by Turner, Xyla
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Let’s get together for a beer.”
“Okay, cool. I’m going to be at Peppers tonight. Meet you there?”
“Yup, that’s perfect. Nine work for you?”
“Yup, see you then. Looking forward to catching up,” I smiled.
“Me too.”
* * *
Peppers was crowded as usual. The music was hot, drinks were flowing, and the crowd was buzzed. Shay and Lori made a pact to get me out every weekend, so I could get reacquainted with the town. It had been a long time since I’d been home, so it was definitely needed. Soon, I’d have to start looking for a job. I managed to build a nice nest egg, but I wanted to keep some for a real rainy day.
There were some familiar faces here unlike at Wiley’s, where a lot of the out–of-towners would come through. Sometimes the local college students would swing by, but you could easily point them out. They were fresh- faced and had mischief written all over them.
“Do we have to go out every weekend?” I whined to the girls.
I even tried to get out of going because of my eye. However, after Shay put makeup over it and styled my hair so it covered the left side of my face, I almost looked like nothing happened.
Almost.
“Yup, every damn weekend,” Shay said as her eyes narrowed on me. “There is only so much facetime, Facebook, and other social media communication we can do. Now we are in make-up mode.”
“Exactly,” Lori chimed in.
The door opened and several guys walked in, but only one of them looked familiar.
Razor.
He did not see me, but I definitely turned around so I would not see him. He sauntered in like he owned the joint.
Arrogant son of a bitch.
Shay disappeared by the time I turned back around and Lori was chatting it up with another guy. We were sitting off to the side at an island designed for patrons to set drinks and maybe even a snack. Not much else could be held on the small countertop, but there were seats. Someone touched my back on the right side, but when I turned, no one was there. I swiveled my stool to the left and saw Justin Carter in the flesh, looking like a million bucks.
“Justin!” I screamed and flung myself at him.
He caught me and swung me around.
“Kylie Mills! So fucking good to see you.” He put me down.
“Yes! Oh my God! You look so good!” I exclaimed, while still holding on to him.
“Well, shit. You are the one that looks good. Always did.”
Oh boy.
“Let’s get a drink.” I motioned towards the bar.
“Yeah.” He smiled and put his arm around my back. “Let’s do that.”
We started to walk towards the bar, when a tall man stood in front of us. When I looked up, I saw that President’s stitching with the Guardian’s patch.
“She yours?” Razor asked through gritted teeth.
“What are you doing?!” I was yelling over the crowd.
“Won’t say it again. Is. She. Yours?”
“Not sure why that’s any of your business.” Justin said, while holding me tighter.
“Your hands are on her, like she’s yours. I’ll just assume she is.” Razor smirked.
If I would have known what was going to happen next, I would have never invited Justin to come out. Razor slightly turned his head, then he punched Justin right in the face, sending him flying back and sliding across the floor. The place was packed but that punch moved people out of the damn way.
Justin was a solid guy standing six feet tall and husky. He was not a small man, but the way he flew back like a rag doll was almost impressive.
Almost.
I lost my shit.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I screamed.
I hadn't realized that I had moved towards him and raised my hand to slap him. He caught me by the wrist and growled in my face, “You need a man that will take care of business inside the bedroom and out. Exhausting you from fucking and weakening you from coming, with both sets of lips swollen from nips and bites, and not from hits and gripes. Your eyes should be filled with tears of ecstasy, and not from being abused physically.”
What?
We stared at each other for a long minute. It felt like an eternity. Razor was angry, upset and disappointed in me that I would allow someone to hit me and then stay with him. He thought that someone was Justin and went about defending my honor. Razor did not even know me, but he saw something and decided an eye for an eye, literally. How I gathered all of that in those damn eyes, I had no clue, but I read it just the same.
I opened my mouth to say something to him, but he dropped my wrist and stalked off. My body, on the other hand, stayed planted there staring at the same spot he just occupied. Someone took his place, and when my eyes cleared up, I saw that it was Lori.
“What the hell just happened?!” She yelled over the music.
“Razor just happened.” I turned swiftly to see Justin getting ice from the bar.
As I scanned the area, I saw that there were more than the usual amount of guys wearing cuts, and they were all eying us suspiciously.
Walking towards Justin, I exclaimed, “OH MY GOD! I’m sooo sorry.”
He shook his head and said, “It’s not your fault. Fuck. He has a mean left hook. Your ex or something?”
“No, just some guy I turned down, who can’t let go. I think.”
Razor was a ball of confusion. Rough, angry, yet avenging.
“Well, it seems like he likes you.” Justin tried to smile.
“Let’s get outta here,” I suggested and then turned towards Lori. “We’re leaving. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Wait, I’ll come…”
I cut her off, “No, you guys stay. I want to catch up with Justin so I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay. I can’t find Shay anyway. I’m sure she’s in a closet somewhere.” She shook her head.
“Okay. See you.”
Justin and I left for the burger joint in town. He was trying to be nice about the entire thing, but I had a range of feelings, anger being one of them. I told him about the situation and how I covered the evidence with makeup.
“Now we have matching black and blue eyes.” Justin joked.
“It’s not funny, Justin. I swear I want to kick his ass for punching you like that.”
“Well, serves me right.” Justin shook his head. “I did not account for the men in your life when I put my arm around you. That was possessive. He picked it up and called me out.”
“I don’t give one fuck. He had no right laying his hands on you!” I exclaimed. “He and I aren’t a thing.”
“Kylie, he’s a Guardian. That’s what they do.” Justin looked at me while holding the makeshift ice pack to his eye. “If he felt like you were being beat on, they step in. Usually, it’s when people ask for help, but sometimes, it’s because they are drawing the line in the sand. Like tonight.”
“Drawing a line in the sand? What the fuck does that mean?” I took a bite of my burger. “You know I don’t speak biker.”
“Making a play. Dropping the gauntlet. Laying down the law. Claiming the girl.” He leaned in. “You get it.”
“Shut the fuck up.” I shook my head at him. “Razor can kick rocks.”
“Well, as long as you kicking them with him, you’ll be fine. He doesn’t usually chase women, Kylie.”
We had to get off of this subject, because I did not want to think of Razor, the crazy, biker barbarian chasing after me.
“Where’s your other half?” I asked.
“Right here.” He pointed to himself.
“What?”
“We’ve divorced.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I said sincerely.
“No the fuck you’re not.” He erupted in laughter. “You hated her guts.”
“Well, this is true.” I smiled. “However, you loved her, so there you go.”
He laughed some
more, then said, “Well, she was toxic, causing many of my relationships to go south. Including yours, and I never wanted that.”
I nodded my head and that was all. I would not trash-talk her because despite all of that, he still loved her, tolerated her mess for years.
“Thought you might have been the one for a long time, but you were gone.”
Oh. Kay…
I put my drink down and looked at him. Half of me could not believe he was saying this and the other half of me thought it sucked that he had the worst timing in the world.
“Uh. Look, Justin. This is the worst timing ever. I’m just not…”
He held up his hand, “No, Kylie. I get it.” He pointed to his eye, then said, “Oh, I get it.”
“Wait. Oh hell no.” I started to say. “Razor and…”
“Kylie, you and Razor need to talk.” He sipped the last of his soda. “So, if you need a guitar player the next time you go out. I’ll make myself available.”
“Justin.” I started to explain how it was just that one night at Wiley’s.
“I’m available is all I’m saying. No band, no rekindling. Just if you need one.”
Later that night, I tossed and turned thinking of Razor. Nobody but steely-eyed Razor, the President of the motherfucking biker club in town.
Keep Coming
Razor:
“Brother, that’s Kylie Mills. She’s the mayor of Millersville’s daughter,” Bronx said before he downed his beer.
“Then he needs to be taking care of her shit,” I growled. “What father won’t take care of his daughter’s shit?”
“He may not know,” Apollo said, trying to be the voice of reason. “They aren’t close after his old lady divorced his ass.”
“Facts,” Bronx added. “She musta just got back into town. Her mom lives here and she’s probably staying with her or one of those friends.”
I narrowed my eyes on my VP. He knew damn well who “those” friends were. There was no secret how he looked at Shay Goodwin. Why he never said anything to her was still a mystery. They probably fucked already and decided to take that shit to the grave. Fuck if I knew. Everybody knew Lori too. She damn neared stalked Apollo, who gave not one shit about the brunette. I did not see good things with that fallout.
My stay in Manor was approaching ten years, which apparently is how I missed crossing paths with the beautiful Kylie Mills. She was young, and that was one of her flaws, besides letting some pussy hit on her.
Fuck.
“You seem, shall I say, invested.” Dash, the Guardian’s treasurer, observed.
Refusing to acknowledge his comment, I turned towards the door and saw Shay approaching our reserved table.
“The fuck is wrong with you, Razor?!” Her hands were in the air, in standard Shay form. “That’s not her boyfriend.”
“I asked.”
“And I’m telling you. She doesn’t have a boyfriend. Some guy hit her the other night at Wiley’s, after she was singing.” Her hands were now on her hips.
My anger surged at the thought of her being touched by anyone and apparently so did all my brothers at the table.
“Who the fuck hit her?!” Bronx growled.
I stood up.
“Where is he?!” I snapped.
Shay’s head jerked back, and then she said, “Some outsiders. Don’t worry, the boys took care of them. Hospital and all. They won’t be returning.”
“Good.” The tension still did not leave my shoulders and my chest remained tight with frustration. Frustrated for what, is the thing that made me take pause.
What kind of man would hit a woman like that? Fucking morons.
That was the thing about small towns or even bigger ones like Manor, everybody knew everybody. So if something went down as it was described, the boys, including everyone in the bar that knew the sweethearts of Manor, would not stand for that. Especially at Wiley’s. According to Bronx, he was like her god-father.
“Yeah, well, just so you know. Kylie ain’t that type to lay down and let nobody hit her. That ain’t her.” She raised an eyebrow and continued, “Just so we’re clear.”
“We’re clear, Shay.” I nodded. “Obliged.”
“Whatever that means,” she said, then walked away.
I noticed Shay didn’t pay one ounce of attention to Bronx, but kept her conversation directed towards me. We knew each other from a mutual community event, Operation Santa that I contributed to every year. We’d had an understanding of mutual respect, so she would be about the only woman to come over at me flailing her hands at me or any of my brothers. Anybody else would have had their asses handed to them. Her friend Lori came along most of the time as she was infatuated with my sergeant-at-arms Apollo.
Bronx, on the other hand, sat staring at her walk away. Shay was another pretty woman, with bronze skin, large eyes, long hair and just (or more than) enough boobs and ass to grab. Her nights did not have to be lonely, but nobody in the brotherhood fucked with her. It was well-known that one of the brothers already claimed her, but nobody knew, except Apollo and me, which brother that might actually be.
I steered clear of my brother’s love lives, but he’d better do something soon. Shay was young, vibrant, and wouldn’t be available too much longer. This was a guarantee.
The next morning, I woke up with a hard, wet dick.
Fuck! Bonnie was here. This was her normal way of trying to wake me up.
Closing my eyes, I lay back down, and enjoyed the wake-up call. Eventually, I wrapped her long hair around my hand and thrust back and forth in her mouth, thinking about the blond-haired vixen with hazel eyes. Upon my release, I swear I called out Kylie’s name.
Bonnie didn’t give a fuck, but that shit was messing with me.
“See you next weekend?” Bonnie asked, leaving after swallowing my load.
I nodded and rolled over to get ready to pick up Mace, my son. I had him for the week, since Rachel was going out of town with her new fiancé, Cecil. Mace was eleven years old, my pride and joy and looked just like me. The same walk and everything. Badass in the making.
Lately, he’d been getting into trouble at school, so Rachel wanted me to take him more often that our original agreement. That was fine by me. I felt a boy of that age would really need his father more anyway. Rachel could be a total bitch, but ever since she hooked up with Cecil, she was almost nice and definitely accommodating.
Rachel’s biggest beef then and even now was that I chose the club over her. We’d been together for a couple of years. We weren’t married, but I was the VP for the Guardians in Columbia, some miles from Millersville. The President, Pete, was a true brother, and thought I was capable of running the local chapter and maybe more. He sent me to the headquarters in Manor where I served under one of the old District Presidents. Pete kept saying that he was ready to retire and knew that if I made President, I’d be stuck, and he wanted me to expand. That was fifteen years ago. Our chapter in Columbia was smaller, but he told me to check out Manor, start networking and making myself known. I did what he advised, so when the larger chapter needed a President, I threw my bid in. Most of the guys were on board, but some of them had their issues. They wanted a native Manor member to be the President. The problem with the native they wanted, Shark, was that he was a great leader, but would have taken the club in another direction.
Shark had been very vocal about associating the club with the various gangs and as they would be allies as well. This was his rationale. He felt if we were on good terms with them, we could serve as peacemakers or neutral ground. Pete would not hear of it nor would any President. Gang wars were real and it was suspected that Shark wanted in on their money.
The Legion of Guardians was a social and service-oriented club. Our hands were in everything and we kept it that way. We had members everywhere, including honorary ones. Sometimes they’d party with us and that was fine. Each guardian had a skill or job that they all performed and more importantly, we abided by the Legion creed:
We were protectors, fighters, and avengers, and it would not always be in accordance with the law. Some called us vigilantes, but we were guardians, and one of the services we provided was protection. Our membership numbers were strong, and our ties were deep. We were all highly-trained in physical combat and our connections would blow peoples’ minds.
I was a proud member, brother, and now president of the Manor Chapter and Regional Director of The Legion of Guardians. That’s what Pete groomed me for, and now, here I am. He is like a father to me and he definitely has my respect.
As I was about to pull out of my driveway, the sheriff pulled in, blocking me.
Fuck.
Hopping out of my truck, I shouted, “Sheriff!”
“Hey Razor.” He sauntered up my driveway. “Heard there was some commotion over at Peppers last night.”
“Wouldn’t know.”
“Oh yeah. I musta heard wrong.” He took off that stupid hat. “You weren’t trying to be a guardian for Mayor Mill’s daughter, right?”
“Right.”
He walked closer to me and said in a whisper, “I look the other way, most of the time, Razor. I know and get what you guys do. Respect it, even. But you can’t go messing around with the mayor’s daughter. It then turns political, and I’ll be forced to do something about that shit.”
“Acknowledged.”
“I sure hope so. Phillip Mills has been in office a long time and knows a lot of people.”
It was my turn to whisper, “I quite frankly don’t give a fuck. He knows his daughter is walking around with a shiner on her eye? He’d also need to tend to that shit. He’d also know, just like you. We aren’t called Legion for nothing.”
I walked back to my truck and said, “Have a good one, Sheriff.”
“Best heed my warning.” He nodded, then walked to his cruiser and pulled out.
Great.
* * *
By Wednesday, I was at my baseball store, The Diamond Base, with Mace. He was dusting the cabinets while I was tending to a customer.
The door chimed, signaling that someone had entered. If it wasn’t my fucking luck that Kylie Mills entered the store led by a rambunctious boy around Mace’s age.