by Ivy Black
“Yes, I slept with Derek last night,” I admit.
Her smile slips and an expression of worry crosses her face. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, I told you about the Pharaohs and—”
“And they’re definitely not what you and a lot of other people around here think they are,” I tell her.
“How do you know, though? Because he told you?” she presses. “I’m sure Ted Bundy told people he was a great guy, too.”
I laugh. “That is a ridiculous comparison,” I say. “He’s not a serial killer. That much I can tell you for sure.”
She arches an eyebrow at me, a small smile on her lips. “Are you sure about that?”
“I’m very sure about that.”
“What about his club? What did he tell you about them?”
A small frown touches my lips as I consider whether to tell her all I learned. Or if so, how much. I know how she can be. Aside from being a bit judgy, Rube has always been pretty protective of me. I know that’s part of where the judgment and harsh truths come from… her desire to keep me safe.
But I don’t want to keep things from her. She’s my best friend and I’m a grown woman. As much as I appreciate her looking out for me, I probably don’t need it as much now as I might have back then. I like to think that I’ve grown, gotten more mature, and a little more worldly. I’m not as naïve as I was when we were younger. But her opinion does still matter to me. A lot. She’s the closest thing to a sister that I have, so I value what she thinks.
“He says that people misunderstand them. That they’re not anything like what people say they are,” I say.
“Of course, he’d say that.”
“I believe him, Rube,” I say. “I’m not naïve and I can usually get a pretty good sense of people.”
“I know you can. But I also know you let your heart get the better of you sometimes,” she replies. “You always have, babe.”
I fall silent. There’s no use in arguing the point anymore. She’s not wrong about me, but at the same time, she doesn’t give me credit for growth over the years. I know I should probably cut her a little slack, though. I haven’t been back in town all that long, let alone spent much time with her, so she probably hasn’t really been able to see it in me.
The bottom line is that I know I’m not the same girl who left Blue Rock all those years ago. Not by a long stretch. She seems to pick up on my vibe and gives me a tight smile, letting me know that she’ll stop pushing which I appreciate. Ruby has always known just how far she can go and when to back off. But no matter what, she’s always there to be my cheerleader or help me pick up the pieces if things end up going sideways. And she has never once said “I told you so”, and I totally love her for that.
“So, how was it?” she asks, pivoting the conversation.
That’s the other thing about her. She may try to dissuade me from hooking up with somebody, but she always wants the juicy details when I ignore her advice.
“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” I reply and flash her a grin.
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m talking to you and not a lady then, isn’t it?”
My laughter echoes around the empty classroom and I throw my pen at her. It bounces harmlessly away and hits the floor, rolling under one of the desks.
“You are an ass,” I tell her.
“Come on, Bell. I told you I have to live vicariously through others.”
I laugh. “Your husband is gorgeous. He was an underwear model, for crying out loud. A literal underwear model,” I tell her. “How can you possibly not be satisfied going home to him every night?”
“Oh, I’m very satisfied,” she says with a smile. “But life is a buffet and I just want to see what else is on the menu. Nothing wrong with a little peek now and then.”
“So long as you’re only eating at home, I suppose not,” I reply. “And to answer your question, yes. It was great. It was amazing, actually.”
“Amazing, huh? What made it so amazing?”
I nod and feel my body warming as I think about the feeling of his hands and mouth on me. About the feeling of having him so deep inside of me. The fire between my thighs burns hot and I feel myself growing wet again. I clear my throat and try to get control of my thoughts and push away my arousal. Sitting here getting hot in front of Ruby is not on my to-do list.
But I nod anyway and focus on what made it amazing. And while the physical aspect was certainly a big factor, it was far more than that. I look up at her and try to organize my thoughts.
“It was just like our bodies were totally in sync. We were just moving as one. Totally in rhythm with each other,” I try to explain. “It was the eye contact and the connection we seemed to have. I mean, I’ve never felt anything like it before.”
Ruby’s smile is wide and the sparkle in her eyes is mischievous. “Sounds like somebody’s already falling hard.”
“Please,” I say with a chuckle. “It’s a little early for all that. I’m just saying we seem to have a connection and it made things last night pretty incredible.”
“Just… be careful, Bell,” she says. “I know you’re smart and you’re not a gullible child. But I also know you’ve got a big heart. And I’d hate to see you get that heart trampled on by somebody who’s not who or what you think he is.”
***
I walk out of the store, my head still in the clouds. Not even Ruby’s doubts and naysaying can dull the shine I’m still feeling after my night with Derek. I’ve never taken drugs—I’ve never even smoked pot—but I’ve heard people describe what a high feels like, and I imagine it’s kind of what I feel like right now. And if that’s the case, I can see why people get high in the first place.
Not that I’m condoning drug use. I’d certainly never take drugs myself and will always encourage others, especially the students I teach, to stay well away from them. I’m just saying, this feeling is incredible. Lightheaded, almost dizzy, giddy, and the feeling like I’m walking on air… it’s heady stuff. Not to mention addictive. Maybe it’s not a very appropriate thing to say, but I could sure go for another fix right about now.
The thought makes me smile as I carry my groceries to my car with my head still in the clouds. I’m not imagining the connection we had last night or letting my heart run away with me as Ruby likes to say. It was in his eyes; he’d felt it every bit as much as I did. I could see it. And knowing that makes my heart swell in my chest to the point it feels like it might burst.
After putting my groceries into the trunk, I climb in and start my car. As I’m backing out, an old, battered Ford truck appears out of nowhere and I slam on my brakes. It’s too late, though, and I feel the impact as my rear bumper connects with the truck, the loud crunching sound audible over the music on the radio. I slam my fists on the steering wheel.
“Dammit!” I shout.
Even though we’re in a parking lot, I turn the engine off, jump out of my car, and see the guy in the truck standing there. He’s really tall and big. He’s got a little bit of a beer belly, but his wide shoulders and thick arms make him look like a guy who used to be a bodybuilder or a football player. He’s got lank dirty blond hair that hangs to his shoulders, dark eyes, and his cheeks are pitted with old acne scars which make his visage all the more fierce and intimidating.
The man is glowering at me, his face red, his nostrils flaring. He looks like a bull that’s getting ready to charge, making me suddenly wish I had a red cape and a sword.
“What the hell? Don’t you look before you pull out?” he snarls as he puffs up.
The way he’s looking at me and the fact that he’s obviously trying to use his size to intimidate me sends a white-hot bolt of anger surging through me. There is nothing worse than a bully and they never fail to piss me off.
“I was looking. You came out of nowhere,” I growl back at him. “Maybe if you’d been looking, you would have seen me backing out!”
“Oh no, you’re not puttin’ this on me. This is your fault. You
ran into me,” he snapped back.
“That’s bullshit. This is your fault. You weren’t paying attention, not to mention the fact that you were driving too fast in a parking lot!”
He closes the distance between us in the blink of an eye. He’s so quick for his size, and I’m so startled by his sudden movement that I take a step back and bump into the car I’d been parked next to. He looms over me with a menacing look on his face, his deep set eyes filled with rage. I look around the parking lot and although there are plenty of cars filling it, there aren’t many people walking through… and the few who are don’t even seem to notice what’s happening.
I try to bite back the fear that’s surging through me, not wanting to let this man get the better of me. But the tall pole-mounted lights don’t reach this section of the parking lot, leaving us in gloomy shadows. More than that, my mace is in my bag, which is sitting on the passenger seat of the car… where it’s not going to do me one bit of good. Though I try to conquer my fears, I’m realistic enough to know that if this man wanted to do something terrible to me, he could and there wouldn’t be anything I could do to stop him. And the way he’s staring at me, with pure malice in his eyes, tells me he’s giving it some serious thought.
“Look,” I say. “I don’t want any trouble. Let’s just exchange information, go our separate ways, and let the insurance companies handle it.”
He looks at me like he wants to physically tear me limb from limb. But when I glance at his truck, I see that I barely put a dent in it. Not that you’d be able to really distinguish it from the myriad of other dents and scratches and rust spots. But I’m going to do whatever I can to get out of here as fast as I can. This guy just radiates violence in the way Ruby imagines Derek does, and I feel unsafe here.
“Fine,” he says. “But you’re gonna pay for the damage you did.”
“Fine. Great,” I reply.
I wait until he’s walking back to his truck before I turn my back on him and go to my car to fetch my insurance information from the glove box. When I grab it and turn around, I find the guy standing there, his face still hard, his expression dark. I give a start and feel my heart lurch. It’s amazing to me that a man this size is able to move so quickly and so quietly. It’s unnerving.
“Jesus,” I gasp, putting my hand to my chest.
A smirk crosses his lips. “Little jumpy tonight, ain’t you?”
There’s a cutting remark sitting on the tip of my tongue, but I manage to bite it back. Even though I’d love to verbally thrash this guy and have no doubt I could do it, the last thing I should be doing is escalating this situation.
“Let’s just get this over with,” I say.
It takes a few minutes, but we finally manage to exchange our information. I take my card and license back and return his to him. He snatches it out of my hand with a growl then turns and stalks back to his truck. Only when he slams his door and drives away in a cloud of smoke and squealing tires do I dare let out a breath, though I continue to tremble.
“Jerk,” I mutter.
The back of my car has a ding and some scratches. I run a hand through my hair and sigh, willing myself to be calm. It’s over. He’s gone. And I survived the encounter. That’s all that matters.
Chapter Sixteen
Spyder
“I’m just glad you’re all right,” I tell her. “That’s all that matters to me.”
“It was pretty scary at the moment but after I slept on it, I figured that maybe I was making more out of it than there was. I think I was just shaken up and he was so big that I just made some assumptions. Maybe wrong assumptions,” she replies.
“I dunno. You’ve got pretty good instincts. Not to mention the fact that you’re one of the sharpest people I know. If you were afraid of the guy, there was probably a good reason for it,” I state.
She called me last night to tell me about her fender bender and the big, scary guy who tried to intimidate her. She’d been pretty rattled, and I’d offered to come over and sit with her a while, but she said she was okay. I guess her mom was having a bad night and that probably had something to do with it as well. But Bellamy’s a tough, strong woman. If she says she is all right, I believe her.
But we made plans for her to come by the garage at the compound this morning so I can take a look at her car. The other reason I wanted her to come by the clubhouse is so that she can see firsthand that we’re not the group of bloodthirsty, gun-toting, smack-running murderers so many people seem to think we are. Yeah, we’re a little rough around the edges, but we’re all vets. That’s just the way we are.
She’d said she was okay with everything I told her at dinner last night. But it wasn’t hard to spot the uneasiness that lingered in her eyes. She has misgivings. And I suppose I can understand that. If you’re on the outside of an MC and your only knowledge of them comes from television or the rumors that run rampant all over town, you’re going to think we’re sketchy as hell. So, I wanted to show her we’re not all that bad. I wanted her to see it with her own eyes.
It’s pretty empty around here today—Prophet, the rest of Leadership, and a few of the other guys are all out doing recon, from what I’ve been told. But the guys who are here have been welcoming to her. They’ve all introduced and behaved themselves, as well as shown her we’re really not anything like the monsters the people in town like to say we are. They’ve pretty much just accepted her, which I think has made her feel a bit better about the MC as a whole.
“It was pretty scary at the time, but like I said, I might have jumped to conclusions,” she says as her eyes roam the compound before settling back on me pointedly. “It wouldn’t be the first time I did that.”
I chuckle, catching her meaning. She may have misjudged us, but I think that’s something that’s totally different than being in a tense and potentially dangerous situation like she was in last night. It’s apples and oranges as far as I’m concerned.
“You’ve got good instincts and you’re intuitive as hell, Bellamy. Always have been,” I tell her. “Don’t ever start second-guessing yourself because that could be a fatal mistake. When you’re in a situation like you were in last night, all you have are your instincts and intuition. Listen to them. They won’t steer you wrong.”
She frowns a little and kicks at a small pebble near her shoe. The way the sunlight falls on her makes her hair shine like gold and her skin glow. It casts a nimbus around her, making her look like an angel descended from the heavens. She truly is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known and as I think about the time that we spent together last night, I can’t help but feel my arousal growing.
Clearing my throat, I push those thoughts away. At least for now. There’s a time and a place to let that beast out of its cage and right now isn’t it. No matter how bad I’d love to take her somewhere and bang her brains out. She needs some reassurance and understanding more than anything else right now. I squat down and take a look at the rear of her car, running my fingertips over the scratches and cracks.
“What was his name?” I ask. “The guy you bumped into?”
“Oh, I don’t recall at the moment. Paul or something—something that started with a P, I think.”
I file the information away, thinking that it might come in handy at some point. How many huge men who drive beat-up trucks with names that start with P can there be in Blue Rock? When and if I track him down, I figure I’m going to need to have a discussion with him about common courtesy.
“So… what do you think?” she asks.
“Shouldn’t be too hard to fix. Just need to buff out some of the scratches and the paint his truck left behind. A new taillight cover and something to seal up and polish the cracks in the bumper,” I say, shaking my head.
She cocks her head and looks at me. “What is it?”
“Oh, nothing,” I reply with a chuckle. “Just thinking about how everything’s made from plastic these days. Back when they made real cars, your bumper would have been made from go
od American steel. Probably wouldn’t have even scratched it. It definitely wouldn’t have cracked it.”
She grins. “We do live in a disposable society.”
“That we do.”
I walk into the garage and fish around in the boxes of spare parts we keep around—all labeled and tidy as per the rules of the clubhouse—for anybody who needs to work on their rides. Amazingly enough, I find a taillight cover that fits her housing and I have it on in a matter of minutes.
“Voilà. Just like new,” I say. “More or less.”
“You are amazing.”
“Yeah, I know.”
She laughs. “It’s your modesty that keeps me coming back, though.”
“I figured as much.”
She leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek and a smile. I give her a wink then walk into the garage to find the buffer. After getting it put together and plugged in, I walk back out to her car and put down a little polish, then turn the buffer on and go to work. It only takes me a few minutes to buff the scratches out and get the truck’s paint off her bumper.
The damage to her car is minimal and I have to think it was even less to the big Chevy truck she said he was driving. It certainly didn’t merit the sort of angry, in-your-face, threatening response Bellamy described. It just reinforces the notion in my head that people really are unreasonable assholes. It was an accident, and from what she told me about the accident, it sounds like it was his fault, anyway. I’ve got to think he knew that and preemptively went after her to shift the blame and to make her think twice about going after him for damages. Which also tells me he’s an idiot given the lack of any substantial damage.
My task done, I turn off the buffer and stand up to scrutinize my work. “That’ll do for now. We still need to get some sealant for those cracks. Don’t want them spreading. Once we get it sealed, we can think about getting the bumper painted to cover them up completely.”