Down & Dirty_Zak

by Jeanne St. James

  She shook her head and stopped at the bottom of the stairway. “I’ll be fine. I want to be by myself.”

  That was never going to happen, but he knew if he said that he might never get upstairs.

  “Let me at least make sure you get into your apartment safely.”

  She hesitated for a moment, then sighed and started up the steps. Zak sucked in a relieved breath.

  Once upstairs, he shut the apartment door behind him and twisted the deadbolt. She pulled away from him and turned. “You can go now.”

  “I’m either stayin’ here with you tonight or you’re comin’ back to church with me.”

  “I have to get up early again in the morning. I’m not leaving. And I’m not going to have them chase me out of my home.”

  That settled it. “So I’m staying here.”

  “Aren’t you the target?”

  “But you’re a part of me.”

  At his words, her eyes went from unfocused to heated. “That’s what you think and now that’s what they, these Warriors or whoever, think. But no one asked me what I think.” She stepped to the middle of the room, crossed her arms and spun to face him. “I know I keep asking myself this, but... how the hell did this happen?” Her shaky whisper made his gut twist. “How did I become a part of you? And how would they know this? I only met you five nights ago.”

  “News travels fast, babe. Especially when I made it pretty clear you belong to me.”

  “Why?”

  Why? So many reasons why. But he knew she wouldn’t want to hear any of them, wouldn’t accept them, or would think they were stupid.

  He only did what he’d known his whole life: once you’ve found a good woman, you claimed her as yours. A man was only as good as the woman at his back.

  His parents might not be living the life, but as the stories go, his father had claimed his mother just the same. As far as he knew, they were still happy together. He hadn’t heard anything to the contrary.

  “I didn’t think you’d have a good answer. Tell me, why do I want to be a part of something so freaking archaic? I mean, the little I’ve been around you all, I can see it. It’s the brotherhood, then your bikes, then the bitches. I assume I’m in that last category, or would be if I was your ‘woman.’”

  He shook his head. “It’s not like that for everyone, babe. It’s not.”

  “Seriously, what was this house mouse and sweet butt stuff Axel mentioned?” She lifted a palm before he could answer. “No. I can only imagine. I probably don’t want to know.”

  “That ain’t you.”

  “Maybe not. But they exist, right?”

  She made a noise when he didn’t answer. She moved toward her kitchen, leaned a hip against the counter and crossed her arms over her breasts, effectively closing herself off from him. “Be honest with me, Zak, why do these Warriors have a beef with you?”

  He shouldn’t tell her. He needed to keep club business just that. But she needed to know. She got caught up in the mess which meant she deserved an answer. She wasn’t a house mouse, she wasn’t a sweet butt, she wasn’t one of Dawg’s strippers. She was to be his ol’ lady. She would never agree to that if he wasn’t completely honest with her.

  When he went to step closer, she held up a hand.

  “I can hear you from there. Speak.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his beard and sighed. “Began over territory. The Shadow Warriors were nomads. No home turf. Wanted to settle. Came through a sleepy town called Shadow Valley, felt that the name fit ‘em, I guess. Had no idea the Dirty Angels already established their mother club here. The club was small, still growing. But none of the originals were givin’ up the territory that the club claimed. Push came to shove, Bear ended up dead. Went back and forth for a while ‘til my uncle Rocky helped Doc take out a bunch of ‘em when they least expected it. They moved on but never forgot.”

  “They’re the ones that set you up.”

  Wasn’t a question, so he didn’t confirm her suspicion. “They show up now and again. Don’t know if they’re just ridin’ through or comin’ on purpose. Gotta feeling this was on purpose.”

  “Them setting you up was on purpose, too.”

  He tucked a thumb in his jean’s pocket, dipped his head to stare at the toe of his boot, and gathered his thoughts. He wanted this woman so much that it tore at his insides to see her putting up a wall because of shit the club has had to deal with for almost thirty years. Almost as long as both of them have been alive. They were both caught up in something neither of them had a hand in.

  Axel was right; she didn’t deserve any of this. He was surrounded in shit. And she was so much better than shit. But he still needed to tell her the truth. He’d have to deal with whatever happens afterward.

  Sophie steeled herself as the words continued to cross his lips.

  “When I was prez, rule was not to engage ‘em. Be on the defensive, yeah. Be on the offensive, no. Don’t need the bloodshed that happened back in the seventies and eighties happenin’ again. Dead brothers, dead family, others servin’ life, might as well be dead. Got us nowhere fast. Things needed to change. I stepped up. Even though I was still wet behind the ears, they accepted me holdin’ the gavel. Had good brothers by my side. Changed things. Worked on making ‘em better. Strengthened the club, expanded, filled the coffers so we all could live good. Warriors want what they don’t have. We wanna keep what we worked hard for.”

  “But I’m not part of the club.” She meant this as a reminder to him. But, in all honestly, it was more of a reminder to herself.

  “Babe, the moment I dragged you upstairs, you became a part of the club. I claimed you.”

  Dragged. Claimed. She felt like she’d fallen in some parallel universe. One she couldn’t pull herself out of.

  “Claimed me.” She shook her head and laughed bitterly. “You guys act like there’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing archaic about it.” She pulled the imaginary knife out of her heart and threw it at him, hoping to cut him just as deep. “I’m sorry, but I can’t be some man’s property.” This needed to end. So she went for the kill. “Especially a biker’s.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Biker’s not good enough,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, then hooking it around the back of his neck and squeezing.

  “You chose this life. I,” she pounded her palm against her chest, “didn’t. I don’t want to live this way. I refuse to live this way. To live in fear. To live in the shadow of a man who doesn’t see women as equals. Don’t make me give up my dream and go back home to Philly to get away from this shit you dragged me into.”

  His eyes got hard as he rumbled, “You’re not goin’ anywhere.”

  She didn’t want to go anywhere, but she might have no choice. “If my bakery ends up destroyed, I’ll have nothing left.”

  “You got me.”

  Her eyes bugged out, and she threw her hands up. “Great. Give up my lifelong dream for an ex-con biker. Sounds like solid planning for the future.”

  “I can take care of you.”

  She started to pace, but stopped dead and whirled on him. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want to be taken care of. I’m not a piece of property.” She pointed at him. “You. Don’t. Own. Me. I’ve known you for less than a week... Fuck! I’ve been forced to have sex with you.”

  He winced. “You weren’t forced.”

  She talked over him, her arms swinging wildly. “I’ve been propositioned to sleep with a guy named Weasel!”

  “What? I’m gonna kill that—”

  She cut him off. “I was invited to a threesome in a bathroom. With another woman, by the way.”

  “What?” His eyes narrowed. “Who? Why didn’t you tell me—”

  She kept going, ignoring him. “My bakery was attacked. Not to mention, I was almost killed! Why would I want any of that?” She began to pace again. “What’s next? Am I going to be kidnapped? Held for ransom?”

  He held out a hand the next time she walked by him.
“Babe.” She swatted it away.

  “And I have a name!” she practically shrieked. “It’s Sophie, goddamn it!” She paced some more. “It’s not like I love it but it’s mine. This bakery is mine. And I’m my own person. I’ve survived the last thirty-three years without you taking care of me and will survive another thirty-three.” She halted abruptly and turned, hands on her hips. “So let me use words you’ll understand...” She pointed to the door. “Get gone!”

  Zak closed his eyes and dropped his head. “Don’t do this, Sophie,” he said quietly to his boots.

  “Don’t make me call SVPD and have them physically remove you, Zak. Because I’m sure that Axel would love to do just that.”

  His head came up, the pain deep within his eyes. “Don’t do this, Sophie,” he repeated softly.

  Sophie squeezed her eyes shut, steeling herself from the hurt in his, and inhaled deeply. Even with her eyes closed, she couldn’t rid herself of seeing the tightness around his mouth, the defeat in the curve of his shoulders.

  She opened them. He hadn’t moved. “Go live your life, Zak. You’re free now. Stay that way.”

  “Not a life without you.”

  Her heart squeezed painfully, and she did a slow blink, fighting back the sting. “You’ve only known me for five days.”

  “Knew you the minute I saw you,” he whispered.

  It killed her when he said things like that. He knew how to play with her heart, her emotions. “You thought I was a stripper,” she said, reminding herself how they met.

  “Wouldn’t have mattered to me if you were.”

  Sophie groaned in frustration and turned away. “Get gone, Zak,” she said quietly.

  “At least let Diesel finish your security system.”

  She nodded but couldn’t face him. “I’ll find a way to pay him.”

  Silence met her and when she finally turned she realized he “got gone.”

  She should be relieved. But for some insane reason, she wasn’t.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sophie pushed open the swinging door between the bakery’s kitchen and the shop and froze.

  At the front by the register, Bella and Axel were leaning towards each other over the display case, eyes intense, and whispering fiercely. Axel had a hand outstretched, cupping Bella’s face.

  Suddenly their whispering stopped and both sets of eyes turned to her. Axel quickly dropped his hand and they straightened. Even from where she stood, Sophie could see the color in Bella’s cheeks.

  Interesting.

  In the three weeks since Bella started helping out, Axel stopped by more often. Even on his days off he’d show up in his casual clothes, which he had never done before. Sophie had to admit that the man looked good in either a uniform or jeans and a worn T-shirt. And when the day was colder, he would wear a black leather jacket and look like he would fit right in with the DAMC. She could picture the two brothers sitting side by side on their Harley’s.

  Though, Sophie doubted it would ever happen.

  However, Axel’s excuse for his daily appearance was that he was now hopelessly addicted to her cupcakes. And it didn’t matter if they were red velvet or not.

  She unfroze herself and moved forward.

  “You didn’t make red velvet cupcakes,” he teased her as she neared.

  “No.” She hadn’t because she wanted to find out if he was addicted to something other than that excuse. Or more like someone. She wasn’t sure if it was her presence bringing him in, since Zak had been thrown to the curb which she was sure Bella told him.

  She had a thought after seeing what she just witnessed. Maybe now it was Bella’s presence that drew him.

  Hmm.

  “You guys grew up together, right?”

  Axel’s gaze flicked to Bella then landed back on her. “Not really.”

  Bella stepped back from the counter and busied herself by assembling pastry boxes. “Ax wasn’t allowed to hang out with us biker kids. We were a bad influence.”

  “But you knew each other,” Sophie prodded.

  “We went to school together and we’re sort of related,” Axel answered.

  “Sort of?”

  He continued, “The Doc/Bear connection. Not by blood, though,” he added quickly.

  “No, not by blood,” Bella clarified a little too quickly, too. “Why?”

  “Nothing. Just wondering. I find this whole DAMC family tree interesting.”

  “Things been quiet?” Axel asked Sophie. She knew what he was really asking. If Zak had made himself scarce.

  He had, surprisingly.

  Though, it kind of hurt that he gave up so easily.

  What the hell was she thinking! She kicked his ass out of her place, out of her life for a good reason. She didn’t want anything do with any crazy biker beefs where people actually died. Not to mention, went to prison for life. All because they fought over some town. There were plenty of other towns in Pennsylvania she was sure weren’t “claimed territory” by some other club.

  She just had to stop thinking about bikers, beefs, and men with tattoos wearing grimy leather vests. Especially ones who gave her multiple orgasms. Or more like one biker in particular.

  She ground the heel of her palm into her right eye.

  Axel wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her hand away, looking concerned. “You okay?”

  “Yes, fine.”

  His lips flattened. He didn’t believe her. “It’s for the best, Sophie. Take my word for it.”

  She snorted. “Right, says the man who has no problem cutting his blood brother out of his life.”

  Axel frowned. “You don’t understand. I’m a cop. I can’t have anything to do with an outlaw biker club. Blood or not.”

  That’s when Bella broke in, color high in her cheeks. “What the fuck, Axel? You know better than that. The club hasn’t been a one percenter in a long time. Shit’s different now. Has been. And if you can’t be seen around DAMC, then what are you doing here? I’m one hundred percent DAMC. You know that.”

  Axel raised his palms up. “Hey, I’m just here for the cupcakes.”

  “Right,” Bella scoffed. “You keep telling yourself that.”

  “And Dad wants me to keep an eye on Sophie.”

  Sophie’s brows knitted. “Why?”

  Axel lifted a shoulder. “I guess he wants to make sure things stay quiet around here.”

  “Things are quiet. If that’s why you’re always stopping by, then don’t bother.”

  “Sophie...” he started.

  “No, Axel. I don’t need you ‘taking care’ of me, either.”

  “I’m not. I really love your cupcakes.”

  “So you keep saying.”

  “It’s true.”

  Bella reached into the display case, snagged a Tiramisu cupcake and shoved it towards Axel. “There you go. Here’s a fucking cupcake. Take it and go.”

  “Bella...”

  “Bye,” she said with a raise of her eyebrows, which clearly meant “get gone.”

  Axel looked at the cupcake in his hand. “Am I going to like this one?”

  Bella blew out an impatient breath. “How the fuck would I know? Bye,” she repeated.

  Axel’s lips flattened out. “Fine. I’ll stop back in during first shift tomorrow.”

  “Can’t wait,” Bella said and turned her back to him.

  Axel looked toward Sophie, dug into the front pocket of his jeans and threw a crumpled five-dollar bill onto the counter by the register. “Thanks.”

  “You get two for five,” Sophie said.

  “I’ll pick the second one up tomorrow.”

  She gave him a sharp nod, and he turned and left, looking a bit put out.

  Sophie moved behind the display case and leaned against the counter watching Bella’s stiff, jerky movements as she assembled more boxes.

  “You don’t have to do that. You’re not a paid employee.”

  Bella’s chest heaved as she took a deep breath. She turned and
leaned a hip against the counter, mirroring Sophie. “I know. I just want to help out because I appreciate you doing this. You could’ve kicked me out when you did Z. Rid yourself of all of us. You know,” Bella dragged a hand through her long, thick dark hair, “you’re still at risk with me being here if the Warriors want retribution for whatever they’re looking for retribution for. Which... who knows what it’s about this time. One could’ve gotten a hangnail and it would be DAMC’s fault. This whole life can be fucked sometimes.”

  “Then why are you a part of it?” Sophie asked gently.

  “Because it’s my life. I don’t know any different. It’s my family. Always have been. I’m not going to desert my family when things get rough. I’m not going to do what Mitch and Axel did to Z. It’s wrong.”

  Sophie pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. She agreed. But then, isn’t that what she did to Zak also? Things got rough, and she kicked him out of her life.

  “So what do you think of me, then?”

  The blood drained from Bella’s face at Sophie’s question. “I didn’t mean... Sophie, it’s not the same. You didn’t choose this. He sort of forced it on you. I don’t blame you for doing what you did.”

  Her words did not make Sophie feel any better, though they should.

  “He’s a good guy, Sophie. He really is. He’s always wanted what was best for the club, what was best for all of us. He sees better things for the club’s future. As Ace always says, Zak’s been progressive.”

  Sophie chewed on her bottom lip. “He’s a misogynist.”

  Bella laughed, and Sophie was shocked at the beautiful tone of it. It brightened the whole shop. She couldn’t help but smile at the sound.

  “It’s true!” Sophie insisted.

  “No shit. Aren’t they all? But let me tell you something, Soph, all you have to do is get them wrapped around your little finger and they sing like a canary. They’re not supposed to talk club business with their ol’ ladies. But you think that Ace doesn’t have pillow talk with Janice? You think Pierce doesn’t talk things out with his woman? They need us. We give them a different perspective and they’ll die before they admit it but they respect our opinions. Now... the house mouse or the sweet butt or the fuck... Hell, the strippers, the sweeties... the list goes on. They don’t get told shit. A good man will respect his ol’ lady. And don’t be put off by the name either. Believe it or not, it’s really a term of endearment. The rest of them... all those others hang out at the club, put out, clean up, do whatever they’re told, just with the hopes of becoming an ol’ lady. Sometimes it happens, most times it doesn’t. They come and they go like the tides.”