by Anne Malcom
“Um hey,” I greeted back, unsure of what to do when half surrounded by mean-looking bikers. I guessed the smartest thing to do would have been run a mile. But I couldn’t exactly do that in broad daylight. That would look pretty stupid. Plus, I couldn’t run in these heels. I had to believe these guys meant no harm. Not in the middle of a reasonably busy street, in the middle of the day, anyway.
He continued to give me a look; this time there was something more working behind it, as if he recognized me. He wasn’t exactly bad-looking. His shaggy hair touched his shoulders and was in need of a wash. His beard definitely needed trimming, but his face was handsome, in a mean kind of way. He was tall, and he seemed to be using his height and considerable muscles to intimidate me. His friends were a mixture. Some older and decidedly not attractive, others younger and not bad. It was the way they were looking at me that made them unattractive. In a way that made my skin crawl.
The guy’s face lit up like he had placed me. “I know you,” he declared with a smile. One that I did not like. “You’re my buddy Bull’s woman, right?” he asked, folding his arms.
I did not know how to answer this. I didn’t exactly know if I was Zane’s “woman” considering we only recently had the “you are mine” conversation. I didn’t exactly want to discuss this with these men. I’m sure they wouldn’t offer any helpful insight. I also found it hard to believe this guy was Zane’s buddy. From what little I knew the men at the club were the only friends Zane had. They weren’t buddies; they were brothers. But who was I to say? I knew precious little about the man that shared my bed. But in this situation, my instincts were screaming at me to be careful.
“Um, yeah,” I said slowly. “I’m his,” I said more firmly.
The men all smiled at me. My skin definitely crawled this time.
Before they had the time to answer, I felt someone at my side.
“Mom?” Lexie asked quietly in my ear.
I jolted when all sets of eyes focused on my daughter in a way that made me want to scratch their eyes out.
“Heya, sweetie,” the bearded guy drawled. “Shit, you’re almost as pretty as your momma,” he said, eyes darting between us.
Lexie gave me a look before meeting his eyes, no fear evident. I tried to position myself slightly in front of her, while looking around the street for a friendly policeman to be wandering by. None could be seen, and the few pedestrians that were around seemed to be crossing the street to avoid the bikers. Great.
“Thanks,” Lexie said firmly.
I was about to grab her hand and make our escape when the biker spoke again.
“You need to let Bull know he shouldn’t be letting his woman and her pretty little daughter walk the streets alone,” he said slowly. “It’s not safe for girls like you.” His voice seemed to hold a threat beneath the fake concern. “Let him know you ran into Logan and we’re happy to keep an eye on you both. More than happy.” He stared at us a moment longer before tipping an imaginary hat and getting on his bike, along with his buddies and leaving. I stayed rooted to the spot the entire time, refusing to scuttle off like I wanted to.
“Ew. Totally need a shower after that,” I declared, going for airy. I didn’t need to broadcast to my kid that little meeting had scared me slightly.
Lexie grabbed my hand. “Yeah, they were creeps,” she agreed. “Shopping is definitely needed to wipe such an event out of our minds,” she said, directing us into the store.
Half an hour later, Lexie seemed to have forgotten about the incident entirely, while it still niggled at the edge of my mind. I did my best to shop it out of my system, although it did taint the experience slightly. I was angry at them for that alone. I decided to let Lexie do the shopping from then on, sitting myself on the sofa outside the changing rooms, playing the stylist. Lexie had just gone back in after showing me a sequined mini dress she just had to get, and my phone rang.
“You have reached the Queen of All Things Known and Unknown, currently stylist for rock star Miss Lexie Spencer,” I answered professionally.
“Mia?” The deep voice at the end of the phone sounded pissed and slightly panicked.
“I do also answer to that name. What service may I perform for you, kind sir?” I continued, whispering the last part slightly.
There was a pause. I grinned. Totally got him. “Where the fuck are you?” he clipped. Okay maybe not.
“Currently, I’m in a kick ass vintage store, saving beautiful clothes from being subjected to the horror of being unworn,” I said, patting the pile we had amassed.
“In Hope?” he gritted out.
I straightened. “How did you know that? Did your friend call you already?” I asked, confused. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe that guy was Zane’s friend, no matter how skeevy. “If that’s the case, tell him he’d be decidedly less creepy if he showered, and kept the leering of my daughter at a complete fricking zero, even if he was promising to look out for us,” I added, sounding slightly pissed at the end of the sentence.
There was a pause. A loaded pause. “Leering at Lexie?” he repeated quietly. Dangerously quietly. “Mia, who the fuck are you talking about?” His voice was urgent.
At that moment Lexie came out, wearing a green dress that did nothing for her. I made a cutting gesture along my throat. “No honey, that one is not cute,” I told her firmly and she disappeared back into the room.
“Mia,” the voice was more furious than I’d heard in a while.
“Logan, your biker friend,” I told him patiently.
His response was instant. “Tell me where you are right now.”
I rattled off the address, more out of reflex than anything else. He sounded...freaked out. It chilled my bones slightly.
“Do not leave that fuckin’ store,” he commanded, then he was gone.
I frowned down at my phone, my stomach swirling slightly. The way Zane had sounded caused me to realize my first instinct with these guys had been correct. They were bad news. And not friends of Zane if his excessive cursing was anything to go by. I was more than happy to stay in the store if that meant we were safe from creepy bikers. It also meant we got to shop more. Twenty minutes and a small fashion show later, I heard the rumble of motorcycles, plural. Which was good timing as we had just rung up our considerable purchases.
I didn’t tell Lexie about Zane’s strange call, only mentioned he might swing by and say hello. Her face had brightened at this. But on peeking out the window at the multiple bikes, I didn’t exactly know how to explain that.
“Wow, looks like half the club is out there,” Lexie remarked in amazement as we left the store.
“Maybe they like vintage shopping here too,” I answered, not missing the way Zane nearly leapt off his bike when he spotted as. “Who knows,” I added, trying not to seem nervous, “maybe there’s a shop called ‘Alpha Style’ around the corner.”
Zane made it to us and he quickly ran his gaze along us both, as if he was checking for something. His face relaxed a tad when he seemed satisfied. I say a tad, because he still looked ready to blow.
“Zane,” Lexie greeted enthusiastically. “Fancy seeing you here. You coming to the movies?” she asked with a hopeful tone. I don’t know if she ignored the scary look on his face and the lineup of bikers at the curb or just didn’t notice it. My girl was observant, so I knew it wasn’t the latter.
“Come to make sure you and your mom got home okay, Lex,” he told her quietly.
I jerked slightly at this and Lexie’s face turned blank. She knew what was going on. I didn’t. “We weren’t going home--” I started to argue.
Zane silenced me with a look. “Car. Now, Mia,” he ordered quietly.
Something in his tone, his look had me complying without another protest. Something that told me Zane and half the club would not come hurtling to another town in order to escort me home if it wasn’t important. Wasn’t dangerous. Lexie’s safety was tantamount to me at this moment. I’d get to the bottom of this when we were home. The look
I gave Zane hopefully communicated this.
The whole drive home we were trailed by bikes. It felt kind of weird, like we had some sort of royal escort. Then I remembered the other bikers. It went from weird to downright scary. I didn’t let Lexie think this was the case. I acted like having a motorcycle club escort us home from a shopping trip was something that happened every day. She played along, joking and talking about her various purchases. But her eyes flickered behind us every now and then. When we made it to the sign welcoming us to Amber, most of the bikes veered off. Except one. One that followed us the entire way home. Another bike was parked outside our house when I pulled up which had Killian leaning against it, his shades watching the car’s journey.
Lexie leapt out of the car to run over to him.
“Don’t worry!” I yelled to her back. “Your humble slave will carry your considerable purchases inside.”
She waved a hand. “Thanks, Mom,” she called distractedly.
I shook my head as I got out of the car and prepared to get the bags. Tattooed hands snatched them before I could even understand what happened. Stormy eyes met mine. “House. Now,” he barked.
I jumped at his harsh tone.
“Mom!” Lexie yelled, interrupting the stare off I was about to commence.
“Yeah, doll?” I called back, ripping my eyes away from Zane.
“Is it okay if Kill and I go to the movies?” she asked, her eyes flickering to Zane a moment.
I chewed my lip. Things had obviously been serious, considering the escort we got home. I assumed whatever was going on was in Hope, and Lexie would be okay going to the movies in the late afternoon. If she wasn’t, things would seriously have to change with Zane and I.
“Sure,” I told her and Zane’s form stiffened. I ignored this. I moved away from him to make my way over to the couple.
Killian’s face seemed to be as hard as Zane’s, although his eyes softened looking at Lexie. It was a look which exceeded his seventeen years. “Hey Killian,” I greeted him warmly.
“Mia,” he nodded. I guessed that counted as a warm greeting.
“You both know my rule about motorcycles,” I said firmly. I threw my keys in Killian’s direction. He caught them with one hand. “Therefore you may take Betty. Lexie only has her learners permit and I do not trust her not to crash it. Her mad skills in most things are yet to translate into knowing how to control what we call a motor vehicle,” I told him seriously.
“Hey!” Lexie started to protest.
I silenced her with a knowing look.
“Be careful,” I warned him, my eyes reminding him of my murder threat. He nodded tightly.
He pushed off his bike and grabbed Lexie’s hand. “Let’s go, Freckles,” he told her softly. “You can tell me all about your struggles with the complex process of driving on the way,” he teased lightly.
Lexie gave me a scowl and I blew her a kiss before she turned her back. I made my way back to a tense Zane, who watched my car reverse in the driveway.
“Killian looks funny driving Betty,” I commented, tilting my head. “I’m surprised my car doesn’t like, eject such a masculine being out of a such a girly car.”
My joke didn’t defuse any tension. Zane grabbed my elbow roughly and dragged me into the house.
“Hey!” I protested, ripping my arm out of his grasp. “Careful with the merchandise, buddy!” I rubbed my arm slightly.
Zane dropped the bags at his feet and stalked towards me. I backed into the closed door without even knowing until he had me boxed in.
“Would you like to tell me,” he began on a quiet tone, “what the fuck you were doing in Hope?”
I took a breath and moved my eyes to meet his, unsure of what made him so furious. “Shopping,” I told him honestly.
“Shopping?” he repeated quietly.
I nodded. “Evidence is right there, officer.” I nodded to the bags.
He slammed his open palm against the door and I jumped at the explosion of anger. It was only clothes. Jeez.
“Is everything a fuckin’ joke with you, Mia?” he half yelled.
I didn’t answer because I think that was a rhetorical question.
“You need to tell me exactly what happened with Logan,” he demanded.
I quickly recounted the interaction with the other biker that had Zane all riled, hopefully to get an explanation as to the origin of such rage.
He was silent for a moment when I finished, his frame scarily still. He seemed to be holding himself back from doing something.
I swallowed my fear. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. “Those guys, they’re not your friends, are they?” I asked the question I already knew the answer to.
Zane didn’t speak, only shook his head slightly.
“Me and Lexie,” I began slowly, my face draining. “We’re not in danger, are we?” I asked in slight horror over the fact I had just sent me daughter off to the movies.
Zane stepped back, right out of my space. His eyes stayed locked on mine. “No,” he promised, his voice firm. “Not anymore,” he added roughly.
My stomach sank at something behind those words.
I stayed with my back against the door. “What does that mean?” I asked slowly, even though I thought I knew the answer. And the hurt sliced through me already.
“Means we’re done,” he said flatly, without emotion. With dead eyes.
I flinched slightly from the pain from those three words. I stepped forward, not toward him, but toward the sofa. My legs were in danger of giving out. I chided myself for being so weak. For letting a man worm his way into my heart once more. Giving him the power to affect me so deeply. To hurt me.
“You promised,” I half whispered, sinking down on the sofa. I lifted my head meeting his eyes. “You promised,” I repeated, this time, louder, stronger. “That you were certain. That you wouldn’t hurt Lexie—hurt me.”
Something moved in Zane’s eyes as I said that, but his face stayed blank. He stood there watching me. “That’s what I’m doing,” he finally said, “keeping my promise.”
And with that, he walked out the door.
Bull stormed into the clubhouse, striding through the bar and crashing through the closed doors to church.
“Want to tell me how the fuck that happened?” he roared at Cade while the rest of his brothers stared at him.
His best friend and president regarded him coolly for a moment. “Sit down...” he began.
“I will not fuckin’ sit down and calmly discuss this shit. We are going to storm their fuckin’ clubhouse. Now,” he demanded. There were a couple of nods from around the table.
Cade ignored this. “You know we can’t do that shit. Gotta play this smart,” he said evenly.
Bull walked over to the head of the table and slammed his fist down. “Walked right up to my woman, her fuckin’ kid, threatened them in broad fuckin’ daylight,” he hissed at his friend. “That was Gwen and Belle, would you be playin’ this smart?”
Cade’s face hardened. “I’d be acting the exact same way you were, brother,” he said quietly. “I’d hope my club would talk me down. Make me see such a move could be more dangerous in the long run.”
Bull and Cade stared at each other for a long moment, Bull struggling to keep himself together. “Broad fuckin’ daylight,” he repeated and Cade’s eyes hardened.
His brother knew exactly what he was talking about. He wasn’t having anything else he cared about snatched away from him. Which was why he righted his colossal fucking mistake with Mia an hour ago. Should never have gotten close. Made her his. That put her in danger.
“They’ve got eyes on us,” he declared once he had himself in some form of control, once he battled the demons down to their cage. “Knew who Mia was,” he continued in a hard voice, taking his place at the table.
There was a multitude of hard looks with this declaration and the air turned dangerous.
“They’re going to be dealt with,” Cade declared. “When Old Ladies get
involved, any form of mercy goes out the window.”
There was a chorus of agreements at this.
Cade’s eyes flared. “We deal with these fuckers. Tonight.”
At this Bull grinned.
The man coughed up blood and Bull stood emotionless, having enjoyed every moment of beating the shit out of Logan, the president of the Lost Knights. He stepped back so Cade could clutch him by the collar.
“I suspect you and your boys,” he glanced around at the various men who lay on the floor groaning. A couple were moaning over some bullet holes, which were barely flesh wounds, the pussies. “Have gotten our friendly message,” Cade continued blandly.
It had been laughably easy to storm their poor excuse for a clubhouse. They may have been recruiting heavily, but most of the shitheads they recruited were idiots who laid down their guns pretty quickly when they realized they were outmanned and outgunned.
Logan glared at him and said nothing.
Cade didn’t seem outwardly bothered, but a muscle in his jaw ticked. Bull itched to put a bullet through his skull, but the club was aiming to go legit. Which meant murder was frowned upon under their new rules. Or at least was a last resort.
“Your choice,” Cade told him, “You can agree to stay the fuck away from Amber and our women,” he tightened his grip on Logan’s collar at this, “or Bull here can drill a couple of rounds into you kneecap and see how you feel toward such a situation after that,” he informed the sorry excuse for a president.
Bull stepped forward, his trigger finger itching as he clasped his gun.
Logan paled slightly, his eyes darting to Bull. “Fine,” he gritted out.
Cade let him go quickly, his body falling to the floor. “That wasn’t that hard now, was it?” he asked, wiping his gloved hands on his jeans. His face turned cold. “You do know we don’t give second warnings. We even catch a glimpse of your patch we’ll be burning this place to the ground. With you inside it,” he promised. And it wasn’t an empty one either.
With that, Cade and the rest of the club left. Each stepped on a piece of shit as they made their way out, laughing at the groans emitted from various prone bodies.