Out of the Ashes

by Anne Malcom

  I relaxed into his body, enjoying the feeling of waking up to desire and a tender version of my favorite biker.

  “Fuck,” he groaned in a gravelly voice, “Don’t do that Wildcat, you need to get up.” He gripped my breast, tweaking my nipple.

  I moaned slightly. “I respectfully disagree,” I whispered back. “I do not need to go anywhere.”

  Zane flipped me so I was on my back and he hovered over me. “I wanna fuck you so bad right now, Mia,” he growled.

  “No one’s stopping you,” I said in a low voice, desire pooling in my stomach.

  Zane’s jaw clenched. “That’s stopping me.” He nodded over to a clock on a bedside table.

  My sleepy eyes followed his and I jerked up when I saw the time. “Holy Cheese Whiz,” I half yelled. “Lexie will be up in like, minutes! I’ve got to go.” I struggled to get up from underneath the human version of a paperweight.

  Zane’s hand spanned my throat, holding me down firmly. Another wave of arousal tickled through me at the way he held me down. I could tell he felt it too by the way his eyes flared.

  His other hand reached down to cup me between my legs. I struggled not to let my eyes roll to the back of my head. “Zane,” I whispered.

  His hand started working my clit. “Know you need to go, babe, but you also need to come,” he said roughly, still holding my neck.

  His hand moved faster and I lost all coherent thought. His rough, callused, fingers quickly brought me to orgasm faster than I thought possible. It may have been quick, but it was still earth-shattering.

  Zane slowly moved his hand off my neck and leaned down to claim my mouth. “Fuckin’ hottest thing I’ve ever seen, watching you come, still shakin’ off sleep. Never knew anyone to look that sexy right after they woke up, baby,” he murmured against my mouth.

  I smiled lazily, enjoying yet another full sentence. “You’ve yet to wake up with a Victoria Secret model. I’m sure they’ll give me a run for my money,” I replied.

  “Don’t plan on wakin’ up with anyone else, Wildcat,” he replied with seriousness.

  My eyes snapped open. We may have talked certainty and “you are mine” last night but we certainly didn’t talk long term “you are my last” type crap. Commitment phrases like that might be better than coffee than waking me up.

  Zane didn’t seem to notice my reaction; he rubbed my nose against his. “Need to give Lexie the lowdown, babe,” he ordered softly. “Then we can actually wake up together without you having to rush off.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I agree Lexie needs to know we’re dating.” I emphasized the last word. “In which a certain amount of time will go by before we even begin to contemplate sleepovers,” I told him firmly.

  “Babe. I don’t date. Lexie knows her mother isn’t a virgin. I’m not fucking around with that. I’m in your bed tonight,” he said with a tone that brokered no argument.

  “I’m sure that’s the tone you use on infidels you beat into submission, but I’m not budging,” I said snippily, sliding out from the bed to gather my clothes.

  Zane watched me get dressed and didn’t say a word. Once I was dressed, I put my hands on my hips and stood at the bed. “I didn’t know it was possible to wake up deliriously happy, have a great orgasm, then get pissed off within the space of,” I glanced at the clock, “fifteen minutes. But you, Zane....” I paused. “Holy shit. I don’t even know your last name.” I put my head in my hands. “I’m a terrible example for Lexie. I’ve been sleeping with a guy and I don’t even know his last name. Or his favorite movie. Or his stance on....”

  Zane ended my tirade by reaching over and pulling me to lie on top of him. “Williams,” he said. His hand brushed the hair out of my face. “Other stuff, not important. To me, anyway. If it is to you, we’ll get to it. For now, you gotta get home to your girl.” He kissed me lightly on the mouth, then it got deeper. “Tonight I’m in your bed,” he told me firmly.

  Drunk from the kiss, I nodded distractedly and pushed off the bed. I wandered home in a kind of trance. It wasn’t until I had finished my first cup of coffee that I realized what I agreed to.

  “Hey there, sleepyhead,” I greeted a rumpled and disheveled-looking Lexie as she stumbled into the living room, clinging to a coffee cup.

  She didn’t answer, merely sank into the sofa beside me and nestled into the crook of my arm, her eyes on the TV. I squeezed her shoulder and silently treasured the last moment of cuddles from my soon to be grown up daughter. We were affectionate, Lexie and I. But she was getting to an age when snuggling your mother on the couch was getting to be a rare thing. I knew one day it would become nonexistent. We were silent for a moment.

  “Your body finally realized that it’s a teenager and it cannot get up at six a.m. after a night on stage,” I joked.

  Lexie sipped her coffee. “I’m not planning on commencing said lifestyle until I learn how to function without eight hours of sleep,” she declared, making it known that the past two days had caught up with her.

  “As long as coffee is the only substance you abuse to get through lack of sleep, that’s fine with me,” I told her.

  “Okay, so I should throw out the cocaine I scored on Friday night then?” she deadpanned.

  I pretended to think. “Just leave it on my nightstand,” I told her with seriousness.

  We lapsed into silence and I stroked her head.

  “Got something to talk to you about, kid,” I said quietly. I was dreading this conversation. Yes, Lexie seemed to think Zane hung the moon, but this was more than a man who seemed interesting and cool and slightly exotic. This was a man coming into our lives. It had always just been me and Lexie. We were best friends. Our lives were happy and full of laughter. I was wondering how she would react to someone shaking that up. Someone who didn’t exactly live a life of sunshine and laughter like we did.

  “Does it start with a Z and end with an ’ane’?” my perceptive daughter asked, lifting her head.

  “You’ve got more brains than I give you credit for, Dollface,” I said.

  “More than just a hat rack.” She tapped her head. She was silent and gave me a look. “Mom, it’s like totally obvious. Even the guys in the band saw it. I saw it way before then,” she said impatiently.

  Of course she had. Batman had it right. Double lives were hard. Hence the mask.

  “And you’re not mad? Don’t have questions?” I probed.

  Lexie fully sat up, placing her coffee on the table. “Mad? No way! I’m ecstatic. You deserve someone, Mom. You’ve had years of bringing me up, working your butt off to give us this.” Her hands gestured around the house. “I would always worry you didn’t have someone. Now I get it, you were waiting for the right person. Zane’s your person,” she told me confidently.

  I shook my head. She saw what even my broken soul stopped me from seeing. “Yeah kid, he’s my person. But you’re my one and only, you know that, right? My main person. No one ever knocks you off that spot,” I told her firmly.

  Lexie rolled her eyes. “Well, duh. I’m like the most amazing daughter ever. Even a hot biker couldn’t knock me off that spot,” she said. “Plus, I’m your meal ticket for when you retire. You need to stay on my good side.” She smiled at me brightly before standing up. “Got homework to do. Glad you’re happy, Mom,” she added the last bit quietly.

  “Was always happy, kid,” I answered honestly.

  She winked at me and sauntered out of the room.

  Before I had time to think much about how awesome that conversation went my phone rang.

  “Hey babe, Gwen gave me your number. Hope you don’t mind,” Amy’s voice greeted once I answered the phone.

  I smiled and sank back into the sofa. “No, I don’t mind at all,” I told her honestly. I was happy these women had injected themselves into my and Lexie’s life so easily. We were social. I was social. I needed girlfriends only slightly less than I needed coffee. Although I sporadically talked to ones from home, I was lonely until these wome
n came along.

  “Saaweet. Well, I am calling to ask you and Lexie to come with me to LA to show me your sweet vintage shops, but I also have ulterior motives,” she spoke quickly. “Me, Gwen, Rosie and Lucy totally need the rundown on you and Bull. And I also wanted to make sure he didn’t like kill you and bury your body under the cover of darkness—he looked pissed at Lexie’s gig.” She paused. “Well, more pissed than usual.”

  I laughed. I hadn’t wanted to talk too much about Zane to anyone. Maybe it was because I was ashamed, or because I didn’t feel full confident spilling my guts to people who were so close to him. Whatever it was stopping me, the barriers fell away and I found myself blurting the whole thing to Amy over the phone.

  “So now he’s declaring me ‘his’ and talking about sleeping over here on the day I told my daughter about us and I’m worried this will send her the wrong message about sleeping with people and label me as a brazen hussy,” I finished, slightly breathless.

  There was a full ten seconds of silence at the other end of the phone. “I’m coming over,” Amy declared finally.

  I tried to protest that Lexie was within hearing distance, but I only got dead air. “Shit,” I muttered.

  I decided to quickly tidy the house. It wasn’t exactly messy, but whenever I had company coming, I couldn’t help but straighten things up. Within minutes of finishing, I heard a knock at my door. I had checked in on Lexie to give her food and more coffee and she was hard at work with headphones in. Hopefully that meant the possibility of her getting scarred for life while overhearing her mom describe her sexscapades was significantly lower.

  I opened the door to not only Amy, but Rosie and Lucy.

  “Gwen can’t come ‘cause she had a baby doctor appointment,” Amy explained as I let them in the house. “She was going to try and get out of it but Cade gets all protective and pissy about that kind of stuff.” She rolled her eyes. “So I brought reinforcements.” She gestured to the women, then unearthed two bottles of wine out of her Celine handbag.

  I gaped at her. “Amy, it’s barely lunchtime,” I told her.

  Amy gave me a confused look. “So? We’re talking Bull entering into a relationship here. Wine is needed. I’ll get glasses.” Without another word she disappeared without asking where the kitchen was.

  Lucy surprised me by hugging me. Something danced beneath her eyes. “Knew someone like you would catch one of the boy’s eyes,” she said quietly. “But I didn’t guess you would commence in fixing something I always thought would be broken,” she said softly.

  I jerked, not really knowing how to answer that, so I instead gestured to the hall leading to the back. “Let’s take this outside.”

  So that’s how I ended up replaying the story of Zane and I to Amy, Lucy and Rosie, who interjected routinely with questions and had their mouths agape when I finished the story.

  Amy had a small smile on her face when I finished. “This is so fucking awesome!” she declared and I was surprised she didn’t fist pump.

  I sipped my second glass of wine. “I don’t know. Isn’t this too fast? Especially in front of Lexie?” I asked uncertainly.

  Rosie waved her hand. “No such thing. Your girl’s sixteen. She’s a product of modern society—she ain’t gonna bat one of those pretty little eyelashes, especially when she sees her mom’s happy,” she reassured me.

  “Yeah, but this is just so intense, I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. He seemed so adamant he couldn’t give me more. Now here we are...more.” I held out my hands.

  Rosie gave me a sad smile. There was something behind it I couldn’t place. “Bull’s been through a lot. He probably didn’t think he’d ever have more. Ever want more. Now he does. Probably took him awhile to get right with that. He’s still probably trying to get right with that,” she told me softly.

  Something moved in my mind. “What did he go through?” I asked, mindful of my own ordeal locked beneath years of hurt.

  Lucy and Rosie exchanged a look. “That’s not for us to tell you. It’s better to come from Bull,” Lucy said slowly.

  Rosie pursed her lips like she didn’t agree but nodded.

  I groaned. “I’ve only barely got him on full sentences, I don’t know when we’ll make it to his life story,” I complained.

  “Man like that, who needs him to talk?” Amy commented.

  On that we all laughed and conversation lightened and moved on. I didn’t forget Rosie’s words, or the niggling feeling in the back of my mind that there was a lot to Zane I didn’t know about.

  The women left a few hours and a bottle of wine later. Lexie popped in to have a chat and charmed the socks off them all before retreating back to her room to finish her homework. I switched to water after my second glass, not needing to promote day drinking in front of a teenager. Rosie was the designated driver, so she stopped after one glass. But I was happy to have a weight off my chest, even if it meant I still had more unanswered questions when it came to Zane and the Sons of Templar. I had asked the women what exactly went on with the club and they had told me it was like a big family. I knew there was more than that to what seemed like an outlaw motorcycle club, but they didn’t betray too much information. I got that. It was Zane’s place to fill me in. I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to know, but I knew I had to. I had more than one person to think about. And as much as it would pain me to have any kind of distance between not only Zane but the people connected to the club, I would do it for my daughter’s safety. I couldn’t jeopardize it when I’d worked so hard to keep her safe from her own blood.

  “Mom?” a small voice asked me, jolting me out of my thoughts. I was doing the most dreaded job in existence, folding laundry, so I was happy for the distraction.

  “I’ll give you a hundred dollars right here and now if you agree to fold the washing for the reminder of your time living at home,” I offered.

  She scrunched up her nose. “That’s one hundred dollars over three and a half years. That’s like...thirty-eight bucks a year, give or take.” She raised her eyebrow. “That’s slave labor—even Cinderella would have gotten more pocket money than that,” she observed, sitting beside me.

  “Cinderella got fancy shoes and a prince for a husband out of the deal,” I reminded her.

  She gave me a look. “So in addition to the hundred dollars, you’re going to wave a magic wand to get me horrifically uncomfortable shoes and a prince for a husband?” she asked.

  I shook my head, “Of course not, I don’t need a wand to give you horrifically uncomfortable shoes. Just check out my closet. Fashion is pain,” I told her sagely. “And on the prince front, I don’t doubt your ability in snagging one of your own, though you better hurry up. All the good ones are getting snaffled up,” I finished.

  There was a pause. I glanced up; Lexie seemed…nervous? Lexie never got nervous. Not with me. My stomach dropped and ran through all the possible bombshells a teenage girl could drop. Should not have done that.

  “What’s up, sweetie?” I went for calm, trying not to pounce on her and search for the tattoo she was hiding.

  “I was wondering,” she said slowly, fiddling with her hands. She quickly looked up. “Well, I’ve got a date,” she said in a rush.

  I sat back in relief. “So no tattoo?” I clarified.

  Lexie gaped at me. “Of course not! I’m only sixteen,” she told me.

  “Thanks for reminding me. I would have forgotten otherwise,” I told her dryly.

  “So, the date,” she probed. “It’s okay with you?”

  “Of course it’s not okay with me. I’d rather you became a spinster and lived with me until you were old and wrinkly, but I knew it was a long shot,” I told her. “So I guess it’s okay. As long as you’re home by ten and he doesn’t get frisky,” I said seriously. We’d had the sex talk. Multiple times. Being a product of teenage pregnancy, I really didn’t want my daughter to repeat the cycle. I also didn’t want her hiding things from me. So we had agreed when she was ready, she’d
tell me before anything happened. I personally hoped she wouldn’t be “ready” until she was thirty. But I knew that was also a pipe dream.

  “So who’s the lucky guy?” I asked. My stomach dropped as soon as the question left my mouth. I had been so wrapped up with possible tattoos or cult joining I hadn’t even caught up with my own mind.

  “Killian,” Lexie said, a small grin on her face. She even blushed slightly.

  Crap. She liked him. And I knew by the way his intense troublesome eyes followed her that afternoon he listened to her play, he liked her back. And not in a teenage boy way. In a Cade, Brock, and even Zane type of way. It was intense. And dangerous.

  I tried to stay calm. “He’s not taking you on a motorcycle, is he?” I asked with slight panic.

  Lexie patted my hand. “No, Mom, he knows your rule. He’s got a car.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “A car and a motorcycle? How does a teenage kid afford that?” I asked suspiciously.

  “He didn’t steal them, if that’s what you’re saying,” Lexie snapped defensively.

  I held my hands up. “I didn’t say anything of the sort.” I had totally been thinking it though.

  “That’s what you were thinking,” my telepathic daughter declared. “He built the car from the ground up with his dad, and Cade gave him the motorcycle to do up when it was a pile of junk,” she continued.

  “You know a lot about the kid for someone who hasn’t been on a date,” I half teased.

  Lexie furrowed her brows. “Yes, because we talked first. Had actual conversations. Became friends. Isn’t that what you taught me to do?”

  Drat. I did teach her that. “Take a chill pill, dude, I was only teasing. Let’s move on to the most important question.”

  Lexie eyed me. “What?” she asked with suspicion.

  “What are you wearing?”

  It was safe to say I wasn’t happy about Lexie’s date. I was far from it. But I couldn’t tell her whom she could and couldn’t date. Well, technically I could since I was her mother, but I knew what doing something like that would do. Not only distance me from her, but possibly rock the peaceful relationship I had with her and turn a good kid into a hellion. I’d seen it happen with girls I’d been to high school with. The stricter the parents, the more they rebelled. The only difference was the parents didn’t know a thing. I didn’t want Lexie to lie to me, so I knew I couldn’t stifle her with rules or else it would bite me in the ass. And she was a good kid. I trusted her. It was the little punk in the leather jacket I didn’t trust. So when he knocked on the door later that night, my stomach was swirling. Lexie came running into the kitchen.