by Debra Kayn
"Look, I'm sorry." She pressed her hand to her stomach. "I'm okay. I want to go with Chief. Can we talk about this later?"
Lindsay and Ashley nodded. She swallowed, needing to focus forward and not behind her.
"Okay, I'm going to take off." She held out her arms. "Do I get a hug or anything, or are you guys hating on me right now?"
Lindsay hugged her tight. "Be careful."
"I'll be fine." Nothing would happen to her when she was with Chief.
"I won't tell Olin. But you're going to have to explain to me how this happened and when." Ashley stood from the bed. "Blink once if he's forcing you to go with him."
She fluttered her eyelashes and smiled. Having grown up with the girls, they often carried their childhood habits with them through the years. "I'll either see you sometime tomorrow, or I'll call you. I don't have to work until Monday, so..."
"Okay," whispered Lindsay, following her out of the room.
Chief was gone from the living room. She walked out the door and found him sitting on his motorcycle in the parking lot beside her car. She ran down the walkway and slid on the seat behind him. He handed her a helmet. From experience, she had the strap firmly connected under her chin and held on to him by the time he pulled out into traffic.
Adrenaline hyped her. She alternated between squeezing her arms around Chief and rubbing the outside of his vest over his abdomen to reassure herself that he was here. He'd bridged the boundaries that had existed between them.
The fact that he was here, loving her, staying with her, filled her with confidence that her feelings were valid and returned. He had struggled to stay away from her for years. Years. Her whole life.
At least it felt like she'd waited forever.
The doubts over if she'd ever receive what she wanted and needed came and went. Hope only fortified within her when Chief came around and gave her attention to hold on to during the times he spent away from her. He made her strong and in the next second made her weak.
An addiction that made it impossible to be happy without him.
Reaching the Brikken property, the gate opened at Chief's arrival. Johanna, looking forward to being invited into Chief's life in a way that had always remained separate from her. She paid no mind to the frantic activities swarming around the clubhouse or the extra people present at three o'clock in the morning.
Chapter Eleven
Johanna walked into the bedroom upstairs at the clubhouse. Chief followed her, aware of Jett and Keeffe behind him waiting to ride out with him. His meeting with Komoon exploded forty-five minutes into the talks when the Feds surrounded the old warehouse where the two motorcycle clubs gathered to throw out threats and accusations trying to find out who was responsible for the confiscated shipment of bikes Brikken sent south.
Ignoring the others waiting for him, he captured Johanna's face and forced her to focus on him. "You'll stay here, for now."
Her brows lowered.
"I need to leave and take care of business." He bent his knees to look at her closer. "Olin and Thorn will watch over you. Step up and take your place, bug. I'll be home late tonight if everything goes okay."
"You're leaving me?" She tugged on his vest. "But, I thought—"
He ran his thumb over her lips, let go of her, and reached into his pocket. Before he'd left for the meeting at the beginning of the week, he'd paid his last visit to Karla.
Picking up her hand, he placed the key he carried with him in her palm. "Wait until I get back, and I'll escort you to the house you lived in with Karla. For now, I want you to stay on Brikken property while I'm gone."
Her fingers curled over the key, and she raised her gaze to his eyes. Everyone would know she belonged to him if he put her in one of the houses he owned. He'd protect that right if it killed him.
Nobody would take her away from him.
"Karla?" she whispered, holding her gift in her fist.
"She's moved on."
She frowned, looked off to the side of him, and then back to him. "Can I talk to her?"
"Maybe someday." He inhaled deeply and brought her to his chest. "Right now, she wants nothing to do with me, you, or Brikken."
Through the years, Karla had stayed strong on her opinion that Chief's greatest weakness was taking Johanna from the apartment. Her consequences for him if he acted on what she suspected was happening between him and Johanna never wavered. Being faced with her new position, outside of his life, Karla believed Johanna was a bitter reminder of the control he had over the club, of her, of Johanna. And, Karla decided to walk away from Brikken.
Johanna's pain reflected in her gaze, sobering her excitement of him retrieving her from the apartment. He turned to Jett and Keeffe and motioned them out of the room.
Alone with her, he kissed her deeply and whispered, "Stay on the property."
She nodded. "You'll be safe?"
"I'm going to do what needs to be done." He tilted her chin. "You happy?"
"I will be when you come back." She sucked in air and turned her head to look at the bed. "I'm confused and don't know what all this means."
His chest tightened. She'd expected him to bring her back here and fuck her.
Taking her fist, holding his gift, he kissed her hand. "You've always belonged to me, bug. As soon as I get back, I plan on taking what's mine."
She raised to her tiptoes and kissed him softly, stroking his beard. He swept her up into his arms and stepped over to the bed, plopping her down. Taking the blanket at the foot of the mattress, he brought the cover up and tucked her in the same way he had hundreds of times over the years.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead as she yawned. "Sleep."
She tucked her fist under her chin and gazed at him, trusting and more mature than her years. He patted her covered hip, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Keeffe waited for him. He lifted his chin. "Get Olin and Thorn to watch over her. Spread the word that any son of a bitch that thinks to lay a hand on her while I'm gone will find a knife in his heart when I return."
"On it, Chief." Keeffe hurried ahead of him and disappeared down the stairs.
He stopped, gazing back at the door that protected Johanna. The empire Rollo started with twenty members and grew to two hundred before Chief took over and expanded to almost three hundred members was for Johanna. As it had been for Chief's mom when Rollo created the patch and swore his life to Brikken.
Like father, like son.
Finding the woman who strengthened him, gave him a desire to survive the game, and stayed loyal to him was the only way he'd stay alive. It'd helped his father until Rollo let grief weaken him. Hell, Rollo lived twenty more years than he should've during those wild early years. Chief huffed in amusement. His dad had been a fucking cat with nine lives.
Ruckus from downstairs floated up to the second level of the clubhouse. He continued on, ready to get rid of any threat to the business he'd diligently protected to support the family.
AT LEAST A HUNDRED Komoon members greeted the hundred and twenty-five members of Brikken Motorcycle Club riding into the deserted parking lot in front of a closed restaurant off Interstate 5, four hundred miles south of Tacoma—halfway to Klamath, California. The halfway point that he hoped like hell the Feds wouldn't find out about before they had a chance to meet.
Chief rolled in first, leading his MC brothers, and spotted Spooner, Komoon's president. He remained loose, prepared for anything.
Stopping his motorcycle, he raised his hand in the air, and his members circled the group around the others much like a wagon train bedding down for the night.
Within two minutes the engines shut off, and an unnerving hush filled the area. Chief got off his Harley and walked forward with Keeffe to his left, Chano and Freddy on his right. Behind him, Jett, his own blood, covered his back while the rest of the riders stood ready for anything.
"Good ride?" Spooner walked forward meeting Chief in the middle of the circle of motorcyc
les.
He gazed at the Komoon men lined up facing him. "As expected. It would be nice if the Feds didn't interrupt our meeting today."
"We haven't seen or heard anything."
"Any headway with our mutual contact over the line?" he asked.
"Despite the...setback, the remaining members have acquired a building, twenty miles outside of the city. With a skeleton crew, I looked closer at Komoon to see if it was possible the leak came from our side..." Spooner dipped his chin. "We've had two transferees within the last three months coming up from our headquarters."
"Did you find anything?"
Spooner sniffed. "A phone in a bunk."
Keeffe, Freddy, and Chano pulled out their pistols. Chief held his hand out to his side, stopping them from making a move. Rage filled him. The whole operation was put at risk because of a president's laziness. Spooner should've had better control over his men. In-house transfer or not, the men should never have been involved or privy to the information.
"Where are they?" Chief held the other president's gaze. "I want them."
Spooner lifted his hand and motioned without taking his eyes off Chief. In his peripheral vision, two bodies were dragged out and left between the two clubs. He walked over and toed both men.
Dead.
There was no way for him to identify them or gain possession of the proof of their betrayal. He blamed Komoon. Whether information slipped out under the president's watch or their contact down south, a working chain at the magnitude he'd built was only as strong as the weakest link.
To change the people involved at this point would mean a devastating hit on Brikken and their survival. They'd have to start over. New contacts. More meetings. It could take years.
He lifted his gaze from the dead men to Spooner. "I warned you from the start how this would run."
"I took care of the problem."
Chief gazed around him. "And, three-quarters of your men are circle jerking behind bars. Your defense is down."
"We can handle the shipments."
"I have no guarantee," said Chief.
"My word and our past."
Chief inhaled through his nose. "I'm cutting Komoon down to fifteen percent return until you have your men back."
"We can't survive—"
Chief withdrew his pistol. "Take it, or our agreement ends, and we take out every motherfucker here."
Every member of Brikken aimed, and Spooner flinched, holding his hands out in front of him. Chief stepped forward, aware of Komoon members armed and ready to retaliate against an attack.
He faced death unafraid. This was his life, his family, his legacy.
Chapter Twelve
Olin charged out of the clubhouse, letting the door slam behind him. On the couch, Johanna turned to Thorn, perplexed by the outburst. The only time she'd ever witnessed Olin blowing up and getting mad was years ago when Karla had grounded him from his motorcycle after finding pot in his room.
"What's wrong with him?" She glanced over at the pool table where Olin had been playing only moments ago.
Thorn dangled a beer bottle between his knees. "He mentioned Ashley cutting him off earlier. Maybe it dawned on him that most of the women are staying away from the clubhouse tonight because the majority of the members are gone, and he can't get a pity fuck."
"Why would she break up with him?" She leaned to the side and took her cell out of her back pocket.
Neither Ashley or Lindsay had texted or called today.
"Don't know." Thorn drew from the bottle. "She's your friend, not mine."
One of the things she loved about being friends with Lindsay and Ashley was the fact they were all hers. They had no connection to Brikken, besides Ashley recently dating Olin.
While she never confided in them about her feelings toward Chief or her past, they accepted her for who she was since she was eight years old. Lindsay and Ashley were her dose of normal she relied on to always be in her life, in one way or another.
"I'm going to call her." She stood, walked outside, and pushed the connect button.
Ashley's voicemail came on. She hung up without leaving a message and called Lindsay. That, too, went to voicemail. Becoming concerned, she sent them both a text message.
Slipping her phone into her pocket, she searched for Olin and found him talking to a group of bikers. She jogged across the field and slowed as she approached their conversation.
D-Con, Skidd, Domino, and Greggy turned toward her while Olin was slow to notice her. She ignored the others and waited for him to look at her. When his gaze flicked over her as if she wasn't even there, she grabbed his arm and turned him.
"Can I talk to you? Alone?" She tugged.
He shrugged out of her clutch. "Busy."
"It's about Ashley," she whispered.
"Still busy." Olin pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. "Why don't you go ask her all your questions?"
"Because I can't get ahold of her."
He exhaled smoke out of his mouth. She blew straight air. Her frustration level rising, she refused to let go of him.
"Girl trouble?" Skidd whistled in amusement and hooked his hands underneath her armpits. "You need to lock that down, man. Nobody has time for that."
"Ashley's probably fucking someone with a bigger dick." Greggy laughed. "Tired of trying to get off on that little pecker of yours, Olin."
Olin's cigarette went flying, and he lunged, tackling Greggy. She jumped out of the way of their flying fists, her heart racing. No stranger to fighting, the Brikken men often spent their free time drinking and fighting as entertainment when they weren't working or on the road.
Skidd stepped on Greggy's arm, holding him on his back. "I'll put a ten spot down that Olin breaks his nose again."
"Twenty says they're both getting off on rolling together." D-Con held his bottle out and clinked it with Domino's drink.
"Stop it." She stepped closer, pulling on Olin's leather vest. "Greggy's bleeding."
Olin's wild gaze came around to her, and he shoved off Greggy, breathing heavy. She pushed him back and held her arm up in case Greggy charged. "Take a walk with me."
The roar of approaching motorcycles distracted her from getting to the bottom of what caused the fight. She let go of Olin and walked forward, stopping when the prospects opened the gate for the riders to enter Brikken property.
The first biker rode through. She rubbed her bare arms at the onslaught of chills.
Chief.
He'd returned.
His long, wind-whipped hair blew behind him. He downshifted. The rumble settled deep in Johanna's stomach. Every time he came back riding on his Harley, he seemed bigger than life, an empowering tower of strength.
Untouchable.
She swallowed hard. Except, he'd always been available to her, and he no longer fought their attraction. Her stomach fluttered, and her body tightened, trying to contain all the emotions swirling inside of her.
Knowing Chief would park at the head of the line, she used some of her extra adrenaline to hurry toward the clubhouse. The hours had dragged on today as she waited, expecting him to arrive. It was now past midnight. He'd been gone longer than he'd told her.
Only two other women waited at the door with her. Monte's wife and Strawman's woman. Her attention contained to Chief, she hugged her middle. He moved slower than normal and his usual guttural shouts as he instructed his members was missing.
Chief's hulking frame slid off the bike, and he talked quietly with Keeffe. She waited, knowing club business came first, no matter how much she wanted to wrap her arms around him and reassure herself that the last time Chief was with her, he'd made promises she never expected.
He'd laid their relationship out in the open when he'd placed the key in her hand. She had a hard time believing it was true when he wasn't standing right in front of her.
There were unanswered questions that needed addressed. If he planned to treat her like Nene and only see her on a set schedule, she'd go b
ack to the apartment. She wanted all of him or...well, nothing wasn't an option. She'd fight for the rest of her life to have all of him.
Chief turned away from Keeffe and scanned the crowd, his gaze stopped when they landed on her. Her stomach flip-flopped, and she couldn't refrain from walking—running to him.
He caught her. She buried her face in his neck, letting his whiskers tickle her cheek.
She squeezed him. "You're home?"
He hitched her higher with his hands on her ass and walked. "Yeah, business is done for now."
Excited, she kissed him, thrusting her tongue out to meet his. If she had any belief that she was in charge, he dispelled that notion taking the kiss deeper in front of everyone. Her legs tightened around him, and she pressed her breasts against his chest.
The same frantic desperation that he'd left her with swarmed around her. Thrusting her hands in his hair, she loved on his tongue. The velvety softness caressed and warmed her, and she wanted closer.
Inside the clubhouse, he set her on her feet breaking the kiss. Under the lights, she stared up at him, unsure of what was expected of her but knowing what she wanted.
Having never questioned him or found out his desires for how he lived his life, she'd settled on dreaming about being the only woman who received his love, wholeheartedly, in every part of his life.
Chief grabbed a bottle of whiskey off the sidebar and returned to her, putting his arm around her shoulders and taking her toward the stairs. She wrapped her arm around his back. Elated that he'd come to her and held nothing back, she let her love shine through.
She hugged him as he walked up the stairs. "I'm so glad you made it back in time to go to bed with me."
He glanced down at her. "Do you think we're going to sleep?"
Her foot caught on the step, and she stumbled, holding on to him. "I-I hope not."
"You hope not?" He chuckled. "That's my bug."