Vipers Rule

by Stephanie Tyler

  She rubbed her hands together. “Tals and I . . . in high school . . .”

  Bear’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

  “No—it’s not what you think. I kind of . . . he got into some trouble with the police because of me. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but by the time I tried to stop it, it was too late.” It sounded so lame, and Bear was watching her intently.

  “I’m thinking,” Bear started slowly, “if Vipers really hated you, you wouldn’t be here.”

  “No?”

  “We don’t let our enemies inside if we don’t have to.” Bear shrugged. “Then again, Preacher always says to keep your enemies close.”

  “If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re failing miserably,” she pointed out. He grinned a little, abashed but unrepentant, which seemed to be a quality of most bad boys. It’s what made them irresistible, she supposed. Because she couldn’t stay mad at him, especially not over his honesty.

  “Try to relax. Not like you can go anywhere anyway.”

  Chapter 10

  Tals returned to the Vipers clubhouse, because he’d never bothered to get another place beyond the familiar bedroom here and his childhood house, which he owned with Tenn.

  But Tenn was a state away, in another house with his own business, nursing his loneliness while taking care of other people. The same way he’d tried to take care of their mom.

  Tals looked around at the men, knowing all of them had a story that, if not paralleled, was similar to his in its fucked-up-ed-ness. Which was why they’d ended up here—kindred spirits, looking for a family who’d never desert them. It was a similar mind-set to the military, which made sense if you knew that MCs were basically formed by men returning from war, looking for like-minded people. Tals knew that history intimately.

  Most MC guys headed to or came to the MCs from the military. At least Vipers guys did. Some of Havoc too—they were a bad bunch of motherfuckers who lived near Tenn in the hills that some said were haunted.

  Havoc and Vipers got along.

  Vipers and Heathens? Never gonna happen. Not when Heathens pushed drugs like candy and got their own women addicted to keep them in line.

  But tonight the Heathens weren’t at the heart of this problem. Tals wasn’t sure if he should be grateful or not, and decided not. Because there was truth in the expression “the devil you know,” and Heathens didn’t have the sophistication or the patience to wire car bombs.

  It’d taken forty-five minutes of painstaking work, and his shoulders ached from the tension. Cage had stayed with him the whole time, as well as Tenn and Ward on the phone.

  “All clear?” Preacher asked.

  “Not even sure how to answer that.” Tals sank heavily into one of the comfortable leather couches that Holly had insisted Preacher buy for the place.

  They’d all bitched and moaned that the clubhouse was just fine as was, that it didn’t need a woman’s touch. They’d fought especially hard to keep the old couches, which were really fucking terrible. Holly had one delivered and they’d fought to spend time on it. Holly had simply smirked, called them dumbasses and ordered several more.

  From there they’d let her do what she wanted, improvements-wise. And Tals had to admit things were better here. She was good at picking simple things that were really luxurious, things none of them had grown up with. Like who knew there were such amazingly soft sheets in existence? Or towels that were all fluff?

  Simple comforts that tonight wouldn’t take his mind off anything. As if he knew, Cage went to hand him a beer, but Tals shook it off. Fuck, he didn’t need his mind clouded now, not any more than it already was.

  Rocco went to the kitchen and came back with a soda. “Dude, you look wasted. Sucks to feel like that when you’re stone-cold sober.”

  “Don’t I know it.” He drank down half, realizing he’d never gotten dinner. Or lunch. What a clusterfuck.

  “Maddie’s locked in your room,” Rally offered, and Tals stared at him. “What? I figured we didn’t want her to leave. She seems like the type to.”

  Tals couldn’t argue with that.

  * * *

  By the time Tals opened the door, she’d already worked herself up twice, talked herself down both times and fought—and won—three fights with him in her head.

  She was in a deceptively nearly Zen state when he walked inside. There were no signs that he’d been in any kind of fight, and except for the fact that his jaw was clenched tight, no real signs of stress were apparent.

  But there was no smile, which meant he wasn’t putting on a happy act for her. And she was pretty sure she appreciated it.

  It required all her patience not to ask questions, but she was rewarded when he spoke.

  “Someone put a bomb in your car,” Tals told her calmly.

  She blinked. Because that wasn’t the kind of reward she’d been hoping for. Her mind reeled as she tried to process it. “What kind of activities are you involved in?”

  He let out a short, humorless laugh. “Me? Honey, that was all about you.”

  “Right. Because the circles I travel in, we always use car bombs. This is ridiculous.” She stood, but he closed the door behind him, continuing to block the way to the door with his body.

  “I don’t know what kind of world you live in,” he said slowly, his voice a dangerous rumble. “But someone tried to kill you. They know what kind of car you drove here.”

  “They made a mistake.” She paused. “Maybe they saw me with you.”

  “You’re not anything to me, Maddie, so your theory doesn’t make sense.”

  Those words hit her more harshly than she’d expected. They were truthful, not meant to stab, but they still did. “I need to go home.”

  “You can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Someone tried to kill you.”

  “Call the police.”

  He shook his head and eyed her like she’d said the most ridiculous thing in the world. “That will make things worse.”

  She wanted to ask if he was kidding . . . and then she remembered his history with the police. Because of whom he associated with, yes, but also because of her. The guilt tore at her, and she pushed it down. It did nothing to alleviate the helpless feeling. “I can’t . . . I don’t know what to do, Tals.”

  “You stay here until we figure this out.”

  She still didn’t want to believe the car bomb was about her. Tals was involved in dangerous things, but throwing blame wasn’t going to help matters. And still . . . “After what you’re a part of, how can you not think . . . ?”

  His expression froze. “Of course you think that. You always have. It’s why you avoided me, until you needed my help.”

  “Tals, please . . .”

  “I’m not denying my life doesn’t have danger. I’ve grown up with it. By the time I came here, my dad was already in prison. Mom worked nights, so she wasn’t around a lot. She did the best she could, but, man, she didn’t have it easy. And Tenn and I both worked from the time we figured out how to make money. I stole cars and Tenn . . .” He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about this shit anymore. I fucking lived it while you were in your ivory tower.”

  “Tals . . .”

  “But that’s what you wanted, right? A chance to make me feel like shit. To remind yourself of why this was only a fling.”

  “That’s not true. That’s not what it was . . . not what I wanted it to be,” she protested.

  “Sweetheart, I remember every second of that conversation we had.”

  “But that was before . . .” she started. Before everything happened with Earl. Before we slept together.

  Before I didn’t tell the police what really happened and agreed with Earl’s story instead.

  “When you decided to breeze back into town, did you ever stop to think that I don’t want a chick like you? That you’re too much trouble? Not enough substance under the hood? Because if you haven’t suffered, how do you know what real joy is? How do you kno
w how to live?”

  She stared at him, stunned.

  He continued. “My life is dangerous, but I do my best to protect people close to me. And I always protected you. Let’s not forget it was your own Jessamine crew who posed the biggest threat to you back then. So why couldn’t history be repeating itself?”

  His words cut so deep . . . because she didn’t know how to live. She’d come here, to him, to try to learn. “I wouldn’t let that happen.”

  He didn’t push her, didn’t try to talk more about the past. They had enough present to deal with. “Why did you really come here? Are you just fucking with me? I can handle that—just lay it on the line.”

  “I’m not fucking with you.”

  He cupped her chin. “Gotta put your trust in me. Sorry there’s no other choice right now. But you came into town, shaking your ass at me.”

  “I did not shake my ass,” she said indignantly.

  “What do you really want?”

  “A fresh start.” A kiss. A touch. Recapture lost time.

  “Can’t look back when you’re trying to move forward.”

  His eyes flashed as she put her hands on his hips. She pressed against him. Seductively. Obviously. Reached up to cup the back of his neck and pull him closer. Tals stopped thinking when she kissed him. Her hands twisted in his hair as she clung to him, and fuck, she could always turn him around like no one else.

  This was a mistake. He might not regret it, but she would. Then again, he’d never been mistaken for a saint, so why start now? She wanted it, and so did he. Consenting adults.

  Didn’t matter that he might be emotionally invested and she most likely wasn’t. If history was going to repeat itself, he’d make sure it repeated the good aspects too. And going to bed with Maddie?

  Really fucking good.

  In seconds his hands spanned her denim-clad ass, pressing her closer. Her response was immediate as she ground against him wantonly, moaning into his mouth.

  “Been a while for me,” she said shyly. The walls were down, and the Maddie he’d known one-on-one was back. And he had her.

  It made him not want to make the mistake of letting her go again. But he did, at least for the moment. He shook his head. “It’s going to be longer than that. I’m not taking advantage of you now.”

  “Then let me take advantage of you,” she told him. She got lost in his eyes, wanted to climb in and drown in the emotions behind them. “Don’t leave me alone again.”

  “I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” he told her, before shutting the door between them.

  * * *

  The entire time he’d been talking to Maddie, Tals’s phone was vibrating the fuck out of his pocket. Now he scrolled through the texts—some from Cage, and one really important one from Tenn.

  On my way.

  Simple. To the point. And a whole lot of anger behind those three little words.

  Tals had been avoiding telling him about Maddie. At first he told himself it was because Tenn had a lot to worry about with all his businesses anyway. And Tals was handling things. And nothing was happening with Maddie—just a simple date so they could talk, put the past behind them and move on. Coexist.

  The bomb was an unexpected twist. Maddie locked in his bedroom was another. Tals should’ve known that Tenn was way too calm during the bomb phone call. “He’s coming,” he told Cage as he came into the kitchen.

  Cage was dressed like he was on his way out. “I tried to talk him out of it,” he started, but Tals shook his head.

  “We both know that wouldn’t work, but thanks for the attempt, man.”

  Cage cupped a hand on Tals’s shoulder. “He’ll understand.”

  “No, actually, we both know he won’t. But it’s not like I didn’t know that. It’s not going to be pretty.” He paused and looked at the man he’d served with, the guy who’d been by his side as much as Tenn had since they’d come to town, the man who was like another brother to him. “I know you’re pissed at her too, Cage. You just do a damned good job of hiding it.”

  Cage gave a small smile. “Don’t profess to understand it, but I want you safe and happy. Just let me know how I can help. You worked to free me from hell—I owe you, more than you know.”

  Rocco’s voice came up from behind them. “Sorry—didn’t mean to interrupt the brofest, but fuck, you two are getting sappy. You gonna hold hands and braid each other’s hair next? Or can we go out and have some fun now?”

  “I will fuck you up,” Cage promised.

  Chapter 11

  Maddie waited by herself for as long as she could, but after a couple hours of pacing, she opened the door and padded down the hallway and the stairs until she happened on the main room. It was empty, save for Tals, who was watching a movie in the dark.

  He didn’t see her right away, and she stood in the darkness, watching him. He still looked so young, so much like that boy who’d swooped in and saved her. And she . . .

  “I know exactly what you’re thinking about now.” Tals’s voice cut through her reverie, and she looked up into semi-angry eyes that had no doubt known she was standing there the entire time. “Don’t, Maddie, okay? Just don’t.”

  “Tals, I . . .”

  “Nothing you say or do can change any of it.” His words were harsh but correct. Stirring up the past always caused more trouble than it was worth.

  Still . . . “I want to apologize.”

  “For what?” he ground out. “For being scared?”

  Her mouth opened and closed. He took that opportunity to walk out of the room past her, and she remained frozen, angry with herself and with him.

  That’s when Tenn walked in. And she’d always known he was much less forgiving about this subject than his brother. And if she hadn’t known it before, the angry look in his eyes would’ve clued her in immediately.

  He nodded in her direction and went past the table to follow Tals.

  “I’m so sorry,” she managed, and Tenn stopped dead in his tracks. His back stiffened, but he didn’t turn around immediately. Instead, since he was in the doorway, his hands reached out to grab the side of the doorjamb and she heard him just breathe.

  “Tenn, forget it.” Tals’s voice came around the corner, warning his brother.

  “You might be able to say that and mean it, brother, but I sure as hell can’t.” Tenn’s drawl wasn’t as deep as his brother’s, but the anger gave it an edge that made her cross her arms against it.

  * * *

  At Tenn’s comment, Tals didn’t press, couldn’t tell his brother it wasn’t his fight. Because especially in those days it had been one for all. What happened to Tals reverberated through Tenn’s life, and Tals knew his brother was feeling extra protective of him. Fighting that would do no good. He could simply be grateful and try to mend a fence between the two.

  “How’s Cage with all of this?” Tenn asked Tals.

  “He’s . . . ah . . . dealing with it.” As Tals’s best friend, Cage had been affected by Tals’s arrest as badly as Tenn. He was hiding his anger at Maddie well enough, and Tals figured Preacher had something to do with that. Because Preacher was also pissed at Maddie still, although he’d be easier to convince. He understood stupid mistakes of youth.

  Tenn waited a beat, staring into Tals’s eyes before turning to face Maddie. From the doorway, Tals saw her stiffen, but she didn’t move or flinch.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again calmly, but her voice shook, like she was barely restraining the emotion behind it. “It was a horrible time.”

  “Right. I’m sure protecting your rich rapist friend was so difficult. Maybe Tals should apologize for putting you through it.” Tenn’s voice dripped with bitter, vicious sarcasm.

  Tenn was typically so easygoing. Gentle to the people he employed. Nurturing. This was a side of him rarely seen.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Calla walking by. At the sound of the harshness in Tenn’s voice, she stopped cold, looking confused. It was no wonder. L
ast year, when she’d nearly been killed, Tenn had been the first one to protect her, the one she’d called for help when she’d first got together with Cage. She was so close with Tenn, and Tals could see she was simultaneously stunned and worried about him.

  “It wasn’t like that,” Maddie said, her voice rising in pitch slightly.

  “Then tell me what it was like, Maddie. Because from where I’m standing, history’s repeating itself. You get in trouble with your rich man and Tals rescues you. I just need to sit back and wait for the police to come, so you can throw Tals under the bus. Again.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Maddie insisted, and Tals believed her. But Tenn had a right to say what he wanted. And hell, Tals hadn’t asked Maddie to defend herself, but she’d needed to.

  Still, Tals’s gut had twisted all the same as Tenn spoke, because until it had been laid out, he hadn’t seen just how uncomfortably similar the situations were. Granted, in high school she hadn’t been playfully chasing him.

  Maddie told him firmly, “I know he hasn’t forgiven me either, but I’m going to make it up to him. And to you.”

  Tenn snorted, then walked away from her. He glanced at Calla before clapping Tals on the shoulder. “I’m staying here tonight.”

  “Tenn, I . . .”

  “You don’t want me to get involved. I know.” His voice softened. “All for one, Tals.”

  Tals sucked in a harsh breath. Tenn pulled him in for a hug, then walked toward Calla. As they walked toward the rec area, he heard Calla say, “I’m not sure I want to know what that’s all about,” but he didn’t hear Tenn answer.

  Maddie was in the doorway Tenn had vacated moments before, wearing Tals’s clothes, her cheeks flushed. She looked beautiful and vulnerable.

  “It’s so different, Tals,” she told him. “I couldn’t admit how much you scared me back then. Because I knew if I let myself, I could’ve fallen for you. And then I wouldn’t have been able to leave South Carolina. Back then I didn’t realize that my freedom had nothing at all to do with my running. My freedom was—is—you. And I wish it hadn’t taken me so long to know that. I wish I hadn’t brought on so much hurt. I can’t take it back, but I can try to make up for it.”