Viking (Black Shamrocks MC: First Generation Book 2)

Home > Other > Viking (Black Shamrocks MC: First Generation Book 2) > Page 3
Viking (Black Shamrocks MC: First Generation Book 2) Page 3

by Kylie Hillman


  “Congratulations,” she purrs against my mouth seconds before her lips meet mine. I’m barely paying attention to her. I search for Alanah over her shoulder, just glimpsing her as she walks away from us without a backward glance. “Let’s celebrate.”

  The music has been turned back up and the spirits in the room are lifting. Bonnie tries to drag me behind her to the dance floor, but I pull my hand from hers.

  “Nah, I’ve got to do this first.” Holding the leather patches in the air, I buy myself some time to sort out my shit. “Be five minutes, tops.”

  Bonnie begins to roll her eyes at me, which I expected since she doesn’t really understand the inner workings of the Black Shamrocks yet, then she stops. A strange look flits across her face which stops her mocking dead in its tracks. She steps back into my space and places a soft kiss on my cheek.

  “You’re a good man, Vic.”

  I spend a second watching Bonnie walk across the bar to Shari and Colleen. That was the strangest interaction I’ve ever had with her—and that’s saying something since the first time I fucked her, she was bent over my Harley in the carpark of her High School.

  In broad fucking daylight.

  Bonnie doesn’t do soft kisses on the cheek.

  And, she sure as fuck, doesn’t tell anyone that they’re a good man.

  “What was that all about?” Brian asks me the moment I approach the rest of them.

  “Fuck knows.” I shake my head. “Just Bonnie being Bonnie.”

  Wrong answer. Brian grabs the front of my shirt and hauls me toward him. “Not Bonnie, fuck face. Alanah. Who. The. Fuck. Said. You. Could. Kiss. Her?”

  “Come on,” Cole protests before I can. “It was nothing.”

  He pushes his big body between me and Brian with ease. He’s a protector, through and through. Proving that his dad named him correctly, unlike mine.

  How the fuck did I end up dubbed ‘Viking’?

  “Yeah?” Brian tries to push around Colin. His previous drugged out state has been replaced by misdirected anger. “Didn’t look like nothin’ to me.”

  I step out of his way, holding my hands in the air. “Man, I swear to you. I was just saying thank you to her for making me laugh.”

  He pauses, seeming to ponder my explanation. Something clicks in his head and he steps around Colin. Our giant friend regards him with suspicion but lets him pass.

  “Dude,” Brian puts his arms around me and slaps me on the back with one hand. “I shoulda realised you were upset about your dad.”

  I revise my previous assessment of how high he still is. There’s no way he’d be hugging me if he wasn’t off his head more than I’d first assumed. Brian usually shies away from any physical contact that doesn’t involve fighting or fucking.

  “He’s a dick, but it’s not like it’s the first time.” I tried to move away from him.

  Brian refuses to let go. I try to pull away again. He steps back far enough that he can stare me in the eyes. His pupils aren’t as dilated as they were earlier, although they’re still bigger than they should be. But that’s not what catches my attention and stops me from trying to get out of his grasp.

  It’s the deadly intent that I read in his gaze that halts me.

  “I’ll let you get away with it this one time. Touch Alanah again and I’ll kill you,” Brian states, with bare honesty. He sweeps a hand through the air, gesturing to the room we’re in. “She’s destined for more than this. She fucking deserves more than this and I’m not letting you, or anyone like you, stop her from reaching her potential.”

  Rage charges through me. It pounds like waves in rough surf, back and forth, rising and fall, all in an instant. Rushing to the fore as I realise that he’s basically called me trash, then receding a moment later when it hits me that Brian’s right.

  I’m not from good stock.

  And he, better than anyone, knows it.

  Doesn’t mean he gets a free pass for saying it to my face.

  “Fuck you,” I enunciate with precision. “And fuck anyone else who thinks I’m unworthy. I’m not interested in Alanah like that, but if I was, no one would get in my way. I’m not my father and I refuse to dance in his shadow for the rest of my life. I will be better than him. I am more than capable of making a run for VP, or even President if I choose.”

  Shari and Bonnie come into view. They both seem happy, giggling and dancing about, all that shit girls do when they want to be centre of attention. Brian sees them when I do and steps out of my space. He inclines his head once—it’s both acknowledgement and a threat.

  “Yeah?” he asks in a mocking tone. My arms feel heavy with the need to wipe the sneer off his face. “We’ll see about that, Viking.”

  Fucking prick. I’m growing to hate my road name already. It means nothing, unlike everyone else’s road name, and will be a constant reminder of yet another let down by my dad.

  As if I needed another one.

  “I need a drink,” Brian tells Shari when she’s in earshot. He intercepts her before the girls reach us and points her in the direction of the bar. I put the final touches on my new rockers and slip my cut back on. My disappointment in my road name aside, tonight has been pretty good. I’ve always loved the Shamrocks so officially being a member feels like finding a real home.

  “Hey, hot stuff,” Bonnie slurs her words a little when she greets me. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she lays her head on my shoulder and sways against me. “I really like you, Vic.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stands on end and a shiver runs the length of my spine. I shake it off and place my hands on Bonnie’s hips. We move together for a minute, but the sensation that I’m being watched continues to grow.

  Turning Bonnie until she’s standing where I was previously, I search through the gyrating bodies for a sign that someone is staring at me. It takes a moment, but I realise who it was.

  Alanah ducks her blonde head out of view seconds after I meet her eyes. I try to ignore the tightening in my gut at her reaction. The heavy, warm weight that our fleeting exchange creates isn’t right. She’s fourteen. I’m nineteen. Brian would kill me. Hell, the entire Club would want my head. Plus I’m not interested in anything serious…

  “Fuck,” I say out loud when I catch where my thoughts were headed. “Get a grip, Vic.”

  “Huh?” Bonnie lifts her head.

  “Nothin’.”

  Swallowing hard, I look back in Alanah’s direction. She’s gone. And that discovery upsets me more than it should.

  A small commotion breaks out, and I half expect Brian to come barrelling at me from out of the crowd for having those thoughts about his little sister. Instead I find Cole standing on the middle pool table. He looks like he’s dancing, but I know him well enough to know that he’s just trying to find his drunken feet.

  Once he’s as upright as he’s going to manage, he swipes a pool cue from the hands of one of the players he’s interrupted and bangs the end on the felt. It makes a muted thud—not exactly the effect he desired. Not that it matters, his clumsy antics have ensured that he’s already the centre of attention.

  I know what’s about to happen. I check through the crowd for Colleen. She’s over near the bar with Brian and Shari, the three of whom are staring at Cole with their mouths open.

  “Kin I have everydun’s attenshun, plea,” Cole tries to yell. It comes out sounding like his words have been caught in a washing machine on heavy spin cycle.

  Cole bangs the pool cue again.

  “Attenshun,” he yells. He drops his beer bottle and then the pool cue before he waves his arms around. “I got somethin’ to say. Where’s Colleen?”

  Out of the corner of my vision, I see Paddy stalking Colleen from behind. He’s in on Cole’s plan and the huge, arsehole grin on his face tells me he’s going to take advantage of it. Brian also knows what’s going on. He nudges Colleen toward Cole so that Paddy won’t need to intervene.

  “Where’s Colleen?” Cole asks again.
<
br />   I extricate myself from Bonnie, who simply huffs her distaste at what’s about to happen and try to head off Paddy before he gets his hands on Colleen. I’m too late. When Colleen tries to duck down behind the crowd, Paddy swoops in and lifts her in the air.

  Colleen squeals. She clutches at his head with desperate hands while Paddy weaves his way unsteadily to the pool table.

  “Shit,” Bonnie whispers as she comes up behind me. “She’s pregnant. Don’t let that dickhead drop her.”

  The words have barely sunk in before I’m at their side. I follow behind with my arms out wide, ready to catch Colleen should Paddy stumble. Thank fuck, he makes it to the table without any mishaps and deposits her in front of Cole. I stay by the table until I’m happy that she’s steady on her feet.

  Bonnie comes back to me. She stands in front of me and pulls my arms around her. Brian and Shari push through the crowd to stand on my left side, and when Colleen looks to us for help, we all grin wide and pretend like we can’t see her silent plea for help.

  “Did you know?” I ask Brian.

  He nudges me in the side with a brotherly type of affection. “Not until Shari started freaking out when Paddy picked her up.”

  I turn my head enough to make eye contact and arch my right eyebrow. Brian nudges me again. Apparently, all is forgiven. I push away the tendrils of guilt that try to lasso me when Alanah comes into view. She stops near her brother without acknowledging me, smiling when he moves Shari in front of him, so he can pull her into his side.

  I pretend that my heart isn’t racing at one-hundred miles an hour in my chest and hold Bonnie close while Cole makes an idiot of himself and Colleen drops the bombshell to end all bombshells.

  Realistically, I should be dancing with joy.

  In the scheme of things, my life is golden.

  Cole is going to be a father before his twentieth birthday.

  My silly attraction to Brian’s sister is nothing.

  FOUR

  Bonnie

  Colleen says yes. Just like I knew she would. Then Cole almost has an aneurysm when she quietly tells him that she’s pregnant. The rest of the crowd seems to think that he’s exuberant reaction is because she agreed to be his wife, but those of us who are in the know understand what their tight embrace means.

  If my heart wasn’t slightly jaded toward love already, it might have cracked open a little at the sight of the two of them, scared but ecstatic all at the same time. They’re happy, clinging to each other like they believe deep in their marrow that the other person won’t ever let them down, despite the trying circumstances they find themselves trapped in now…or any time in the future.

  I guess, their situation should put into perspective my own disappointment. Sure, I didn’t make it into Centre de Danse du Marais in Paris for this year, but I know that I have a spot next year plus I have the opportunity to step up should any of the new dancers this year injure themselves or find that they can’t hack the pace. My problems are nothing. At least, I’m not pregnant and engaged before my eighteenth birthday like Colleen or dealing with a busted knee like Shari. They’re stuck forever while I’m only temporarily grounded by circumstances.

  I should be looking at this next year as an unexpected bonus. I get to hone my skills even further in a company that I familiar with while I hang with my friends and family for an additional twelve guilt-free months. I’m not trapped like everyone else.

  I’m simply here for longer than expected.

  “Wanna get out of here?” Vic asks.

  He’s been acting a bit strange tonight. All jumpy and panicky, like he’s keeping a secret. For a few minutes, I was worried he was going to pull out a ring as well. Thank God, he did.

  Looking around the still packed Clubhouse, I shrug. “If you’re sure. I thought you’d want to stay in the middle of this. This party is for you, after all.”

  “Nah, I’ve had my fill.” Vic grabs my hand and starts tugging me toward the door. He’s not normally this handsy and it has alarm bells ringing in my head. Normally, he’d be one of the last to leave a Shamrocks gettogether, not rushing for the door like his arse is on fire.

  I dig in my heels, leaning back until he stops. When he spins around to face me, I lay my hands on my hips and glare at him.

  “What?” he says. The defiant tone he addresses me with is at odds with the guilt that flits over his face.

  “The fuck?” I finish his sentence. “You’re a freaking space cadet tonight. If you’ve taken any of Brian’s shit, I’m bailing.”

  Turning my back to him, I push through the crowd in search of Shari and Brian. Vic isn’t usually a drug taker. He likes to have a few beers and that’s it. If he’s going to start acting like those two, I’m out. Coke is a poison and I have little respect for anyone who willingly pollutes their body with substances like that. And, I’m going to find Brian and Shari, so I can give them a piece of my mind about dragging my boyfriend into their crap.

  “Bonnie.” Vic grabs me by the waist and pulls me to a stop. I turn to face him, ready to slap him if need be. “Where are you going?”

  “To kick Brian’s arse,” I reply.

  Vic’s eyes widen. Realisation dawns and he hugs me. “Jesus, Bonnie. I’m not high. You know I don’t touch that shit.”

  I let out an annoyed huff. “Then why are you acting like a freak? You’re all jumpy and you’ve barely given me any proper attention all night.”

  His body turns to stone. I wait for an explanation. Nothing comes. Just as I begin pulling away from him, he comes back to life. With strong arms, Vic holds me out from him and he glares down at me with a curious expression. Nasty thoughts form in my head and travel to the tip of my tongue.

  Vic silences them when he kisses me.

  When his tongue prods at the seam of my mouth, I part my lips and allow him access. He touches his tongue to mine. I replicate his movements with my own mouth. The passion between us grows until it feels like my mouth is anchored to my clit. Lifting my leg, I try to hook it around his hip in the way he likes. Instead, I’m left looking like a fool, my leg falling from mid-air when Vic steps back from me.

  Before I can protest his arsehole move, he takes me by the hand and tows me in the direction of the exit again. I yank at his grip, but he doesn’t let go this time. When we stop to let some latecomers through the main doors, I turn back to where we came from to see if I can work out what spooked him so hard.

  There’s no one there, except for a bunch of drunken middle-aged bikers showing Alanah and Grace how to play pool. Not one of them pays us any attention and when Vic tugs me behind him, I shrug and head out into the cool night. My curiosity hasn’t been satisfied, I simply can be bothered calling Vic out on his strange behaviour right now.

  The crisp air outside the Clubhouse is a welcome reprieve from the smoky haze inside. I didn’t realise how smoggy the Club was until I could breathe again. Dragging a deep breath of fresh air into my lungs, I tilt my head back and stare up at the stars in the sky. A shooting star travels across the sky and the sight of it upsets me.

  Tonight has been weird for me, a farewell of sorts to my old life. I’m no longer a school girl. I’m an adult who should be doing something with my life. I realise now that my epiphany earlier was a symptom of a larger disconnect I’m feeling in my life. Everyone has something happening, except me. I’m stuck in a holding pattern until next year.

  “Wanna head for the hills?”

  I ignore him until the remnants of the star has completely disappeared. Lowering my head, I meet his wide-eyed gaze with pleading in my eyes. In an instant, a shutter comes down over his face, effectively blocking me from reading his expression.

  “What are we doing, Vic?”

  He blinks slowly. His eyes stay shut for a heartbeat, then he re-opens them. The blankness is gone and in its place is understanding.

  “I don’t know, Bon,” he answers with quiet honesty. “Seems like everyone else has a plan while we’re still hanging on to th
e same old, same old everyday bullshit.”

  Shrugging, I reply. “Is that a bad thing? Maybe they’re the ones who have it wrong and we’re the only two sensible ones?”

  Vic returns my shrug then nudges me into motion. Lost in my own thoughts, I walk next to him toward his Harley. It’s parked in the dark corner of the Shamrocks parking lot as close to the gate as he could get it. Maybe he had an inkling that tonight wasn’t going to go the way he wanted?

  “You know what,” Vic says, handing me his spare helmet. “I think we’re worrying about shit that shouldn’t even be on our radar just yet. I don’t want a kid like Cole. I don’t want to spend my time raising my little sister like Bri. And I sure as fuck don’t wanna lie my life under the weight of expectation that Paddy does. Instead of worrying that they’re leaving us behind, we should be thankful—because fuck living their lives.”

  His mini-rant makes me laugh. He’s right. Why the hell are we measuring ourselves against something we wouldn’t want in a million years? Lifting my fist, I hold it out to him like I’ve seen the boys do. He gives me a fist bump and starts laughing as well.

  Hitting the button that starts the bike, he cocks his leg over the sexy machine and pats the seat behind him. I climb on, wrap my arms around his waist and hold him tight. It’s taken me a while to get used to riding on a motorcycle. The first few times were scary, but now I love it. The sense of freedom is second to none—although I still make Vic drop me off around the corner from my house because my dad would have a shit fit if I rocked up on the back of a Black Shamrock’s MC members motorcycle.

  Once we’re out of the industrial area that the Clubhouse is located within and the motorway is ahead of us, Vic revs the bike and the engine begins to thump. We hit the on-ramp at speed, my loose hair flowing behind me from under the helmet.

  It’s exhilarating.

  It also proves that Vic nailed it.

  Our life is gloriously uncomplicated.

  Our friends should be envious of us.

  FIVE

 

‹ Prev