Reverence: MC Romance (The Davis Chapter Book 3)

by Lynn, Davida

  Stuffing my bra into my back pocket, I threw my T-shirt on. I never thought I’d be cockblocked by another biker. Romero and I stuck to the shadows as we got closer to the parking lot. After we rounded a corner, a single headlight bathed the front of the batting cage. The nets kept us out of view as we crept closer. Seeing the sweat glistening on Romero’s back was almost too sexy to handle, and I had to keep reminding myself that we were in real danger.

  He leaned around the corner of the batting cage, quickly coming back. Romero whispered, “Ain’t one of mine. Must be yours.”

  Switching positions with him, I peeked around the corner. At first, the light from the motorcycle blinded me, but my eyes adjusted after a few seconds. A man kicked around in the dust while walking a circle around Romero’s bike. The dim light that fell on him illuminated the back of his cut. He was a Devil’s Brancher all right. The familiar design on the back of his cut jumped out immediately.

  From behind, I couldn’t tell who he was. I knew the bike wasn’t my dad’s, and I thanked God for that. If he had caught me in the flesh with a member of the Rising Sons, all hell might’ve broken loose. I squinted, waiting for the man to turn around. When he did, my heart stopped.

  It was Ty. In that moment, I almost wished it had been my father. Ty was beyond protective of me, and he hated the Rising Sons just as much as my father and Gage. As if he knew where we hid, Ty yelled out in our direction, “Julie! I know you’re here somewhere.”

  I closed my eyes tight as Romero whispered to me, “Maybe I should go out there and talk to them. Man-to-man. If he’s a reasonable guy—“

  There was a crash of metal. My eyes flew open in time to see Romero’s bike rocking on the ground. Ty had kicked it over. “Don’t know whose bike this is, but fuck them! Come on out and make this easy on yourself, fuckstick!”

  I turned to Romero. “I can’t go out there. He’d never believe any story about that bike. We should run. He doesn’t know I’m here. Please, let’s just go.”

  The look of stoic determination in Romero’s eyes told me everything. There was no way Romero would let it go. Ty had disrespected him by disrespecting his bike. Bikers were hot, beefy bad-boys, but they weren’t good with anger management. There was fire in Romero’s eyes; a fire that I couldn’t extinguish.

  He stood up, ready to confront Ty. I grabbed onto his wrist, pleading with him, “Let it go. Let it go for me. We were going to leave. Romero, remember that!” As he walked past me, there was no point whispering anymore. “Please!” I cried out, maybe to him, maybe to Ty, maybe to no one at all.

  Romero went anyway, oblivious to my words. My next effort was to try and plea with the man from my father’s motorcycle club. If Ty really cared for me, maybe I could get him to back down.

  With my hands up, I ran from behind the corner. I hurried between the two men. “Ty, I need you to call down and just listen. There’s nothing wrong here. I know my dad sent you to find me. Maybe he didn’t tell you exactly why I left the way I did, but if you listen—”

  The veins in his neck throbbed in the lights that guarded the parking lot. His nostrils flared as he cut me off, “Doesn’t matter why. Maybe it did before I showed up here and seen you running with one of the motherfucking Rising Sons. Unless you tell me he kidnapped you, we have a serious fucking problem here.”

  From behind me, Romero spoke, “Listen here, you little cunt. Don’t you fucking speak to her that way. If you don’t care why she ran, you’re no better than him. You’ve got the fucking balls to knock my ride into the gravel?”

  I didn’t even want to turn around and see Romero. I could hear the fury in his voice. Then out of nowhere, he laughed like a madman. “I’m gonna let it slide. No, really. You do one small thing for me and I’ll forget this whole thing happened.”

  I turned around. “Romero, please.”

  Now it was Ty speaking behind me. “Julie, you best step aside.”

  I was being pulled into different directions while doing everything I could to keep these two men from killing each other, and I was doing a shitty job at it.

  Romero laughed again. “First, you’re gonna pick up my bike. Then you can eat a handful of gravel. I want you to know the pain Betsy feels. Do it, and I’ll let it slide.”

  I spun around. The bike’s light glimmered off the knife’s blade in Ty’s hand. “No. It doesn’t have to come to this. Put the fucking knife away.” Ty didn’t even look my way. He took a step forward, like I wasn’t even between him and my boyfriend. I was sweating, and my heart was at full speed.

  “Bring it, motherfucker.” Romero sounded like a mental patient.

  Ty took another step, and I had no choice but to step to the side. The two men were going to settle things the way that only they knew how: violence. It was the world I had grown to love, but I had rarely seen.

  I never went with the Devil’s Branch on raids. I rarely saw the fights; just the aftermath. I’d learned first aid from watching my mother clean the men up when they’d came back to the Devil’s Branch headquarters. I’d practiced my skills when I was old enough to keep a needle steady in my hands. Seeing the violence in front of me was something completely different.

  I screamed for them to stop one last time, but neither Ty nor Romero took notice. In their world, everything but the other man had faded away. In the headlight of Ty's ride, the two bikers squared off.

  Ty swung at Romero, and my boyfriend barely slid back in time to avoid the blade. I covered my face first, unable to watch any longer, and then I turned away. There was nothing I could do to stop them, and I knew that things would only end with one of the men going down. I couldn't comprehend something happening to either of them. Ty was like my second older brother.

  And Romero. In a few short months, he and I had grown so close. Before Ty arrived, I was about to have sex for the first time. I pictured myself with Romero forever, and I didn't want to see him hurt…or worse. Pain and anguish filled me up, and tears fell from my closed eyes.

  Grunts and heavy breaths echoed into the night. I clamped my hands hard over my ears and slid down against the gate to one of the batting cages. As the men fought, the place that was special to Romero and I was turning into a nightmare. I never wanted to come back again.

  A nearby crash forced me to open my eyes. When I turned around, the two men tumbled over Ty's motorcycle. The headlight shot upwards as the wheel tilted, flashing me in the eyes and blinding me for a split second. I brought a hand up to block the light. The two men struggled. One of them muffled a cry. Then the movement stopped.

  My feet were frozen. My heart somehow found the power to beat even harder. I stared at the two men, both looking so limp. I stared, thinking that somehow they were both taken from me. My heart broke, feeling like it pounded out its last beat. My were eyes blurry from the tears pouring from me as I wailed.

  “Oh god, oh god, no!” The words came from somewhere deep inside of me. My mind still couldn’t pick a side. It didn’t matter who was hurt, something very bad had happened.

  I was finally able to break the ice on my body. I ran toward the twisted remains of motorcycle and men. One of them grunted. As I leaned down, I could see Romero’s head shifting side to side. He pushed himself up with a slow movement. A guttural noise came from his lips when he righted himself. I put an arm around his swaying body.

  “Oh god, I thought I’d lost you.” I could barely get the words out.

  He wiped a hand across his forehead. Romero’s smile was tinged with pain. “Can’t get rid of me that easily. Help me roll him over. I have a bad feeling.”

  I bent down and helped Romero pull the heavy motorcycle from on top of Ty. He didn’t react or move at all, and once the bike was up in the air, I saw that the knife was sunk deep into Ty’s side, just below the shoulder.

  I covered my mouth with my hands. In that moment, I wanted to scream, but nothing came out, not even a breath. I don’t remember falling, but when I woke up, the first things I felt was the gravel beneat
h me and Romero’s arms around me. The physical pain was nothing compared to the agony inside my head.

  “No. No. Tell me he’s not gone.”

  Romero didn’t answer, he only shook his head. He didn’t need to speak. Ty was dead. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t blame either man. Maybe I could blame outlaws in general. Or maybe I could blame motorcycles. Even though I was a wreck, I knew pointing the finger would do no good.

  My brow furrowed, and I nodded. “What now?”

  When you’re part of a motorcycle club, 911 is never the answer to that question. There’s a different option for outlaws. Every club knows a guy; some disgraced doctor or some talented vet. If it’s too late for that, they know a different guy who is good at making problems go away.

  I didn’t know who the Rising Sons fixer was, but I assumed he’d be the one to get the call. The anguish was fading. It was quickly being replaced by cold, business-like thinking. Romero and I had to look out for each other. I had done what I could to stop the fight, but now it was time to face the consequences.

  Romero looked from me to his motorcycle. “Fuck. When we went over the bike, he must’ve fallen on the knife. I didn’t do this, Julie.”

  I tried to calm my speeding heart, but I couldn’t control my pulse or my racing words, “I know you didn’t. Romero, I know you didn’t. We have to get rid of the body, though, don’t we? The bike, too. We can’t leave them here.”

  The pain had been replaced by numbness, and when I felt my fingertips tingling, I thought the numbness might take me over. Romero must’ve seen it on my face, because he grabbed my hands, forcing me to look him in the eyes.

  “We leave him. There’s no way this doesn’t come back to the club. If his body disappears, they’ll come after us anyway. We have to go now.” Romero stood, pulling me to my feet. They were shaky at best. “Somebody else needs to find him. The police need to get involved, so it buys us some time.” Romero righted his bike and fired it up.

  I stared at him, doing all I could to stay standing. “Buys us time to do what?”

  He turned to me, regret painted on his face. “Prepare for war.”

  I sat cross-legged in Romero’s shower, the hot water raining down from above. Despite the knob pointing all the way towards H, I was shivering. I knew it wasn’t from the temperature. From the night’s event, I didn’t know if I’d never be warm again. The horrible events washed over me. It didn’t help that I was alone, but Romero had work to do.

  He was heading to the Sons’ base of operations. He knew the second that Ty died, the Rising Sons would be blamed. There was no avoiding the fact that we would both be pulled in opposite directions if a war got started between the Sons and the D.B.s.

  Romero didn’t tell me what he would say to his club. I don’t think he was protecting me; I think he honestly had no idea what he had in mind. If I had to go back to the Devil’s Branch with similar news, I wouldn’t have had any idea what to say, either. I brought my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. Romero and I were truly and utterly fucked.

  Every now and again, my phone would vibrate on the vanity. I knew who was calling, and I wanted to answer less each time it rang. It was either my father or my brother, but it wasn’t my dad or Gage. It was a member of the Devil’s Branch. Family wasn’t calling; business was calling.

  The business of death and destruction. That was my family’s business. It was Romero’s, too. I knew a war was coming, but I didn’t want anything to do with motorcycle clubs after the dust settled. There was no good to come from them.

  I cursed the water as it began to cool off. Just as I was beginning to feel a little warmth return to my bones, the shower started giving out on me. It wasn’t just about the heat. With the door to the bathroom and the shower curtain closed, I felt a hint of safety. Romero had to leave me alone in the house. He promised that he’d be back as soon as possible, and I believed him. I had no choice. I felt like a refugee.

  I wrapped a large towel around my body after stepping from the shower. With a hand towel, I wiped off the mirror and looked at my distorted reflection. I really was a woman without a home. There was no way I could go back to the Devil’s Branch, and as the daughter of the Devil’s Branch president, I wasn’t exactly expecting a warm welcome from the Rising Sons.

  Romero was a smooth talker, but it was going to take all of his skills to convince his club to stand up for us. The reflection stared back at me, every bit of color and clarity seeming to have vanished.

  With Romero gone, I was left alone with my thoughts. I had nothing but time to think about the roller coaster that was my life. For every great thing that happened, there was some tragedy close behind. Every high came crashing down. I shook myself out of the funk. I needed to do something to occupy my mind. Luckily, Romero’s place was a mess.

  After throwing on a T-shirt and pair of shorts that I kept at Romero’s, I started tidying up. With a little bit of music going and my hands busy, some of the numbness and confusion subsided. I knew there were many questions left unanswered, but until Romero got back, they would remain that way. There was no need to get myself worked up. I did that enough. It was time to start changing the way I lived.

  Romero was gone just long enough for me to start worrying. The Devil’s Branch would be out looking for anyone associated with the Sons. Every second that went. by I was sure that they had found him. Hearing a motorcycle pull into the drive, I peeked through the curtains. My hopes were that it was Romero, but it could’ve been a biker from either gang. My heart eased when I saw his familiar aviators.

  Once inside, he got right down to business, saying, “They want to meet you.”

  My heart pounded in my chest. What good could come of that? “Oh God, why?”

  “Well, for one thing, they want to make sure you are on the level. They’ve heard your name, but nobody knows you. They don’t generally fight for someone they haven’t met.” Romero must’ve seen my worry because he smiled “And they want to meet the girl who stole my heart.”

  I had to smile. As usual, Romero could make me feel better after almost anything. “Really?”

  He pulled me close, planting a hard kiss on my lips. My knees went weak against his strength. When he broke the kiss, I slowly opened my eyes. He bit his bottom lip in a way that made me quiver. “Really.”

  My nerves were shot as we drove to the Watering Hole, the bar that the Rising Sons called home base. They weren’t my enemy, but for the past six months, it had been drilled into me by my father and the Devil’s Branch. Romero had given me a little pep talk to try and calm me, but the closer we got, the tighter I held him on the back of his chopper.

  The place reminded me a lot of the bar that the Devil’s Branch called home. It had the same hole-in-the-wall feel that was probably designed to keep most of the weekend warriors away. It was a simple building, but you knew right away it was a biker hangout. The sign was barely visible, and it looked like the site of more than one scuffle. Anticipation was getting the better of me when Romero parked his bike next to at least a dozen more. A dozen bikers inside waiting to meet me, grill me, and judge me. Just fucking perfect.

  After taking off the helmet that Romero insisted I wear when I rode with him, I gave him my best let’s get this over with smile. “Hey, I know this isn’t easy for you. You probably feel like Dorothy just after the tornado drops her in Oz.”

  I looked around at the collection of custom bikes and painted Harleys. True, I had felt a little black and white earlier, but red and orange flames and colorful pin-ups weren’t exactly the Merry Old Land of Oz.

  I shook my head and rolled my eyes at Romero. “Yeah, something like that.”

  “Just stick by my side and answer their questions. I promise they won’t be too harsh.”

  I heard the indistinct chatter of voices as we got closer to the door. As soon as we pushed through, though, the voices all died away in an instant. A dozen bikers looked at me as if I were the Devil herself. They we
re tattooed, bearded, and all wearing the Rising Sons’ cut. On top of all of that, they looked pissed as hell. I might as well have been my father in that moment. I saw hatred, disgust, and even lust. I couldn’t blame them for being angry, but they were animals.