Reckless

by Franca Storm

  I growl and make a move towards the living room, but Smiter pushes me back, shaking his head.

  “I won’t let that happen. And love? We just met, Ralph. Come on.”

  “Sure. Okay. Good fucking luck with that. You can’t control everything. Once you’re wrapped up in that kind of life, the only way out is death.”

  “No, I CAN control it.”

  “Whatever, Rox. You and I? That’s it.”

  “Ralph—”

  “No. You’ve made your choice. Power over all else, right? I knew it. Well, I don’t want a part of it. Keep your distance. The Mavs will put out a hit soon enough and I don’t want you bringing that kind of heat around me and Michaela, so keep away.”

  Fucking pussy.

  A second later, he comes storming back through the lobby, brushing past me and Smiter without a single look or word. He hauls open the front door and slams it behind him.

  Before me or Smiter can even react, Rox rushes past us, hauls open the door and bolts down the porch steps, going after Ralph. The two of us are out the door, following after her in the next second. Ralph’s opening the door to his car—a silver Beamer, when Rox screams at the top of her lungs, “He tried to rape me that day, Ralph!”

  All three of us freeze.

  I fucking knew it! That piece of shit! He’s dead! Dead!

  Ralph turns around and chokes, “What? Why didn’t you tell me that? You told me he hurt you. I knew that much. He didn’t like you asking questions about you dad’s death and you showing up at his home.”

  “His home?” I say, before I can stop myself. “Which one?”

  “A cottage in butt-fuck nowhere,” Ralph answers. “Nightridge…something.”

  Adrenaline spikes through me at the mention of it. They’re talking ‘bout my old childhood home. The home my mom lived in ‘til the day she was murdered.

  “I…couldn’t.” She wraps her arms around herself and looks down at the sidewalk as she says, “I didn’t know he was dangerous to me and I…I let my guard down with him, because of his connection to my dad. I was a biker princess—the daughter of a MC President—a MC he did business with at one point. I didn’t think he’d hurt me. But he did.” She rubs her arm. “There was blood everywhere. I couldn’t fight back, because it hurt so much. I wasn’t prepared for that level of pain. And then…” she stops to look at me, her face twisted in agony. “…then Kim came in.”

  I step back in shock. “My mom?” I choke.

  She nods. “She saw what he was…doing…and she shot him and forced him out of the house.”

  Me and Smiter exchange a look as the realization hits us at the same time. The day she was killed Skinner sent me a message, telling me she’d died for interfering in his business. The timing works out, too. The business he meant was his attack on Rox. Fucking hell. My mom died, cuz she’d saved Rox’s life.

  Fuck. This shit’s too fucking heavy.

  “That’s why I called war, Ralph. Because, he’s coming here and I can’t let that happen. He took my power that day. He took it away and I won’t let that happen again.”

  Ralph goes to her then, wrapping his arms ‘round her, comforting her.

  I know I should do something too. But I can’t.

  It was my mom’s life for hers that day. And that’s too fucking brutal to handle. I can’t be ‘round her right now.

  I turn to Smiter. “Let’s bounce. We gotta head back to Reirdon anyway.”

  He don’t argue. He gets it.

  I hear Rox calling after me, but I don’t stop. I just keep walking.

  Chapter 16

  ~Ax~

  I lift my chin at the two prospects manning the gates at the front of the ten-foot-high chain-link fence surrounding the Black Thorns clubhouse as they wave me and Smiter on through.

  It took us half a day to get back here, cuz of my damn arm. I couldn’t ride for more than a half hour without it being a little bitch and forcing me to stop. We had to stop so many goddamn times. Smiter, patient guy he is, didn’t say a word. Didn’t even seem pissed off I was dragging out our journey back.

  For the first time since I started riding as a kid, it was a complete pain in the ass being on my bike cuz of the damn gunshot wound—the bullet I’d taken to protect Rox.

  Shit. At least we’re finally back now.

  I notice Trig had Smiter beef up security before he sent him down to Brockford to back me up. The gates are usually enough on normal days when we ain’t holding pussy parties or BBQs for the boys’ families. But after the massacre that just went down on Rox’s guys, I ain’t surprised. He’s taking the threat seriously. Good. Looks like he might be on board with what I’m dead set on doing. Gotta get club permission first. Can’t act alone, something made brutally clear to me when I did act one time without them when I used to be Sergeant-at-Arms for the Thorns. Had my ass handed to me for it.

  As me and Smiter pull up, I see Zeb “Runner” Wilkes, our Road Captain, stumbling outta the clubhouse with his tongue shoved down the throat of the brunette wrapped ‘round him. He laughs and peels her arms from ‘round his neck. Slapping her ass, he points to the gates, sending her off. She gives me a good eye-fucking as she walks by, her tight ass swaying in her booty shorts. Ain’t as nice as Rox’s. What? Stop it. Get that bitch outta your head.

  “Nice, huh?” Runner says as I walk up with Smiter following close behind.

  I shrug. “Just all right.”

  “You saw her tits, yeah?”

  “Fake and hard as hell, I bet.”

  “Sweet ass, though,” Smiter chimes in.

  “Yeah,” Runner agrees. He frowns at me. “What’s crawled up your ass, Ax?”

  “Nothing,” I grumble. “Just need a fucking drink.”

  He slaps my shoulder—the uninjured one thankfully—and leads me inside the clubhouse. “I’ll have Billy hook you up.”

  “I gotta check on security. Make sure the guys didn’t screw anything up in my absence,” Smiter tells us. “Have a whiskey on me.”

  “Will do,” I tell him.

  He smiles and takes off through the clubhouse.

  I look ‘round as me and Runner make our way over to the bar where Billy, our newest prospect’s, running ‘round cleaning shit that don’t need cleaning cuz the place is dead right now. Just turned 7am so the bar ain’t officially open and all the boys are probably sleeping off their hangovers and whores from last night upstairs.

  Over to my left, the stools, booths, the pool area—all of it’s spotless. This new guy is doing a bang up job; that’s for damn sure. He knows how to pull his weight, unlike some of the others. He’s been like that since Mullet brought him in ten months ago. Excelled at all the training thrown his way and never once complained. He’s got my vote. Kid will likely be patched in soon.

  Speaking of Mullet, aka Gus Elver, I notice him hunched over the bar on one of the stools, groaning.

  “Bourbon,” I hear him bark at Billy as me and Runner approach.

  Runner slides onto the stool next to him and slaps him on the back. “Late nights taking their toll, old man?”

  Mullet turns his head and gives him a death stare that would have lesser men pissing their pants. “Fucking kid. This old man can still kick your skinny little ass.”

  He probably could too. He’s a big guy like me—unlike Runner who’s much smaller with a pretty boy face and spiky hair full of gel that the rest of us give him shit for. Agile as fuck though and quick as a cat in a fight. But Mullet’s got the experience of forty odd years running with the Thorns under his belt. Guy’s got balls of steel, even if he does look like he just stepped outta an eighties hairband with that hair of his. Yeah, a mullet. Fortunately for his rep, he never went in for the girly fashion that those prissy pricks used to sport back then. I swear he’s been wearing the same oversized white t-shirt and baggy holey jeans for the last couple of decades that I’ve known him. Probably way longer. He’s the guy who trains all the prospects, takes ‘em under his wing. Feels like
a lifetime ago when me and Runner were in that boat. We came up together. Closest thing to a best friend I got.

  “What’s up with you?” Mullet asks me.

  Runner signals Billy to bring us over a couple of scotches.

  “Nothing,” I respond, snatching up the glass that Billy slides to me and downing the damn thing in one gulp.

  “Needs to get his dick wet,” Runner laughs. “Thought you woulda been getting some city pussy on that shit mission Prez sent you on.”

  Mullet studies me as he sips at his bourbon. His lips crease into a knowing smile. “Looks like he did. And not club whore pussy like you, fucker. Quality. Explains his sour mood. Quality bitches usually mean complications. Maintenance. Can’t just fuck ‘n’ chuck ‘em, or you end up getting your balls handed to you. Plus, you know, those scratches on his neck give him away too.”

  Runner eyes Rox’s blood-red scratches all over my neck and then he stares at me, his eyes wide. “He right, Ax?”

  Fuck.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket then, saving me. I pull it out and see a text: Are you okay? Rox. How’d she get my number? We never ended up exchanging cell numbers. Wow, she’s got some pull somewhere, that’s for sure.

  Am I okay? No, I ain’t okay. But I sure as hell don’t feel like talking ‘bout any of that shit right now, especially not with her. I gotta get it straight in my head first. I don’t bother responding. I just stuff my phone back in my pocket.

  This woman is screwing with my head. Even before I found out her connection to my mom’s murder. I can’t get a read on her. So hot and cold. I can’t figure her out. And, for the life of me, I dunno why I’m even tryin’ to. Sure, the sex was good. All right, it was more than good. Fucking mind blowing. And it weren’t just sex. Way more than that. I ain’t never felt shit like this for a woman ever and...no! Enough of this bullshit.

  Suddenly, Smiter comes bursting through the bar. He storms over to the doors, clearly on a mission.

  “Shit going down?” Mullet asks.

  Smiter stops to dial a number on his cell. “Gonna find out.” He looks away as his call gets picked up. “Yeah. You what? Why, you dipshit? I don’t give a damn if she offered to double team with the both of you fuck ups. Yeah, you’re in trouble. No, just leave it. I’ll take care of it.” He hangs up, cursing as he puts his phone away. “Your fucking guys, Mullet,” he grumbles.

  “What’d they do?”

  “They just let some pushy bitch through the gates.”

  “Who?”

  “Dunno. They didn’t even ask her name. Too busy staring at her tits.”

  “Wrong time of day for pussy, but I’ll take it,” Runner says.

  Smiter shakes his head. “You horny fuck. You only just sent that brunette on her way. No doubt, you were pounding her all night long, as usual.”

  Smiter and Runner’s rooms are right next door. Sucks for Smiter cuz Runner’s the biggest whore of all of us. He can fuck all night and day and then be craving it again just minutes later. Sex addict.

  A knock on the doors shuts all of us up. Nah, not a knock, more like an assault.

  Smiter raises his eyebrows. “Damn, got a hard ass knock for a woman.”

  He hauls open the door aggressively, taking up the width of it so the rest of us can’t see a damn thing.

  “Smiter. Long time, no see.”

  I recognize the voice right away. If I were standing, I’d be on my ass just from the shock alone.

  It’s Rox standing there on the doorstep.

  Is she crazy? Coming to the clubhouse? Yeah, I was right the first time: bitch has a death wish.

  Smiter looks back at me. I shake my head. I don’t wanna see her. Send her away. He turns back to Rox, shifting his weight awkwardly. “Ax ain’t up for talking, sweetheart. Needs to get his head straight, you know?” he says, kindly. Wow, he must’ve taken a liking to her cuz I ain’t never heard him speak to no one so gently before, not even the women he’s tryin’ to fuck.

  I can feel Runner’s gaze burning into me, wanting the story here. But I ignore him. I’m too focused on what’s going on over at the door.

  “I’m not here to see him,” she answers.

  “Sweetheart, as much as I like you, I ain’t going there with you. Don’t do the revenge fuck thing on my brothers, you know?”

  “Urgh. No, Smiter. Trigger. I’m here to see him. A business meeting? I called him on my way up here. Aren’t you the club’s enforcer? How come you don’t know?”

  “I just got back, sweetheart.”

  “What? You guys left Brockford hours ago.”

  “Yeah, Ax had trouble riding cuz of the gunshot wound to his arm. Nasty ache causing him pain.”

  “Oh,” she says, sounding concerned. Then she does what she normally does: turns it off. She clears her throat and says, all business like, “Well, let me in. I need to see Trigger.”

  That’s it!

  I storm over to the door, pushing Smiter outta the way. I block the doorway with my body and glare at Rox.

  “I’ll have Trig meet you somewhere else. Not here.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Why not here?”

  “Women ain’t allowed inside. Unless we’re throwing a pussy party. And, babe, I know you ain’t here for that, right? I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t spread your legs for bikers, yeah? Just this biker.”

  “You’re disgusting,” she spits at me.

  “Go.”

  But she just stands there staring me down. Stubborn ass woman!

  “I know you’re upset, but—”

  I scoff. “Upset? Babe, I don’t do upset. Upset is for bitches like you, not guys like me.”

  She steps into me, getting in my face. “How dare you?”

  “Leave.”

  “This isn’t about you, Neil. Now stop being an immature limp-dicked asshole and step aside.”

  The boys wolf whistle behind me at her brutal insult.

  Disrespecting me on my own turf? Ain’t fucking happening. Before I can stop myself, I call behind me to the boys, “Hates bikers, but spread her legs for me. Grade A golden pussy.” I lick my lips at her. “Virgin tight, too.”

  All the boys, except Smiter, snicker behind me.

  I turn to see him shaking his head at me.

  Her fist comes at me so damn quickly all of a sudden that I fail to stop it in time before it plunges into the side of my face. I actually stumble back a little and not just from the shock of it. Shit, she’s got some insane power behind her punches. To be able to knock me back? Holy hell.

  She steps into me as I rub my face and hisses, “Unless you want me to castrate you right here and now with my glock, go get Trigger, you piece of shit.”

  Wolf whistles sound behind me again, along with a couple of gasps.

  “They let her through the gates armed?” Smiter gripes under his breath. “Unbelievable.”

  Me and Rox lock eyes fiercely.

  And then she delivers a knockout blow. “Just like Skinner,” she spits at me.

  What. The. Fuck? I stare at her, my gaze boring right into hers. All I can do is stare, mirroring the stunned silence behind me inside the clubhouse. Everyone knows ‘bout my old man. And the one thing they know above all else when it comes to that fuck is to never make any comparison between me and him. And here she is now doing just that. Way below the belt. So damn low.

  “Ax!” Prez’s voice calls to me suddenly. I hear his heavy footsteps behind me. “Step aside,” he warns when I don’t move a muscle. “Let her in.”

  He lays his hand on my shoulder, squeezing painfully. “Now,” he growls in my ear.

  Still seething at Rox, I do as he orders and step back.

  She brushes past me without a word and walks into the clubhouse with Trig. And still I can’t move. I don’t even turn around. I just stand there in stunned silence.

  Chapter 17

  ~Roxana~

  I can’t believe I just made a deal with Black Thorns. Shit. But I’m in a tough spo
t right now. There was little choice. I need their muscle—for now. And Trigger was more than willing to work with me and partner up once I told him my return offer. But I’m not stupid and, no matter what, I will still be in control here.

  What happened up at the truck stop is weighing heavily on me. I can’t stop the awful memories flaring up and flashing through my mind. The blood. The look on the faces of my guys—knowing they were about to die. It was brutal. I’ve seen a lot doing what I do, but that…that was too much. But I can’t break down right now. I need to focus on this war. I have to hold it together or I’m gonna lose everything. I have to stop Skinner. I have to end this.

  And then I can finally let myself grieve. I have to remain numb; compartmentalize what happened. Fortunately, I have some experience in that area. When I was sixteen, I witnessed my mom and dad’s accident—the day they were murdered. I went off the rails after that—drinking heavily and doing some bad stuff. Until Ralph came along and helped me. I learned how to channel tragedy and grief in a healthier way. The product being my successful position in Brockford now—all I’ve built there.

  I turn off the hallway, into the main bar area and hangout of the clubhouse. I’ve never been in here before. When my dad was president, I wasn’t allowed inside. He was worried about the guys taking an interest. Even though touching the President’s daughter is forbidden, there’s always a couple who will risk it just for the thrill and danger of it.

  There are a bunch of bikers sitting up at the bar like when I first walked in earlier.

  All eyes are on me, but I don’t give a crap. I continue walking towards the exit.

  I push it open and step outside into a hell of a storm. Great.

  “You can’t ride in this weather.”

  It’s Neil’s voice and it scares the shit out of me, because I didn’t know he was there. I turn to my left and see him leaning against the wall smoking. He’s dry, the canopy overhead shielding him from the rain.