I can do.”

  “Love me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted from either of you, but you refuse to give it. Why? Why am I so bad? Why doesn’t anyone love me?”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You can’t even say it, can you?”

  “Say what?”

  “That you love me.” A tear slides down my cheek and drips onto my hospital gown.

  “You’re being silly.” She fusses with my blanket, ignoring my question. Blowing off my feelings as though they don’t matter. That I don’t matter. I’ve never mattered in her eyes, and I never will.

  “Mom?”

  “What?”

  “I’d like you to leave.”

  “Excuse me?” her brow crinkles revealing the lines etched on her forehead.

  The doctor enters the exam room before I can argue with her. “Hello, Miss Neville.” He flips a paper on my chart and smiles at me. “I see you’ve had stitches. Your bloodwork all came back good. You have a mild concussion, but nothing to be concerned about. Everything seems normal with your pregnancy.”

  Flames lick up the back of my neck. My mother’s hand goes to her clavicle. I have no doubt if she were wearing pearls, she’d be clutching them now. “Did you say pregnancy?”

  He looks to my mother who appears on the verge of passing out. “And who are you?”

  “Her mother.” Her head snaps in my direction. “You’re pregnant,” she hisses the word as though it’s toxic.

  “Seems so.”

  “Is it by that wre
tched Todd? I knew it. I knew this would happen.” She shakes her head, muttering under her breath about how wicked I am.

  “Do you have someone here to drive you home and to look after you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. I don’t see any reason to keep you any longer. You’re a very lucky girl.” He hands me my release papers and exits.

  “Your father will have a coronary. I don’t know why you continue to pull these stunts.”

  I ease off the bed. I’m sore and bruised. I’ve been here for hours. All I want is to crawl into my bed, pull the covers over my head, and hope that when I wake up this was all some horrible nightmare.

  After I change back into my clothes, Nickel is waiting for me, and I’m grateful. I thought my mom showing up might be a good thing for our relationship, but I was mistaken. She’s never going to change. The woman will never see me as anything other than an inconvenience and a failure.

  “What are you doing getting yourself twisted up with biker trash? He’s not the father, is he?”

  “No, Mother. He’s a friend of Ruthie and James. You know the people who’ve done nothing but take care of me since you and Dad put me out. You don’t even know them.”

  “I know enough. They’ll only drag you down with them. There’s no hope for you. You’re a lost little girl who can’t see she’s destroying her life. You’ll ruin everything in your path, including your bastard baby.”

  “Hey, lady,” Nickel snarls. “Watch your tongue or I’ll cut it out your mouth after your husband watches you suck my dick.” He grabs his crotch, and I don’t know who appears more mortified her or the nurse who just overheard the exchange.

  “Well, I’ve never. Don’t call me again, Alexa.”

  “I won’t,” I whisper to her back.

  “You okay?”

  “You want the honest answer or the universal fine?”

  “Right. I brought a cage so no worries about riding on my bike.” Out in the parking lot Nickel helps me into the cab of his truck. “You want to get food or anything?”

  I shake my head. “I can’t think about food right now. How are you so calm?”

  “I figure it like this. Death is a natural part of life, but my being upset right now won’t help or change anything. What I can do is what my Prez asked of me and that was to make sure you were good and have what you need. I compartmentalize shit.”

  “Can I see him?”

  “Got orders to take you to your apartment and stay as long as you need me to. I’m sure you can understand that Ruthie is losing her shit and your man ain’t in the headspace for anything or anyone right now. That includes you.”

  I nod. It’s probably for the best I don’t see him or Ruthie for that matter right now. Because once I do, he will hate me forever.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “This is nice, isn’t it? Just the two of us like old times.” Ruthie smiles over the brim of her wine glass before taking a hearty sip.

  “I don’t know what fucked up fantasy you’ve been living in, but this has never been us. If this were like old times, we’d be having takeout pizza and sitting on crates while Rochelle played with her blocks.”

  “Don’t be a sourpuss. We’ve come so far. Our little girl is growing up. You’re the Prez now. Everyone looking up to you. I’m the envy of all the other Old Ladies. They’re all jealous of us you know. We finally have it all. Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.”

  “Maybe if I wasn’t spending all my time cleaning up all the shit deals your father made. And the chaos he left in his wake. The shit he did to not only Alexa but other members of the club. Was fucking their wives in front of everyone to humiliate them. Had a brother bring his Old Lady to me and promised if she disappointed me, I could have his sister and daughter too.”

  “He what?”

  “You heard me. So no its not all fun.”

  “Did you fuck her?”

  “What are you gonna do if I did?”

  She stabs her fork into her steak, cutting the meat quickly.

  “Cat got your tongue?”

  “I don’t want to fight. Have you given anymore thought to a son now?”

  “You think I want another kid? Think I want to bring a son into this fucked up club and hope he fills my boots one day?”

  “It’s what you’re supposed to do. You have a status to uphold.”

  “Don’t tell me what I’m supposed to do. Coming here with you tonight was a fucking joke. Just like our marriage.”

  “Now you’re only trying to hurt my feelings.”

  “Didn’t think you had any left.” I top off my beer and wish I could smoke a damn joint right about now. My thoughts are miles away with Alexa. She’s pregnant and has no business going to a damn party. What am I gonna do...ground her? Tell her she can’t have friends? The look on her face at the house earlier about damn near killed me. Would serve me right if she found someone else. Sometimes I wish she’d quit me. But I know if she did, I’d just drag her back into my world.

  My cell phone goes off. It’s the clubhouse. “Gotta take this,” I inform Ruthie when her cell starts buzzing too. I’m happy for the interruption. “Talk to me.”

  “Cops are here looking for you. They won’t say why,” Grudge tells me.

  “I’ll be there in ten.”

  Ruthie gives me a funny look.

  “What?” I snap.

  “That was Mrs. Medoza from next door. She says there’s a cop looking for both of us. What did you do?”

  “What the fuck makes you think it’s something I did?”

  “Let’s just go see what this is about. Do I need to get our lawyer on the phone?”

  “Not yet.” I pay our bill, and we ride out to the clubhouse. When we arrive there’s a police cruiser sitting outside the gate. I roll up next to them and cut off my bike.

  “You James Thatcher?”

  “What’s this about?”

  “Is there somewhere private we can talk?”

  “Here’s fine.” I throw my leg over my bike and Ruthie gets off after me.

  “I wish you’d reconsider taking this matter elsewhere. I’m sorry to have to tell you that your daughter was involved in a single vehicle motor vehicle accident.”

  Ruthie clutches my hand. “Is she okay?”

  “Ma’am.” His gaze darts to his shoes and the world seems to tilt off its axis. “I wish I could tell you differently, but Rochelle Thatcher was pronounced dead at the scene along with her passenger Colter Riggs. An Alexa Neville was transported to the hospital with minor injuries.”

  My legs nearly give out. I drop to the pavement. His lips keep moving, but all I hear is static. Rochelle, my brown eyed girl ready to set the world on fire since the day she was born. The first person to show me what it truly meant to love someone else and put them first. The baby I cradled in my arms, slept with her on my chest the first three months of her life because she’d cry whenever I put her down. I watched her take her first steps. I swore I’d always protect her. That she’d never want for nothing. My child is gone from this life and onto the next.

  Ruthie’s blood curdling scream forces me to snap my head up. The officer has his arms around her, offering the comfort I’m unable to give. “Not my daughter. Not Rochelle,” she sobs. “Please. No. You’ve made a mistake. James, tell him he’s made a mistake. It’s not her. Tell him.” She falls to her knees. The gate behind me opens up. Grudge picks Ruthie up. Nickel holds a hand out to me.

  I’m supposed to be strong, but nothing prepares you for the loss of a child.

  **

  One of the officers I spoke with called it a tragic accident. Said Rochelle was driving, and they believe toxicology reports will show she had alcohol in her system. None of it makes sense. Rochelle had her permit but knew not to drive unless her mom or me were with her. She nor Colter were wearing their seat belts, but Alexa was. I need answers and there is only one person who can give them to me.

  Ruthie is at her mother’s. Had to give her
a damn sedative to knock her ass out. I wish someone would put a bullet in my head and make the pain stop. It’s more than I can bear. I can’t drink or smoke it away. I don’t do pills and will never stick a needle in my arm but fuck me if I’m not tempted by the thought of making this ache go away if even for an hour. Never knew anything could hurt like this. Hurts so damn bad I want to drive straight into oncoming traffic.

  I have Slick drop me off at the apartment. When I walk in Nickel is asleep on the couch. I tap his shoulder and send him on his way. He doesn’t hesitate. I think he knows by taking one look at me now isn’t the time to offer his condolences. There will be time for that later. Right now is the time for Alexa to tell me what the fuck happened to my daughter and why she’s still breathing and Rochelle isn’t. My brain knows that the seat belt could have saved her life, but my heart can’t accept the truth. Not until I hear the details from the only person alive to tell the tale.

  I enter the bedroom. Alexa isn’t in our bed. She’s standing at the window staring out at the moon. The moonlight spilling through the window casts a glow on her. Her blonde hair hangs over her shoulder, wet and dripping onto the carpet. Standing in a tank top and bikini style panties I can see the perfect shape of her growing baby bump. The sight is beautiful yet haunting. I wonder if losing Rochelle is my punishment for knocking Alexa up.

  Her gaze meets mine. “You came.”

  “You okay?” Angry and heartbroken I’m still drawn to her.

  “No. You?”

  I shake my head, and she crosses the room to where I stand frozen in place. I kiss her forehead next to her stitches. “I’m glad you’re okay.” I am fucking grateful I didn’t lose her too.

  “I’m not. Rochelle...Colter...” her voice cracks.

  “Shh.” I pull her into my arms. “The baby’s okay?”

  “The doctor said I have a mild concussion, but the baby looks good. I got to hear her heartbeat.”