“I never asked you to take that rap for me!” Deuce shouted. “You need to reel your fuckin’ bullshit in, right the fuck now!”
Mick jumped up out of his seat and slammed his clenched fists down upon the tabletop. “But I fuckin’ did! Because your old man had just kicked the bucket and this fuckin’ club needed some stability for fuckin’ once, not another prez who was locked up!”
“That was almost forty fuckin’ years ago,” Deuce said, purposely punctuating each word. Gripping the edge of the meeting table, he leaned forward, bringing him nearly nose to nose with Mick. “Why are you bringin’ this shit up now? You want me to suck your dick or somethin’?”
Normally, a comment like that would have sent the rest of the boys into a fit of laughter, followed by more lewd comments or gestures, but not today. Tension was high, and even the most lighthearted of the brothers were sitting stone faced in their seats.
“He never fuckin’ told me,” Ripper suddenly muttered. “What the fuck . . .”
Out of everyone crammed inside Deuce’s office, Ripper looked the most put out, even more so than Mick. Probably because he’d been the closest to Hawk, more than anyone else associated with the club.
Except for Dorothy, Jase thought bitterly. Obviously she’d been a hell of a lot closer to Hawk than Ripper had.
Deuce tore his angry stare away from Mick and pinned it on Ripper. “He was under my fuckin’ orders not to tell a damn one of you! Do you do shit I tell you not to fuckin’ do . . .”
Deuce trailed off and closed his eyes. “Never mind,” he said, sighing. “Of course you fuckin’ do.”
Seated beside Ripper, Cox elbowed him in the ribs. “He’s talkin’ ’bout you fuckin’ his daughter,” he whispered loudly. “We weren’t supposed to do that, dude, and you didn’t listen.”
Ripper shoved Cox and in turn Cox shoved Ripper, and as the two of them proceeded to shove and slap at each other like the two little girls they often acted like, the rest of the room burst into a fit of laughter. The thick tension that had been holding the entire room hostage for well over an hour seemed to evaporate. Even Deuce and Mick, who—other than Jase—were the only two club members not laughing, looked more at ease than they had only moments ago.
And just like that Jase was no longer amused, but instead, straight-up pissed the fuck off. Slamming his palms down on the table, he shoved his chair back and shot to his feet. Of course, since he was shitfaced, he had to continue holding on to the table for a few more seconds to ensure he wouldn’t go toppling backward along with his chair.
Heads shot up all around the room as his brothers peered curiously at him with raised eyebrows. He paid them no attention as he stumbled his way to the office door, more than ready to be done with this bullshit meeting.
“Jase!” Deuce bellowed and he paused, his hand on the doorknob. “I didn’t say you could leave. This is a meeting and a vote. I made that pretty fuckin’ clear.”
Jase glanced over his shoulder at his president and narrowed his eyes. “I don’t give a fuck what you do with Hawk,” he spat venomously. “Or Luca, or whoever the fuck he is. My vote goes to the club.”
Yanking one of the office’s double doors open, Jase forced his body into action, managing to stay upright just long enough to breach the doorway and slam the door closed behind him with enough force that the connecting walls shook in response.
With every intention of heading straight for the bar and the copious amount of booze beckoning him from its shelves, he spun away from the still-rattling door and started forward.
“Jase?”
Recognizing the voice, he froze in lumbering midstride and nearly fell over because of it. He’d known Dorothy was here, or at least he’d known she was in town, but had already figured he wouldn’t be seeing her, since she usually went to great lengths to ensure she was never in the same place at the same time he was. Never in a million years would he have guessed she would have come to the club.
Slowly, he turned to face her, squinting across the considerable distance between them, and found her standing just outside the hallway that led to the kitchen. He looked her up and down, just drinking her in for the first time in what felt like far too long.
Gone was the fresh-faced girl next door he’d fallen for. She no longer carried with her that aura of innocence and naïveté she’d held throughout her twenties and thirties. No, Dorothy finally looked like the grown woman she was. Her features had matured, sharpened, were no longer cute, but instead a refined sort of beautiful.
“Dorothy,” he said quietly, focusing on her face and those big and beautiful green eyes of hers. Her eyes hadn’t changed, and for some reason he took comfort in that. “I didn’t realize—”
“The vote,” she said tersely, interrupting him. “Did you vote yet?”
Jase’s mouth snapped shut as he noticed for the first time the slight tremble of her lips, her rigid posture, the way she was gripping her hands, wringing them together.
She was afraid.
For motherfucking Hawk.
Of course she was. After all, she had come all the way from California just to find out what was going on with him. But what Jase had initially thought was only concern for the sake of her son’s father, looked to be something else entirely.
Jesus fucking Christ, did she still have feelings for the man? Did the two of them have something going on that no one else knew about . . . again?
Feeling suddenly awkward, he reached up to rub his hand across the back of his neck, using the maneuver to avert his eyes, hoping she didn’t realize the sudden overwhelming disappointment that had gripped hold of his heart.
“I . . . uh . . .” He stumbled over his words, trying to form an answer that didn’t include telling her he’d just announced how much he didn’t care whether Hawk lived or died, seeing as she so obviously did care.
“No vote yet,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m just taking a piss break.”
Nodding, Dorothy’s lips pressed tightly together and her eyes perceptibly widened. He knew that look, had seen it hundreds of times before. It was the face she made when she was desperately trying not to cry. Seeing that, something rattled painfully inside Jase’s chest, and his insides clenched uncomfortably. He hated that face, he fucking loathed it . . . mostly because he’d always been the cause of it.
“Don’t worry,” he said quickly. “We’ll bring him home.”
“Okay,” she whispered, nodding more to herself than to him. “I’ll just be . . . I’ll just be in the kitchen.”
He watched her disappear around the corner, listened as the swinging doors to the kitchen creaked back and forth as she passed through them, and shortly after that came the banging of pots and pans.
Something warm burst forth within his gut, easing the uncomfortable tightening that had taken root. She was back, not only in Miles City but inside the clubhouse, and back inside the kitchen no less.
It was so fucking familiar and, goddamn him, so incredibly comforting. After so many years of feeling nothing but the cold shoulder from both her and his family, feeling this semblance of his past, a place where he’d been happy and content, was more than welcome.
And he didn’t want to lose it.
Turning around, he burst back into Deuce’s office. Ignoring the stares of everyone in the room, he marched forward, shoved Anger out of the chair he’d been occupying before he’d left the room, and reclaimed his seat.
When it came time for him to cast his vote, he looked directly into Deuce’s narrowed eyes, raised two fingers in the air, and answered, “Yay. Bring him home.”
What bringing Hawk home would accomplish, other than putting Deuce and Preacher at the mercy of the Russian cartel, Jase didn’t know. All he knew was that it would keep Dorothy around, if only for a little while longer . . . as well as keep her from crying.
At the very least, he owed her that much.
Chapter Seven
The more things change, the more they stay the s
ame.
— Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr
“Weird, isn’t it?”
Tearing my gaze away from my daughter and the group of young woman who were surrounding her, I glanced to where Eva was seated beside me on a long leather couch. Seated beside Eva was Kami, and to my left was Kajika, a Native American woman from a nearby Indian reservation who Cox and Kami had employed as their nanny, but now held my former position around the clubhouse, cooking and cleaning up after the boys. Something I had only just found out after being scolded for disrupting her highly organized cupboard system. Who knew plates had to be stacked according to size and shape?
“What’s weird?” I asked.
Pushing her headphones off her ears, Eva smirked. “Them,” she said, gesturing to Tegen and the other women. “And us. We used to be them, young and hot, the center of attention inside the club, and now we’re not. We’ve become the actual old ladies.
“Strangely enough,” she continued, shrugging, “I don’t mind. I feel like it’s the natural progression of things, and we’re all exactly where we’re supposed to be.”
Knowing exactly what she was up to, attempting to distract me while we all waited for Preacher to arrive from New York City, I decided to play along instead of dwelling on the agony of wondering what was going to happen next, or worse, if Hawk would survive it.
Or . . . who Hawk truly was, something that I couldn’t exactly bring myself to think on quite yet. I’d sat inside Deuce’s office and quietly listened, absorbing the wild story he’d told me about the son of a mob boss he’d found living on the streets. In return for saving his life and giving him the protection he’d needed, Deuce had only asked for one thing in return . . . his loyalty.
Now, Hawk had been kidnapped by an uncle everyone had thought dead or living on the lam, and who was threatening to turn either kill Hawk or turn him over to the federal government if Deuce and Preacher didn’t concede to their terms.
It was a little too much to take in all at once, more so because Hawk wasn’t here to confirm any of it, or let me berate him for lying to me all these years.
Although it finally made sense to me why Hawk never insisted on Christopher taking his last name. Young wasn’t his actual name.
And for some reason, knowing that was why, because he’d been in hiding and hadn’t been able to give his son his real last name, hurt my heart in a way that left me physically aching.
“I don’t mind either,” I said. It was true that I’d never been one for the spotlight, even in my youth. While most of the other women who’d hung around the clubhouse had always tried to outdo one another when it came sex appeal, I’d never even attempted it. Being wanted by many wasn’t something I’d ever aspired to, despite the way my life had gone.
“Speak for yourselves,” Kami retorted. Leaning back against the couch, she folded her bony arms across her chest, purposely pulling down the neckline of her lacy black camisole. “I’m still hot. Forties are the new twenties, ladies.”
My eyebrows shot up and I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped me. “Are you serious?” I exclaimed. “Forties are the new twenties?”
My forties were most definitely not my twenties. Most mornings I stood in front of the mirror staring down my reflection, wondering disparagingly where my twenties and thirties had gone to. That wasn’t to say I felt myself ugly or lacking. Other than the slight signs of aging around my eyes, I’d been blessed with very fair freckled skin that had kept up its elasticity nicely through two children and four decades, even though not everything on my body was as perky as it once had been. Not that it mattered. Since I was no longer having sex, hadn’t engaged in anything more than meaningless kisses after a few awkward dates with men I hadn’t felt more than a speck of interest for, since . . . since Jase and I were last together.
Looking to the bar, where I’d last seen Jase, I found him watching me. Setting down his glass, he smiled kindly at me. The smile didn’t sit well with me and, suddenly awash with discomfort, I quickly looked away.
“Ignore her,” Eva said, laughing. “She’s full of shit. Since realizing she’s now the mother of a teenager, every year she’s doing something new and ridiculously expensive to try and stop the aging process. This year she’s given up sex.”
My mouth fell open and my surprised gaze flitted back to Kami. “You gave up sex?” I sputtered. “Are you blackmailing Cox again?”
Aside from the two beautiful boys they’d produced together, Cox and Kami were notorious for two things: Fighting. And sex. All the time. If they weren’t doing one, they were doing the other, or engaging in both at the same time.
Crossing one leg over the other, showcasing her expensive black heeled boots, Kami sniffed imperiously. “Fuck that asshole. Forty-three years old and he’s still going at it like a jackhammer on crack every chance he gets. He was wearing me out! It’s his fault I’m getting wrinkles!”
Eva rolled her eyes. “You don’t have wrinkles.”
“I do!” Kami protested. “You just can’t see them when they’re hiding behind the Botox! And these strange little hairs were appearing in the worst possible places! It is all Cox’s fault!”
I was still staring at her, my mouth agape. “Wait,” I said. “I’m sorry, but I’m still stuck on the fact that you and Cox aren’t having sex.”
Turning to me, her big eyes wide, Eva mouthed, “Kami isn’t having sex.” Then she wrinkled her nose and gave a slight shake of her head.
And I knew exactly what she was trying to convey to me. Although we came from vastly different upbringings, where Eva had spent her entire life within the confines of a motorcycle club and their social norms, I too had spent a good portion of mine here as well. And I knew exactly how things worked, more so than most.
And what she was telling me was that Kami wasn’t having sex, but Cox most certainly still was.
“He’s adapting,” Kami added. “I’ve had to tase him less and less lately in order to get a good night’s sleep.”
Beside me, Kajika let out a long-suffering sigh, the look on her face speaking volumes about Cox and Kami’s demented relationship. “One would think working for a group of bikers would be worse than being a nanny,” she said, “but after living with you and your family . . . I know now there is nothing on earth worse than that.”
“I don’t blame you at all.” Eva laughed.
“Please, Evie,” Kami said. “How can you judge me? At least my husband isn’t a grandfather.”
“And how old is Cox’s daughter now?” Eva asked, turning to wink at me. “He could be a grandfather sooner than you think.”
Kami’s nose wrinkled. “I’m not sure how old she is. Her mother told Cox I’m a bad influence, so she’s not around much anymore.”
Pressing her lips together, Eva rolled her body against mine and buried her face in my shoulder. As she shook with silent laughter, I was unable to stop the snort that escaped me. Dropping my face into Eva’s mass of long brown hair, I burst into a fit of giggles.
“What?” Kami yelled. “You bitches! I am not a bad influence!”
“Yes,” Kajika said dryly. “You’re a pillar of female empowerment, a model all young girls should aspire to become.”
“Fuck you,” Kami said with a snarl. “Just because I don’t wander around spouting off Indian proverbs at a bunch of biker assholes and their whores in hopes of bettering their lives, doesn’t mean I’m completely useless!”
“Oh God,” Eva said, breathless with silent laughter. “Just stop . . . Please, Kami, you need to get laid so badly . . . Shit, I’m gonna pee . . . Just stop . . .”
“Please pee,” Kami snapped, “so we can throw out those disgusting jeans of yours! And that awful T-shirt. Who wears their husband’s clothing, Evie? Who, dammit, who?”
“What is so funny?”
Glancing up, we found Tegen and Danny standing above us. Tegen’s red hair hung in two long braids down her chest, and Danny was dressed in her typical pink, her blonde hair surpri
singly short in an adorable pixie cut. As they peered down at us, their expressions varied between curiously amused to downright confused.
“Nothing that concerns your wrinkle-free faces,” Kami said with a dramatic and dismissive wave of her hand. “You’re too young to understand our suffering.”
Howling with laughter, Eva fell forward, nearly falling off the couch entirely, and I quickly followed suit, collapsing on top of her. The bewildered expression on Tegen’s face only served to provoke more laughter, until I could no longer control myself and I laughed and laughed until my belly positively ached.
• • •
Seated at the bar across the room, Jase watched, smiling to himself as Dorothy fell on top of Eva in a fit of laughter. How long had it been since he’d last seen her laugh? He no longer cared that Hawk was the reason she was here, because all that mattered was she was here and she wasn’t avoiding him. In his mind, that was progress.
“Wanna hear somethin’ gross?”
Jase didn’t bother looking toward Cox. “No, I don’t.”
Nobody ever wanted to hear what Cox considered gross. It was usually on a level all its own, too repulsive to be considered simply “gross.”
“Yeah, so, you know that new bitch that’s been hangin’ around lately?”
Jase cut his eyes in Cox’s direction. “Young?” he asked. “Kinda fat?”
Cox nodded. “Yeah, that’s her. Roly-poly little bitch. Fucked her in the ass the other day and, get this, she shit all over me. I’m talkin’, this wasn’t no little mess. This was Niagara fuckin’ Falls pourin’ outta her ass.”
Jase stared at the man, cringing at the visual, wishing he had the ability to un-hear half of what Cox usually said to him. Even so, seeing Cox, a man who was covered from his neck to his toes in mostly violent and crude tattoos, who was pierced nearly everywhere humanly possible, with his eyes wide, both nodding and shaking his head, looking so damn distraught over the ridiculous story, that even in the face of his own disgust, Jase couldn’t help but laugh.
“Brother, that’s fuckin’ disgusting.”
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