by Atlas, Lilly
If the price for remaining in the closet was this gaping hole in his heart, he wanted no part of it. He wanted to be comfortable in his own skin. He wanted to be good with who he was. And who he was, was a man in love with a woman and another man. The way he’d hurt those two people…Christ that could never happen again. It nearly killed him as much as it must have hurt them. Jazz especially, since they’d both lobbed their shit her way.
So it was time for him to grow some balls, get the fuck over his shitty childhood, and deal with the fear that came with coming out.
He took a deep breath. “I’m bisexual,” he said. “I’ve been seeing Jazz and Screw together and I’m pretty sure I’m in love with both of them.”
He waited for the nausea. For the heart-pounding, sweat-inducing anxiety. He waited for mockery, revulsion, and castigation from Striker. Hell, he waited for his VP’s fist to fly across the room and crash into his jaw.
He got none of that.
Instead his insides…lightened. An airy feeling of being free engulfed him.
Striker frowned and raised an eyebrow. The cigarette drooped to his chin. “That it?”
It was Gumby’s turn to frown. “What do you mean?
“What do you mean what do I mean? I said what I meant. That it? That’s the fucking crisis that has you moping like an emo teenager? I’m assuming you didn’t just come to this conclusion yesterday.” He spoke around the dangling cigarette.
“Striker, we’ve known each other for over thirty years. I just told you I like cock.”
“Yeah, brother. Heard that part.” Striker shrugged then plucked the cigarette from his lips. “I like pussy, which it seems you do as well.” He lifted the white stick. “I like cigarettes too. So the fuck what?”
“You’re not…I mean, you don’t care? You’re not freaked out? Or disgusted?”
Striker’s face scrunched in confusion before his eyes widened. “Oh, fuck you, G.” He stood and paced the length of the room. “If you tell me you’ve kept this shit to yourself for all these years because you were worried about my reaction, I’ll kick your ass back to fucking Arizona.” He whirled, charging forward.
Gumby jumped up, meeting him head on.
Striker’s eyes had darkened to near black and his jaw ticked like he was biting back some seriously caustic shit. His VP was not pleased.
“Fuck you for that shit,” Striker said with a snarl, face contorted in fury. “You say we’ve known each other since we were kids. Then I think you fucking know I don’t give two fucks if you like pussy, cock, some combination of the two or alien fucking probing.” He was screaming now, red-faced and practically vibrating as he let loose.
Shit, his VP was pissed like Gumby hadn’t seen in years.
Shame washed over him as the words sank in. Striker was right. He knew his friend, his brother, better than that. Hell, he knew every man in his club better. All of a sudden, it hit him. Striker wasn’t pissed. He was hurt, maybe even feeling betrayed one of his closest friends kept such a monumental secret. He’d worried so much about what would happen if his club found out his secret, he’d never considered the fallout from keeping such a large part of himself locked away from the people he loved.
A knock on the door followed by Jester’s tentative, “Uh, Striker? You guys good in there?”
Striker stomped over the door, yanked it open so hard it practically ripped from the hinges, then admitted Jester with a swoop of his arm.
The big guy took one look at the two of them and grimaced. “Okay, so, not good?”
“Guess what, Jest? Gumby likes cock as well as pussy.”
With his gaze bouncing between the two of them, Jester answered with a slow “Uhh, yeah. I kinda got that when I saw that dude’s tongue down his throat a few hours ago. Which did happen by the way.” He pointed at Gumby. “Don’t try to tell me it fucking didn’t, asshole. My eyes work damn well. Emily makes me eat carrots,” he muttered under his breath.
“And do you give a shit that he likes cock?” Striker stuck the cigarette back between his lips, but at some point, he’d crushed the thing so with a scowl for Gumby, he tossed it on the table.
“Huh?” said Jester. “What? No. Why’re you asking me that shit? How long have you known me, Striker? I don’t give a shit how people fuck as long as they’re fucking. Everyone should be fucking as often as possible. Now, it might make him a greedy fucker that he’s claiming two for himself, but I’m down with greedy.” He shot Gumby a mischievous grin.
“Why? G? Why the fuck did you think we’d flip out on you?” Striker ran a hand through his brown hair.
“His old man,” Jester said with the confidence of someone who knew what the hell they were talking about.
Gumby’s jaw dropped. “What? How did you—”
“Come on, G. He’s legendary around town for being a colossal douche bag. Stories I heard about that fucker made me wish I could raise him from the dead just so I could kill him. Pretty sure there ain’t a person in the world who got misty when he finally kicked it. It’s not a stretch to think he fucked with your head about liking cock.”
“Shit,” Striker said as he plopped back down in the chair. “That’s it, isn’t it?”
With a nod, Gumby said, “Lost count of the number of ‘reminder’ beatings he gave me. Just to make sure I wasn’t slipping. Don’t want to tell you what he did to a guy he found me making out with when I was fifteen.”
Striker took out another cigarette. “I can guess. Look, brother, none of us give a fuck who you want to fuck. And if someone does, I’ll take care of it. Gonna break my heart to lose you, you know.”
His spine shot straight. “Huh? What? I’m not going anywhere.”
Striker and Jester exchanged a glance then started laughing and Gumby had the feeling he was the butt of a joke he didn’t quite understand yet.
What he did understand was that he not only had some soul searching to do, but some serious groveling.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
JAZZ WAS TEMPTED to lock her phone in her office just so she wouldn’t check the time again. She loved her job. Really loved her job, and, normally, the hours spent in Toni’s Diner flew by, but today a slug would have passed the clock.
She’d done what she needed to make it through the day. Plastered on a cheery grin she didn’t feel, made small talk she didn’t have the energy for, and ignored the heavy pit in her stomach as best she could. Though the effort wasn’t overly successful. She’d slogged through the morning in a fog of heartbreak and despair fighting tears every few moments.
And when the door jangled, alerting a new customer? Well she’d been convinced one or both of the men would come to their senses and seek her out.
She’d been wrong.
Dead wrong.
Had it all been in her head? The deep connection that seemed to extend beyond physical, reach into her soul, and soak into every cell of her body. If it was, she needed therapy because she’d done a bang-up job of misreading the situation.
All right, one more peek. She checked her phone and breathed out a sigh of relief. Fifteen minutes until closing. Another hour of clean-up and she’d be out of there.
A knock on her office door had her glancing up at Ernesto, their head chef. “Hey, Jazz, sorry to bother you. I made way too much of that chicken tortilla soup. You want to take some home?”
Ugh, the thought of eating did not appeal to her at the moment. “Um, you know what? Pack it up to go and I’ll give it to Thunder.”
Ernesto flashed her the sexy Latin smile he swore drew ladies like flies even though he was in his early fifties. “Sure thing, boss. The dining room is nearly empty, and I’ve already started cleaning in the kitchen. We should be able to get outta here in thirty.”
Finally, some good news. “Thanks. I’ll come in and help in a minute.”
With a wink and a nod, he left her office.
Two minutes later, Thunder popped his head in the open door. “Hey, babe, Viper is planning to swing
by in about forty-five minutes. He’s got something Copper wants him to hand off to me. We still gonna be here?” He smiled as he spoke. The man had a smile that made women forget their names. He knew it, too, and worked it to his advantage.
“Yeah, sure. That’s no problem,” she replied, unable to keep from grinning back at him. “Ernesto is packing up some left-over soup for you. Make sure you grab it before we head out of here.”
“Thanks, babe.” After tapping his knuckles on the door frame, he winked and left.
Well, that’d keep her there an extra fifteen minutes, but to help the club, she didn’t mind hanging around a little longer. Not like she had any plans beyond going back to Holly’s where she got to watch the happy couple ooze sweetness all over each other.
Ugh. She’d officially hit pathetic. The night before she’d laid awake staring at the ceiling of Holly’s guest room for hours, reliving every moment since the night she confessed her most painful secrets to the two men she’d fallen in love with. After hours of obsessing, once the initial sting—okay stab—of Gumby and Screw’s rejection wore off, she saw the scenario with a bit more clarity.
Gumby had panicked, which set off Screw’s anxiety, which caused them both to run. She understood, even empathized with them, but now, more than twenty-four hours later, neither had sought her out. So maybe it really was over. Maybe they’d used the time apart to realize a three-person relationship wasn’t what they wanted while she came to the firm conclusion it most certainly was what she wanted. Or maybe they just plain didn’t feel the same way about her as she did them.
The one good thing was that she hadn’t humiliated herself by professing her love to two men who didn’t want her.
With a heavy sigh and an even weightier heart, Jazz dragged herself from her office. After forcing more smiles and chit-chat, she helped clean up then waved the last of Toni’s employees off.
“See you tomorrow, Jazz,” Ernesto said as he walked toward the rear exit. “You sure you don’t want me to stick around until you guys leave?”
“Nah, get on home. I’m sure you have a date to get ready for tonight. Besides, Thunder is out there in full bodyguard mode. I’m good.”
“All right.” As he walked by, he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “See you in the a.m.”
“Enjoy the rest of your day.”
A wave of his hand and he was off.
Jazz made her way back out to the dining area in time to catch Thunder walking in.
“You almost ready to go, Jazzy Jazz?” He was so good looking. And the guy could mooove. A few weeks ago, he’d given them all an impromptu twerking lesson that still made Jazz laugh to recall. “Viper will be here in a few, then we can bust outta here.”
“Sounds good,” he said as he slipped onto a stool at the counter.
“You hungry?”
“Nah, Jazzy, I’m good. Shell brought me some food on her way out earlier. Besides, I’ll grab that soup to eat later.”
Oh, right. Shit, how had she forgotten that already? “Sorry, my brain is a little fuzzy today. Slept like shit last night.”
With a nod of that handsome head he said, “Finding a buttload of heavy artillery in your yard will do that to you.”
“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Ha, she’d nearly forgotten all about that.
Losing two men would do it even more.
Thunder cocked his head. “Somehow, I don’t think it’s the guns that had you flipping off the sandman last night. Hard enough trying to make it work with one person. Can’t imagine with two. And two bikers? Shit, girl, you don’t do things the easy way, do you?”
Her jaw dropped as she blinked at him. “Wha—how?”
He winked. “I’m that good, baby. I’m that good.”
As she was about to put him in his place, the bell over the door rang and in walked Viper.
“Hey, V!” Thunder said as he got up to greet his former vice president. “How’s Cassie?”
“She’s well.” Viper practically beamed. “Really well.”
“Fuck, that’s good to hear. Give her my love, okay?” That was Thunder. Charming as fuck, and truly a nice guy.
“I got those tools loaded in the back of your truck.” Viper said as he opened his arms to Jazz. “Copper will grab them from you at the clubhouse.”
“Got it, man.”
Jazz scurried around the counter into Viper’s wide embrace.
“Hey, kiddo,” he said into the top of her head. “You smell like cinnamon.”
She laughed. “No surprise there. I think it’s permanently embedded into my skin.” She drew back looking at the smile on his face. A smile that had been absent since his wife was diagnosed with cancer, but seemed to be back now that the prognosis was extremely positive. “Thunder, let me grab your food from the walk-in.”
“You guys hang there. I’ll grab it,” Thunder said as he jogged into the kitchen. He’d been guarding her so much lately she and Toni gave him free rein of the place.
“So, how are you holding up after yesterday?” Viper asked, as he gave her a very stern, fatherly stare.
How the hell did he know? First Thunder, now Viper? Was everyone aware of what happened between her and her men—oh, wait…
“I’m doing all right. The guys got rid of the guns,” she said with a shudder, “I’m just hoping I can go back home soon.”
Viper nodded. “Yeah, we just gotta make sure the CDMC isn’t going to retal—”
A high-pitched sound of shattering glass had Jazz jumping and Viper shoving her behind him.
“What happened?” she yelled, heart rate triple what it’d been five seconds ago. Peeking over Viper’s shoulder, she saw the obliterated front window of the diner and thousands of glass shards scattered across the tables and floor. A brick lay among the glass in the middle of the floor. “Holy shit!”
“What the fuck was that?” Thunder came flying from the kitchen only to skid to an abrupt stop as something else flew through the window. “Fuck!” he screamed. “Grenade.”
Jazz’s breathing completely ceased, and her body froze in place. Did he say grenade?
So much happened in the next few seconds, Jazz knew it’d be days before she sorted it all in her mind.
“Get down!” Viper screamed, shoving her to the ground as Thunder shouted. “I see him! It’s that fucker, Jeremy. I can fucking catch him.”
She hit the unforgiving linoleum floor with a bone-rattling crash.
“Go get him!” Viper called. “I got Jazz.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Thunder’s form streaked through the dining room. He leapt onto a booth bench then hurdled through the fragmented window.
At the same time, Viper rushed toward the grenade instead of away. In a split second, Jazz came to the sickening realization he was going to try to toss it back out the window before it blew to save the diner.
Who cared about the fucking diner? He’d never make it in time.
“Viper, no!” she screamed, launching off the ground as she fisted handfuls of his shirt and yanked with every ounce of strength she possessed.
The scene played out in slow motion even though in reality, it happened over mere seconds. The noise came first, a deafening boom that made her ears instantly ring with a shrill hum. Then a blinding flash blurred the entire diner. The next thing she knew, she was crashing to the ground again, this time with Viper’s body shielding hers.
Tables and chairs hurtled across the dining room as ragged shards of glass, plaster, and wood exploded through the air. Viper curled around her protectively, only clinging tighter as she tried to escape.
No, no, no. He can’t do this!
He couldn’t protect her at his own expense. Beneath him, she began to shake with startling force. Tears careened down her face. Viper grunted more than once as flying debris pelted his body. But it was when he went limp, his full weight slumping onto her that she lost it.
“Viper!” she screamed.
He didn’t answer. Didn’t flinch. Just lay on top
of her completely slack and lifeless.
The sound of hissing water hit her ears seconds before they were doused in wetness as the sprinkler system came to life. Smoke filled the air and small fires burned in multiple spots around the diner. Grimy water rained down as it mixed with the smoke and settling fragments.
“Viper!” she yelled again, using all her strength to shove his shoulders down her body and wriggle out from beneath him. Her head ached, and blood ran down her face, but she ignored her own needs. After struggling free, she rose to her knees beside his prone shape. “Oh, God, Viper!” Blood poured from a giant horizontal wound across the back of his head and a triangular wedge of metal stuck out from the center of his back.
“No!” she shouted. “Viper, wake up!” As gently as possible, she nudged him even knowing deep in her heart he wouldn’t respond.
He’d saved her life. And died for it.
Pain crushed her chest with so much force she grew dizzy.
“Wake up!” she screamed again and again, until her voice became ragged and her throat raw. “Why the hell did you do that!” She bent over his still body, trembling and moaning in despair.
All of a sudden, strong hands scooped under her arms, dragging her away from Viper. “Oh, thank you!” she said, shivering. The wetness combined with the frigid air flowing into the wrecked restaurant chilled her to the bone. “He needs help. Help him please. Wait!”
The person hauled her backward, away from the disaster of the diner.
“No! I’m fine. Help him! Call nine-one-one. Please! Help him!” Her hoarse shouts were completely ignored as the person tugged her out the shattered front door. Sharp shards cut into her calves as she was heaved across the glass-ridden floor. She refused to take her attention off Viper, staring at him for any signs of life.