by Lilly Atlas
“Seriously, Acer, how much trouble do you think we are?” It was Emily who asked the question.
Of the three women, he was closest to Emily. Surprising, considering how she and Jester met. Emily was sent by an enemy of the club to extract information from a No Prisoner. Acer leaned in to press a chaste kiss against her cheek. “Lots of fuckin’ trouble.”
All four women laughed and he covered his ears. “Thank fuck for this meeting or I just might die.”
“Get out!” Lila shoved him toward the door.
He sent a wink over his shoulder to a wide-eyed Fia and set the alarm before securing the door behind him.
For the first time in as long as he could remember, he had no interest in meeting with his club brothers. Shiv was concerned about his focus, but concentrating would be an extra challenge tonight with half his mind back at the apartment with Fia. While he knew staying with her twenty-four-seven wasn’t realistic, leaving her felt like shit.
This meeting better be damn quick.
Chapter Fifteen
“So,” Fia said to the three women who stared at her like she was a sparkly diamond they couldn’t wait to inspect. If one of them whipped out a loupe, she just might bolt, alarm or no alarm. “I’d ask you to sit or offer you something to drink, but Acer hasn’t even given me a tour yet, so you probably know where things are better than I do.”
The blonde with emerald green eyes and a long blonde ponytail smiled and held out a hand. “I’m Marcie, and this here,” she pointed next to her at the woman with raven hair and unique light blue eyes, “is Emily. She’s the only one who’s been here before. But, girl, we have no problem making ourselves at home. That’s the price Acer pays for leaving us alone in his apartment with his expensive booze.” She headed down the hallway as though she owned the place.
Wow, the woman was a ball of energy.
Lila linked her arm through Fia’s and gently tugged her down the hall after Marcie.
“Hey, you think Acer will care if we crack open another bottle of wine? This stuff looks pricey.” Marcie called from the kitchen.
“I don’t kn—” Fia wrung her hands at her waist.
Behind her, Emily laughed. She seemed the most mellow of the gang. “Are you kidding me? I have a feeling Acer will let Fia do whatever the hell she wants.”
“Well, I’m not—” She rubbed her forehead where a dull ache was forming.
“Yeah, he won’t care at all, Marce. Open it up!” Lila let go of Fia when they reached the kitchen.
Apparently, she wasn’t going to be able to get a word in around these three. And why were they so certain she had Acer wrapped around her finger?
Marcie made herself at home, opening cabinets until she discovered where Acer kept the wine glasses. “Bingo! Three glasses coming up since I see you already have one, Fia.”
The table in the eat-in space was small and round but had enough chairs for the women. Each took a seat while Marcie played hostess and poured the wine.
Fia took a small sip. It was even better than the last bottle, but she hadn’t eaten in a while and didn’t want to get drunk. Having dulled reflexes and not being in full control of her faculties was out of the question these days.
Lila swallowed a sip of the cabernet, closed her eyes, and smiled. “Mmm, Acer is my new favorite person.”
“Amen,” Emily said.
Lila turned her attention to Fia. “Okay, honey. I’m not one to bullshit, so I’m going to get the hard stuff out of the way right now. That way you can enjoy your wine without wondering when it’s going to come up. We’re all so sorry for what happened to you. Each one of us,” she said looking around the table, “has had some variety of trauma in our lives. We won’t push, but any one of us is more than willing to listen if you need an ear or a shoulder to cry on.”
Fia’s eyes flooded and she willed away the tears. She would not become the weepy woman who cried every five minutes. “Thank you,” she whispered. “None of you know me at all, yet you’re all so kind. In my world, that kind of sincerity is rare.” They’d shown her more compassion and caring in five minutes than anyone from her parent’s Texas circle had. It was both a heartwarming feeling and sad commentary on her life.
Lila snorted. “Don’t I know it.”
Huh, she’d have to ask Acer about that later.
“Look, you may not be Acer’s girlfriend, or whatever,” Emily broke in. “But you are the only person we’ve ever met who has a non-club related connection to him. Everyone teases him about his past and makes lots of assumptions, but we don’t actually know much. And we’ve never been introduced to anyone from his past. That makes you part of our inner circle, our family. No matter what you guys end up being to each other.”
They’d be nothing to each other. She could just imagine it. Hey, Acer, I can’t stand to be touched and it may be years before I can have sex, if ever. Wanna go steady? The idea was laughable, but the heartfelt sentiment behind Emily’s words chased away a bit of her loneliness.
“Thank you, guys. I’m excited to get to know all of you.”
“So, Fia, what is it that you do?” Marcie asked before she tipped back her glass and polished off the wine. “Good thing you drove, Em.” She reached for the bottle and refilled her glass.
Emily flushed bright red and turned to Fia. “Yeah, tell us what you do?”
“I’m a fashion designer, but I strictly do lingerie, mostly custom pieces.”
Three sets of wide eyes and three broad grins stared back at her. “Uh, what?”
Marcie broke the silence. “Oh my God, it’s fate.”
What on earth was she talking about?
“So.” Lila’s eyes sparked as she spoke. “A lot of MCs make their ol’ ladies—”
“Their what?” Seriously? Old ladies?
The women laughed. “It’s just the term for a woman in a serious relationship with a club member,” Emily explained.
“Ah, interesting.” She wasn’t sure how she’d feel being called an old anything, but it seemed to roll off these women’s backs.
Lila chuckled and sipped her wine. “Anyway, they make them wear a leather vest, similar to the member’s cut, with a patch that says ‘property of’ whoever it is they are with. It’s archaic, and thank God, the No Prisoners don’t have that little tradition. That being said, there’s just enough caveman in each of our guys that we know they would love it if we wore one, at least in private if you get my drift.”
Emily chimed in, more animated than she’d been until now. “For months, we’ve been saying that it would be so much fun to design No Prisoners lingerie that said Property of Jester, in my case, across the backside. Holy shit, my man would go crazy if he saw that.”
“And it would have to be leather, of course. With Take No and Prisoners on the bra cups. Good, huh?”
Fia burst out laughing. She knew just enough about these men to know the girls were right. They’d go insane. “I’m in, so in. If you girls are serious, I can get measurements from you now and show you some different design options. I’ve cut back on much of my work since…” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I’d love something to keep me busy while I’m here, so I don’t go stir-crazy, or worse, Acer-crazy.”
“I can’t believe this is happening, I’m so excited!” Marcie practically bounced in her chair.
“Oh, we’re serious.” Lila’s grin was wide and excited, like Marcie’s.
The women’s enthusiasm was contagious, and Fia found herself eager to focus her attention on a work project. She hadn’t touched anything business related in the past two weeks. It felt good to have something productive to focus her energy on.
Only Emily looked slightly uncertain. The reaction was surprising given her friend’s elation. Fia was just about to tell her there was no pressure when she chimed in. “Okay, I’m game too.” But she didn’t look quite as pumped as the other two.
“I’ll be right back.” Fia dashed to the front door where her suitcase still sat and p
ulled out her laptop, sketchbook, and a binder of sample materials. She’d thrown them on top of her clothes as a last-minute thought; work had to begin again sometime.
When she returned, the wine glasses were topped off and the ladies were ready to begin.
After much laughter and friendly arguing over design ideas, Fia glanced up at the clock. She blinked her heavy eyelids in case she’d read the numbers wrong. Had two and a half hours really flown by that fast? Her first thought was that she’d spent an entire two and a half hours without thinking of Mike once. Progress.
The second thought was what the hell was keeping Acer?
Chapter Sixteen
Acer coasted to a halt and dropped his feet to the ground, raising his middle finger to the camera over the traffic light. Every damn time he rode through town, this blasted light snagged him, like it had some kind of sensor and turned red when it saw him coming.
A few times, he’d been tempted to hack into the department of transportation’s server and have a little fun, but there was a good chance he’d cause an accident or two so he never gave into the urge.
He wanted this meeting over as fast as possible. Fia didn’t know where anything was in his place. Hell, he hadn’t even shown her where she could sleep.
In his guest room.
Not his bed.
Thanks to Mike. Mike, who raped her and stole her confidence and comfort with men. Mike, who Acer had all but admitted to Fia he planned to kill. Her reaction to that admission caught him off guard. The trauma was still so acute. In another few months, she’d be disgusted by the thought of him taking another person’s life.
A loud rumble caught his attention and he turned his head left, in time to catch the blur of a motorcycle blow past him on the cross street, going at least seventy through downtown Crystal Rock’s thirty mile-per-hour roads.
What the fuck?
It was hard to tell due to the speed of the bike, but he’d swear the rider wore a No Prisoners’ cut. It didn’t make any sense, though. The clubhouse was in the opposite direction and Acer was running late, so whoever this was should have been there already.
The light blipped green and he started to turn left toward the clubhouse.
“Fuck,” he spat out as he looped around and sped right instead, following the path of the unknown biker. For two weeks, his gut had been unsettled. Something stunk like a week-old diaper, and this just may be his first solid lead. He couldn’t ignore his unease any longer.
He gave the bike more gas and the needle climbed well over seventy. About a mile down the road, he glimpsed the tail end of a bike as it again made a right turn and disappeared out of sight.
The road the mystery biker took was long, winding, and led thirty miles out into the desert, ending just one mile shy of the border in the middle of nothingness. The churn in Acer’s gut increased until it was a gnawing pain. This entire situation was fucked, and he had a sick feeling he knew what he’d encounter.
He eased off the throttle a hair, dropping his speed to about eighty, not wanting to alert his target who was about a mile and a half ahead.
Fifteen minutes later, as he approached the highway, he slowed to a near crawl. Up ahead about a mile, right where the highway dead-ended, three bikers were parked on the side of the road. He was too far to make out the patches on their cuts but knew deep in his gut what it would read.
It became clear as crystal. He needed to get back to alert the club. Now that he had a specific area to focus on, he could revisit the satellite imagery and confirm his suspicions.
Hatred for his father burned like acid, scarring the walls around his heart. This was why Fia shouldn’t be so free with her trust, and this was why he’d hold back with her, no matter how much he wanted to keep her close. No one would hesitate to stab you in the back if it served their purposes, blood and family be damned. At least with his club, the members knew the severe price of betrayal. Fear of the fatal consequences was enough to keep most in line.
His engine roared as he cruised to the clubhouse at top speed. Shiv would be pissed he missed the meeting, but he’d be more pissed when he discovered why.
Twenty minutes later, Acer slowed to a stop in the lot outside the clubhouse. His jaw ached and gray dotted the edges of his vision, the anger in him rivaling that of twenty years ago.
He stomped through the gravel lot, into the clubhouse and straight back to the chapel. Before he wrenched the door open, he blew out a breath. Letting down the club was a sin none of them wanted to commit. And while he knew his brothers wouldn’t hold his father’s actions against him, in his own mind, he was responsible.
Twenty-five sets of eyes trained on him the moment he stepped in the room. Striker stood, his mouth set in a grim line, but Shiv, his club president, was the first to speak. “Where the fuck you been? You got something more important to do than be here for church? Huh, Acer? Like playing house with your lady friend, maybe?”
Acer didn’t bother to take his seat at the table. Angering Shiv further wouldn’t be wise. He shook his head. “I ran into some trouble on the way here.”
A low murmur sounded around the room.
“Shut the fuck up,” Shiv barked. “Grimm Brothers?”
Jester grunted. “Can’t be. They’re too busy killing themselves fighting over Snake’s abandoned throne. No one’s seen or heard from him since he was discharged from the hospital.”
Acer shook his head again. “Not Grimms. Saw a biker on my way here, heading out into the desert, toward the border. Guy had a No Prisoners’ cut. Followed him until he stopped and met with two others. Both had cuts as well, but I was too far to see the patches.”
Shiv slapped his palm against the table to quiet the uproar that ensued. “You think it’s a chapter from another state? Lucky is coming from Vegas, but not for a few days.”
“Definitely wasn’t Lucky, guy was too heavy.”
“So who the hell do you think it was?” Striker asked.
Acer ran a hand across his jaw. He hadn’t bothered to shave that morning since his only plan for the day had been to work on his computer at the clubhouse. Now, after being out in the heat for an hour, the stubble itched like a wool sweater. “I think it’s Reginald Wellington.”
“You think your old man was on a bike in Crystal Rock?” Gumby’s eyes widened.
“Gumby, shut the fuck up and let him finish.” Hook shook his head.
“I obviously haven’t had a chance to investigate it yet, but my theory is that he’s got guys wearing our cuts, or something very similar, smuggling illegals across the border like he planned all along. They get busted and the Feds start sniffing around us.”
“Jesus, you rich pricks have some fucked up families.” Jester’s comment evoked a round of snickers.
Tip of the iceberg.
Shiv jabbed the smoldering end of a cigar into an ashtray, then leaned back in his chair, linking his fingers behind his head. He pierced Acer with a penetrating glare. Shiv could keep his cool in the tensest of situations, but Acer wasn’t so stupid as to believe his president wasn’t simmering on the inside. A man didn’t get to be MC president by losing his cool in every situation, but he sure as hell didn’t rise to the top by being soft either.
“Here’s what we’re gonna do, boys. Acer, I want you to do some computer voodoo and figure this shit out. If you’re right, we gotta cut this off at the balls. I don’t give a shit what your old man does at the border, but I won’t tolerate any blowback on my club. Hook, I’m putting you in charge of getting any weapons off the premises. Store them at the warehouse for now, until we come up with a better idea. ICE paying us a visit is one thing. They call their buddies at ATF we need to make sure they don’t find shit. Get the prospects hauling it today. We good?”
The men grunted their approval.
“All right. Get the fuck out of here. Acer, hang back for a second.”
He waited until the room cleared out, then took a seat at the large rectangular table, opposite Shiv.
“Heard about your girl coming into town.” He lit another cigar and exhaled a cloud of white smoke.
Acer didn’t bother to correct him. If people thought she was his, they’d be more inclined to leave her alone.
“Appreciate the heads up about her family wanting her shit broadcast in the media. You good to handle it?”
“I got it.” He’d be placing a friendly call to her father tonight.
Shiv nodded. “Let me know if you need anything from me. As for her, bring her around anytime.”
Acer tensed. He loved his brothers, but most of them were dogs when it came to women. They’d hit on anything with tits and were aggressive about it. “I’m not sure she’s—”
Shiv waved the hand holding the thick cigar. “I know what happened to her. I warned the boys she’s yours, off limits. She did us a solid with the heads up. She’s welcome here.”
“Thanks.” The club was the closest thing to family, brothers, that he’d allow himself. And while a part of him was always cautious and distrustful, he was confident he had their loyalty as they had his.
He lifted his chin at Shiv and rose from the table. When he was halfway to the door, Shiv called out. “Hey, Acer?”
He turned around.
“Good to have you back, brother.”
When Acer stepped back outside, the glowing sun rested lower in the horizon, taking with it some of the scorching heat. Jester, Striker, and Hook huddled around their bikes laughing at something Jester was saying.
“You good?” Striker asked as he approached the group.
“I’m good.” That was enough. These men knew him well enough to know he’d never vomit his feelings over his family drama. Hell, he had no feelings on the matter. His father was a faithless asshole whose only loyalty was to the green in his wallet. That’s all there was to it.
“We’re gonna head back with you, pick up the girls since it’s getting late. You mind if I leave Em’s car at your place until tomorrow?”