by Bijou Hunter
“I should have dumped him long before he tried to hurt Freki. In some way, I was just as bad as Griff. I didn’t see him as him. I found excuses for his behavior. When he brought me random gifts that I’d never in a million years buy for myself, I should have wondered why he never picked things I’d like. Instead, I assumed he was just clueless. Men aren’t great at gift giving. When he lost his temper and yelled, I should have worried. But he’s a biker, and you idiots have tempers,” she says, giving me a little smile. “My parents argue. Sometimes loudly. I just kept thinking Griff was like my dad, but I saw qualities that weren’t there.”
“You have an idealized view of your parents’ marriage,” I murmur and smile. “I know the feeling.”
“I often wondered where Griff got Freki,” Soso says, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. “He wasn’t a puppy and was well-groomed. I even questioned if Griff stole him. When I took Freki to the vet for the first time, I was ready to hear he was microchipped, and someone was looking for him. He wasn’t, but I’ve always worried Griff stole Freki from an old lady or one of his side pieces. He gave me a bracelet once that I got the feeling was stolen too. Not from a store but from a person.”
Soso sighs, looking almost embarrassed by her confession. “I ignored those feelings. Even when he started pushing me to do things I didn’t want to do, I found reasons why he wasn’t a bad guy. Then he freaked out on Freki, and I knew he was wrong in the head. It’s normal to get frustrated with your girlfriend. I get that. Plus, I can stand up for myself. But picking on a defenseless creature is sick.”
Soso trails off and shrugs. “I asked myself why I was staying with him. Why make excuses for a guy when there were plenty of others in the world? Besides, I didn’t love him. We’d been together for months. He said he loved me. I couldn’t say it back. I wanted to lie just to get him to stop nagging me, but the words hold too much weight. He still claims I said them, but he just heard what he wanted. Then after the crap with Freki, I really looked at Griff and asked myself how I felt. And the answer was ‘eh.’ I didn’t feel much of anything. We were only still together because I’d gotten used to putting up with him at that point.”
Soso studies my face and then smiles. “You want to know what I think when I look at you, don’t you?”
“No. I’m good,” I lie.
Smiling, she rests the dog next to us before crawling closer to me on the bed. “I think I wouldn’t have let you close if you hadn’t been wasted that first night. I saw a side of you that made me want to see more.”
“But you like sober me too, right?”
“I like every version of you,” she says and then adds, “So far.”
“As compared to Griff?” I ask, needing reassurance. Is she just into bikers? Am I reading too much into her behavior? Is this woman going to tear out my heart and feed it to her tiny dog? I need to know we’re on the same page out loud and not just in my head.
Soso cuddles closer and strokes my head. “I like you more in two days than I did with him for six months.”
“Six months?” I blurt out without thinking. “How could you endure him for so long?”
“I didn’t spend every fucking minute with the guy!” she cries, sitting up and putting space between us. The mood in the room shifts and she asks, “What was the longest relationship you’ve had?”
“Two weeks.”
“That’s what we’ll manage,” she says, her lower lip pushing out into a pout. “But you can visit my bed anytime.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
Soso narrows her eyes. “What does that mean?”
“I think that’s obvious.”
“You thought wrong. I’m too wound up over you to see clearly.”
“I need you.”
“And you plan to stay here?” she asks, giving me a distrustful frown.
“Possibly.”
“And do what?”
“Live off your money.”
Laughing, Soso erases the space she created between us. Now attached to me, she says, “No, really. It’s not like you can join the local club.”
“Not unless I want my mother to go on a murder spree.”
“Who would she kill?”
Unwilling to think of Soso harmed, I lie, “I don’t know.”
Nodding, she returns to stroking my head. “Do you have it in you to go straight?”
My smile fades. “Before I was born, my pop had a dark streak. He did cage fighting in college and got a dragon tattoo on his back.” Hearing about Pop’s ink, Soso presses me forward onto my stomach. I know she wants to investigate the dragon tattoo on my lower back. I got it in honor of my pop, but I wanted mine different enough not to copy him.
“Like this one?” she asks, kisses along my flesh and rousing my dick.
“His is bigger. But he didn’t want a life in crime. Growing up, he was poor and got fucked up by his dad. Pop’s dream was to be normal. He got his suburban, common man life despite the Johanssons’ family business happening around him. Pop became a teacher and is now a principal.”
“That’s a nice story, Bubba, but that’s him. What about what you want?”
I adjust on the bed until we’re resting on our sides, facing each other. Soso craves reassurance. That makes sense. I’m an unknown. A complete fucking stranger who owns her heart.
“What if I said I wanted to stay here with you and focus on construction work?”
“I’d be okay with that.”
“Are you sure you don’t want a biker like your daddy?” I ask as my fingers stroke her scarred shoulder.
“At this point, I think I just want you,” she says and covers herself with a blanket as if for protection. “But you don’t want to go straight.”
“I could.”
“You could do a lot of stuff, but we’re talking about what will actually happen.”
“I want you.”
“Let’s say you have me,” she whispers in a voice stripped of all its strength. She’s laying her heart bare and asking me not to fucking stomp on it. “What happens then?”
“I don’t know.”
Soso exhales deeply and reclines on the bed. “I’d glad you’re honest with me rather than promising lies.”
“Why do you look upset then?”
“I’m going to miss you,” she says, fighting a pout while her eyes threaten tears.
“How, when I expect you to be at my side for-fucking-ever?”
“Let’s see if you’re still so high on us when you’re dressed and we’ve known each other for at least a week.”
I scoot closer until we’re sharing the blanket. Soso cups my jaw while her thumbs stroke my swollen lips.
“That night at the bar, I thought of you as a hunky puppy. You sorta bounced around, and I wanted you to be sweet under all your muscles and tats. You’re so handsome, and I’m a sucker for hot bikers, but I didn’t want you to be like him. I wanted you to be sweet inside too.”
“Do you still want me to be sweet?”
“I want you to be you. Whoever that guy is, I want him.”
Throwing back the blanket, I scoot down on the bed and lick at her stomach. “A puppy, huh?”
Her worry lingers around the edges despite giggling and squirming under my licking tongue. I know fucking won’t fix her fears, but it’ll distract from them until I can prove I’m worth whatever pain the future offers us.
THE BOHEMIAN
My dad’s dark eyes zero in on my throat hickey as soon as he enters the house. Of course, he doesn’t say anything about it. His mind is on Griff.
I kept things simple on the phone. His club brother showed up, threatened to take Freki, and fought with Bubba. I skip the part where I dumped paint on Griff’s chopper or how he chased me around the yard for nearly ten minutes. My father will see those details on the surveillance footage.
“What’s he doing here?” Dad asks after he and Keanu enter my house.
“He was injured during the fight with Griff, an
d I offered to heal him.”
My father allows a small smile. He sees too much of him in me. Yeah, Daddy was proudly pussy-obsessed back in the day. He might not want his only daughter going cock-crazy, but he can’t claim he doesn’t understand the urge to try new things.
“What did you dump on the asshole’s bike?” Keanu asks, having pulled up the footage on his phone.
“Old paint.”
“Should have dumped it on his fucking head,” Dad grumbles.
“This isn’t acceptable,” Keanu says in his cold, killer voice.
“Have you gotten to the part where Bubba comes to my rescue?”
“No, I’m at the part where Griff looks ready to punch you.”
Dad grabs the phone, glares at it menacingly, and then decides Bubba is the bad guy.
“Where the fuck were you when this was happening?”
“Stuck in traffic, sir.”
“Stop calling me that.”
Bubba only smirks at my father’s complaint. I’m unshocked to learn that Johanssons refuse to be easily intimidated.
“How long did this go on?” Keanu asks, still watching the video surveillance.
“I didn’t check my watch. A few minutes, I guess.”
Dad glares hard at Bubba. “You did this.”
“I can see how you’d think that, sir.”
“Asshole,” Dad gripes before grabbing Keanu’s phone. “Where’s the part where Kentucky saves the day?”
I squeeze in between my father and brother. “Is there a way to scan ahead?”
“How much forward?” Dad growls as Keanu speeds us through almost ten minutes of Griff and me circling the lawn.
“It’s coming up.”
“Dammit, Num-Num, you can’t waste that much of your life. Next time, take the shot rather than hoping some idiot from Kentucky will save you.”
“I didn’t have my gun.”
“Well, that was your mistake right there.”
“I thought it was Bubba at the door, and then I was just focused on keeping Griff out of the house and away from Freki.”
Dad and Keanu look at the dog who yawns on cue. He’s never been impressed by them.
“Here it is.”
I smile at the sight of Bubba appearing like a missile strike across the lawn. My gaze finds him, and he looks about as bored as Freki.
“Are we keeping you?” I mutter.
“I’m tired after a strenuous day,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.
Grinning like a fool, I return my gaze to the sight of him and Griff clashing.
“I’ve seen enough,” Dad growls and directs his anger at Bubba. “A lot of men wouldn’t put their ride in danger to protect a woman. Even one who looks like Soso. I respect that you did that, but you’re still a turd in my book.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Dad grunts at how Bubba’s respectful term keeps coming off as an insult. The men eye one another while I focus on my brother.
Keanu holds my gaze for too long. His black eyes ask if I want Griff dead. Years ago, when I thought I was a badass bitch, I went to a party near Nashville. I was thirteen, but my tits had come in, and the college-aged guys were drooling all over me. It was the first time I felt sexy after spending most of my childhood wanting to be a dude like my dad.
One second, I was dancing around, having a ball. The next, my face was pinned against a wall while some guy yanked up my skirt. I couldn’t move. Suddenly powerless, I froze up. I didn’t know how to handle myself in this grown-up situation.
Then the guy was gone from behind me. Turning around, I found Keanu standing casually over the wannabe rapist.
“You broke my ribs,” the guy whined to my brother. “I’m going to call the fucking cops.”
“Good because right now you’re a stranger to me,” Keanu said patiently, leaning over the asshole. “After the police take the report, I’ll have your name, date of birth, and address. With that information, I’ll get the rest of your info. You’ll never again be able to hide from me.”
Keanu didn’t growl like our dad would in such a situation. He spoke calmly. His face seemed more bored than anything. But I’d never seen that icy look in his eyes before.
I learned a lot that night. As a woman, I was vulnerable, no matter how much my father trained me. I could never let down my guard, especially around strangers—a lesson I tossed aside to bring home a hunky puppy days ago.
I also learned my brother was a fucking badass with the capability of erasing people. Despite that guy not calling the cops and instead hobbling out of the party, I noticed how my brother swiped his wallet. No reason to do that unless he wanted to pay the guy a visit.
Keanu gives me that same look now, and I’m not sure how to answer.
“Daddy, how much trouble would it be to kill Griff?”
“I’ll do it,” Bubba says immediately.
My father takes a step toward him and growls, “Stay the fuck away from my club, Johansson.”
“What would it take to make it happen?” I ask Dad while stepping between the two men.
“We’d just need to ask your uncle who will want to take a vote. Camden’s very into democracy since he watched those documentaries about the Revolution.”
“How do you think the club would vote?”
Dad’s expression is the only answer he gives. The club won’t kill one of their own over a relationship tiff. I return my gaze to Keanu. He doesn’t care about club rules, but Griff’s death—or suspicious disappearance—would be a hassle. If a tiny-ass fight at Salty Peanuts riled up tensions between the Brotherhood and Hayes family, I can’t imagine a scenario where Hickory Creek and Mayo Pony don’t battle over a dead patched member.
“If killing him isn’t an option,” I say, and Keanu looks disappointed, “what should I do?”
“You don’t do shit, Num-Num. I’ll handle Griff.”
“How?”
“Embarrass him in front of the other guys.”
“That doesn’t seem like a good plan.”
Dad rubs my head. “No, see, Griff wants approval from his club. No one’s gonna applaud him coming over here acting like a bitch and getting his ass kicked by Kentucky.”
“I did kick his ass, sir.”
Dad’s gaze narrows. “Yeah, until my baby girl had to save your ass with a shotgun. Don’t think I didn’t notice that part.”
“We worked as a team, Daddy,” I say, standing next to Bubba.
Dad narrows his eyes more until he looks asleep. “What is this? What’s happening here?”
“He’s on vacation.”
“In her pants,” Bubba says because all the sex clearly shorted out his common sense.
What he doesn’t expect is for my father to be relieved by the idea that I’m only into Bubba’s heavenly looks and tempting body. If he knew how hard I was crushing on this Kentucky boy, Dad would sic Keanu on the interloper.
But he doesn’t know. That’s why he calmly leaves my house. He focuses on handling Griff. Keanu follows him out of the door, likely planning to share with Cap how killing one of the Brotherhood is in their future.
Either way, I wrap my arms around Bubba and decide to make his vacation in Hickory Creek the best thing ever. Even if his eventual return to Conroe will kill a little part of me.
Sharing his grin, I know any suffering will be well worth it.
THE CHAPTER WHERE DAYS TURN INTO A WEEK
THE RUNAWAY
I settle into a domesticated life in the triangle house with Soso. With so little space, we can’t avoid each other. It’s fucking perfect.
I quickly gel with Soso’s routine. Every morning, she wakes up and nibbles on berries and granola. Yep, my heart belongs to a squirrel. However, Soso isn’t one of those people who thinks everyone ought to be like her. In fact, I think she’d be horrified if she was normal. No, she realizes I need much more food to be satisfied. That’s why on day one, we go grocery shopping and stock up on as much of my crap as her little fridge
can fit.
Afterward, we eat dinner out. Soso doesn’t like to cook, and I’m an ace at burning food. Then we stop by a health clinic to get tested.
“I don’t mind condoms, but I’d rather not have to mind them, you know?” she says.
We share a smile, relieved to prove our healthy statuses. I don’t blame her for worrying. She knows how bikers and club whores go together like peanut butter and jelly. Or chlamydia and herpes.
We finish out that evening at the bird sanctuary where Soso introduces me to her first love—Odin. The enormous gray African parrot speaks a lot more than cuss words like Grinch. Odin says her name—well, Soda—and how he loves her. He even sings part of “Cruel Summer” by Bananarama while riding her shoulder as she walks around the enclosure. A few times, he eyeballs me as if I’m moving in on his chick, but there’s no violence. Mostly because I don’t throw attitude back at him. Soso insists I respect the power of these birds in a way Griff never did.
“They’ll fuck you up,” she warns more than once.
“Would you still want me if I lost an eye to your boyfriend?” I ask one day as we leave the sanctuary.
“Sure. Would you still want me if I lost an eye?”
“I think I’d want you more.”
“Why?” she asks, wearing the sexiest frown.
“Because everything makes me want you more.”
Words like those make it difficult for Soso to stay practical. Oh, sure, she tries. Like how she regularly mentions that driving down to visit me in Conroe will be easy. There’s much talk of a long-distance relationship.
“I’ll visit you. You’ll visit me. It’ll be fun,” she says more than once.
I nod along when she claims long-distance loving is going to be a fucking ball, but I’m full of shit. No way can I tolerate being away from Soso for days at a time. I’ve never wanted a girlfriend before. In fact, real dating felt like a hassle. I’ve seen how much work my parents put into their relationship. No woman before Soso inspired me to put in the effort.
But she isn’t ready to accept what we both know will happen. Either I’ll give up my family and town, or she’ll give up hers. Which way that tide turns is what scares her most.