by A. J. Downey
“I want to die,” she moaned, her voice muffled where it was buried in her arms on the tabletop.
“Tequila?”
“God, no, I really would be dead if it was Dragon’s tequila. This is a bourbon hangover.”
“Ew, no good.” She looked up, propping her chin on top of her folded arms.
“How you been?” she asked, “You know, other than your friend?”
“Heard about that, huh?” I asked softly and stared out the front window.
“Hard not to, Babe. Small town and an even smaller club, plus my man was the one fixing the hospital records to cover Doc’s ass.”
“Ah, thank him for me, would you? I would hate for that doctor to get in trouble. Delia didn’t really have any family worth anything. We, uh, we were sort of each other’s family.” I choked up and sniffed and Mali nodded.
“Same for me and Kyle now. Um, Data is his road name. If it weren’t for the club, we’d be the only family each of us would have.”
I nodded. It seemed like a lot of misfits and strays found their way here. Mali smiled and nodded when I said as much, though super quietly.
“We are nothing if not the outcasts of the rest of society,” she said with a gusty sigh. “Honestly, fuck them anyhow. They don’t know how to really live. These guys?”
“Totally do,” I agreed.
I’d noticed that about everyone here. They were all vibrant and full of life. That life may not be easy by most of the rest of society’s standards, but in my opinion, the rest of society didn’t necessarily know what they were missing.
“Here they come,” Mali said, staring behind me.
I turned around to a bunch of boulders in black leather piling through the archway from the back. Some of them were shivering and bouncing in their black motorcycle boots, some of them blowing into their hands.
“We need to get that chapel built,” one of them griped. “It’s too fuckin’ cold to be standing out there jawing like that in this kind of weather.” He was tall and had dark hair and I wondered fleetingly if he was Maren’s Nox.
“You could always take your happy ass back to Arizona,” one of them grated, a man with long brown hair in a loose ponytail down his back, just starting to gray at the temples.
“Shut up, big brother,” the dark-haired one muttered.
Nik came in through the back and I felt myself perk up. He didn’t see me sitting here with Mali, and instead went into the kitchen first. He scanned the room out here next when he didn’t find me in there, and spotting me, lifted his chin. I gave a nod and he headed my way.
“I didn’t even see you disappear,” I told him, smiling to try and take any perceived accusation out of my comment. I added, “I was so wrapped up in I was doing that when I looked up, I hadn’t even noticed you’d gone.”
“You know you don’t have to do that with him, right?” Mali asked.
“Do what?” I felt my smile falter.
“Stroke my ego,” he said. “Craft what you say around my feelings. Only insecure douchebags need that.” He pulled a chair from another table and dropped onto it, leaning forward against its back.
“You can have mine,” Mali said. “My man’s back at the controls.” She jutted her chin past Nik and he and I both turned. The black curtains blocking the view inside the little glassed-in fishbowl had been whisked aside, revealing a wall of TV’s and monitors, computer towers and keyboards. A man stood inside talking on a cell phone and waved Mali towards him. She went and kissed him decadently, dropping into his lap after he sat in a rolling desk chair.
He kept an arm around her as he typed one-handed, like it was as natural as breathing. I couldn’t help but smile at the genuine love between them. They had a partnership and it was easy to see. As effortless as breathing.
“How are you holding up?” Nik asked. “And, sorry I got called away.”
“It’s fine, really, that’s all I meant by saying it the way that I did.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Silence lapsed between us and he studied my face finally saying, “You didn’t answer the question.”
“I’m doing as well as can be expected, I guess,” I said, swallowing hard.
He nodded and reached out, covering my hand with his. I gripped his fingers and drew breath to say something when a female voice from the kitchen shrieked at the top of her lungs, “Breakfast!”
Light chuckling swept through the men and women standing around talking in small knots and people just naturally fell into a single-file line to move along the bar buffet-style.
“Stay here,” Nik said, low and soft. “I’ll bring you something.”
“Thanks,” I murmured back and he winked at me.
Before he could get back to me, Trigger and another man I didn’t know pulled up a chair each.
“How are you doing?” Trigger asked. I bit my lips together and tried to decide how to answer and he grunted saying, “That good, huh?”
I let out an explosive breath and said, “Yeah, that good,” and it sounded miserable even to me.
“I’m Ghost,” the other man said, and I looked him over. Compact but well-proportioned, he held himself like a cop or a military guy and shoveled food in his face like a prisoner. If I had to guess, I’d say some flavor of former military and the eating habits could be from the same or because of some kind of ex-con status. Delia had waxed on about the club’s reputation in the criminal world so I was betting ex-con, but then again, a lot of these guys were seriously surprising my preconceived notions.
“Tiff,” I answered him, and he gave me a nod.
“You’re not harassing the woman are you?” The platinum blonde, Shelly, dropped into the chair Mali had vacated and suddenly the two-person table was seating five. Or would be as soon as Nik got back.
“No, wife of mine, I’m not. I just sat down and managed to introduce myself.”
“Oh, well, good,” she said and winked at me. I pulled the hair tie off the end of the braid Hayley had put in my hair and ran my fingers through it, shaking it out and combing it over the scarred half of my face.
“You got any plans today?” Trigger asked.
“No, not really,” I answered.
“Feel like trying some more shooting? We got a range out back. Might be a good distraction for you.”
I nodded, “Okay.”
“Oi!” Nik cried, “I go to get my lady something to eat and nek minute every one and their dam cuz moves in on her? What the shit is that?” His tone was light and joking, and Trigger and Ghost both laughed quietly and tried not to choke on their food.
“What?” Shelly asked. “She’s the new shiny object for this lot of ravens.” She winked at me and I smiled back a little nervously. While I was used to being the center of attention at work, I wasn’t really equipped to deal with it in my personal life. At work, I wore a persona, slipped on the personality of Francesca like a second skin. Out here I was just plain, old, boring, Tiffany and for the most part, I liked it like that. The extra attention was especially hard because of Delia… God, poor Delia.
I stared down at the plate that Nik put in front of me and took the fork he offered with a murmured, “Thanks.”
He squeezed my knee under the table and I forced a smile and looked over my plate with much trepidation. I wasn’t hungry at all. Whatever appetite I’d had had completely fled.
30
Zeb…
“Are you flinching?” Ghost asked her and she nodded. “Well, stop flinching,” he said and she looked a bit taken aback, but I could see her think about it and by god, it worked. She wasn’t flinching every time one of the guns cracked off. I smiled to myself and wished everything was that easy. If it were, I’d tell her point blank things like well, stop being afraid, and stop being so hard on yourself.
Right now, she was listening closely to what Ghost and Trig were telling her, and while they were at it, I was standing in line with Archer, Rush, and Nox, having a go at some target p
ractice of our own. I didn’t fancy getting shot again like I had last year. Right in my leg, trying to help Data and his girl. That had been one hell of a firefight, I tell you.
Tiffany’s fingertips sometimes traced the scar as she lay across me, but she’d never asked about it. There were a lot of things she didn’t ask about me and I didn’t think it was disinterest so much as street smarts on her part. There just were some things you didn’t ask about, but then again, I think she and I were past the awkward phase of our relationship. Still, I had to be careful with club business. Club business was just that, club business. Not girlfriend business and not even ol’ lady business. Certain things you just kept to yourself, as much for your safety as the safety of your bros, not to mention the peace of mind of the girl you were with.
I know that Tiffany knew I was a man capable of violence, but I wasn’t entirely sure she realized that she was, too. Everyone was, it just required the precise set of circumstances, like a lock-and-key setup. The circumstances had to be the right set of teeth to move the tumblers aside to unlock that potential in a person. Everyone had a lock, it just was a fraction of the population that ran into the right trigger or key to make things move and subsequently, things to happen.
“Good, job,” Ghost said, squinting downrange.
“Did I hit it?”
“You sure did,” Trigger said. “A decent shot, too. Now let’s see you do it again so we can rule out luck.”
“Okay.”
She took aim and sighted and cracked off a shot, and though she hit the paper, she missed the black. Still, she managed to hit the target at all, which was an improvement in and of itself.
“To be fair, I don’t think you’d be this far away from whatever you were shooting at,” Ghost said.
“Probably not,” Shelly agreed from behind us all. “I wasn’t.”
“No. No, you were not,” Ghost grunted and shook his head.
“What do you mean?” Tiffany asked. “You shot someone?”
“Yeah, he attacked me in our kitchen. I was home alone. I got the gun out of the drawer Ghost kept it in and he was pretty much on top of me when I blew his head off.” Tiffany blinked and Shelly gave her a sad smile, “It was him or me and I wasn’t about to get raped a second time.”
“Me, too,” Tiffany said softly and sighed. I stood up a little straighter and focused on her.
“Silas, during our relationship. I didn’t know it was really considered rape. You know, the old-fashioned backward ideas –“
“Oh, believe us. We know,” Shelly said cutting her off. “You don’t have to explain yourself, honey. It happened and we believe you.”
Tiff nodded and explained anyways, “I didn’t realize it until I started my schooling in social work. We have a series of classes about dealing with trauma and sexual assault was a big chunk of it. Reading other survivor’s stories really clued me in.”
“No shame in it,” Ghost said and Tiffany made a face like he was an idiot and I tried not to laugh.
“I know that now,” she said. “Took me a while to get there, but it happened and it’s a part of me now, like so much else he did.” The steel and determination were back in her voice, that iron will to not be a victim anymore.
“Sorry,” Ghost said.
“Sorry I snapped,” she apologized. “I’m still working on a lot of it.”
“That’s what matters, eh. That you’re dealing with it,” I said and she turned to me and nodded slightly.
“Enough of this heavy shit,” Archer grated, and put out his cigarette. “I’m gonna go find something and kill it, anyone want to come?”
“Deer or wild pig?” Rush asked.
“Human,” Archer answered, and stalked off with his bow. As a felon, he tried not to carry a gun anymore at all. He had two boys and Melody, now. Said the last thing he wanted was to let them down by getting picked up on a weapons charge and that sticking to his namesake unless shit was dire was good for him.
No one argued. We all knew just how proficient he was with that compound bow of his. A silent killer, nine times out of ten you never saw or heard Archer coming. He’d come by his road name honestly, that one.
“I’m in,” Nox declared, his gaze lingering on the deep scar marring my girl’s cheek.
“Not without me, you ain’t,” Rush declared.
“Check in with Dragon before you do anything,” Trig called. Archer waved over his shoulder as he, Rush, and Nox trudged back down through the snow toward the back of the main clubhouse.
Tiffany starred off in the direction of the target she’d been shooting at and asked, “Do you really think they’ll find him?”
“Yep,” Trig said, loading a fresh magazine. “If Dragon and Reaver haven’t already, or Data.”
“What will they do when they find him? Just kill him? Just like that?”
“That’s not for you to know, Sweetheart,” Trig said.
Ghost went to Shelly, kissed her gently and said, “Come on,” putting an arm around her bundled form and leading her back to the club.
“I have to see him,” Tiffany said. “I need to confront him.” She sounded almost desperate like the thought hadn’t even occurred to her that this would just be done without any involvement on her part.
“I don’t make the rules, Baby. I just enforce ‘em,” Trig said and sighed.
“Well, who does make the rules?” she demanded.
“Dragon,” I told her. “Or rather, he proposes them and the club puts it to a vote. We make our own rules.”
“What Zeb said,” Trig agreed.
She looked upset but she was thinking, calculating, and finally let out an explosive breath.
“Do you know when he’ll be back?” she asked bleakly.
“No, I do not,” Trig said and handed her the gun. “One more time and then you need to go inside and warm up.”
She sniffed, her nose running from the cold and nodded; she wasn’t about to pass up any sort of practice when it came to anything that would keep her from being victimized again, but at the same time, I knew that look. The conversation about her participation wasn’t done and I wasn’t looking forward to being at odds with her on this.
I wanted her safe, but I also understood it was hard for her to trust. The fact that I had gained her trust as quickly as I had felt like a bit of a miracle, but at the same time I understood it. She was a lone canoe, cast adrift in a raging storm and she was being swallowed by a sea of emotions. Still, she was fighting to stay afloat harder than I’d seen anyone fight before and I admired her for that.
Her struggle was real, and I didn’t want to be yet another thing she felt like she had to struggle against. Fuck me and the position I felt like I was in. My loyalties were being torn between my club and this fierce, wounded woman.
I watched her carefully take aim and really work on her aim and was proud of her. She finished the clip and squinted downrange.
Trigger nodded slowly and said, “Much better. All you need is focus. We’ll work on some more tomorrow. Right now you need to take a rest and get warm. People don’t realize that shooting takes a lot out of you. You’ve had about as much recoil as you should take for one day.”
“Thank you,” she said, and I could tell she was emotional by her tone.
“You’re welcome, and I wouldn’t worry about him anymore. Have a little faith. You got more people in your corner than you know.”
“I’m realizing that,” she said gently. “And I can’t tell you how grateful I am for it.”
“I get you,” he said with a nod and then with a smile said, “Go get something warm to drink. Like to be freezing my balls off out here.”
She smiled and confessed, “Can’t really feel my fingers or toes anymore.”
I was with her on that one. “Hot shower then?”
“Mm, maybe,” she replied and took my hand. I let her lead me back towards the outbuilding that housed my room and even with the bone-deep cold, my dick started to get hard just thin
king about her in my bed.
Once inside my bedroom, Max jumped off the bed and slunk under it. Tiff looked slightly hurt, but I lifted her coat off her shoulders and hung it up on the back of the door for her. I hung my jacket and cut up beside her coat and took her thick gray scarf. She rubbed her hands together and huddled in on herself slightly, and I sighed.
“Come here.”
She came to me and I folded her into my arms, against my chest.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said.
“Me either,” I confessed. “Stuck between a rock and a hard place on this one.”
“How so?”
“Loyalty to the club and my love for you.”
She leaned back sharply and stared me in the face, eyes wide and almost disbelieving before she said, “You really mean that.”
“I do.”
“Pretty sure that’s rushing things,” she said and I laughed but she cut it off by grabbing both sides of my face with her chilly fingers and smashing her mouth over mine, going up on her toes to do it.
I pulled her body close to mine, winding my arms around her lower back, my hands on the ass of her jeans urging her up. She gave a little leap and wrapped her legs around me and I strode over to the bed, laying her on it.
We kissed and shoved cold hands under clothes, jerking and laughing into one another’s mouths as we tortured each other with icy touches until our hands warmed up. Clothing came off bit by bit and the look in her eyes when I peeled off her socks and braced her cold feet against my bare chest to warm her frozen toes was one of soft wonder. I covered them with my hands and rubbed the life back into them, and she just watched me, her eyes misting slightly.
“No one has ever taken care of me like you do,” she said, her voice carefully steady.
“About time someone did, innit?” I asked, and she nodded slowly.
“I guess, I mean, I don’t really know.”
“I do, and it’s way past time,” I said and let her feet go, climbing up her body and laying over her, pressing my mouth to hers again.
We were down to our underthings and it was still far too many clothes. I needed her nude and writhing under me like a starved man needed food. I let my hands glide over her soft skin, learning her body by touch as well as sight, breathing deep her light scent like freshly fallen rain on new spring leaves. She was all things sunshine and warmth on these cold dreary days and I couldn’t help but warm my soul by her.