by B. B. Hamel
It was complete chaos, screams and shouts, fighting and blood. I watch Clutch toss a man through the air, sending him crashing into the bar, bottles flying everywhere. Two men jumped on Clutch, but with a roar of anger, he sent the men spinning, kicking skulls and smashing their faces.
I was both terrified and absolutely elated. The Demons were holding their own, despite being outnumbered. I knew I could get out of there, knew that I was in a lot of danger, but I couldn’t move.
And then an explosion ripped through the clubhouse.
At least I thought it was an explosion. The sound was powerful and incredibly loud. I cringed down, putting my hands over my ears as I looked around for the source.
It was my dad. Larkin was standing on a table with a shotgun. He fired it again, and every man in the room stopped fighting, staring up at him.
Larkin leveled the gun at the crowd.
“Having fucking fun?” he yelled.
Nobody answered.
“While you cunts are busy beating each other to fucking death, you’re ruining my fucking bar. That pisses me the fuck off, so here’s what we’re doing.”
He hopped off the table, gun still pointed.
“Rebels, get the fuck out. If you hesitate, I will murder you.” He cocked the shotgun. “Move.”
The Rebels grumbled but slowly filed out the door. I watched with astonishment as the men slowly left, Larkin holding his shotgun steady, a mad look in his eyes.
Once the Rebels were gone, Larkin turned to the Demons. Clutch was bleeding and the others looked beaten up, but nobody was down or seriously injured.
“Clutch,” Larkin said, “take Janine home and fucking deal with that wound. As for the rest of you, clean up this fucking mess and prepare to eat some goddamn shit, because I am fucking unhappy about this.” He turned and left.
I ran over to the bar, grabbed a clean rag, and then ran over to Clutch. I pressed it to his head, mopping up the blood. “Clutch,” I said, “are you okay?”
“Fine,” he grunted. “Just fucking fine. Better than those Rebel twats.”
“Come on,” I said, leading him toward the door. “Let’s go.”
“Hey, Clutch,” Noble called out as we were leaving. “Good shit man.”
Clutch grinned and gave him a thumbs up. Ford laughed.
“Whipped those pussy asses,” Ford said.
“Fuck yeah,” TomTom said, holding his club against his shoulder.
The boys all laughed triumphantly, and I couldn’t help but smile.
I followed Clutch back out. He held the rag against his head as he climbed onto the bike and kicked it to life.
He just nodded his head and I got on the back.
“Good job back there,” I said into his ear.
He turned back and grinned at me before pulling out into traffic.
28
Clutch
My head hurt like a fucking bitch.
That piece of shit Rebel nailed me with that bottle out of nowhere. Nothing I could have done about it. But that fight, that had been brewing for a while. We all felt it coming, knew we couldn’t avoid it. I was sure Larkin had let it go for a bit before breaking it up. He wanted us to work that shit out, beat each other senseless and get it out of our systems, but he didn’t want us to fucking murder each other.
Though at the time, I wanted to murder someone. I wanted to smash their skulls into tiny pieces and wipe my feet in their blood. Probably for the best that I didn’t actually kill anyone.
I kicked my feet up on the couch, leaning back. Janine came back from the kitchen with a cold compress and a fresh bandage.
“Look at you,” I said, smirking, “nursing me to health.”
“That’s a nasty cut. You might need stitches.”
“It’s fine.” I cringed as she pulled the bandage off and replaced it with the clean one.
“Here,” she said. I took the compress and placed it against the wound. “How’s that?”
“Fine,” I said. “Nice of you to worry.”
“Can’t have you dying on my couch.”
“I’m sure you’re more worried about the couch than you are about me.”
“Maybe,” she said, stroking the cushion. “It’s a nice couch.”
“Can’t blame you,” I said. “I’ve slept on this couch a lot. We’ve grown close.”
“Good. So don’t bleed on it.”
“Doing my best. Can’t control my blood.”
“Maybe you could have, you know, not picked a fight?”
I laughed at her. “That’s not in my nature.”
“Yeah. I know all about your nature.”
“And what’s that then?”
“You’re crude,” she said, standing. “You’re a biker. All you want to do is fight and fuck.”
“You don’t seem to mind the fucking much.”
She blushed and looked away. “Still, you didn’t need to do that.”
“I did,” I said. “I can’t have those people thinking I killed that Lavoy shithead. Plus, that fight had been a long time coming. It needed to happen.”
She shook her head. “That’s such a classic male thing to say. You needed to fight each other?”
“Sure.”
“Typical. Can’t think with your brains or your dicks, so you just beat the crap out of each other.”
“Pretty much.” I grinned at her. “Don’t pretend like your panties weren’t soaked watching me take down those cocksuckers.”
“Not even a little.”
“Please, you’re probably on your way to your bedroom right now to rub that little clit until you come. You’ll be thinking all about how strong I am.”
“Yeah, you look real strong,” she said, smiling, “lying there with a bandage on your head.”
“Still could throw you around like you’re nothing. Want to see?”
“Maybe another time.” She sat down on a chair and sighed, stretching. “What a weird day.”
She got quiet, and I stared at her. I wanted to say something, but I was worried about how she’d react. Still, she had a right to know, or at least she needed to be thinking about it.
“Listen, Janine,” I said. “You watched that shit, right?”
“No. I ignored that big brawl in front of me.”
“You’ve seen the way our clubs act around each other. The Rebels and the Demons, we’re oil and water. We don’t mix.”
“Maybe, but that’s what my marriage is supposed to fix.”
I shook my head. “Girl, that shit ain’t happening. And if it is, it’s not going to help.”
She didn’t answer at first. Then, finally, “Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s the damn truth and you need to start thinking about it. The Rebels hate us, and we hate them. You marrying Jetter won’t solve that.”
“They respect him. They’ll come around.”
“They won’t.” I sat up. “Listen to me, Janine. You have to help yourself here.”
“No,” she said, that fiery temper flashing. “You listen to me. I’m not wasting my time on this.” She stood up.
“You could be, and you don’t even know it.”
“I’m not. It’s going to happen and the clubs are coming together. Larkin wants it, Jetter wants it, and I’m helping it happen.”
“They don’t always get it right,” I said.
“They did this time.”
I could see the anger in her, hear it in her voice. I wasn’t trying to piss the girl off, but she needed to be prepared for all this shit to fall apart.
“Sit back down,” I said. “We can talk.”
“Forget it. I’m not interested in hearing it. I’m marrying that creepy asshole and making sure the Rebels get patched over, and that’s the fucking end of it.”
Before I could answer, she stormed out of the room. I heard her bedroom door slam shut.
The girl was a fucking spitfire, I knew that much, but I hadn’t guessed how pissed off that would make her. I
wasn’t trying to push her too far, but I wanted her to realize that this might all come apart.
Still, I understood where she was coming from. She’d come far and seen a few things, shit she probably never wanted to see, death and violence. She probably felt like if it fell apart now, then she just wasted all her time on this, saw a bunch of shit that fucked her up for no good reason.
Maybe she was blind to the good that already came of all this blood and terror. I wasn’t sure I could make her see it, even if I wanted to.
I leaned back farther into the couch. My head was ringing with pain, and I didn’t have the energy to chase the girl down and make her see reason. I had to get my strength back anyway, in case someone tried some more shit.
I let her stew back in her bedroom. At least I had the couch, the wonderful couch that would never storm out on me.
29
Janine
I didn’t know why I’d reacted so strongly to what Clutch said out in the living room, but I was angry with him anyway.
I sprawled out on my bed, legs half covered with a thin sheet, and stewed. What right did he have to tell me that I was making a mistake? Even though he didn’t really say that, I could tell that was what he was thinking. I knew he had my best interests at heart, but it was still tough to hear someone I cared about tell me that my big sacrifice and important plan may not even happen or amount to anything.
I’d already put so much of myself into this. I’d seen and done things I’d never wanted to do, all for the good of the club. It pissed me off that Clutch could be so cavalier and act like all of that was for absolutely nothing.
I sighed and took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Truth was, I knew I was getting mad because I was having those same thoughts. It wasn’t like he was telling me something new, something I hadn’t realized already.
But it was hard to hear. I didn’t want to be Jetter’s wife, but I also wanted to do something to help this war.
As I lay there, my phone started ringing. I reached over and picked it up, answering it on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Janine.” It was Larkin.
“Hi, Dad. What’s up?”
“We have to talk.” He sounded pained, like he didn’t want to be having this conversation.
“Okay.” I sat up, worried.
“I heard you met with Jetter this morning.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it first. I figured it would just be easier for everyone if I went.”
He sighed. “It’s fine. Jetter seems very taken with you, though. I can’t tell if he’s lying or not.”
“I have no idea,” I said honestly. “He told me a story, something about you actually.”
There was a pause. “What did he say?”
“There was a girl named Jolene. He said he was dating her, but then she left him for you. One night you brought her on a drug deal and she got shot. Jetter left the Demons because of that.”
Larkin laughed. “That’s true.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but he told it backward. Jolene left me for Jetter, and that fucking bastard was the one who got her killed.”
I blinked, surprised by that. “Why would he tell it to me a different way?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but you have to be careful when you’re around him. I told you Jetter is a crafty son of a bitch.”
I had no clue what the story was meant to prove. He had to have known that I was going to ask Larkin about it sooner or later, and as soon as I did, I’d find out the truth. Of course I believed Larkin over Jetter. I trusted my own adopted father over some stranger who betrayed the club a long time ago.
Whatever half-decent feelings I had for Jetter instantly vanished. He hadn’t been such a bad guy earlier in the morning, but now I realized that the whole thing had been an act. Jetter was still playing games, trying to get into my head, and probably trying to get into Larkin’s head as well.
“That bastard,” I said. “He’s just messing with us, isn’t he?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know where any of this is going. But he stopped by not too long ago, and we had a talk.”
I felt a hollow pit in my stomach. “Just tell me.”
“He wants to move the wedding up. Two days from now.”
I took a short breath and slowly let it out. He wanted to move the wedding up. It was still happening.
I didn’t feel relieved.
“Okay,” I said. “Whatever you need. Better sooner than later I guess.”
“You don’t—”
“I do,” I said, interrupting him, “so stop saying it.”
“Okay then. Two days and you’ll be married.”
“Okay.”
“Stop by the clubhouse after work later,” he said. “We’ll talk more about it.” He paused. “It’s almost over. I promise. All of this is almost done.”
“Okay. See you later.”
He hung up.
I stared at the phone, worry running through me. In two days, I was really going to marry this guy, some stranger I barely knew. Some stranger I didn’t like at all.
When the man I really wanted was sitting out on my couch, nursing a head wound.
I sighed, standing up. I had to get to work pretty soon to do a late shift. Hopefully Clutch was going to feel up for it, but I didn’t blame him if he sent a pledge to watch me instead.
I walked out of the room and went into the bathroom, starting the shower.
I was just not going to think about it. Jetter would be my husband soon and that was that. No need to linger on it, or wonder what else could have happened in my life. I was claimed and it was happening, whether I really wanted someone else or not.
I undressed and let the hot spray of water run down my skin, doing my best not to think about the man in the other room.
Clutch said he was fine to take me to work, but he definitely didn’t look fine. I wasn’t in the mood to argue though, so he slapped a few bandages on the cut and we headed out. At least he wasn’t actively bleeding anymore.
Work crawled along like usual, especially considering it was a late shift. I hated doing the dinner rush and then getting some of the drunk idiots that came in late. I got off at one in the morning, and poor Clutch was stuck sitting in a booth for eight hours doing absolutely nothing.
Not that he complained. He ate dinner, and then he ate a second dinner a few hours later. I tried not to stare at him too much or spend too much time at his table, but it was hard. The anger had long since faded, and that anger was replaced with this gnawing need.
Not to mention guilt. I hadn’t told him about the wedding getting moved up yet, because I was afraid of how he’d react.
I didn’t want to hurt him. Actually, I didn’t know if I could hurt him. Sure, we were fucking, and he said things that made me think it was more than just that, but I didn’t really know what he wanted. Maybe he was just using me for sex for a while, until I was finally married and not in his charge anymore.
Maybe I was overthinking this by a mile.
But I couldn’t help it. Clutch didn’t exactly make any of this easy for me. He was a hard man and impossible to read, and I had no clue what he wanted.
And forget about what I wanted. Was he just a hard cock that made me feel good? I’d thought that at first, but the more I was around him, the more I realized it was much more than sex between us. We had something in common, were kindred spirits in a way.
It was all so messed up. As my shift wore on and the night got longer and later, I resolved to tell him. I was going to tell him as soon as it was over.
The clock hit midnight. I took a few orders, waited on a few tables, and suddenly it was one in the morning.
My feet ached as I gathered my stuff up. Clutch was absently playing with a stack of saltshakers as I walked over to him.
“You all done?” he asked without looking up.
“Yeah, all done.” I sat down in the booth across from him
. “But hold on. I want to talk before we go.”
“Talk away, princess.”
I took a deep breath. “Larkin called me before we left my apartment earlier. They’re moving the wedding up. It’s two days from now.”
His face didn’t react. “Okay,” he said.
I was a little taken aback. I had expected a bunch of different reactions from him, but ambivalence wasn’t one of them.
“Um, okay, yeah. Just thought you should know.”
“Thanks, princess.” He slid out of the booth. “Where to now?”
I stood up, confused and a little hurt. “Back to the clubhouse,” I said. “I need to talk with Larkin.”
“Got it.” He headed out to the parking lot.
I followed him slowly, not sure what that was all about. I didn’t need him to break down and beg me not to marry him or something crazy like that, and besides, Clutch wasn’t that kind of man. But I thought he might be surprised or angry at least. Instead, I got nothing.
Maybe it was better this way. Maybe it was for the best if Clutch didn’t care either way. I followed him out into the deserted parking lot, and we made our way over toward his bike.
I suddenly got a strange feeling. There was a large black van parked two spaces over from Clutch’s bike. The lot was empty otherwise, and the streetlight seemed to be out.
“Clutch,” I said.
Two men burst out from the van suddenly, coming at Clutch.
I couldn’t believe how fast he reacted. The first man came at him with a knife, and he quickly dropped backward as the second man went around them both, heading right for me.
Clutch stepped around the knife attacker and tackled the man heading toward me. I heard a struggle and saw Clutch covered in blood. I dropped back, ready to run, but I couldn’t leave him there. The two men rolled again and someone grunted. Clutch rolled away from the man, and I saw a knife sticking out of the man’s chest.