Glacier

by Violet Blaze

  “Royal had a disease?”

  Lyric snorts at that.

  “No, thank god. We just didn't practice safe sex, and I count myself very lucky to not have gotten pregnant or … anything else.”

  “Are you going to tell my mom about this?” I ask and there's a long quiet pause.

  “No.” Lyric sighs as we hit the edge of the city, curving toward the sea. As soon as we get on the road that borders the edge of the ocean, a dangerous stretch called Scenic Drive, I relax a little. We're heading to Lyric's place. She and Royal live in this gorgeous old Victorian with sweeping ocean views and a giant fireplace. One day, I'd like to have a house like that. “But I want you to know that I am going to talk to Glacier.”

  Chills chase down my spine.

  “Please don't.”

  “I already warned him that if he touched you again, I'd cut his balls off.”

  I give her a look and I know she catches it, staring back at me from the corner of her eye.

  “I've only seen them twice, but I think I kind of like them, okay? Maybe something less drastic?” She laughs, but it's breathy and strained. “He's not taking advantage of me. In fact, he's been trying to run from me for a month now. If anything, it's me chasing him.”

  “Listen, I'm not judging you. You don't have to defend yourself to me. I know what it's like to fall in love with someone you're not supposed to love, that you can't have, that you shouldn't want. Love is … she doesn't like to take no for an answer.” Lyric's lips quirk up at the corner as she pulls into the driveway of the towering blue and white house across from the sea. She puts the truck in park, kills the engine. “Let's get you cleaned up …” she starts and then trails off when I hold up the shredded panties.

  “Any chance you have a brand-new pair of underwear lying around that I could steal?”

  She blinks her big green eyes at me and then smiles.

  “Actually, I have sort of an … addiction to underwear. I have more brand-new pairs in this house than a Victoria's Secret superstore. Come on and I'll get you suited up.”

  Lyric sets me up with a shower, a pair of black boyshorts with the tags still on, and a pair of her husband's sweatpants since hers would be ridiculously short on me. I want it to be noted: I did not change out of my skirt because of what my father said. Fuck him. I changed because I felt … well, sore for one, exposed, tender.

  “This is going to blow,” I say as we head back towards the Alpha Wolves Compound, my heart galloping inside my chest. I can feel its stampede all over my skin. I have literally no idea what I'm going to say. What I absolutely cannot do is let on that there's anything happening between Glacier and me. I need to play off the earlier incident as something else entirely. No clue how I'm going to do that, but I have to try. I have to protect him.

  “It'll work itself out,” Lyric says with confidence and I feel better, knowing I have her by my side. An adult that actually listens to me. You have no idea how much that means. “Just put in your hours here; I'll hang out. Then after, we can go to the office together.”

  “You don't think he thought I was running away, do you?” I ask because it's just now occurred to me that it might appear that way from the outside, like I was fleeing the situation. Really, all I was trying to do was diffuse the violence and remove the trigger—me.

  “I have no idea,” Lyric says, making me feel a little frumpy in my sweats and midriff top. She's got on a freaking suit, like red skirt, red jacket, button-up black blouse underneath. Very professional. I can't even believe that she's married to the president.

  We pull into the compound and I feel sweat start to pool on my lower back.

  Crap. Fuck.

  Oh my God.

  I shove open the door to the truck and climb out before Lyric's even set the parking brake. Cool wind teases my bare back and belly and I reach over, dragging my borrowed sweatshirt up my shoulder. I zip it up all the way to my neck and try to decide the best course of action here: Glacier, Mom, or Dad. Who do I try to see first?

  That decision gets taken away from me.

  “Serenity.”

  It's Royal McBride.

  I move around the truck to stand next to Lyric, feeling a hell of a lot better with her by my side. I mean, I like Royal; he's always been nice to me. I'm the only person on this compound besides his wife that knows that he actually prefers tea to coffee. It's our little secret. Right now though? He looks pretty pissed off. At least all the blood is gone from his face.

  “Royal,” Lyric says and in her voice is a warning that makes me smile; she's defending me. He frowns at her, but he doesn't say anything, refocusing his attention to my face. Lyric let the dogs out, so they're snuffling around our feet, heads hanging low, tails wagging softly as they greet their master. He ignores them completely.

  “Where is he?” I ask, keeping my voice strong and sure. We both know who I'm talking about.

  “In the garage,” Royal says, putting a hand on my shoulder to stop me when I start to move. His brown eyes are deadly serious as he locks them on my face. “What's going on here?” he asks me, and there's this edge of authority in his voice that he's never used on me before.

  I look over at Lyric and she nods her head slightly. I glance back at Royal.

  “I'm not sure yet,” I say and I make certain to look Glacier's president straight in the face. If I'm going to make this work, we have to have Royal on our side. “But I need to talk to Saint. Right now.”

  “Saint, huh?” Royal asks and then he sighs, like he's exhausted or something. “He's in the garage,” he repeats, giving me a very stern look, “but Saint, he's lost the damn plot. Be careful in there and if you need me, just yell.”

  “He won't hurt me,” I repeat, but it doesn't really matter, does it? Nobody understands the real Saint beneath Glacier. “My dad?” I ask as I start walking and then pause, glancing back over my shoulder.

  “In the bar,” Royal says, tucking his tattooed hand in his pocket, Lyric standing by his side, a full foot shorter. “You have ten minutes before I tell them that you're here.”

  “Thanks,” I say and then I'm moving across the pavement as fast as my feet will carry me, my heart racing again, suddenly desperate to see Saint. I start to run, my boots pounding the wet cement beneath my feet, wind blowing my hair back. It only takes me a minute to close the distance between us, but it feels like forever.

  I whip around the corner of the garage door and he's just there, like he's waiting for me.

  Actually, I run straight into him and he grabs me by the upper arms—much more gently this time.

  “Saint,” I say as I pause and look him in the face, my heart stuttering in my chest. “Are you okay?” There's blood literally all over him, on his lips and his chin and his neck, soaking into the fabric of his white wifebeater. But his blue eyes are clear and focused on mine. “Did Jack do this?”

  “It's okay; I deserved it,” he says, still holding onto my upper arms. His fingers burn, even through the fabric of the black zip-up. “I attacked my own brother.”

  “What did you say to him?” I ask, noting that one of his silver lip rings is missing. I lift a finger up and press it against the bloodied hole. Saint's breath hisses out and he takes a step away from me, letting go, putting space between us.

  “Say to him?” he asks, looking at me like he's trying to puzzle me all the hell out. His pale blue eyes rake my body, stirring up coals and embers, lighting me on fire from the inside. “I didn't say anything to Jack. I let him do what needed to be done, and then I walked away. I was waiting for you.”

  Those words … they shouldn't matter so much, but they do. I get the chills when he says them.

  I wring the ends of the sweatshirt between my hands as Saint takes a few, careful steps back and sits down on the seat of a sleek black bike with the number 66 on the side in white—Royal's bike. It got trashed last month, on that same night Mom got shot, when the boys went full throttle and took down the bastards that did the shooting.
Glacier's done a good job on it; it looks almost brand-new.

  He crosses his muscular arms over his chest, the leather of his cut rustling with the movement.

  “Where did you go?” he asks me as I stand there, feeling the minutes trickling away like sand in an hourglass. All I want is to … to explore this new connection that Glacier and I made today, test it out, see how far he'll let me go.

  “I had Lyric pick me up and take me back to her place, so I could shower.”

  Saint purses his bloody lips, presses at the hole next to his mouth with his tongue, but not like he's upset, more like he's waiting. I keep talking.

  “I realized after I left that it might seem like I was running away; I wasn't. I just wanted you to know that. I just felt like if I didn't get out of there, Dad might do something crazy.” A pause. “You might do something crazy.”

  “That was a good choice on your part,” Saint tells me, his voice bleeding cold, turning him into Glacier again. I stare at him, at his crossed arms, the way his tattoos emphasize the muscular cut of his shoulders. He's strong, really strong. Even just sitting there, I can see it. But it's written all over him—in the way he stands, the way he moves, the air of danger that surrounds him. “If I see him touch you again, I'll kill him.”

  “Saint—”

  He stands up suddenly and I stop talking as he blinks, slow and careful, reigning in whatever he's feeling.

  “For the record, I think you're beautiful—no matter what you wear.” I try to say something, but my throat gets tight and the words won't come out. “You're not a whore and you don't look like one, not in a short skirt, not ever.”

  “Saint—” Again, I'm interrupted.

  “Serenity!”

  It's my mother, her voice echoing across the compound.

  “Go,” Glacier tells me, turning around and bending down next to Royal's bike. His back muscles are tight and he looks like he's about to explode. Before I leave, I step over to him, put my fingers on his shoulders. He stiffens up for a split second, but I dig my fingertips in for a moment and massage some of the tension away. It actually seems to work. “How can I find you later?” he asks and my breath catches.

  “Come pick me up from the mayor's office at six,” I tell him, reluctantly drawing my hands away as the sound of my mom's yelling gets closer. She is pissed the hell off. Even without seeing her face, I know this is going to be bad.

  I turn and start to walk away when an arm snakes around my waist and tugs me back. I gasp as Glacier puts his face in my hair and breathes deep.

  “I'm not like your high school boyfriend,” he says.

  “I know that.”

  “In fact, I'm not like a boyfriend at all. You asked me if I remembered that day when I let you ride my bike? I do. I've been fighting to stay away from you ever since. That night in the clubhouse, you broke something inside of me. If you're determined to force my hand, I'll give it to you. But once I do, there's no going back.”

  He kisses the side of my throat and I feel my body start to shake with adrenaline and need. My sex tightens mercilessly, floods my new panties. My nipples harden beneath the sweatshirt and somehow, Glacier finds them, his right hand cupping my breast through the fabric, his knuckles spelling the word BURY in bold black script.

  “If you make me your monster, Serenity, then I'm yours forever. Think really, really hard about that before you make your decision.”

  And then he lets me go and steps away. I can't look back at him or I'll just stay in the garage all day talking and touching and staring.

  I leave the way I came and find Fauna just steps away from the garage door.

  “What the hell are you doing back here?” she asks, pushing past me and stepping into the shadows. I follow after her, my heart in my throat, but there's nobody there. Glacier's gone. He must've slipped through one of the other doors, into the break room or something.

  “Just trying to get some space,” I say before my mom turns and looks at me, really looks at me, at the sweatshirt and the sweatpants. Good thing I decided to take the time to blow-dry my hair.

  “Where the hell did you go?” she asks me, and I know that I have to lie to protect Saint. From the outside, I get how bad this all looks. Me, seventeen years old and inexperienced as hell. Saint, thirty years old, an officer in my father's motorcycle club. And now I'm lying to my mother, running away to hide the evidence of my sins. If I had a girlfriend telling this story to me, I'd probably kick her ass and try to get the guy arrested on statutory rape charges.

  But … this is different.

  “Lyric and I had made plans to go shopping for office appropriate attire,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “I forgot I'd asked her until she showed up and by then, everything was just so crazy I wanted to get the hell out of here.”

  “And the clothes?” she asks, but not like she believes me at all, her blue eyes piercing through my skull.

  “Dad said I looked like a fucking whore and a groupie, so I changed.”

  “Oh for Christ's sake,” she snaps, putting her palm against her forehead. I feel bad, putting her through all of this considering what she went through last month. Mom was shot; Mom almost died. She doesn't need this crap. She drops her hand to her side with a long, drawn-out sigh. “Your dad says you ran off with Glacier—into the woods. What the hell were you thinking? We've talked about your infatuation with that man several times already.” A pause and then before I can get anything else out. “Has he touched you?”

  “No!” I say as my mom gives me her best hard-ass stare, putting a hand on her hip and breathing deep. Before the incident at the grocery store, she always wore halters and skinny jeans, boots and belts with big buckles. Mom works the club's bar almost every night, serving drinks to my dad and his brothers. Dressing up's a big part of all that. Now, she wears baggy t-shirts with the Alpha Wolves logo on them and sweats most days.

  “You ran off with him,” she repeats, waiting for an explanation.

  “I was trying to help. Dad and Glacier started fighting and I pulled him away. I knew if I didn't get him out of there, he and Dad would get into it again. Mom, I've grown up on this compound. No matter what you think or how you feel, this is part of who I am. I've seen brothers fucking groupies in the clubhouse in broad daylight, seen men beat the pulp out of each other more times than I can count. I know how it all works, whether you like it or not.”

  “And why were they fighting in the first place?” she asks me, like she's truly curious. Maybe even dad doesn't know what really happened? I mean, it all went down so fast …

  “I have no clue. One minute, Dad was yelling at me and then … Glacier just snapped.”

  Fauna sighs.

  “I've never liked that man,” she says, this protective edge to her voice that almost makes me smile. Mom loves Dad, despite all his faults. I know she'd beat Glacier up herself if she was capable. “Let's go. Glinda's still not feeling her best, and there's a flood of customers in the café.”

  “On it,” I say as I follow after her to the coffee shop. Glinda's another old lady, married to the club secretary, Mick. She also got shot the night Mom did, though not nearly as badly. Their other friend, Janae, the vice president's wife, was there, too. Lyric saved them all. That's how I know I can trust her.

  I glance back over my shoulder and find Glacier watching me from outside the garage, his eyes as blue as the sky above the sea.

  I don't know what exactly is going to happen between us, but something is and whether good or bad, it's better than all of this waiting I've been doing.

  Since I was fifteen years old, I've wanted Saint to look at me the way he's looking at me today—like he wants me as much as I want him.

  Maybe more.

  The physical pain of Jack's fists is nothing to me. Less than nothing. I don't even bother to clean off the blood until Lyric passes by the garage and gives me a look, Royal standing behind her. Clearly, they both know more than Jack or Fauna. Maybe they even know more than me?


  Inside, this twisting, writhing thing exists for Serenity, coils and strikes against my rib cage. I have no clue what I'm going to do about it. All of a sudden, I just know that I need her in a way I've never needed anyone before.

  “What can I do ya for, Boss?” I drawl as they stand there and stare at me, not at all fooled by my words. How could they be when my tone is frostbitten and dead? It's all a front, just me holding back the frothing, snapping jaws of the beast. I want Serenity and I want her now. I've never really wanted anything before; it's fucking disconcerting.

  “Clean the damn blood off your face,” my president says, tossing a damp cloth at me. “And tell me what your plan is.”

  “My plan?” I ask as Lyric crosses her arms over her chest and looks at me sympathetically. Nobody ever looks at me like that. If she feels sorry for me, she really must sense something I don't. “For what?”

  “Serenity,” Royal says, glancing to his left, like he expects Jack to sneak up on us at any minute.

  “I don't have a plan,” I say as I continue to work on the wiring on this foreign piece of shit in front of me. My hands are shaking, and I can barely see what I'm doing. That layer of ice … it has a crack in it and all kinds of things are flooding out.

  “Well get one—and do it quick. The last thing we need are factions developing over this shit.”

  I stop working then and turn fully around, still squatting but giving Royal my full attention.

  “Factions,” I say, but it's not a question. I know what he means. Between the Trinidad Chapter of the Alpha Wolves and the six others around the country, there are two groups: the old-timers and … us. Guys like Royal and me and Smoky and Mug. We do things differently, think differently. Royal is … well, he's telling me he'll go to bat for me. Over Serenity.

  I smile—it's almost real—and rise to my feet.

  “Oh? You'll fight for me to keep my girl?” I ask. “Love really has changed you, Boss.”