by B. B. Hamel
He laughed again, kissing my neck. “You got a lot to learn, Caralee.”
In that moment, there was so much possibility.
I couldn’t wait for him to teach me.
Chapter Six: Ford
I woke up early, a hangover headache tingling my skull, to the morning sunlight streaming in through my living room window.
What the fuck did I do last night? I thought to myself as I sat up.
And then it all came rushing back: Caralee showing up, her story, the look on her face, the way my body reacted to seeing her again.
The way I claimed her in front of the whole damn club.
Damn girl was trouble. I sat up, grunting, and walked into the kitchen. I put on some coffee and leaned up against the counter.
The whole thing was fucked. I didn’t much care about the guys that were after her. I’d dealt with plenty of fucking biker cunts in my time, left more than a few blood-stained and splattered on the road under my wheels. I could protect her no problem, and I actually looked forward to it.
I wanted another fucking war. I wanted some fight, some excitement to break up the boring as fuck club business. I wasn’t built for peace, never was.
I had a reputation in the club, and for good reason. Nobody loved to fight and fuck as much as I did.
No, the real fucking problem was the claim. I hadn’t thought it through at the time, and now in the sober light of the morning, the full truth of that was finally hitting me.
I’d had no other choice. I had to claim the girl or else risk letting Clutch and Spoil throw her ass out. I couldn’t let that happen, not when I knew her, not when I still remembered the girl she used to be.
“Morning.”
I turned my head and saw her leaning in the bedroom doorway, arms crossed, wearing one of my sweatshirts.
“Morning,” I grunted. “Who said you could wear that?”
She shrugged. “Didn’t seem to matter.”
“Coffee’s on. You cook?”
“I can cook, yeah.”
“Make us some breakfast then.”
I poured myself a mug and sat down at the table, watching her. She stared back at me for a second before walking into the kitchen, opening up the refrigerator, and getting to work.
Soon the little house was full of the smell of cooking bacon and eggs. I watched her work, curious about how the fuck she’d fallen in with an idiot biker like her dead friend. From what I remembered, Caralee was a good girl, a college girl. She’d gotten out of town, far away from her drunk asshole dad. She had made it.
And yet she had still somehow fallen in with the wrong people. Now she was in my kitchen cooking me breakfast, but she probably had no clue how much trouble she was in.
I was that trouble. I watched her body move and felt a stirring again, my cock getting hard. I wanted to bend her over the damn table, fuck her rough and deep, make her beg me to keep going, make her come. Maybe she owed me that, in some ways. But I wasn’t the type to just take a girl like that, not like some of the fucking sick shitheads I knew.
No, I wanted her to come to me. I wanted her to beg for it before I finally took it. And it was looking like I’d have plenty of time to make that happen now that I’d claimed her.
She finally put out two plates of bacon and eggs and sat down across from me.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Sure.” I dug in. Food was pretty damn good.
“I mean, for saving me. Last night.”
“You ain’t saved yet, princess.”
She picked at her food. “What do you mean?”
“We have shit to do. And we’re not sure who offed your friend yet, either.”
“Rod,” she said softly.
“Rod. Whatever.” I took a big sip of coffee. “How’d you end up with a scumbag like that?”
“By accident,” she said. “He had a bike and I like riding on them. He used to bring me to biker parties sometimes too. That’s how I found your place.”
I nodded. “You said that last night.”
She looked surprised. “I did? I guess my memory is a little hazy.”
“You were in shock.”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “I guess so.”
“So he just brings you to some drug deal or whatever the fuck?”
“I think he was in love with me,” she said. “He was probably trying to impress me.”
“How’d that work?” I asked, smirking.
“Not good. He’s dead now.”
I laughed. “Hard to love a dead man.”
She gave me a look. “Don’t be an asshole. Rod was a good guy.”
“Was he? Or was he just another biker-trash asshole?”
“You mean like you?” she snapped, standing up.
“Yeah, guess so.”
“I don’t know why you’re being a dick this morning,” she said, shaking her head, “but I want to go home now.”
I stared at her for a second. “You think you’re going home?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
“You forget why you came to me? Those guys know who you are.”
“I’ll go to the police.”
I laughed. “And be an accomplice to a murder? Go ahead.”
She stared at me. “So what am I supposed to do?”
“We’ll figure that out today, princess.” I finished off my coffee and stood up. “Come on,” I said.
“Where are we going?”
“Your place to get some of your shit.”
“For what?”
I grinned at her. “Haven’t figured that out yet, sweetheart? You’re staying with me for a while.”
She just stared at me hard, and I relished the look. Defiant, angry, scared, and so fucking sexy.
She lived in a little piece of shit apartment right off the University of Texas’s campus. She lived alone, as far as I could tell, and her place was a fucking mess.
“Be fast,” I grunted at her.
“Okay.” She disappeared into the back room as I looked around her place. It looked pretty typical: paintings and pictures on the wall, pictures of friends in frames, but none of her father.
I hadn’t seen anyone hanging around outside of her place, but that didn’t mean they weren’t watching. I would have been surprised if they had found her so fast, though. Bikers weren’t exactly known for their fucking smarts, and overall that was true. They’d find her eventually, though.
I walked over to the front window and peeked outside. Nothing there, just my bike parked against the curb and the slow trickle of young students wandering around.
“How much do I need, anyway?” she asked.
I turned back and looked at her. She tossed my sweatshirt at me and I grabbed it.
“I don’t know,” I said. “A week’s worth, I guess.”
She had changed into a tight V-neck T-shirt and short jean shorts, her hair piled up on her head. I couldn’t help but stare at her breasts, not really bothering to hide it, and she didn’t seem to mind.
“A week?” she asked. “That long?”
“Don’t know,” I said again, looking away. “Couldn’t be less, could be more.”
“Fine.” She disappeared back into her bedroom. “By the way,” she called out, “I remember something from last night.”
“Yeah?” I called back, watching the outside. “What’s that?”
She came back out. “You said something about me. Something about ‘claiming’ me?”
I glanced back at her. “Yeah, that’s right.”
“What’s that mean, you ‘claimed’ me?”
I sighed. It was the damn conversation I had been avoiding since she’d woken up, but I knew we’d have to have it eventually.
“Means technically you’re off limits. You’re mine.”
“Okay, but what exactly do you mean by that?”
“You’re my old lady,” I said, annoyed. “My woman. You get it?”
She smiled awkwardly. “Like, we’re dating?”
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“Not exactly,” I grunted. “More than that.”
“Explain it then.”
I turned back to her, crossing my arms. How the fuck did I explain this to the girl? She didn’t know anything about our club, about our ways. She didn’t know what it meant when I had claimed her and she didn’t dispute it. It was way too late to back out now.
“More serious than dating,” I said. “When you didn’t dispute it, meant you were accepting it.”
“Why would you do that?” she said. “We don’t even know each other.”
“The guys in there, they would have thrown your ass to the wolves in a second to maintain their precious peace.” I turned away and looked out the window. “You wanted protection, so you fucking got it. Just comes at a price.”
“And the price is being, what, owned by you?”
“Something like that,” I mumbled.
“What happens if I say no?”
“Too late now,” I said. “Whether you like it or not, I claimed you, and there’s no going back until I say so.”
“Then say so,” she snapped. “I’m not yours. I’m not anybody’s.”
“You want that?” I asked. “You can have it. But that means you don’t got no protection. The other clubs, if they know you’re claimed by me, they might be a little more willing to not murder you.” I paused and looked at her again. “Without me, though, you’re on your own.”
She glared at me hard for a second, and I just smiled back, relishing her gaze.
“I don’t like this,” she said finally.
“You think I like it?” I asked. “Claiming you means something for me, too.”
“Whatever,” she said, and she went back into her bedroom to finish packing.
I let her stew in there and kept watch at the window.
She still didn’t really get it. Claiming her meant more for me than it did for her. I was responsible for her now, committed to her. The club didn’t have many rules, but it did hold its members to some fucking standards. When you claimed something or someone, that meant she was off limits to every other horny fuck in the area, but it also meant you were committed to her and were expected to keep your dick out of any other snatch.
Which was not something I fucking liked. But I had made my choice, and I wasn’t the type of man to go back on my word, even if she didn’t understand what that meant.
She came back out of her room after another minute, lugging a bag behind her.
I raised an eyebrow. “That’s for one week?”
“Yeah. Got an issue?”
“Might not fit in my place.”
“Too bad,” she said.
I laughed and walked over to her, grabbing the bag from her hand. “Allow me.”
She made a face. “Don’t strain yourself.”
I laughed again and followed her out of the apartment and down the steps. We went out front to my bike, and I took a few minutes to lash the damn bag to the back. She stood by, her arms crossed, looking more annoyed than anything else.
If only she understood what I was doing for her, maybe she wouldn’t be so testy.
Ah well. Didn’t much matter. The girl would learn.
I was a willing and able teacher.
Chapter Seven: Caralee
The ride back to the Demons clubhouse wasn’t as relaxing as most other rides on the back of a bike.
I was way too busy thinking about what Ford had said, and what it all meant.
My head was still a bit dizzy and slow, but I was beginning to come back to myself. I realized that I had been in pretty bad shock when I’d stumbled into that clubhouse, and hadn’t been thinking at all. At the time, I’d thought it was the only thing I could do, the only thing that could protect me.
Now, though, I wasn’t so sure I had made the right decision. What had I given up to get Ford’s protection, and what did that mean for me?
As we sped through the city, my hands clinging to Ford’s muscular body, I couldn’t stop imagining what he was saying to me. We were somehow together now, although I barely knew the guy. I was definitely still in danger, and he made it seem like by claiming me he was committing himself to keeping me safe.
I hadn’t seen Ford in so long. As soon as I’d seen him, though, the memories began to come flooding back from when we were kids. His arrogant smiles, the occasional comments. The night by the lake, the way he made my body feel.
And the way he completely disappeared right after that.
Now he was back in my life, appearing like a whirlwind, and he somehow owned me.
Well, that pissed me off. He had disappeared on me back then. He’d made that choice, not me. I’d wanted to see him again, but he’d had different plans. I hated feeling like just another one of his conquests, but that was probably the truth.
Still, it didn’t make sense that he’d stick up for me like that. Maybe he wanted more from me. Maybe he wanted to find out what he could have had from my body back then if he had stuck around.
Well, there was no way he was getting that. I didn’t care if he still made me feel like a teenager, if my heart pounded in my chest and my pussy got soaking wet when I gripped his body riding on the back of his powerful motorcycle. It didn’t matter if he thought he owned me.
I was going to stick around for as long as I needed for this all to blow over, and then I was done with Ford Cook.
We tore through the city limits and finally pulled up out front of the Demon Nest, the bar that served as the clubhouse for the Demons MC. Ford parked the bike and climbed off, killing the engine. I followed him, not really sure what we were walking into.
“Aren’t the other guys pissed about me?” I asked him.
“Sure,” he said. “But Larkin approved my claim. They can’t do shit about it unless they want my boot on their skull.”
“Who’s Larkin?”
“The club president,” he said.
“Oh. So like, the leader.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, the leader. Come on.” I followed as he pushed open the door and went inside.
The place was packed. I was completely shocked at how many men were in there, every single one of them wearing the Demons cut. Their jean jackets were covered in patches and slogans, but the backs were all dominated by the Demons symbol.
Every head in the place snapped toward me as soon as I walked in the door. Ford grinned and held his hands up. “Morning, brothers,” he said.
There was a general murmur. I caught the eye of the guy named Spoil from the night before, who just looked disgusted. I followed Ford to an empty table in the back.
“What’s going on?” I asked him.
“Looks like Larkin called in the boys.”
“Why?”
He grinned at me. “Because of you.”
I stared around me. These terrifying men were all gathered together because of me?
“But I thought he approved the claim.”
“He did,” Ford said. “But that don’t mean anyone wants a war. My guess is we’re here to hash out what the hell we’re supposed to do with you.”
I felt a cold drop of terror fall through my chest and into my stomach. The men had mostly all looked away and gone back to their conversations, but I could feel their eyes keep coming back to me.
And they didn’t look happy.
I’d never been in a room full of pissed-off bikers before, with only one man on my side. True, he was big and imposing, terrifying in his own way, but still only one man.
Maybe I really had bitten off a little more than I could chew.
Ford noticed the nervous look on my face. “Don’t worry,” he said, grinning at me. “You’re fine. You’re mine now.”
That sent chills of excitement all through my body. I wasn’t sure if I was reassured or simply attracted to him.
Before I could say any more, a man walked out from the back room and stood in front of everyone, close to the bar.
“Larkin,” Ford whispered to me.
I nodd
ed at him. I recognized the man from the night before. Graying hair, longer and thinning, but muscular and covered in tattoos. He wore thin-rimmed glasses that somehow made him look even more menacing. He surveyed the room impassively, neither smiling nor frowning, just basically looking.
“Shut up,” he barked finally, and the room went silent. “You all know why we’re here.”
“Yeah,” the man named Spoil said, “that bitch.”
All eyes snapped to me.
“Yes,” Larkin said. “The girl. And Ford.”
Ford grinned. “You got me there, prez.”
“But not just them,” Larkin continued, drawing the stares away. “We’ve grown fat and fucking happy, haven’t we boys?”
Murmurs of agreement.
“Been nice, being at peace,” Larkin continued. “Been fucking nice reaping the rewards of our blood, sweat, and fucking piss.”
More agreement from the crowd. I could instantly see why Larkin was their leader. He seemed tough, but he sure as hell seemed to know how to control a room.
“But here’s the thing, boys,” he said. “There are those out there that want what we fucking got. The Mezcals been pushing up from Mexico, the Rebels been fucking with our western territory for months now, and I’ve heard whispers of the Snake Spit coming in from Dallas.”
More murmurs, but this time angry, annoyed. I looked at Ford and he gave me a small smile. “More to us than just biker jerks, eh?” he said softly.
I looked back at Larkin.
“I chose to let Ford lay claim to the girl,” Larkin said. “I made that choice for a reason. We been fucked with too many times. We need to begin to protect our own, to show that we can’t have any killings on our fucking territory without our say-so.” He stared down all of the men, especially Clutch and Spoil. “And so here’s the deal: We’re going to hunt down the fucks that done the killing, and we’re going to put lead in them.”
A general cheer of agreement came from the men. I couldn’t help but get swept up by it.
“Ford made his choice with the girl, and that’s his damn ass. We all know what it means to lay claim to a woman, and he did it freely. So that’s on you, Ford, but also on me.” He stared out at the men again. “Nobody questions the girl or Ford, because the truth is, we were already at war well before that girl came to us for help.” Another long pause. “Prepare yourselves, boys. Blood is coming.”