by Fox, Nicole
“Brother,” said Russell. “I’m willing to look past a little B-and-E. I don’t know what you had in mind, but we can talk about it. But if you pull that trigger you’re gonna cross a line that you won’t be able to walk back over.”
“Ain’t nothin’ to talk about,” repeating Cory, still shaking his head, his hands pressed to his temples.
Then he raised the gun again and pointed it at Russell.
“Big man,” he said. “Big bro who can do no fuckin’ wrong. You just get it all, don’t you? Everything I want you got, and it just came to you, like you didn’t even want it and it just fell in your fuckin’ lap. And now look at me; I ain’t got shit. Even got a fuckin’ kid on the way.”
Russell’s eyes shot to me, and I silently cursed Cory for making him find out this way.
“What?” said Russell.
All I could do was nod, fearful tears in my eyes.
“And this was my last chance to do somethin’, anything,” said Cory. “But I guess I got one more.”
He cocked the gun and brought it to his temple, pressing the tip hard against his skull.
“I got one last hand to play,” he said. “Better make it count.”
“No!” shouted Russell, rushing towards his brother.
But he was too late. Cory pulled the trigger and a deafening bang filled the room.
Chapter Nineteen
Alyssa
Eight months later …
I stood on the balcony of our LA home watching the sun sink slowly into the dark blue of the ocean. My arms were wrapped around my belly, as if preparing myself to hold the baby that was due to be born any day now. Bringing the wine glass to my lips, I took a slow sip and a small smile crossed my lips when I realized just how used to my little lime and sparkling water lime substitute I’d gotten.
Then, without any conscious effort on my part, I found myself drifting back to that day in New York, the day that Cory had taken his own life. I knew that it would be burned forever into my mind.
When Cory had pulled the trigger Russell’s first instinct had been to rush to me, cover my eyes, and pull me out of the room. It was shocking when it happened, but looking back, I was thankful that he’d managed to spare me the sight of the gory aftermath of his brother’s suicide. His next move had been to call the police. I remember expressing hesitation at that, Russell’s career being what it was, but he assured me that there was nothing in the townhome that could be used to implicate him; all of that was in his Brooklyn apartment.
So when the cops showed up they didn’t waste any time in seeing the scene for what it was: a junkie brother at the end of his rope making one last desperate move. The house was abuzz with activity, and Russell was quick to get me out of there and into a nearby hotel. Once the night passed there, we both realized that neither of us wanted to go back to the townhome anytime soon, if ever. We spent a week at the hotel before booking a temporary apartment in the city, which had been our home ever since. Only recently had Russell and I had a discussion about the place, and we’d decided that neither of us would be able to step foot in that house without thinking of Cory. The place had been cleaned out and put on the market to be sold as-is, aside from the reminders of that horrible evening.
Business had been keeping us mostly in LA, so there hadn’t been much of a rush to find anything permanent in the city. Sometime after the events of that night, Sandor contacted Russell, letting him know that he’d been so impressed with Russell’s work—not to mention his charming companion—that he wished to offer an opportunity to work closely at his side. Russell graciously accepted the position.
And, to my surprise, I was becoming one of the most sought-after hostesses in the scene. I guess I had a knack for this after all.
“This … is big,” said Russell on the night he spoke with Sandor, the two of us standing on the balcony of the temporary apartment, the evening city spread out before us.
“Is it going to be dangerous?” I asked, wrapping my arm around his waist and resting my head on his shoulder.
“No,” he said. “Far from it. This position will keep me at the top where I’ll be making decisions, managing shipments, and taking care of logistics. All of the dangerous work will be delegated to lower employees.”
And then he turned to me with an almost boyishly enthusiastic glint in his eyes.
“More money, too,” he said. “A lot more money. Not to mention a lot of traveling. Sandor’s got operations all over the globe, and I’ll have to be on top of each and every one of them.”
“Sounds … difficult,” I said, still worried about Russell.
“It will be, but Sandor’s been dropping hints that he’s thinking of retiring. If he’s bringing me on board for a position like this, then … well, I don’t want to jump the gun, but it likely means he’s got big plans for me.”
“That’s amazing,” I said. “You’ve earned it.”
“We’ve earned it,” he said. “You made a hell of an impression on him, and he wouldn’t be considering me for a job like this unless he could trust the both of us.”
And so the next several months passed in a blur of evening parties, lunches out with the girls, and the deepening of the passion between Russell and I. When Cory had done what he did, something changed in Russell. He was still the same hard, uncompromising man that he was before, but there was the slightest softening to his personality. I guessed that between seeing his brother kill himself in front of him after threatening the woman pregnant with his baby, he’d realized just how quickly fortunes could turn, and how important it was to keep those you cared about close.
And that change only served to make me fall in love with him even more.
I couldn’t believe that I was involved with a man like Russell; it was something I never would’ve guessed for myself. But here I was, about to give birth, a new life opening itself up for the both of us. I couldn’t wait to see what was in store.
“Hey,” called out Russell, snapping me out of my daydreaming as he approached me from behind, wrapping his strong arms around me. “Something on your mind?”
“Just…thinking about everything that’s happened,” I said.
“Only about the good parts, I hope,” he said.
“It’s all there,” I said. “But the good parts are the most important.”
“Good,” he said.
A moment passed as he held me while we watched the sunset.
“Come inside,” he said. “I have something to show you.”
Curious, I followed Russell into the house. He led me to the dining room table, where a simple eight-by-ten manila envelope had been placed. The envelope was plain, aside from a small bow attached to the corner.
“What is it?” I asked, looking the envelope over but not touching it, as though it was some kind of magical object that I shouldn’t just pick up.
My eyes flicked over to Russell, who was already dressed for our dinner out. He wore a sharp black suit, tailored perfectly. His dark hair was slicked back, and his eyes had a sparkle to them. Even now, nearly a year into … whatever this thing he and I had was, I couldn’t help but feel my heart skip when I looked at him.
“I know it’s been a while, but you remember how all this started, right?”
I couldn’t help but laugh a little.
“How could I forget?” I said. “I was a tramp living in the back of a car. Probably a few days away from freezing to death.”
“Right,” he said. “But there was a little more to it than that. When I brought you on board, we made an agreement, remember?”
“The whole ‘indentured servant’ thing,” I said, wondering where he was going with this, my stomach beginning to warm with excitement. “Me being your property.”
“Well, right,” he said. “But it was an arrangement. You do work for me, and I do something for you. It’s been almost a year, and I think it’s time I made good on what I said.”
I turned my attention back to the envelope. What was ins
ide of it?
“After all, I think you’ve done more than enough good work for me,” he said, slipping a hand into a pocket. “So, go ahead—open it.”
Still feeling uncertain, I took the envelope from the table. It was light, and I could hear a few documents shift around inside. I opened the top, turned the envelope upside down, and dumped the contents onto the table.
I gasped when I saw what was there.
Among the documents were a passport and a birth certificate, along with a few credit cards in my name. But as I looked over the contents, I saw something that caught my eye—instead of my name as it was, there was a new name: Alyssa Carrick.
And that was when I looked at the last document in the pile.
It was a marriage certificate, one that stated that I was married to Russell. I turned to him, my eyes wide, my hands shaking. And that was when I spotted the final gift in his hands: a small black box.
“I didn’t want to be presumptive, but I hope this is something you want.”
He opened the box, revealing a gorgeous diamond ring.
“I’m ready to make this official,” he said, his voice warm. “Alyssa, will you marry me?”
I couldn’t even form the words. Rushing towards him, I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him over and over.
“Yes,” I said, holding back the tears. “Yes, yes, yes!”
Then, he slipped the ring on my finger, clasping my hand between his. Neither of us could speak, so instead, we walked out onto the patio, the sun now dipping behind the sea, a brilliant swirl of orange and cream around it.
I didn’t know what the future held, but Russell and I were now officially man and wife. And I knew together we could do anything.
THE END
***
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KNOCKED UP BY THE BAD BOY: The Warriors MC By Nicole Fox
FIVE REBEL BIKERS. FIVE INNOCENT GIRLS.
WHO CAN KNOCK THEIR WOMAN UP FIRST?
I made a bet with my brothers:
First one to knock up a local girl wins.
At first, I don’t care what happens.
But when Bambi crosses my sights… losing is no longer an option.
I could never resist a pretty girl.
And Bambi’s body screams temptation.
She’s the County Queen.
Doe-eyed.
Long-legged.
Sin and sex with curves for days.
But it isn’t until I’ve snatched her for myself that I realize there’s a lot happening in the shadows.
The stakes are higher than I ever imagined.
Too f***ing bad.
I intend to make Bambi mine.
Screw the bet.
Screw it all.
She WILL carry my child.
But only after she begs for my seed.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Chapter 1 Snake
It was just a little local bar, the kind of place that served everyone from insurance agents to farmers to teachers. There were no bouncers or cover charges. The mismatched tables and the sealed concrete floor let us know that this wasn’t anything fancy, but that was all right with us. It wasn’t the sort of place that was prepared to host an entire motorcycle club, and the look on the bartender’s face said it all when we walked in. He took one look at us and disappeared through a door behind the bar, coming back with his manager a minute later.
The older man leaned on the bar, his face drawn but trying to look tough. “What can we do for you boys?” The few other patrons gaped at us. Clearly, they didn’t get guys like us in this town very often.
Bruiser, the leader of our little clan, smiled. He was a scrawny man, but he knew how to intimidate someone if he wanted to. This time though, he just smiled and spread his hands. “Just stopping in for a drink.” His leathers creaked in the silence that had fallen over the place.
“I don’t want any trouble, now,” the manager warned. “If you’re here as paying customers, well then, that’s fine. But I have the sheriff on speed dial.” He pointed to an old phone on the wall that looked like it could have been a prop.
We had about the same experience no matter where we went. The Warriors rode where they wished, whether the locals appreciated it or not. We’d been on the road for far too long, and it was time to stop for a while. This little town of Myrtle Creek was going to be our temporary home for the next few days while we rested and tuned up our bikes. Our gang filled up the bar quickly, making the locals take off for other watering holes.
I found a spot at a table near the back with several other members who had become close friends in the few years since I’d joined the Warriors. “What do you make of this place?” I asked, studying the barnwood that lined the walls and the framed pictures of small-town celebrities. “Think there’s anything interesting going on around here?”
“You’re joking, right, Snake?” asked Axle, a slim young man who had just joined our club last year. He pushed his long curly hair back with one hand. “We’re probably the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to this town. All the little church ladies will be talking about us for the next five years.”
“We could always make something happen.” Rusty, big and burly with a head of flaming hair that matched his name, plunked down in a chair and raised his finger in the air to summon a waitress. “I’m a little bored after just riding for so long.”
“You heard Bruiser,” I reminded him. “He said we’re just here as paying customers. No fights tonight.” It had been a while since I’d had a good brawl, but I wasn’t really in the mood. Like Rusty, I was tired.
A young woman with a dark ponytail and wide eyes walked up to us. “What can I get you?” Her voice shook, and she constantly looked over us at the bar, no doubt keeping eye contact with her manager.
“Just a round of beers,” I said.
“Unless you’re on the menu.” Rubble was built like a boulder, short and round. He had a habit of being a little creepy, and the girls in any town we stopped in usually ran from him like the plague. “I’d gladly take a serving.”
She practically ran back behind the bar to get the drinks, tears in her eyes.
The big blond man across from him shook his head, his beard brushing against his vest. “You’re never gonna get a woman,” Moose advised. “You should know by now that a delicate creature like that needs a little time to get used to seeing your ugly mug before you subject her to your nasal voice.”
The rest of us laughed, but Rubble balled his fists. “You want to go at it again? I’m gonna kick your ass this time.”
“Sure you will.” We all knew that Moose wasn’t the kind of guy you’d want to fight. Formerly in the military, he had studied martial arts for several years and was a weapon in and of himself. A little guy like Rubble couldn’t take him, and the rest of us were smart enough not to try.
“Dude, don’t listen to him. You can get a girl any time you want.” Axle leaned forward on the table. “You’re just going to have to pay her. A lot.”
We exploded in laughter once again as the waitress came back. She nearly threw the beers on the table before retreating once more, and Rubble didn’t say anything else to her. After all, we were all ready for a long night of drinking.
It was cheap beer, but it hit the spot. I sucked it down like it was the stuff of life and ordered another round. Before I knew it, I was feeling a little buzzed. “So, what are we going to do while we’re here? We should see what they have for entertainment in this little one-horse town.” We hadn’t spotted any casinos or nightclubs on our way through town, just a lot of churches. Still, there had to be something to do.
Rusty pounded his empty glass down on the table and sat up stra
ight, looking like a lumberjack with his red hair and goatee. “Call it what it is, Snake. It’s a shithole. Just like every other little place we ride through. I don’t know why Bruiser doesn’t go for bigger cities. There would be so much more to do. But no, we’re stuck in the shithole.”
“Okay, then we should see what they have for entertainment in this little shithole.” I shook my empty glass in the air, and the little waitress shot back over to refill it. She was working like crazy to keep all the bikers satisfied. “And I think he’s just a small-town kind of guy. Besides, there are more cops in the cities.”
Rubble watched the waitress’s ass as she walked away. “Let’s just do what Rusty said and entertain ourselves. I bet there are horny women all over this town that would just be dying to get on our bikes.”