Hard as an Outlaw_A Motorcycle Club Romance_Devil’s Fighters MC

by Paula Cox

  “I’d like that,” Alyssa said readily. “Thank you.”

  She had not been counting on this. In fact, she had still been trying to think of an excuse to invite herself into the man’s home so that she could talk to him. Against all odds, Philip was actually making things a little easier for her.

  She followed him inside. The house was less messy than she had expected and a lot cleaner than she would have thought considering that Mrs. Wheeler was no longer around. The furniture was scarce and plain, but all in all the house was tidy. Even the kitchen was clean and devoid of the empty cans of beer that used to litter it back in the day.

  Philip must have noticed her surprise, because he gave her a tight smile. “I know,” he said. “Who would’ve thought, huh?”

  “No, I…I mean, I wasn’t…” Alyssa trailed off. There was no point in lying to the man; they both knew what he was—or, as Alyssa was starting to realize, what he used to be. “Yes,” she admitted. “Who would’ve thought?”

  “It’s not all my doing,” he said. “The State doesn’t give me much, but I still managed to hire a maid. Mrs. Hudson comes by twice a week to help me keep the place somewhat presentable.”

  “It looks like you’ve been doing a good job so far,” Alyssa offered.

  “I can’t complain,” Philip said. “Please, have a seat.”

  Alyssa complied. She sat at the kitchen’s table and waited for Philip Wheeler to brew her a cup of coffee. The whole thing felt surreal to say the least.

  And then something he said hit her. “The State doesn’t give me much.” What did he mean, the State? Then again, Alyssa figured after a moment’s thinking, it wasn’t like he would freely admit that he was also receiving money from his son’s fighting as a competitor in an illegal ring.

  “So,” Philip said as he busied himself with preparing the coffee, “how’s Canada?”

  “It’s very beautiful,” Alyssa said.

  “Your dad mentioned you work in a veterinary clinic up there?”

  For a moment, Alyssa wondered where her dad got off to, talking about her personal life with Philip Wheeler of all people, but she quickly decided she didn’t want to investigate.

  “Yes,” she said instead.

  “Do you like it?”

  “Yes.”

  Philip turned around to face her. He watched her curiously. “Speaking of, I get the sense you don’t like me very much.”

  “Can you blame me?” Alyssa retorted before she could stop herself. However, if he could be dishing out caustic truths, then so could she.

  “I guess not,” he said after a moment. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. And I mean, a lot.”

  It still sounded like some of an understatement to her, but this time Alyssa didn’t say anything.

  Once the coffee was ready, Philip placed two steaming mugs, milk, and sugar on the table. He sat down across from her, and the intense scrutiny of his gray eyes was disturbingly similar to that of Prince’s green ones.

  “Why are you really here, Alyssa?”

  Apparently, even the questions were similar.

  “I need to take care of some of my parents’ affairs,” she said, as truthfully as she could.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  She looked at him over the rim of the mug that she was now cradling between her hands.

  “I mean,” he elaborated, “why are you here, in my house? I’m pretty sure it’s not to thank me for the flowers I didn’t send.”

  Alyssa had never seen a sobered-up version of Philip Wheeler before. It was plain to see that he had not touched any alcohol for a while, and as disconcerting as that was, it was nothing compared to the sharp wit he was exhibiting. She wasn’t sure whether his newly found sharpness could be an ally for her purposes or if it only complicated things further.

  “I’m here to talk to you,” she finally admitted.

  “About what?”

  “About Prince.”

  To her surprise, the man went rigid. His body suddenly emanated stellar levels of tension so thick that you could probably cut it with a knife if you only cared to try.

  “What about Prince?” Philip asked, his voice cold and hard as steel.

  Alyssa had not expected such hatred. To be frank, she couldn’t even understand where it came from.

  “This Devil’s Fighters business—”

  “It’s rotten,” Philip cut her out forcefully, all but spitting the words. “He’s rotten.”

  Alyssa stared at the man in shock. She could not believe the words that were coming out of his mouth, or the utter disgust that he seemed to harbor for his own son. A son who, by the way, had thrown away his life in order to save his.

  Ungrateful bastard, Alyssa thought furiously.

  “How firm of a hold do they have on him?” she enquired instead, doing her best not to let her own anger show. “How long is the leash?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “And I don’t care.”

  Alyssa frowned. “What do you mean, you don’t care? How can you not care?”

  “The boy is a disgrace,” Philip spat, visibly almost choking on the words. “I may have made many mistakes in my life, but I never consorted with the Devil’s Fighters. He was dead to me the day he joined their ranks.”

  Alyssa was too appalled to keep her cool any longer. “You never consorted with the Devil’s Fighters?” she repeated, incredulous. She was so furious she even ignored the melodramatic quality of his statement. “Are you shitting me? You gambled with them! Your gambling contributed to finance their godawful fighting rigs!”

  Philip looked quite surprised that she would know that. “I did,” he eventually admitted. “But I was never actually one of them.”

  “He did it for you!” Alyssa blurted out. She was horrified by this man, and she felt incredibly stupid for even ever considering the possibility that he might have changed. He may not be drinking anymore, but he confirmed himself as one of the most horrible persons she ever had the misfortune to meet in her life.

  After the red-hot wave of rage subsided a bit, Alyssa noticed that Philip suddenly looked as if he had been slapped.

  “What do you mean, he did it for me?” he asked. His voice had lost its cold note and had gone very rough and very quiet.

  That’s when Alyssa was finally hit with realization. “You don’t know?”

  Oh God. This was worse than she had imagined. Prince was going to kill her when he found out—and he would find out, there was no doubt about that.

  “Know what?” Philip asked quietly.

  “Nothing,” Alyssa said, and it sounded incredibly lame even to her own ears. “Thank you for the coffee.”

  She made to stand, but Philip reached across the table and grabbed her wrist, effectively keeping her in place.

  “No,” he said firmly. “You don’t come to my house, tell me my son has joined a motorcycle gang for me, and then leave the scene. It doesn’t work like that.”

  Alyssa stared at him. She sighed heavily and slumped back in her chair. “Fine,” she said, because really, what else could she say? What else could she do? She had started this. She had to finish it. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything.”

  And so Alyssa told him, and she watched as the man’s heart pretty much broke in front of her.

  “I don’t believe this,” Philip said once the whole sordid tale had been told.

  Alyssa cringed. “You couldn’t really think Bennie Lenday got you off the hook out of the goodness of his heart?” she asked, as gently as she could.

  “I…” Philip looked completely lost. “Hell, I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to believe that. I didn’t use to do much thinking back then.”

  Yeah, I remember, Alyssa thought bitterly, but she had the good grace not to voice the words.

  “So all the money you’re getting really comes from the State?” she asked after a moment.

  “Yes,” Philip said. “Where did you think it came from? Ev
en if we were still on speaking terms, I’d imagine Prince’s money goes right in Bennie’s pockets. And what he can keep for himself certainly comes nowhere near me. Which I don’t blame him for,” he added when he saw Alyssa opening her mouth to protest.

  Alyssa blushed a little, feeling suddenly embarrassed.

  “I can’t help you,” Philip said then, breaking the heavy silence that had descended upon the room. “I wish I could, but as you can probably tell by now, I don’t know shit.”

  And he really didn’t.

  *****

  Alyssa had always known this wouldn’t be easy, but she did not expect to screw up so early in her endeavor. Prince was going to kill her. He was going to find out, and he was going to kill her. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that Philip Wheeler wouldn’t know anything about what his son had done and was still doing for him.

  As she drove home, Alyssa couldn’t get the shattered look on the man’s face out of her head. In less than twenty-four hours since she had been back in Pinebrook, she had managed to drive away the man she loved and swore to protect and to break an old man’s heart.

  Way to go, you idiot, she berated herself cruelly.

  She had never missed her parents more. They would know what to do. They would have helped. They would have guided her. She missed her father’s council and her mother’s gentle steering in the best direction for her according to the circumstances. They would have prevented her from making mistakes as huge as the one she had made today.

  The more she thought about it, the more disheartened she felt. She had known it wouldn’t be easy, but she hadn’t expected it to be so hopelessly complicated on all fronts either. She realized now that she had to reckon with more than “just” the Devil’s Fighters. There were dynamics to take into account. Feelings, emotions. People’s regrets and shattered dreams. Complicated relationships.

  There was a lot at stake, and for the first time since she had decided to get Prince out of there, she realized that it wasn’t just about making sure he would escape with his life intact. It was about him escaping with his heart intact, as well. Pinebrook’s reality was rotten and so was Prince’s, but there were still things she would have to make sure were preserved. She thought of Rick and of his bond with Prince, which Prince himself had admitted was quite strong. She wondered if could get Rick out, too, and she wondered how Prince would be affected if she couldn’t.

  A new wave or rage washed over her then. The Devil’s Fighters were proving to have an iron hold on not only the town—but they had a hold on people’s hearts, too. They had a say in everything—from public construction to who and how their members loved. It was insanity at its highest, and Alyssa still had no clue how to deal with it.

  Chapter Twenty

  When Alyssa pulled up to the driveway in front of her parents’ house, she realized that her disastrous morning was far from over. There was a Harley-Davidson parked in the very same driveway, and a man waiting for her, sitting on the swing on the house’s front porch. He was the man she hated most in the world, and seeing him was like a stone dropping into her stomach.

  She felt heavy, as she parked the car, got out, and walked slowly up to the house. Not even twenty-four hours since she had been back from Vancouver and already she felt weary. Already she was tired of all of this—of all of them.

  Benedict “Bennie” Lenday was the President of the Devil’s Fighter Motorcycle Club. He had blond hair and dark eyes, a combination that would have driven women crazy if it wasn’t for the fact that any sane woman in Pinebrook knew who he was and how dangerous he was, and therefore steered clear of him. At over forty years of age, he still possessed a fit figure that belonged on the cover of a magazine. He had a clean-shaven face, angular features, and high cheekbones. If he hadn’t chosen to be a criminal, he could just as easily have been a model.

  He stood when he saw her, and he smiled a wolf smile that gave his dark nature away, instantly robbing him off of any charm his physical qualities might have given him—at least, it did in Alyssa’s eyes. She knew there were also women crazy enough to find him appealing.

  “Good morning, Alyssa,” he greeted cheerfully, with a lightness that did not reach his dark eyes.

  Alyssa’s stomach was in knots. The last time he had paid her a visit, it had been to threaten her. She couldn’t quite imagine this would be a friendlier encounter.

  “Bennie,” she acknowledged him. “What do you want?”

  “A cup of coffee would be good,” he deadpanned. “And to talk to you.”

  Alyssa felt her insides grow cold with dread. “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’ll do the talking.”

  Alyssa stared at him. “Get off my property.”

  “Sorry, girlie,” he said, in the tone of voice of one who wasn’t sorry at all. “Can’t do that. Now, are you going to let me in or are we going to have to do this the hard way?”

  Alyssa swallowed hard. She did her best not to let her fear show and ran her gaze carefully over him, studying him. “You just want to talk?” she asked cautiously.

  “I just want to talk,” Bennie said. He lifted a hand to show his good intentions. “Scout’s honor.”

  Alyssa looked at him skeptically. She didn’t quite believe him, but she also knew she had no other choice but to trust him for the time being. He would find his way into her house whether she liked it or not, and there was a truth to what he had said; she didn’t want anything to do with the “hard way.”

  “Fine,” she finally said, relenting. “Come inside. I’ll brew some coffee.”

  “Wonderful,” Bennie said, smiling his predator smile. “Lead the way.”

  Against all of her instincts, Alyssa did.

  They were both silent while she made the coffee, something she was very grateful for. She figured he’d do more than enough talking soon enough, and she would take the small blessing of his silence,—however brief that might be.

  Still, the fact that he wasn’t engaging her in small talk as was his custom worried her. She took it as a confirmation that whatever the reason why he was there, it was probably very bad. Unwittingly, her eyes darted towards the back door in the kitchen.

  “Relax,” Bennie spoke from behind her, seated at the kitchen’s table. “I’m not going to kill you, you know?”

  Alyssa turned around. She couldn’t believe she had been so stupid as to give herself—and her fear—away so easily.

  “No,” she said, looking him straight in the eye, “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I’m telling you. I’m not.”

  He seemed sincere enough, and yet Alyssa was far from relieved as she returned her attention to the coffee maker.

  “Still,” Bennie said, and his voice sounded suddenly very close. Too close. Alyssa spun around and she found he was right behind her. “You have ignored my warnings. You should know, I don’t appreciate being defied.”

  Alyssa swallowed past her suddenly dry mouth. She stepped back, her back hitting the edge of the counter. She cursed inwardly when she realized he had cornered her.

  “What are you talking about?” she said. “I haven’t—”

  “Spare me,” Bennie cut her off, his usually mellow voice going dangerously sharp. “Let’s skip the part where you lie to me and I have to call on your bullshit, shall we? I know you’ve been seeing Prince. I know you’re the one who patched up Rick, and I know that night wasn’t the end of it.”

  “Would you rather I’d let one of your guys die from internal injuries?”

  Somehow, somewhere, Alyssa found the strength to talk back to him. There was a darkness in Bennie’s eyes that she had always known about but had never been on the receiving end of. It was terrifying.

  He sneered at her. “No, I’m glad you patched him up. In fact, I have half a mind of recruiting you as our go-to medic.”

  Alyssa’s own eyes flared with anger then. “Forget it!” she hissed.

  “I won’t,” Ben
nie declared. “I’ll think about it. Carefully.”

  “I will never help you,” Alyssa growled out. She surprised herself with her fierceness, but she really couldn’t stomach the idea of being even remotely connected to Bennie Lenday and his “club.”

  “We’ll see about that,” he said. “But right now we have more pressing matters to discuss. Did I or did I not politely ask you to stay away from Prince Wheeler?”

  Alyssa wasn’t sure threatening to have “something happen to her” if she ignored the warning could be considered “polite,” but she refrained from saying it out loud. Bennie was very close now, so much so that she could smell his breath. She thought it was somehow at odds with the situation that it didn’t smell foul. She thought it should smell sulfurous, like that of Satan’s. Why did the devils never look like devils in real life?