Owen: The Lost Breed MC #9

by Parker, Ali

  It only took us a half hour or so to hit open roads where we could open up on the throttle and really move. We passed cars, wove through traffic, and broke free of congestion that was slowing us down so we could make the most of our afternoon. There was nothing worse than a perfect riding day but having drivers get in the way. All they had to do was move to the right lane, but they were oblivious.

  Liam and I took turns leading. Every fifteen minutes or so, the guy in the rear would speed up to pass, and then he would lead for a while and set the speed. Liam hadn’t been riding as long as me, so I knew I was pushing him pretty hard when I took some corners and checked my mirrors to find him falling behind.

  He was a smart rider though. He didn’t push himself past his skill level, despite his desire to kick my ass, and I admired that about him. Especially since he was only twenty-four. The young guys were usually the ones taking the unnecessary risks, all because of their testosterone. But not Liam. He had common sense and appreciated self-preservation.

  I couldn’t say the same thing about myself when I’d been his age.

  Hell, I couldn’t say the same thing about myself now.

  Liam had been leading for about ten minutes when I followed him into the parking lot of a biker bar off the interstate about two and a half hours out. The parking lot was loose gravel, so we had to slow down a fair bit, and there were a good twenty or so other bikes parked in the lot.

  There were a few Harley’s, some cruisers, some crotch rockets. A little bit of everything.

  I expected it would be a good crowd inside.

  I parked my bike in the same space as Liam’s, and we took our helmets off as we walked across the lot, the gravel crunching under our boots, and took the stairs up onto the porch where a few men were outside smoking. They nodded in greeting, and we nodded back. Judging by their leather vests, I assumed some of the hogs in the lot were theirs.

  When we pushed through the doors, we were greeted with the smell of grease, frying onions, beer, and man smell.

  It was a biker bar, after all.

  Liam struck out ahead and sought out a table with a view of the parking lot through the window so we could keep an eye on our bikes. He and I had too many experiences with drunken assholes hanging around in the parking lot, smoking their cigarettes or weed, and going over to look at our bikes.

  Looking was fine. Touching was not.

  And for some reason, drunken bikers always wanted to touch shit.

  Our waitress was a middle-aged woman with a tough exterior. Her bare arms were covered in tattoos of swirling roses, vines, and quotes in cursive that I couldn’t read. She stopped at our table and looked back and forth between us with one hand on her hip. “What can I get you boys?” Her voice was raspy and deep, a smoker to be sure.

  We ordered whatever ale they had on tap and then asked for a couple more minutes with the menu.

  She nodded. “Take your time. Give me a holler when you need anything. My name is Stacy. Don’t be shy, sugars.”

  When she walked away, Liam arched an eyebrow at me. “Sugars?”

  I shrugged. “I think she was talking to you.”

  He snorted. “Please.”

  “Maybe she likes the young ones.”

  “Piss off.”

  “Do you want a kids’ menu? Crayons?”

  Liam gave me a deadpan stare before flipping open his menu and scanning the options. I did the same, snickering to myself at my own jokes.

  Stacy swung by our table again, and we placed our orders. Within fifteen or so minutes, our beers were half empty, and we had our plates in front of us, a bacon cheeseburger for me and a basket of fish and chips for Liam.

  As we ate, we caught up on our previous week.

  “So how have things been with you, man?” Liam asked as he smothered a piece of cod in tartar sauce. “You and Evangeline still hanging out?”

  “Yeah. We haven’t seen much of each other this week because of her work, but I’m hoping to be able to see her tomorrow night.”

  “How was that fancy thing you went to with her last weekend?”

  “About as terrible as one would expect.”

  Liam laughed. “How so? What happened? Please tell me you didn’t get into a fight with some billionaire.”

  “Do you seriously think so low of me?”

  “No, not at all.” Liam shook his head. “I think so low of the sort of people who were probably there.”

  He wasn’t far off. “I might have exchanged words with one of them who tried to get me to clear off and stay away from Evangeline.”

  Liam froze with a piece of fish on his fork halfway to his mouth and frowned. “What?”

  “Yeah. I don’t recall if I told you, but when I ran into Evangeline the other week, she was actually on a date. With some prick named Matthew Aero. And he—”

  “He sounds like a tool. Matthew Aero?” He wrinkled his nose in disgust.

  “Tell me about it. Anyway. He seems to have it in his head that he’s entitled to her, and he tried to get me to leave, telling me I didn’t deserve a girl as classy as her. Like I didn’t know that already.” I shook my head and laughed.

  “If you make her happy you deserve her, man. Simple as that.”

  “Yeah? Got a lot of experience in the love department, kid?”

  Liam’s brow furrowed. “No. But I’m on your side. And I know you. She’s lucky if you ask me. What are her other options? Douche bags like Matthew Aero?”

  I appreciated his support, even if I thought he was bullshitting me a bit. “Yeah. Well. I told him off, took a couple stabs at him for shits and giggles, and then Evangeline came back to the table and asked me to go get her a drink so she could put him in his place on her own.”

  His eyebrows crept up to his hairline. “Oh. You didn’t tell me she was a badass.”

  “You have no idea, man. She can handle her shit. She’s a boss.”

  “Sounds like it. What happened after that?”

  I shrugged. “She and I left. Well, first she chugged her wine like it was water, and then we left.”

  “And then?”

  I gave him a lopsided grin. “And then we went back to her place, and the rest of it is for my memory. And hers.”

  Liam chuckled and held up his hands. “All right. All right. I’ll lay off. I’m happy for you, man. She sounds like the sort of woman you need in your life. You know? A girl who can keep you out of trouble.”

  He was right.

  Evangeline had a way of handling the riff-raff without using her fists. She also had a way of reminding me to avoid violence without saying a word. With her around, I didn’t want to fight. I didn’t want things to escalate. Because that was when shit got messy, and I would never want to expose her to that side of me.

  Not again.

  “You know. Three weeks ago, had you asked me if I ever wanted a relationship, I would have sworn up and down they weren’t for me.” I lifted my beer to my lips.

  Liam gave me a knowing grin. “And now?”

  “Now it sounds pretty fucking great with a girl like Angel.”

  “Angel?”

  Chapter 20

  Evangeline

  “What do you think?” I asked as I shuffled the notecards of my upcoming speech back into chronological order. I was kneeling in front of my coffee table, frowning.

  Victoria was sitting across from me on the sofa. Her legs were crossed and neatly tucked under herself, and she had her elbows resting on her knees with her fingertips pressed together. She gazed at me intently over the tops of them. “I think it was pretty good.”

  “Pretty good? That’s it?”

  “Well, it’s a bit dry.”

  “Of course it is. It’s a speech about cleaning the oceans. It’s not supposed to be an adventure of highs and lows. It’s informative. And gracious. And just the sort of thing people at these events expect to have to listen to.”

  Victoria frowned and swept her long blonde hair to one side, letting it tumble dow
n her shoulder. “But do they have to listen to that sort of thing? Is there no room for you to mix it up? Surprise them? Keep them on their toes? There’s something to be said about a more non-traditional approach. You’ll stick out in their minds at the very least. Not that you don’t already. Especially with that new dress you’re going to wear.”

  I sighed. This wasn’t helping.

  A lot was riding on this speech. I was going to have to address a room full of my father’s biggest donors, and for some bizarre reason, the more money people had, the tighter they tended to hold on to their wallets. I had to win them over. I had to show them why this was the right cause for them to throw some of their wealth at.

  Ocean health and the condition of the ecosystem was crucial to human survival, not to mention a basic responsibility that we’d been neglecting for far too long. Someone had to do something. And that someone was my father.

  I had to convince them to open their damn wallets and stop being greedy bastards.

  It was easier said than done.

  I stared down at my index cards. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should try something fresh. Do you have any suggestions?”

  Victoria winced. “I’m good at giving constructive criticism. Not solutions.”

  “Typical.” I huffed, putting the cards down on the coffee table and leaning back on my hands.

  She uncrossed her legs and stretched them out to rest her heels on my table. “Can we talk about something else for a bit?”

  I nodded. “Please. My brain feels like it’s about to implode.”

  “Have you seen Owen lately?”

  I shook my head. “No. Not all week. I’ve been so busy with this stupid speech, and I had to go to private meetings with several of my father’s clients here in the city. I’m hoping I get some time to see him tomorrow. And if not tomorrow, early in the week. I miss him.”

  “I bet you do. A whole week without any toe-curling nookie? How horrible.”

  “Victoria!”

  “What?” she asked innocently.

  Blushing, I shook my head at her. “I can live without sex for a week. And for crying out loud, please don’t ever call it ‘nookie’ again?”

  “I like that word.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  “Diva.”

  “You know it,” I said, grinning at her. “Want a glass of water?”

  “Sure,” Victoria said, leaning across the table to grab my index cards. I popped up to my feet and padded into the kitchen to pour us each a glass of sparkling water.

  “Do you want lemon?” I called.

  “No thanks,” Victoria said, somewhat distracted by the cards in her hands. “Hey, what if you opened with a joke?”

  “That doesn’t seem cliché?” I asked as I pulled two glasses down from my cupboard.

  “It depends on the joke.”

  “Any suggestions?”

  “No.”

  I poured us each a glass. “Of course not. Criticism, not solutions. I have to remember that.”

  “You’ll get there,” she teased.

  I was walking through the kitchen to bring our waters into the living room when there was a knock on my door. I set the glasses down on the counter while Victoria continued to study my speech and opened my front door.

  My father was on the other side.

  He gave me a warm smile and pulled me in for a hug. “Hello, darling.”

  “Hi, Daddy,” I said, giving him a good squeeze before stepping back to hold the door open for him. “Come on in. Victoria and I were just going over my speech for the next event.”

  Victoria smiled and waved at my father. “Hi, Mr. Snow.”

  “Please, Victoria. We’re all family here. Call me Frank.”

  Victoria scrunched up her nose. “Yeah. You know. You’ve been asking me to call you that since I was thirteen, and I just can’t get used to it. You’ll always be Mr. Snow to me.”

  “It makes me feel so old,” my father muttered as he popped open the buttons of his gray suit jacket.

  “Would you like a glass of water? Sparkling? I also have wine, soda, whiskey—”

  “I’m all right, sweetheart,” my father said. “I was just hoping to have a moment to speak to you about something… sensitive.”

  Victoria, always one to catch the undertones of any conversation, rolled to her feet, set the index cards down, and clasped her hands together. “That’s my cue to get out of here. Call me later, Eva. Anytime after six. I have a yoga class at five.”

  “Have fun.” I smiled as she collected her purse from the kitchen counter, gave me and my father one last wave, and ducked out the door.

  My father and I stood quietly for a moment, and then I gestured at the sofa. “Should we sit?”

  He shrugged out of his suit jacket and draped it over the back of my sofa before he took a seat. He let out a sigh, which in my experience was a sure sign that the conversation we were about to have wasn’t going to be a fun, light, enjoyable one.

  “Are you sure you don’t want something to drink, Daddy?”

  My father rubbed the side of his head. “No, I’m all right. Come. Sit.” He patted the sofa beside him and waited for me to come join him.

  I made myself comfortable and crossed one leg over the other as I waited for him to start talking. But it seemed as if he wasn’t sure where to start.

  “Is something bothering you?” I asked, hoping to prompt him to spit it out.

  “Yes. Yes, it is. I got a call this morning from Matthew Aero.”

  “Oh.”

  My father studied me. “He said you were quite rude to him last weekend at the gala.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh please. He was asking for it.”

  “He is my business associate.”

  “He’s an ass.”

  “Evangeline,” my father said sternly.

  I ran my hands down my thighs. “I’m sorry that I had to tell off your associate. But he was treating my date poorly and spouting nonsense. I wasn’t going to let him walk all over me or—”

  “I would also like to speak with you about this date.”

  “What about him?”

  My father narrowed his eyes at me, and a pit formed in my stomach.

  He already knew.

  Fucking Matthew had spilled the beans like the kiss ass he was.

  “I don’t want you seeing that man, Evangeline.”

  “Daddy, Owen isn’t what you think he is. He’s good. He’s one hell of a better man than Matthew. I can guarantee that.”

  My father shook his head at me. “Enough. You have your reputation to worry about. And you’re representing me and my campaign. I can’t have you rolling into these events with a guy like Owen McCully on your arm. What will people think?”

  “I don’t care what they think,” I said sharply.

  My father sighed with frustration and pressed his palm to his forehead. He looked older. There were more wrinkles around the corners of his eyes. He also looked terribly tired.

  “There are things in this life that will be infinitely more difficult if you’re with someone like Owen. He’s not good for you. You’re my daughter, and I want what is best for you. Don’t you understand that? I’m trying to protect you.”

  “I don’t need you to protect me.”

  “Apparently, you do because you’re off spending your time with a criminal.”

  “He’s not—”

  “I know exactly who Owen McCully is,” my father said. “He’s a rule breaker. A criminal. A deviant. He needs to stay on his side of the tracks and leave you to yours. You have more important things to do with your life. You must leave him behind. He’s only going to hold you back. And put you at risk.”

  “He would never hurt me,” I said.

  “Maybe not intentionally,” my father said, moving closer to put a hand over mine on my knee. “I trust that he would never hurt you on purpose. I know him well enough to know that. But sometimes, men are powerless to the life we know. He knows h
ow to solve problems one way, Evangeline. And that is through violence. Do you deny it?”

  I bit my bottom lip.

  My father hung his head and patted my hand. “I know you don’t want to hear this. And I know it’s not my place to tell you what to do. But I would not come to you with these concerns unless I absolutely had to. Owen will put you in dangerous positions that Matthew can keep you out of. He’s trouble.”

  None of what my father was saying was a surprise to me.

  I knew Owen was trouble. But he was trouble for other people—bad people. He wasn’t trouble for me.

  For me, he was a safe place to land.

  “You must consider your priorities,” my father continued. “You must look at the bigger picture. Owen has no place there. You two had your fun when you were young. But now you have responsibilities, and I’m sure he does as well. It is time to own up to that and put him in your rearview mirror for good. Please.”

  My throat was tight. My hands were clammy. And I could feel my own pulse fluttering frantically at my throat like a panicked bird trying to escape the confines of its cage.

  “But, Daddy—”

  “I’m not going to speak any more of it. You know what you must do. And I trust you to do it and to do it in a timely manner. You’re a grown woman now, Evangeline. The time for flings with a biker is behind you. It is time to look forward to bigger and better things.”

  Chapter 21

  Owen

  Barry was working the concierge desk when I crossed the lobby of Evangeline’s apartment building on Saturday evening.

  He didn’t see me until I was basically right on top of him, and when he looked up, he sputtered and stammered over his words until his mouth caught up with his brain.

  “Uh. Hi there, Mr.…”

  “McCully,” I said flatly.

  “Right. Apologies. Mr. McCully. How may I help you?”

  I rapped my knuckles on the desk. “I’d like to go up and see Evangeline Snow if you would?”

  Barry narrowed his eyes at me. “Of course, sir. You may proceed to the elevators. Shall I buzz her and let her know to expect you?”