“Jase,” Lee said, but stopped when Jase turned and nailed him with a glance.
“No, man. I give a hundred-fifty-percent on the ice every single game. I do the extra assignments along with the rest of the team, show up ready to go at practices, gladly lead, even during loss slumps. My commitment and dedication to the team are above reproach. But that’s where the team ends, where the game ends. My life is my own, and if they don’t like it…well, they can cut me. Put me on fucking waiver.” He turned and jogged across the park towards the parking lot.
“Jase.” Lee chased after him. “It’s not like that.”
“No? That’s funny, because it sure sounds like that from here. They gonna dictate what color boxers I wear, too? How about what flavor condoms I use? Have at me, then. But wanna know what I think? Wanna know where I think we’re going with this? Judgmental asshole. Cut me.” Jase made a dismissive gesture, sweeping Lee’s unspoken words aside. “Fuck. This.”
He continued jogging towards the lot, taking a moment to plug his earbuds in, turning the music up loud. He laughed aloud when Like A Storm’s song Love The Way You Hate Me began to play. Definitely fitting, he thought, listening as the words reminded him it was worth it to stay true to what he knew was right, and being associated with people like Mason was right. He knew that…no doubts.
The Rebels were people who… What had they done that suits would have knowledge of and consider a crime? Was it because they had supported his girlfriend and sister unconditionally? That they stood beside a grieving woman for years, selflessly giving so she had time to heal? That they spent tirelessly of themselves to make life better for so many people? No, the Rebels dared to live their own lives without worrying about fitting into society’s normal categories. That was their crime. Fuck the suits, he thought.
He climbed up into his truck and listened to the song again, looking across the lot at the man standing there, someone he thought was his friend. A man who had just judged him based not on his own values and qualities, but on some kind of jumped-up, unwarranted, biased bullshit he heard from fucking suits who lived a world away. Men who would never know the value of a friendship like he shared with the Rebels. I’m the only one who has to live in my own head, he thought. I’m the only one who knows what’s right here. Reaching out and viciously twisting the key, he started the truck and drove home.
Could be more
“Now these are the kinds of events I don’t mind getting roped into,” Jase spoke to Lee from his position nearby, both men leaning casually against the wall. He felt the distance that had begun dividing their friendship over the past week and realized he missed joking around with his friend.
“Yeah,” Lee said, “the kids are awesome. The setting, not so much.” Jase nodded in agreement. “I wanted to apologize, Jase,” he told Jase quietly. “I was out of line. I checked things out after what you said and you were on target. While there might be some shadows there, the man is not what the league painted him to be.”
Looking at him, Jase saw the sincere regret on his face and nodded. “I appreciate it, but you don’t have to worry about it, man. I just don’t care what the league thinks about my friends.” He shrugged. “Mason’s solid, and he’s been a very good friend to me. You have to meet him to understand. He put together a charity drive with the club that raised more than seventy-thousand dollars for this wing of the hospital. That’s only part of the stuff they do. There is a holiday toy collection and a couple of events throughout the year for veterans. It’s a club, not a gang, and they are all good men.”
Lee nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, I get that I was wrong. I’m sorry.”
They looked around at the open-plan room, painted in vibrant, cheerful colors. Filled with clusters of chairs and sofas, the room was also dotted with wagons laden with precious cargo. The team had several community outreach activities every year, many of them children-related. Last month, they had gone to local schools and read to classrooms full of bored third and fourth graders in order to promote literacy. Today, the visit was to the local children’s hospital, hanging out and chatting with the kids in the cancer ward.
Jase stiffened, his gaze focusing on a man across the way. Seated in an armchair next to a boy who looked about fourteen years old, he was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. The grey-bearded man was also sporting a black leather vest with familiar patches sewn onto the back. Jase knew the man, as well as the kid, and he was abruptly sick with fear, because he knew what them being in this room had to mean.
Jase strolled across the waiting room, coming up behind the man. The boy glanced up, and recognizing their visitor, crowed, “Jase, hey there. Good to see you.”
“Tyler, how you doin’?” Jase stepped over to him, reaching to grip his shoulder, leaning down to touch his forehead to the boy. He stepped back, turning to look into Bingo’s face, seeing what looked like sullen resignation on his features. He had lost a lot of weight and didn’t look good. In fact, he looked under a great deal of strain. “Bingo, man, haven’t seen you in a while.” He reached down a hand, surprised when Bingo stood, pulling him into a firm, one-armed clench. His back was thumped three, four, five times, and then he was shoved roughly back.
“Jase,” he muttered, sitting abruptly, his motions somehow disconnected. “How’re things, man?”
“Good, good. Game is good. Not to jinx myself, but personally, it’s been an excellent season. Plus, me and DeeDee are official. Finally got her to admit she can’t live without me, so I’m set for life, man.” He smiled, glancing at Bingo’s nephew. “You get any autographs yet, kiddo?”
“Naw, I didn’t bring anything for them to sign.” Tyler looked down at his lap, fiddling with plastic tubing taped to the back of one hand.
“Well, we can’t have that. My friend going without autographs on what is arguably the easiest day to acquire said autographs? No freakin’ way…because me? I gotcha covered, my man. We hockey players might not have all our teeth, but we got things to sign.” He lifted a hand, getting Lee’s attention, miming holding up something between his two hands, pinching fingers and thumbs together. Lee nodded and turned to one of the team’s media assistants. When he spoke to her, she reached into a bag and pulled out a bundle of fabric. He argued with her a minute and she reached into another bag, pulling out a mini-hockey stick and another bundle of cloth. He made his way to where Jase sat next to Tyler, uncapping a marker on his way. Tossing one of the bundles to Jase, he nodded at Bingo, but focused on the young man.
“Hey, kid, what’s your name?” he asked, standing casually in front of them.
“Tyler.” The boy breathed his own name and said more loudly, “You’re Duke It Out Dugger. Oh, my God. Next to Jase, you’re my favorite player!”
“Ouch,” Lee pretended to grab his heart, “that stings, Tyler. I guess I should be honored I made runner-up to Mr. Popular here?”
Clearly afraid he had hurt the hockey player’s feelings, Tyler attempted to backpedal, “I didn’t mean it like that, Mr. Dugger. I like you a lot. Like…not a-little-lot, but a-lot-a-lot. I just know Jase.”
Lee finished signing the mini-stick and handed it to another player striding past. “Sign this and circulate it. Make sure it gets back to Tyler here, okay?” The player nodded with a smile for the boy, pulling his own marker out of his pocket and scribbling on the wood as he walked away.
“Now, for the big guns.” Lee scrawled his signature on the back of the item he held in his hand, then he flipped it with great showmanship, revealing a jersey with the team’s logo and a ‘C’ on the front. He turned the garment, showing Tyler his signature, name, and number on the back. “Boom! There you go, kid. Wear it and wish me luck, okay?”
“Oh, my God. A signed Leeland Dugger jersey? Are you serious right now? Are you serious? You’re fu—messing with me, right? Don’t be messin’, man. That ain’t cool.” Tyler’s eyes were dancing, and Jase grinned. He didn’t think the boy even realized he corrected himself barely before dropping a
n f-bomb in the hospital waiting room.
Tossing it to Tyler, Lee put his head back, laughing. “I’m not messin’ kid, but am I your favorite player now?”
“Yessir, Mr. Dugger.” Tyler’s head was nodding so fast Jase thought he could feel the breeze from where he was sitting. He reached out and jerked the marker from Lee’s hand, turning the jersey in his lap over and signing on the back, next to his number.
“You gotta wish me luck too, Tyler.” He handed the jersey over and laughed at the wide eyes the boy turned on him. “I’ve known you longer, so I think it’s only fair I call dibs on being your favorite. I don’t care how pretty the Duke is; I got dibs.” Tyler was speechless, looking from one man to the other, then down to the two jerseys in his hands.
Glancing at Bingo, Jase caught a look of such sadness washing over the man’s face that it killed his next breath in his chest. Turning his face away, Bingo’s jaw tightened and clenched, his lips pressing into a hard, thin line as he struggled to retain his composure.
Lee noticed and asked the boy, “Tyler, are you mobile? Ya wanna meet the Lady Tridents?” He turned and pointed to the team’s cheerleaders, dressed in their team-matching short dresses and leg warmers, leaning against the far wall.
Looking up at him with a broad grin, Tyler nodded and stood, taking a small shuffling step forward, clutching the two jerseys to his chest. “I’m mobile, just not fast.”
“Dat’s okay; we can go as slow as you need, my man. These beautiful ladies aren’t going anywhere.” Lee wrapped an arm around Tyler’s shoulders, steadying him under the guise of pulling him close for a whispered secret about the cheerleaders.
“Bingo, want to go get some coffee?” Jase stood, reaching out a hand. “Lee’s got your boy. He’s in good hands.”
With a sigh, the grizzled, older biker reached up, accepting the wrist clasp offered to pull himself to his feet. “Coffee’d be good,” he muttered, raising a hand to wave at Tyler, receiving an older-than-his-years chin lift in response.
Seated across from each other in the cafeteria, Jase looked at Bingo, seeing a weariness and exhaustion written on him that was so profound it seemed to seep from the man’s pores. Taking a page from Mason’s playbook, Jase simply said, “Tell me.”
They sat in silence for a minute, but then Bingo jerked as if kicked and settled back into his chair. Looking up, he fastened his gaze on Jase and nodded.
"Boys ain't supposed to have titties, ya know? We didn't know what was going wrong when he started growing titties. First doc said his T-levels were low and they didn’t know why. Fuck, I didn’t know what a ‘T-level’ was until then. That doc sent us to another doc, who then sent us to another doc. Fucking round robin of referrals. Last doc sent us here for tests. Brought Tyler for the tests, and they say it's cancer. Did you know his mama died from cancer? I hear the word, and all I can think is Dammit, we don't need this, too. After all those kids have been through, they don’t need this shit." Bingo sighed.
“What kind of cancer does he have?” Jase didn’t know what else to ask. This was uncharted territory for him. Sharon’s beating was the first time he ever saw a family member brought low by an accident or illness.
“Testicular. He had surgery yesterday; should have already been home, but they wanted to keep an eye on him a little longer.” Bingo blew out a hard breath. “Kid’s a rock, man. He’s fucking solid, worried more about his sisters and brothers than anything to do with himself. Doc told him he had a tumor on his ball, and the only questions he had was if they had to take both nuts and if he could still have kids of his own. Not about how painful it would be, what kind of follow-up poison will they pump into his veins, not about fucking dying from it. He only wanted to be able to have kids.”
Jase shook his head. “Tough guy, or a smart one, focusing on what’s important to him. Sounds a lot like his uncle. What’d Goose say, eh? And what in the hell are you doing here by yourself, Bingo?”
“I didn’t tell Goose. I haven’t told anybody. Don’t want anybody here. He’s my family and I got everything covered.” Picking up the paper cup, he sipped at his coffee and winced. “Damn, this shit is raunchy,” he said, making a face as he took another sip. “Club’s been busy with other stuff. They don’t need me bringing this down on them, too.”
Jase frowned. He knew DeeDee had been tense recently, but she claimed club business to blame, saying it had been dealt with. “What stuff? DeeDee said everything was good.”
“Yeah,” the man answered glibly, “everything’s good. There’s always shit stirring around the club; you know that, man.” He sipped from his cup again, lifting his gaze to Jase’s face. “Hey, I wanted to thank you for taking part in the poker run a while back. I know you ain’t club, but it meant a lot to me, you taking it up like you did. So, thanks.”
“Was my pleasure, Bingo. We raised quite a bit for the hospital, so it seemed like a success. Thank goodness Mason and Tug made sure I minded my Ps and Qs so I didn’t embarrass the Rebels.” He laughed. “I spent the next two days walking funny. Was sore all over. I don’t ride as much as you guys. Weekend warrior, I guess. Birdy called me a waxer once. At least I’m not that bad, eh?”
“Could be more, if you wanted. Just sayin’.” Bingo stood. “I’m headed back upstairs. Tyler’ll be coming home soon. Gotta get my boy healed up.” He turned to look at Jase again. “Thanks for what you did up there today, too. He wanted to go to the waiting room to see you guys come in, but, man…the smile you slapped on that kid’s face? It looked good on him, Jase. I appreciate it.”
Jase clapped a hand on his shoulder as they walked the halls. “My pleasure. Let me know when he feels better and I’ll get you guys some game tickets if we’re still playing. We’ll see how effective Tyler’s good luck wishes are, eh?”
You let me keep you
She pressed her forehead against his, eyes closed, breathing hard. Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol played in the background, the words echoing her feelings; she could definitely spend all her days like this, lying in his arms. “Jase, baby, I love you,” she whispered, glorying in how his arms tightened possessively around her in response.
“That’s just the sexing talking, isn’t it?” he joked, out of breath himself. “I’ll admit it was good sexing, the best. Superlative sexing. I totally loved it, too. Best sexing of my life, totally enough to get you to whisper sweet nothings in my ear, eh?”
She shook her head, laughing. “You know, you could give me a complex, mister. If I were a less secure person, less confident of your love, saying things like that to me could make me nervous. It’s a good thing I know what love looks like, and it’s lying right here in bed on top of me.” She tipped her chin up, kissing his lips, and then tightened her legs around his hips as he made to shift off her. “No, don’t move. Don’t leave me. That wasn’t me complaining. Not a complaint at all, I love being this close to you. Don’t leave me.”
His head dropped forward as he rubbed his cheek against hers, lips nibbling on her earlobe. He shifted, moving one arm so he could cup the back of her head. Using that grip to tip her head backwards, he slowly kissed down her neck. He left behind a trail of tongue touches and lip presses that burned her skin with arousal even now, after he had just taken her with wild abandon. He whispered, “I’m not leaving you ever, DeeDee.”
Her hips tilted in response, back arching as she felt his cock hardening inside her again, and she found his passion for her still had the capacity to amaze. “I love you. Mon amour, ma belle. Je t’aime, DeeDee. So much, baby.” His mouth moved across the skin of her shoulder. “So much. My life. My lover. Mine.”
His body bowed as he shifted to one elbow, cupping her breast with his hand, lifting it to his mouth. She drew in a short breath, panting as his lips and tongue worked and rolled her nipple, his long fingers kneading the flesh. She took another inhalation as the sharp sting of his teeth registered, followed quickly by the comforting warmth of his tongue sliding across the puckered peak.
; Rolling his hips, he pressed his length deeper inside her, grinding his pelvis against her clit, dragging a low moan from her lips. Pressing his upper body up and away from her, propped on one elbow, he used his free hand to cup her face, thumb dragging across her lips. Her eyelids slipped open partway and she watched his face as his gaze moved from her eyes down their bodies to where they were still joined. With a sense of satisfaction, she saw a look clearly filled with love cross his features before his eyes met hers again. Then, when his eyes darkened, gazing into hers, it was with lust, which brought its own happiness, knowing she aroused this feeling in the man.
Reaching up, she dragged the backs of her fingers across his cheek, saying wonderingly, “Out of all the world, you picked me.”
He leaned in to kiss her lips, murmuring as he moved his mouth across hers. “No, baby. That’s backwards.” He set a slow, deep, rolling rhythm with his hips, thrusting in and out, and the tantalizing drag against her inner walls and clit had her gasping. “I found you. You shone so brightly. Amazingly dazzling, standing out from all the world had to offer as distractions…I found you. Then, oh, God…then you let me keep you. Je t’aime, baby.”
Babies
DeeDee stood in the kitchen, leaning one hip against the cabinet, lifting a mug of coffee to her lips. She was worried, turning things over in her mind, because so many things were in flux in the club right now.
Bear had been MIA for weeks, and no one seemed to know why, or at least they wouldn’t tell her. She had become close friends with his mother when they were all working together on Ruby’s wedding, and she had been calling and checking daily to see what she could do to help. He adopted four kids a few months ago, the children of a former Rebel member, and now Maggie was trying hard to keep everything together for them. DeeDee smiled, thinking, Thank God, she has Tug to lean on. That man has a knack for being in the right place at the right time to help.
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