GUNNER: Lords of Carnage MC

by Daphne Loveling

  Sam comes back out. “Stay put,” he tells me. “I’m having an appraiser come to look at the ring.”

  I frown at him. That seems odd. The ring is a fairly nice one, but not so nice that I’d think he’d need to have someone else take a look at it. Then again, what do I know? I’ve actually never pawned anything before. And maybe this means the ring is worth more than I thought.

  I put the ring back into the box for safekeeping, and slide it back into my pocket. Wandering over to Noah, I tell him in a low voice to stop putting his hands on the glass case in front of him. I try to figure out some sort of small talk that I can make with Sam, but when I glance back in his direction, I see he’s gone back to clipping his nails.

  Five more minutes pass. I’m getting kind of antsy, and Noah’s asking when we’re going to leave. I start to ask Sam how long it will be before the appraiser gets here, but as I do, the low sound of a motorcycle approaching stops me.

  Before I know what’s happening, I see that Angel is outside the shop, parking his bike in the spot next to my car. Open-mouthed, I look over at Sam accusingly, but he refuses to meet my gaze.

  My heart sinks as Angel storms into the shop. “What the fuck, Jenna?” he explodes at me. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Well, I guess now I know Sam recognizes me, I think bitterly. Shooting him an angry look, I hiss at Angel, “Can we please not do this here?”

  “Fine. Come on.” He takes me by the arm and starts to lead me out, but I shake him off. Picking Noah up into my arms, I nod stonily toward the front entrance and follow Angel out of the pawn shop, shooting daggers at Sam’s bald head as I do.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you needed money this bad?” Angel barks at me when we’re out on the sidewalk. “Sam said you were trying to pawn Mom’s engagement ring?”

  I don’t know if he’s mad about the ring, or just mad that his sister went to a pawn shop instead of to the family, or both. “Angel, I…” I begin, but I don’t know what to say. I don’t want Noah to hear any of this. Not that he’d understand, exactly. I know he’s too young. But I don’t want him to hear that we need money. I don’t want my little boy to worry.

  “Look, can you just let me put Noah in the car first?” I ask. I open the back door and set him down, and Noah climbs obediently into his car seat. I grab two of his toys, a plastic dune buggy and his stuffed monkey, and hand them to him. Leaving the door open so he won’t get too hot, I come back to Angel on the sidewalk.

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Angel repeats as soon as I’m back. “Shit, Dad would have given you money. All you would have needed to do was ask. I still don’t get why you didn’t just move in with him.”

  “You know what he’s like, Angel. I can’t.” I shake my head in frustration. “I just can’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that once again, his daughter is a failure who can’t stand on her own two feet.” All the frustration and worry of the past few days wells up inside me, and for a second I think I’m going to cry. “It’s bad enough I had to come back here at all. Bad enough that I had to have him put a down the security deposit on the apartment. I just want to make it on my own,” I say, closing my eyes against the swell of emotions. “I just want to pay my own way.”

  I open my eyes again, and heave a deep sigh.

  “I don’t even know why I’m here, Angel,” I say helplessly. “I don’t know how things got so… hard.”

  For a few moments, Angel doesn’t say anything. We’re not exactly close, and it’s not my habit to confide in him about my problems. He seems to be struggling for the right words to say. Finally, he breaks the silence.

  “Jenna,” he begins slowly, “If you need money this bad, then come pour drinks at the club bar. We’ve got an opening, and the prospect that’s been doing it is shit.” He cracks a small grin then. “You’d be doing us a favor, frankly. And the pay’s not bad.”

  My eyes widen. “Are you seriously suggesting that I take a job slinging drinks for an outlaw motorcycle club right now?”

  He shrugs. “You need a job. We need a bartender. Why not?”

  “No,” I blurt out. “No, no, no. I don’t want anything to do with the Lords of Carnage, Angel.” My temper’s rising, but I know part of the reason is that deep down inside of me, there’s a tiny little voice inside me saying It’s a lifeline, Jenna. Take it. I take a deep breath and push the voice away. No.

  Angel rolls his eyes and tries again. “Jenna. Look. Just please come by. At least check it out before you blow me off.” I open my mouth and he cuts me off. “C’mon, don’t be like that. Come to the club. Just see it for yourself. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not that bad.”

  I snort.

  Angel smirks. “You know, some of the brothers have old ladies and children. We even do charity stuff.”

  “Yeah, right,” I sigh. “I’m sure it’s a regular Rotary Club over there.”

  His laughter is easy. “You’ll never know unless you come check it out for yourself. Come on, let’s go.”

  “What, now?” My eyes grow wide. “Are you forgetting that I’ve got Noah with me?”

  “He’ll be fine. Trust me. You think I’d bring my sister and my nephew there if you wouldn’t be safe?” Angel glances toward my son, who’s making his stuffed monkey, Chip-Chip, do back flips. “You can nail my balls to the wall later if anything bad happens,” he promises.

  Against my better judgment, and muttering to myself about what an idiot I am the whole time, I end up agreeing to follow Angel back to the club. The whole way there, Noah is chattering to himself in the back seat and making monkey sounds, and I wonder to myself if I’m making a huge mistake.

  12

  Jenna

  The clubhouse is a nondescript building set back from the main road, with a large, fenced in area to the side and a parking lot in front. Rows of bikes line the portion of the lot next to the fence.

  Angel parks his Harley at the end of one of the rows, and walks over to me just as I’m unbuckling Noah from his car seat. I hand my son to his uncle, who awkwardly gets him into a piggyback position, and together we enter the club through a heavy, windowless front door.

  What the hell am I doing? I ask myself as Angel swings the door open. I open my mouth to tell him I’ve changed my mind. But by the time I get my voice to work, he’s already through the door and inside the clubhouse with Noah.

  It takes a couple of seconds for my eyes to adjust to the light difference, but when I do I see we’ve entered a large, open room. There are about a dozen large, tattooed men of various shapes and ages, all wearing leather cuts emblazoned with the Lords of Carnage rockers. The men are scattered around the room, standing or sitting, laughing or playing pool. A few women are there, too, which surprises me even though Angel told me there might be. Most of them are dressed in clothes so tight I wonder how they can even breathe, and some of them are wearing makeup more dramatic than I would ever wear even to go out to a club. If I went to clubs, that is.

  “Hey, y’all, this is my sister, Jenna,” Angel yells. “And her kid, Noah. You treat them with respect.”

  It occurs to me to wonder what kind of welcome I’d be getting if I wasn’t the VP’s sister. But before I can go too far down that rabbit hole, an enormous — like unbelievably enormous — man with a large beard comes up and claps Angel on the shoulder.

  “So this is your family, brother,” he rumbles, in a voice just as deep as I would have expected. Then he raises his huge, tattooed arm and extends his hand toward Noah.

  “Hey there, little man,” he says. “I’m Tank.”

  Noah’s eyes are so big I can’t tell if he’s terrified or just fascinated. “Hi,” he says in a small voice, putting his tiny paw in Tank’s larger one. They shake solemnly, and damned if it isn’t somehow about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

  It’s surreal. I think this place is already starting to mess with my head.

  “Ma’am,” Tank then says respectfully, turning to me and nodding his head
once.

  “Uh, pleased to meet you… Tank,” I stammer.

  I have to resist a sudden urge to burst into hysterical laughter. I’m exchanging polite pleasantries with a tattooed, leather-clad human mountain who could break me in half with two fingers.

  Yup. Seriously starting to mess with my head.

  Then, from over to one side, one of the women squeals and comes over to us, tottering in thigh-length boots.

  “Oh, my gosh, he is just the cutest little thing!” she croons. “I just love kids, and he is just adorable. A real future lady-killer.” She winks at Noah and then turns to me. “Hi, I’m Jewel,” she says. She starts to lift up a hand for me to shake, but then lowers it quickly. I look down and see it’s covered in a thick bandage. “Sorry, I keep forgetting about this thing,” she pouts ruefully.

  Angel speaks up. “Jewel’s the bartender I told you about. She’s out of commission for at least a few weeks.”

  She’s pretty, with wheat-colored hair and a wide, toothy smile. Her revealing clothes notwithstanding, there’s kind of an innocence about her attitude and demeanor that feels a little strange in an MC clubhouse — well, like I know what an MC clubhouse should even feel like. But she’s not exactly the “rode hard and put away wet” woman I would have imagined.

  “What’s your name, kiddo?” she’s asking Noah now. Normally, it overwhelms him when lots of adults start paying attention to him, and I expect him to shrink back from her. Instead, he gives her a shy smile.

  “Noah,” he tells her.

  “That’s such a good name for a handsome boy like you,” she grins at him. “How old are you?”

  “I’m four,” he tells her proudly, holding up his hand to show her how many. “Almost five. I can read already!”

  “Wow. That’s great. You must be really smart, then.”

  Noah nods. “I am.” We all laugh.

  “Your little boy reminds me of my little brother, back in Indiana.” Jewel says, looking at me. “He’s ten. Going on about thirty.”

  I chuckle. “Yeah, Noah gives me a run for my money.”

  “Hey, Jewel,” Angel says. “You wanna take Noah for a few minutes? We’ve got some business to discuss.”

  “Sure thing!” she says enthusiastically. “Come on, Noah. You want me to teach you a card trick?”

  Noah bobs his head up and down, and slides off Angel’s back. Jewel immediately offers him her non-bandaged hand and leads him over to one of the couches to play with him.

  Angel leads me over to the bar. “And that fucker there, pardon my French, is the reason we need to get you behind the bar,” he says, pointing. A handsome but nervous-looking young guy behind the bar gives me a slight wave.

  Prospect,” he calls to him. “You think you can pour my sister a decent drink without killing her?”

  I almost say no to the drink, but the fact is, my nerves are kind of jangled at the moment. I ask for a beer, which is cold and soothing and ends up settling me down a bit. A few more of the MC members come over to see what’s going on, and I start to realize I know quite a few of them. Angel makes more introductions, and I let myself relax a little bit. The men aren’t nearly as intimidating as I expected them to be, although I’m guessing that’s because Angel’s my brother. They are, almost to a man, freaking massive, though. The smallest of them has almost a foot on me. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a room with such a sea of testosterone before.

  It’s… freaky, I admit. I mean, most of these guys are objectively hot. But thankfully, they seem to be dialing it back with me, and I’m thankful for that. Far from feeling in danger, I actually start to have fun bantering with the men.

  About half an hour later, I take a deep breath and turn to Angel.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to do this,” I tell him, “but I accept your offer. Just until I can get on my feet, and Jewel can start tending again,” I add hastily.

  Angel grins at me. “Good deal. Now, get behind the bar and mix me your fanciest drink.”

  I snort. “Will do. Where do you keep the paper umbrellas?”

  I slip behind the bar and root around to see what they have. I end up mixing him an Irish Car Bomb, which I adorn with a makeshift umbrella that I’ve made out of a toothpick and a paper coaster. I bring it my brother in the back, where he’s started a game of pool with a few of the other men, who laugh and give him shit about the umbrella.

  From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Jewel and Noah. They’re playing some sort of card game where they’re both slapping the cards on the table as hard as they can. He’s laughing and screaming in glee — the happiest I’ve seen him since we moved to Tanner Springs. I push down my feelings of guilt and allow myself a rare moment of optimism.

  Maybe things are going to be okay, I think for the first time in days.

  And then, just as I’m walking back to the bar, the front door opens and Cas Watkins strolls in.

  13

  Cas

  Even though it was originally my idea for Angel to ask Jenna to tend bar for the MC, it’s still a pretty big shock to see her here.

  Since that day at the Downtown Diner, I haven’t seen Jenna at all. And definitely not this close up.

  I could have used a warning.

  Again, I’m struck by how startling it is to see her as a brunette. It definitely suits her. Hell, pretty much anything would look good on Jenna, though. She could probably shave her damn head and still be a damn knockout. Even so, it still feels a little… off. Like the way she was carrying herself the other day at the diner. The curtain of hair, and the way she has a tendency to hide behind it, feels like a barrier. Something she’s consciously placing between her and the world.

  She looks up at me just as I come through the door and freezes in her tracks. Those pale, pale blue eyes lock onto me, her lips parting slightly in surprise. I take advantage of the moment to check out the entire package close up.

  Jenna is petite in stature, barely coming up to my shoulder. But even so, somehow she has legs that just won’t quit. She’s wearing a pair of jean shorts that are probably meant to be modest, but on her they’re anything but. Looking at her now, my eyes raking over her curves, I can still remember how it felt to reach down and cup her ass, pulling her toward me for the first time all those years ago. The feel of it in my hands is so strong right now that I have to fight the rising of my cock against my zipper. Shit. No good pitching a tent right here in front of the whole club. Especially when I can’t do anything about it.

  “Hey,” I say, my voice huskier than I mean it to be.

  “Hey,” she half-whispers back.

  “So. You’re working here now?”

  Jenna blinks her eyes in surprise. “Yeah, I guess so. How did you know?”

  “I, uh…” I shrug. “I suggested it to Angel. After Jewel got hurt.”

  “Oh.” Jenna looks flustered, like she doesn’t quite know what to make of that. “You did?”

  Frankly, neither do I. Oh, yeah, of course I suggested it to Angel. At the time, it just seemed like a practical solution to a mutual problem. But that was when Jenna still seemed kind of… abstract. Now, with her here in the flesh, right in front of me… Well, let’s just say, I’ve never been much of a one to resist temptation. And this, right here? This is a fucking temptation. And I brought it on myself.

  “Yeah,” I continue nonchalantly. “It just seemed like it made sense. Angel said you were back in town, and that you were having some money troubles, so…”

  Jenna’s expression changes, in the space of an instant. Her jaw sets, and her eyes flash. She’s embarrassed, and more than that, she’s pissed.

  “Great. Glad to know my life is and my problems are something everyone feels entitled to know about,” she says sharply, giving a short, sarcastic laugh. “But I guess it was probably obvious anyway. Why else would I accept a job in a place like this?”

  Fuck. I feel bad. Jenna’s always been proud. She doesn’t like people to see her weaknesses. I know
that much about her. I wish I could take my words back, but of course it’s too late for that.

  Instead, I pretend to be angry myself, to take the focus off her. “What do you mean, a place like this?” I retort. “You think you’re too good for the likes of us?”

  It seems to work, at least a little. “No, that’s not what I meant,” she says quickly.

  “Sure it is,” I continue. “You think we’re just a bunch of criminals. The lowest of the low.”

  “No!” She rolls her eyes in frustration. “It’s just that…” She pauses.

  “It’s just that what?” I prompt, crossing my arms.

  “I just…” She’s flustered now, and her blush heats her skin. I resist the urge to reach up and slide my thumb along her jawline, to see if it will make her blush more.

  “I’m sorry, you’re right,” she finally admits. “That was rude of me to say. I don’t think badly of the club. I just…” She sighs, looking defeated. Well, I guess I was hoping to find a job other than bartending for once. I guess I’m just frustrated that I have to basically take a charity job with my brother’s club.”

  “It’s not charity,” I say gently. “We really do need a bartender. Just so happens, you fit the bill and you’re free.” Her face looks dubious, and I decide not to push it. I try to change the subject. “How’ve you been?” I ask her without thinking, and then realize I’ve just put the focus right back on her and her troubles. Smooth.

  She laughs softly. “Okay. I mean, apart from the obvious.”

  “You look good,” I say, because it’s true. Her blush just gets deeper. Fuck, she’s just as goddamn gorgeous and sexy as I remember her being. More, actually. What I wouldn’t give to back her against the bar and have my way with her right now.

  “Thanks,” she murmurs, looking down. “So do you.”

  Aha.

  “Hey, Ghost!” yells Beast from the back. “Get back here and settle a bet for Tank and me.”