Jericho

by Tess Oliver

  I finished my beer. “Gonna take a piss. Then let’s blow this joint. I’m beat.”

  Jacko’s shoulders dropped. “I only had the one lap dance. All it did was make me want another one.”

  Reed shook his head. “That’s the whole point. They want you coming back for more, so they can fill their sexy little g-strings with your money. It’s not your cock they want. It’s your cash.”

  I walked down the hallway to the restroom, and for some reason, my thoughts went to the girl who’d been standing in the office. Something about her had reminded me of Evie, that extremely smart, savvy gleam in her eye made it seem as if she was standing in a place she totally didn’t belong. Evie had never belonged in the compound or the MC life either. But she’d held her own through all the rough times. And it never changed her. The harsh reality of life in the compound had never erased Evie’s incredible sparkle. I wouldn’t have survived those years without her.

  I finished my business, and as I walked out into the dimly lit hallway, someone behind me whistled. I turned back. The brunette, Rook’s girlfriend, was leaning against the wall next to the dressing rooms. She was wearing a lacy g-string and silver pasties and had a hungry gleam in her blue eyes. She looked me over and whistled again.

  “Yeah,” I sighed, “I get that a lot.”

  She smiled and sashayed toward me with a look that told me trouble wasn’t far behind. She pressed seductively against me. I would have had to have been a dead man not to react.

  “I’m Sara, and you’re—?”

  “Jericho. I understand you’re Rook’s girlfriend.”

  That statement threw her off for a second, but she recovered quickly. “What I am is interested in this extremely spectacular man in the Bedlam cut.” She dragged her long pink fingernails down my president’s patch. “I love powerful men.” She licked her glossy bottom lip.

  “You, my darlin’, do not have to try so hard. If you weren’t already spoken for, you and me would be getting to know each other better right now.”

  “Rook won’t know.” She flicked her eyes the direction of the main room. There was no way not to notice the nervous twitch in her pouty lips. She boldly reached down and ran her hand over the front of my jeans and flashed a satisfied smile. “Ooh, hard already. Come on, sweetie, let’s go in the back.”

  I took hold of her wrist and kissed her hand. “Trust me, this is tougher for me than it seems, but I’m walking away from your tempting offer.”

  She bit her lip as if she was quickly trying to come up with a new strategy.

  “How much did Gamble pay you to do this?” I asked.

  She put on a good show of acting shocked but then she sighed in surrender. “Hundred bucks.” Her long lashes fluttered flirtatiously as she leaned her nearly naked body against mine. “But he was wasting his money. I would have done you for free. Like you just walked out of a goddamn painting.”

  “You’re a picture yourself, darlin’.” I headed down the hallway.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  I stopped and looked back. Her expression had turned from flirtatious to serious.

  “Sorry for what?”

  “I don’t want Gamble to be pissed at me.” The worry in her face wasn’t something I was expecting. She’d been paid to get a fire started, and if it didn’t happen, she’d be on the block for it. I was already not liking this Gamble asshole. He had better offer a good fucking deal, or he was going to have to go back to armored trucks.

  I walked back to Sara and placed a hand against the side of her face. “Sweetheart, you do what you need to do. I don’t want you to get in trouble or lose the hundred bucks.”

  I headed back out to the guys. I threw another twenty on the table for Pepper. “Let’s go.”

  Reed glanced up. “What’s up, Richo?”

  Sara had pulled on a silky robe. She avoided looking my direction as she walked across the room to the table where Rook and his boys were still sitting.

  “Hope you guys didn’t drink too much. I think Gamble’s test is about to begin.”

  “Fuck yeah,” Jacko said. “If I can’t get laid tonight, at least I get to kick some ass.”

  “Glad to keep you entertained, Jacko.” I motioned toward the exit.

  Pepper seemed to catch on that something was happening. She glanced back toward Rook and then at us as we walked past. The girl from the office was stacking clean glasses on the bar. Our gazes locked as I walked by. Then she looked away. I had no damn idea why, but when she pulled her gaze away, it felt like something snapped, like a cord between us broke. It was a weird fucking feeling. I shook it off. We stepped out into the parking lot.

  A lot of the other customers had already left, and aside from all the bikes, there were only two other cars and a truck sitting beneath the lights. On cue, I heard the exit door to the club open sharply as Rook rammed into it.

  “Walsh? Hey, you fucking Bedlam pussies. You didn’t think we were going to let you dicks roll off on those sissy bikes, did you?”

  I turned around. “Don’t really want to get into anything, Rook. Gamble invited us, and we saw the place. Now we’re pulling out of here.”

  He raised his fist and shook it, reminding me of an old man yelling at us to get off his lawn. “You made a pass at my girlfriend.”

  Jacko and Reed looked at me.

  “Gamble paid her to start this,” I said quietly from the side of my mouth. I stepped closer to Rook. He was about the same size as me but with a few more years and pounds, soft pounds. A couple of his guys looked as if they could throw an effective fist, but our only real disadvantage was that we were outnumbered five to three. Reed was grumpy and slightly drunk, so I could easily count him as two, once things got started.

  “Look, man,” I said. “I didn’t try anything. It’s done.”

  “It’s not like she wasn’t dancing up there naked in front of all of us all night, anyhow,” Jacko added unhelpfully. Beer made him just that much less of a thinker.

  Rook’s face reddened, and his fists clamped shut. “What are you trying to say, Walsh? That my girl came after you? Cause if she’s fucking lying to me—”

  “No, no she’s not lying.” The last thing I wanted was to get the girl in trouble, and this fucker looked like the type who would hit a woman. “I came on to her. Sorry.” I turned to walk toward the bikes hoping they’d get smart and back off, but they didn’t. I heard Rook’s stomping footsteps and swung around to face him.

  All five men lunged at us. My fist shot out at Rook before he got me. He stumbled back. One of his sidekicks wrapped an arm around my neck for a chokehold. From the corner of my eye, I could see Jacko pounding one of the dudes senseless. Behind me, I heard Reed’s familiar growl as he pummeled another guy. He was fighting off two of them. Pepper and the bouncers had come out to watch the fun.

  Rook had recovered from my blow. I still had the annoying piece of shit standing behind me thinking he had a good hold on my neck. As Rook came near enough, I grabbed the arm around my neck and flipped the guy over my back. His body came down hard right on top of Rook. The Devil’s president grunted in pain as his face smacked the asphalt. The guy I flipped, rolled off of Rook. Spittle and foam bubbled from his mouth like a rabid dog. Apparently, this guy was their club’s version of Reed, from mild-mannered to killer with one good flip over a shoulder. He was good-sized, but a lot of his bulk was from beer. He roared as he came at me. I threw a fist into his cushioned stomach, but it didn’t stop him. Behind him, Rook pushed to his feet for a fleeting second just as Jacko flew at him and took him out again.

  The big bellied beast in front of me got in one good shot. I swished my jaw back and forth to get it back in alignment with my head. I pointed at my chin. “Not the face, dude. It’s my most valuable asset.”

  His blubbery lips twisted in anger. “You fucking asshole,” he growled. He threw all his weight at me. I grabbed his shirt and plowed my fist into his fleshy face. I held him tightly as I hit him again. I politely
gave him a few seconds to recover between blows. In the interim, I glanced around at the carnage. There were Northern Devils strewn around the parking lot. Jacko and Reed were checking out the Road King waiting for me to finish. The girl, the one from the office, had walked out with her tight jeans and her slightly judgmental gaze.

  In the midst of it all, my phone buzzed. The man hanging from my hand wasn’t out yet, and he looked as if he wanted more. I held his half-limp body with one hand and fished out my phone with the other. He watched from beneath swollen lids.

  I shrugged. “Could be something important.” It was Evie. “Jacko,” I called, “finish this one. I’ve got to take this call.”

  The bartender, Pepper, had a good laugh, but the girl didn’t even crack a smile. She walked back inside.

  Jacko grabbed the big dude from my hand, and I answered my phone.

  “Hey, Evie.” I walked over by the bikes. Grunts of pain rolled across the lot as Jacko laid out the last standing Devil.

  “What’s that sound?” Angel asked. “I thought you guys were going to avoid fighting.”

  “We are. We were, I mean. But circumstances came up.”

  She paused. “Circumstances? You mean a girl?”

  “Maybe.”

  She sighed in disapproval. “You are so darn predictable, Richo. Anyhow, I just wanted to ask if you got the email from Kristina.” Kristina was a girl who lived in Montana and worked for Luke’s brother, Gage. She’d been the closest I’d ever come to a steady relationship, aside from the one-sided one that I’d had with Evie all those years.

  “Nah, I’ve been on the road. What’s up? Is she all right? I was thinking of heading to Montana next month.”

  “Kristina got engaged.”

  I paused. I hadn’t really expected it to hit me, but it did. “Oh, right. Well then, I guess that’s that.”

  “Richo, you couldn’t expect her to wait, you know?”

  “Yeah. No, you’re right. It’s for the best. Those long distance things are bullshit anyhow. So, how are you doing, Evie, and how’s that cocky asshole, Barringer?”

  “Everything is great. Pre-med is challenging and stressful, but I love it.”

  “Considering you’ve been practicing medicine since you were ten, I’m sure it’s nothing you can’t handle. Hey, Evie, I’ve got to go. Jacko and Reed are waiting.”

  “O.K. and no more fighting. Hey, and sweetie, I’m sorry about the whole Kristina thing.”

  “Yeah well, you know me, the lone fucking ranger. But if you ever decide to leave Barringer, you know where to find me.”

  “You mean jail?” She laughed.

  “Shit, Evie, now you’ve jinxed me.”

  “I’m sorry. Wait, I’ll knock on some wood. Shit, there’s no wood.” She paused. “There, I knocked on my skull. Hey, Richo?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Be careful and stay out of trouble. And come to visit soon. Love you.”

  “Love you too. Later, Evie.”

  The girl from the club had come out with ice wrapped in towels for our victims. They didn’t look inclined to further the fight, but I had no doubt that word of this would get to the rest of their club and we’d be dealing with the after effects for awhile. I’d have to do some peace talks at some point to patch things up. We had no beef with the Northern Devils, and they would be stupid to think they had any chance against Bedlam. That, we’d just proved, with only three men.

  Jacko, Reed and I climbed on our bikes and rode off. Test taken and passed.

  chapter 4

  Roxie

  I poured myself a glass of juice. Trace was talking to someone on the phone in the family room. My shoulders tensed. Not long ago, I’d realized that even the sound of his voice made me cringe. He’d gone from someone who I could tolerate, even enjoy being around, depending on his mood, to someone who I loathed so much that the very thought of him made my jaw tighten.

  The phone conversation stopped. Trace’s footsteps pounded the hardwood floors of the house. The lake house was set on a small bluff. There was an awe-inspiring view from almost every room. Trace had had the architect design it that way. It was an impressive five thousand square foot log house that oozed wealth and privilege, even if most of that wealth had been laundered through a variety of dirty businesses. Still, Trace had a reputation as a high rolling business man, and in some ways, he was someone to be admired. He’d come from a broken home where his abusive dad showed up every month or so to take any of the paltry money or provisions Trace’s mom had in the house. But that humble, sometimes brutal, childhood hadn’t instilled compassion in Trace. It had made him ruthlessly ambitious. Trace wasn’t above hurting other people to get what he wanted, and that was where his character went south, the deep south.

  I finished the glass of juice and texted my brother, Sean, to let him know I was going to stop by for a visit. I had some toys for my nephew, Easton. My nephew was the one very special little man in my life. He was more important to me than anyone.

  “Hey, babe, thought we’d take the boat out on the lake this morning. I’m meeting with the guys from Bedlam later, so let’s get out there now.” Trace hadn’t pulled on a shirt yet. He had the kind of build women went nuts for, muscular arms and shoulders with a six-pack abdomen, but for me, his imposing physique just reminded me that he had complete control over my life, both physically and mentally. It wasn’t something I was proud of. In fact, it made me nauseous to think about. But I was stuck in a situation that there was no clear way out of. And people, people I loved, counted on me to stick it out with Trace, no matter how much I hated him.

  “I’m going over to Sean’s. I’ve got some toys to take Easton.” I was extremely thankful that I had an excuse ready to go. Even if I hadn’t, I would have come up with something.

  Trace walked into the kitchen and trapped me between his hard body and the counter. He blinked his harsh, dark gaze at me for a tense few seconds. “You need to find more time to spend with me, Roxie.”

  “I spend most of my time working for you, keeping your accounts in order,” I shot back confidently. “That time should be counted as time spent with you, since, technically, it’s all about you.”

  “You know, when you’re being bitchy”—he pinched my chin between his thumb and forefinger—“that bottom lip of yours juts out.” He leaned forward. His aftershave overwhelmed me as he took my bottom lip between his teeth. I didn’t dare pull away. He would take sadistic pleasure in tearing my lip. “You go then, on your visit with special little Easton. After my meeting today, we’re going to spend some quality time together.” He shoved his knee between my thighs and pressed his hand against my crotch. “Got it?”

  “Looking forward, as always,” I sneered. I found it hard to comprehend why Trace would want me around at all anymore. I was never in a good mood with him, and I’d made it quite clear that I hated him. With him, it was all about control. He’d struck up this deal, and now, he was going to milk it for every last drop.

  He stepped back. My entire body relaxed.

  He grabbed a cup for some coffee. “So, Barron said those Bedlam guys smeared the asphalt with all five Northern Devils with almost no effort at all.”

  I shrugged. “They handled themselves pretty well. But then, that was why you set the whole thing up, right? To see if Bedlam stood up to their reputation as badasses.”

  “I might have arranged a little spark to start the fire. I can’t hire a security team who isn’t able to defend itself.”

  “I just hope Sara doesn’t get caught up in the thick of it. Rook is an asshole.” Almost as big an asshole as you, I thought wryly, but kept it to myself.

  “She got paid for it. She’ll be fine.”

  I huffed in disgust, and he caught it.

  “What?” he asked sharply.

  “Nothing. As long as everything works out for you, it doesn’t really matter if Rook slaps Sara around.”

  He held his hands out. “What the fuck do you want me to do, Roxie? Sar
a picked Rook all on her own. I had no part in her stupid decision. I pay her to work for me, and that’s where the relationship ends.” He pointed at me. “And I pay all my workers well.”

  “Yep. Yes you do.” I sidled past him and breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t reach for me. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  chapter 5

  Roxie

  Sean hadn’t mowed the lawn in weeks, and the grass, or weeds, to be more accurate, were nearly knee high. A few of Easton’s toys and a small plastic pool with moldy green residue littered the front yard. The rest of the neighborhood wasn’t exactly posh, but the people kept their yards neat and their houses painted. Sean’s rental property stuck out as the yucky blemish of the neighborhood. There was really no reason why my six-foot-plus, perfectly able-bodied brother couldn’t mow the damn lawn. He rarely took pride in anything, anything that is, except his four-year-old son, Easton. And for Easton, the entire universe revolved around his dad. Fatherhood was about the only thing in his entire life Sean had ever gotten perfectly right.

  Nancy, Sean’s wife, opened the door for me. She had the usual dark rings beneath her eyes, and she looked impossibly thin, like someone had stuck a paper doll into a pair of sweats. She smiled weakly and hugged me around the boxes I was holding for Easton.

  “How are you doing, Nancy?” I asked hesitantly. For most people it was a perfectly common question that almost always resulted in the traditional ‘just fine’ answer. But not with Nancy. She suffered from depression, and it wasn’t just the crap, I’m feeling blue today, kind. She was heavily medicated all the time. It seemed to keep her from suicidal thoughts, but at the same time, everything, even just making toast for her little boy, took effort.

  Her hands were shaky as she tucked her extremely greasy hair behind her ear. “I’m in a bit of darkness today, but it’ll pass.” Darkness was her word for the depression, and she always liked to say ‘it’ll pass’. But it never did.