by Bijou Hunter
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
★ Bear Trap ☆
Bijou Hunter
Copyright © 2018 Bijou Hunter
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmosphere purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
For more information about this series and author, please visit her website.
Cover
Photographer: javiindy
Source: Depositphotos
Cover Copyright © 2018 Bijou Hunter
Dedication
To Freckles, watching from Heaven,
My boys who make me smile,
Sally for dealing with my angst,
Sarah and Debbie for enduring my last minute madness,
&
Judy’s Proofreading
Book Summary
I’ve always been a stubborn bastard, refusing to give into logic if I want something bad enough.
And now I want Clove Jones.
She wants me too, but her rough childhood and violent past leaves her wary of allowing anyone close.
We make perfect f*cking sense as a couple. With her crew aligned with my motorcycle club, Clove and I understand the dark underbelly of our professions. We also make magic in the sack, but she demands to keep me at arm’s length.
But my patience has finally run out. Clove belongs with me. Sick of playing games, I refuse to wait any longer to make her mine.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
➸ Glitch ★
Chapter Two
➸ Glitch ★
Chapter Three
➸ Glitch ★
➸ Clove ☆
Chapter Four
➸ Clove ☆
➸ Glitch ★
➸ Clove ☆
Chapter Five
➸ Clove ☆
➸ Glitch ★
➸ Clove ☆
Chapter Six
➸ Clove ☆
➸ Glitch ★
➸ Clove ☆
➸ Glitch ★
Chapter Seven
➸ Glitch ★
➸ Clove ☆
➸ Glitch ★
Chapter Eight
➸ Glitch ★
➸ Clove ☆
Chapter Nine
➸ Clove ☆
➸ Glitch ★
➸ Clove ☆
Chapter Ten
➸ Clove ☆
➸ Glitch ★
➸ Clove ☆
➸ Glitch ★
➸ Clove ☆
Chapter Eleven
➸ Clove ☆
➸ Glitch ★
Chapter Twelve
➸ Glitch ★
➸ Clove ☆
➸ Glitch ★
Epilogue
➸ Glitch ★
About Bijou
Chapter One
Louis/Louisa Meaning: Renowned Warrior
➸ Clove ☆
Every day, my anger burns hotter. The quiet of our settled life in Rawlins feeds the fire inside me. Back in Little Memphis, I woke up every day to potential threats. Here, days blend into weeks and now months without any serious dangers. I moved here with five other members of the Everything Nice Crew, and they’ve all embraced the softness of our new life, yet I can’t.
Not that I don’t try to adopt a domesticated mindset. I decorate my townhome, putting great thought into every aspect. My home looks exactly as I always hoped but only reminds me of my current uneasiness in Rawlins.
The women of the Everything Nice Crew were once warriors, raging against a male-dominated, violent world. In Rawlins, our battle-worn natures are neutered to make us suitable for life. My friends fall in love, talk about kids, and indulge in the holiday spirit.
Having watched relationships make my friends happy, I relent to Glitch’s advances and give into an attraction I admittedly have for the pretty Heretics biker. Except rather than relaxing in the afterglow of our fucking, I’m more aware of how I don’t fit here. Not in this place or this life. I go about my days, craving something I can’t find.
Not long after Christmas, I realize why nothing brings me joy and my rage will only grow.
I am a warrior in search of a war.
➸ Glitch ★
Tenacious. Unyielding. Stubborn. Hopeless.
I’ve been called many things over the years.
Sexy, hotter than sin, pretty boy, sex on a stick.
So many descriptions fit me. True, my easy good looks are a gift from God along with solid genetics. My stubbornness is a choice, though. I could embrace an easy-going way of life tomorrow. In fact, I planned to chill after my old president died, a bunch of guys ended up in prison, and the club’s numbers dropped to six. Yeah, I oughta let shit go and be happy to be alive and free.
Then Clove Jones enters my life, and I realize chill won’t cut it.
I know I’ve met my old lady the day she walks into Rusty Cage. Clove Jones is it, and no one else will do. I don’t need to share two words with her to know. Love at first sight beats me over the head that day.
Unfortunately for my big heartfelt plans, Clove doesn’t share even the slightest bit of interest in my affections, let alone my love. My hardheaded woman has spent a lifetime building a chill around her heart. Only a select few people matter to her, and I’ve fought to become one of them. Fought and failed so far, but I’m nothing if not tenacious.
Chapter Two
Spanish Variation of Louisa: Loyisa
➸ Clove ☆
The crew’s fearless leader, Ginger, started our weekly card games after we skipped out on Little Memphis years ago. Unlike now—with our crew and the local biker club playing nice—back in the day, the MC president wanted Ginger dead. Not only was she moving into his territory but Trigger wasn’t a fan of women in charge of anything besides getting him a beer and offering a blowjob.
The fucker tried killing Ginger, but she was always too fast and smart. Finally, he grabbed another girl and claimed she was Ginger before tearing her apart in front of his boys. His ruse would have flopped if Ginger didn’t move the crew underground. Feeling guilty about the dead girl, our leader refused to put the rest of us in danger.
So we played the role of normal people. Except none of us wanted a 9-to-5 job. Why would I want to let anyone—especially a fucking loser man—push me around? Fortunately, our time as average folks didn’t last. When trouble found us in our new town, we naturally hit back. Ginger’s fear couldn’t compete with her temper.
Before we jumped feet first back into the dirty business we thrive in, Ginger started these poker games. For a few hours each week, she wanted us to forget we’d tucked-tail and ran from the power-mad old fucker in Little Memphis.
Years later, we still play poker as do
es the crew in our hometown. It’s a diversion that stuck in a way regular jobs and normal men never could.
Ginger looks over her first hand of cards and takes a sip of bourbon. “Our sandwich shop is opening in two weeks, and we have a timeline for the furniture store’s move to Rawlins. We’re looking at luring a hamburger chain too, but there’s a holdup with the paperwork. Finally, we have six houses in the process of being remodeled for rental income. That’s all the business talk I have to share.”
“How did we get that furniture guy to agree to move to our shithole?” Pepper asks without looking up from her cards.
“Cayenne put on her fancy business lady suit, wrapped her brown hair into a professional chick bun, and went with the mayor’s city development guy to meet with the furniture guy. Threats or promises were made, and now he’s moving his store to Rawlins.”
“I didn’t threaten shit,” Cayenne mumbles after downing her shot of bourbon. “I just talked about how great Rawlins was and how it’s an up-and-coming place and how the town is growing, and we’re super special awesome. Then the city guy, who wanted me to go on a date with him, said something to the furniture guy about a tax break.”
“What did you tell the city guy?”
“I said we could get coffee. I already canceled once because Duffy had a bad night and didn’t go to school. I haven’t rescheduled with him.”
“We would have watched Duffy,” Yarrow immediately says. “Dating is fun. You should do it a lot and then get married. That’s fun too.”
Cayenne isn’t the only one who grins at Yarrow’s enthusiasm. The girl loves being in love. I envy her ease at grabbing what she needs and finding peace after an unbearably ugly start in life. While she embraces our life in Rawlins, I’ve struggled to enjoy a decent night’s rest since we arrived months ago.
“I don’t know if I want to date anyone especially a square,” Cayenne says and dumps two of her cards. “A man like him seems all wrong for a woman like me with a kid like Duffy. I should have blown him off from the get-go, but that dress made me think I was normal people doing normal people shit.”
An awkward silence grips our card game for the next two hands. None of us knows how to give Cayenne a convincing pep talk about finding a man who will not only handle her tricky ass but also a child with autism like Duffy. Oh, and he’ll need to deal with both the crew and club.
No way am I capable of selling that bullshit, so I change the subject and focus the awkwardness on me.
“I’m thinking about moving back to Little Memphis,” I announce while shuffling the cards. “Just throwing that out there now.”
“Why? Is it something Pepper did?” Ginger asks and winks at Pepper who doesn’t react.
Yarrow pats my head. “Did Glitch make you sad?”
“No to both questions. I’m just bored here.”
“Thanks a lot, bitch,” Cayenne says and flicks a peanut at me. “We’re the best of the crew, but not good enough for you apparently.”
“Were you drunk when you got here?” I ask the brunette whose messy bun looks ready to explode over her face.
“Of course not.”
“I think we might need to cut you off.”
“You cut off my booze, and I’ll cut off your pretty fucking hair, bitch.”
Yarrow’s eyes widen, and I know she’s hoping for a fight. Unfortunately, Cayenne has no balance when she’s wasted.
“I miss punching people in the face,” I explain.
“You can punch people here,” Pepper says. “There’s a meth house in the woods that needs cleaning. Go punch them to death. Problem solved.”
“Is that a real job I can take?”
“Yeah,” Ginger says, leaning back in her chair. “Although maybe you can do something else first. Joker wants to have a meeting in Little Memphis. While he’d prefer Oz and I’d come, my man has an insatiable need to kill my former man. So heading to Little Memphis sounds dangerous. Since you’re bored and feeling nostalgic for our hometown, ta-da, you get the job. Feel free to take one of the girls or your boyfriend.”
“I’m not sure Glitch kills people,” I mutter.
Ginger snorts. “He does.”
“How do you know?”
“Oz said no one gets in the club without a proven kill. Glitch is a member, so there you go.”
Shrugging, I watch Cayenne sloppy-deal the cards. “I bet he killed some hundred-year-old pervert. Oh, and no doubt, he made the death painless. I suspect he put a pillow over the old fucker’s face while the asshole was sleeping.”
“He’s the pretty one, right?” Yarrow asks me as her young face frowns full of confusion. “I can’t remember which one is Glitch. There are two older, ugly ones, and two younger, pretty ones. One of the pretty ones is really pretty. Is that Glitch?”
“Yes.”
“Camo is prettier,” Pepper says. “Like girl pretty. A six-foot-tall stinky girl.”
“Glitch has a better body,” I tell them and throw five bullets into the pot. “Camo smells like a barn.”
The women laugh because they know I’m not lying about the blond’s stink. According to Glitch, Camo still lives with his mommy on a hippy farm just outside of town. This explains why he always smells like hay.
“I’ll run up to Little Memphis and see what Joker wants,” I say after I lose another hand.
“Unless it benefits us, tell Joker no. Oh, and by us, I mean Rawlins us, not the collective us that Joker always talks about as if his club and our crew are one and the same. He’s not dumping Little Memphis problems on us, just because it’s easier.”
“If it was serious enough,” Pepper says, “he’d come down here to talk it out. Sage told me the other day how things are quiet up north. Anise is bored, and Basil is thinking about having a kid since there’s nothing for her to do anymore.”
I know how Basil and Anise feel about the quiet life. We’ve been battling for so long that this average suburban crap is unbearable.
“If it’s quiet in Little Memphis,” Ginger mumbles with a cigar between her lips, “I doubt you’ll have more fun there than here, Clove.”
“Quiet in Little Memphis isn’t the same as quiet here. The entire west side is a heroin-addicted shithole on a good day.”
“Yeah, but it’s an organized, heroine-addicted shithole, and Sage isn’t a nice boss-lady like me.”
“Bitch can’t delegate,” Pepper growls, and we instantly laugh. “Well, she can’t.”
“No, she’s a micromanager, but that’s her overcompensating for not being me,” Ginger says, giving Pepper a wink.
“If you leave,” Yarrow whispers to me, “who will be second-in-command?”
“Cayenne.”
“Why not me?” Pepper asks, and we all laugh again. Well, except for Yarrow who watches me.
“I’m just talking,” I tell the eighteen-year-old. “I put too much time and effort on my townhome to leave it.”
Yarrow doesn’t look completely convinced, but she finally returns to frowning at her cards. Feeling guilty for making her worry, I lean over to tell her what cards to ditch and how to bet. She smiles at the chance to actually win.
I spend the rest of the night helping Yarrow, and her concerns about my ditching Rawlins fade. Despite what I told her, I doubt my current life in Rawlins is enough to keep my rage at bay.
➸ Glitch ★
The Heretics’ ownership of the Rawlins Rampage Arcade allows us to launder money. I’m not a numbers guy, but my club president, Oz, put me in charge of dropping off and picking up the cash. I figured that meant he trusted me the most. Or he didn’t think the other guys were smart enough to count.
Today, the club meets at the hot dog shop next to the arcade. Oz’s kids attend the school a block over, and he plans to pick them up, along with Cayenne’s daughter, after we’re done here.
“I know Blackjack will be late because he always is,” Oz says while scratching at the tabletop with his knife. “Devo is visiting his dying aunt out of
town. I don’t know where the fuck Vile is, but his kid is getting out of school soon, so I figured his ass would be here first.”
“What about Camo?” I ask about our youngest club member.
“Dicking some chick or playing nice with a dealer. Who the fuck knows?”
“Shouldn’t you know?” When Oz’s dark eyes narrow, I feel a punch coming. Rather than worry, I only smile. “Well?”
“I don’t chase the kid or play stalker.”
“The money he wastes playing nice with those dealers is your money, though.”
“I’ve got it handled.”
Smiling again, I see Oz’s temper flaring. He’s a big softie with me. Sure, he’s kicked my ass a few times and threatened to cut off my shoulder-length brown hair on multiple occasions. I only smile when he pulls that shit. Even when my lips are swollen and bloody, I give him a big grin. I’m a nice guy like that.
Blackjack and Camo show up together. The roars of their Harleys sound really fucking loud in the quiet day. Parking next to each other, they don’t hurry over to the outdoor table where we sit. Instead, they’re Chatty Cathys until Oz whistles at them.
“What’s the hurry?” Blackjack asks, stalking toward us. “I don’t see the old men here.”
“Devo’s out of town for his aunt’s deathbed goodbye.”
“Yeah, that’s right. He said something about her being a real nice old broad.”
“Vile ain’t coming,” Camo announces as he sits at a nearby table and reties his boot. “Something about hemorrhoid pain.”
“Him or his woman?” Oz mutters.
“Both maybe.”
“You’re a shit fuck when it comes to remembering messages, Camo. I’ve known corpses with more brain activity.”
“Sticks and stones,” Camo says and smiles. “Admit it, boss, you didn’t want Vile here anyway, so who the fuck cares why he didn’t show up?”
Vile and Devo are from the Heretics’ old guard. They came up with our former president, Cell, and neither man seems too comfortable with Oz in charge. Now that Oz hooked up with the leader of the Everything Nice Crew, the two old-timers are even less impressed. Ginger has no use for them—or most people really—and she treats Rawlins as her bitch. Oz digs the woman’s power. Vile and Devo wish she could stick to sucking off the boss rather than offering her opinion on drugs and whores.