Without Consequence

by Victoria L. James

  I realized a little too late that my sense of humor would probably be taken as sarcasm, or worse, an insult to the man that was Drew Tucker. I really had to learn to keep my thoughts to myself. It was exactly what had gotten me in trouble with him that afternoon.

  “I changed my mind,” he said with a mouthful of food.

  Swaying from side to side, I looked over at him and saw a small smudge of mustard on his lip and pointed at it, the words that went with the gesture being swallowed compulsively. How the hell did I have a conversation with a man like this? He’d made it clear that the only thing he was interested in was making my life difficult, so polite musings about the weather were out.

  I was, mercifully, saved by the second half starting up. The high school band was playing the school song, which had Rubin and Tate bursting out onto the field, followed by the rest of the team. As the noise died down a little, I looked over at him again.

  “What is it you changed your mind about?”

  “You.”

  My head swiveled to look at him in surprise. Of all the answers Drew could have given, that was one I hadn’t expected. “Me? What about me?”

  “I got it wrong before. Let’s put it down to me being out of practice.” He leaned forward, shuffling his ass back in the seat as he parted his knees and held the hotdog out in the space between them. “You’re not a hundred and twenty pounds at all. I’m guessing one eighteen. I over estimated the meat on your ass.” Drew turned to look at me, the smirk playing on his lips making me want to smack it off him instantly as he held my gaze and waited.

  “Very impressive, Mr. Tucker,” I said, looking over at him. “Are you saying my ass isn’t as big as you’d assumed?”

  “It’s got nothing on your mouth, doll.”

  My eyes widened, then narrowed in one jerky movement. I stopped myself and counted to ten, averting my gaze to the field where our offense was making the snap. I had to think about what I said. The kid currently sprinting toward the end zone was counting on me and I couldn’t let him down.

  “I realize that, and I’m going to try and work on that, too. I’m just grateful for the opportunity to work this off.”

  Before he could respond, I was on my feet, watching Tate sprint down the field, but covering my face at an interception. It was only when I realized Drew might conceive it as being rude that I glanced down at him again.

  When he looked up at me with nothing but light in his face, I almost felt like I’d gotten away with it for a moment. It was only when he groaned deep in the back of his throat and slowly began to rise to a stand, that I felt the small hairs on the back of my neck begin to come alive again. Drew gazed out at the field as though he was only pretending to be interested, before his feet shuffled closer and his body leaned down towards me to whisper.

  “Keep working on it. I don’t need any lip from you in front of my guys. Don’t give me a reason to be that typical asshole you have me pegged as, Ayda.” His eyes lifted to mine, looking up at me through the thick of his brows expectantly. “Just remember, I’m always watching you both now. You’re on my books, which makes you like an asset to me. I protect what’s mine.” And before I could even respond, he’d slipped some kind of paper in my pocket, whispered in my ear about me getting something to eat, dropped his empty hot dog tray on the side and started to slide out of the row full of spectators. Just. Like. That.

  I waited for a while before looking over my shoulder at his retreating back. The skull on his leather vest seemed to be smiling at me as his confident gait carried him out of my view. I wasn’t the only one watching. Everyone who had seen him come in seemed to be turned away from the game as he left, all of those eyes spinning back to me the moment he was out of view.

  There was arrogance in the way he carried himself, but at the same time, I knew it was also confidence. He seemed to understand the gravity of his status and he used it. There was a certain appeal to that, even if it did make me want to kick his shins like an elementary kid.

  Glancing down at my hand, I felt my eyes widen and then look around before doing a double take. The five and zero were still staring back up at me the second time around, and without thinking, I pushed it back into my jeans.

  I didn’t know what Drew wanted when he’d shown up. It was a rare thing for him to be alone from what I’d heard, so him being there without backup had probably spoken volumes. From the eyes still burning holes all over me, I guessed I wasn’t the only one who was thinking that.

  If his visit had done anything, it had shown me that he wasn’t just the jacked up asshole he seemed to be when surrounded by his friends. That wasn’t to say he didn’t demand respect and obedience from the people around him, and the way he spoke, it was easy to see why people complied.

  I’d also discovered that he was generous. He’d left a decent tip at the diner for me that morning, but the money now burning a hole in my pocket told me that while digging for information about me, he’d probably seen my bank balance. Whether this was pity or kindness, I couldn’t afford not to take it, even if my pride did take a hit.

  I was dreading what Sunday would bring. He’d demanded my respect in front of his men, which meant curbing myself and my natural reactions to everything. At least it would prove to be interesting. If I could get through repaying this debt, I could literally get through anything.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Drew

  There was one thing I hadn’t taken into consideration when I’d fallen back into that chair around the table.

  The working hours.

  As with everything any of us did for this club, it was all voluntary and all for a greater good. Each man played his part, did his piece and worked as hard as he could to make us stronger, more united and more profitable in the community. The problem I was having right now was figuring out what the fuck I was, apart from a puffy chest, a man with a swagger and Ayda Hanagan’s personal watcher.

  I wasn’t sure what had driven me to go to the game the previous night. I guess the only way I could explain any of it was that she provided me with something I’d not had in such a long time

  Power.

  I knew I had that over my fellow man and I knew I had that within the club without question. All it would take for me to regain what I once had was a snap of my fingers and a pointed look at Jedd to get the fuck out of my chair, and that would be that. I’d have what I had before I went inside. I’d be the chief. I’d be the alpha dog. I’d be that guy.

  Only I wasn’t sure if that’s what anybody wanted anymore. Not them, not me, not a single one of us. I’d only been out of the joint a matter of countable hours, and I still didn’t have a damn clue who the hell I was. I wasn’t sure how my steps sounded against the concrete. I didn’t know whether my plain white t-shirt hung right underneath my oversized, leather cut anymore. I had no clue who I owed my life to and whether or not my eyes still had that Grecian sea glow to them, like my mama always said they did. It wasn’t just about me taking one day at a time now. This was about me taking one minute at a time. 5.01pm. Survived that shit. 5.02pm. Still standing strong. 5.03pm. Ain’t no flies on you, brother. Yeah, I’m itching and twitching but I’m here and I’m working as best I can. 5.04pm. I need myself a mother fucking beer.

  No two moments were the same. No two thoughts went that way, either.

  So when I found myself at that football game last night, it wasn’t just Ayda that was surprised. I was riding that wave with her. The thing I knew above all else is that I had to let her know. I had to show her that no matter how confident and smart her mouth got, I would always be there in the background, watching, smirking, judging. She was in my pocket now – she and her brother. They owed me. They owed my club.

  No one got away with that kind of debt hanging around their neck for long.

  Saturday came and went without too many thoughts dragging me down or crippling me. I carried on with the train of thought that I’d shaken her up enough for her to make sure as shit she turned up on
our doorstep on Sunday night, and quite honestly, as much as I enjoyed screwing with her, she was the least of my concerns.

  When Sunday morning came around, after a previous full day of dealings over the pawn business with Harry, discussing the accounts of the place and how he saw the gold market being the most profitable for us right now, my mind was shriveling up as much as my balls were. The fact that I’d had Jedd waiting for me, too, only made things worse. I had a million things to sign that were way overdue in connection to the repo business, but I just couldn’t find my enthusiasm. It seemed I was jumping out of the prison ice freeze and straight into the MC’s financial fires. I was tired. I was pacing. And I was trying like hell to adjust before anyone noticed.

  The four walls of my bedroom were staring at me on that morning as if to challenge my every move. As I walked around the bed, roaming from one side to the other, I couldn’t take my eyes off a single one of them. Left. Right. North. South. I walked around that room in nothing more than my sweat pants and just tried to figure out what those walls represented and what I had to do for the day. No one would have thought I’d spent all those years and months inside a space much smaller than the one I was pacing, but I had and yet it had seemed a million times bigger than the one I was currently keeping myself captive in.

  And it didn’t take me long to figure out what the difference was.

  Inside, I’d kept the walls bare. There’d been nothing but grey magnolia staring back at me each and every day. I’d worked out in that cell. I’d cried, I’d slept, I’d sweat and I’d flipped the crap out, but all without judgment. I’d never had my fellow man staring down at me and I’d never had to do a stomach curl while looking into the eyes of someone I’d loved and lost.

  Yet this room…

  This room, right here.

  This room was nothing short of haunted.

  His eyes were everywhere. They were on me. They were judging and they were watching. I couldn’t even slip my hand onto my hard dick on a morning without opening my lids and seeing him staring back at me with nothing but questions.

  When are you going to make this right, Drew?

  When will you be able to look at me again without feeling guilty?

  You took the fall for my death, isn’t that enough?

  Will you only ever feel peace when you’re on this side of existence, right next to me?

  I was sane enough to know that it wasn’t really him that was doing the talking. First of all, I knew more than anyone that Pete wasn’t that fucking cruel. In his eyes, I was his protégé, the one kid who he was allowed to beat but never abuse. I was the man he could taunt but never fail to support. I was his little brother in too many ways for him to spend any kind of time going out of his way to make me feel like shit. He’d wanted the best for me from day one – from the first time he slid those threadbare gloves upon my small, curled up fists and promised me a lifetime of happiness, if only I could learn to take my anger out on the right equipment instead of the wrong people. I surrendered myself to him then and I was still doing it now. A part of me knew that it would always be that way between us, no matter what the future did or didn’t hold.

  I wanted to run from the room and pretend none of the crap that was running through my head was really there. But there was something else holding me in place, forcing my feet to stay exactly where they were… up until my eyes landed on the one picture of us that could change all that.

  Pete was fifteen. I was ten – maybe younger. Eight. Nine. I wasn’t sure. But I knew his age for a fact, which should have told me my own, yet all I could focus on were those fifteen-year-old eyes staring back at me, those god-awful denim dungarees and that mustard yellow vest that sat beneath them.

  “You gotta stop being what everyone else wants you to be, kid. You might have been made for a reason but that doesn’t mean you don’t have a reason of your own to live,” he’d said as he slid on those gloves and kept his eyes on me like I was nothing more than a coiled spring waiting to break the hell free.

  “Why you pulled me here, Pete?” I asked innocently, watching him as he raised his knee up high and planted my arm on the top of it. I couldn’t look away from him as he flipped it over and started to tie up the laces, pulling them much tighter than actually felt comfortable against my skin.

  “To teach you how to hold your own. To teach you how to focus all that stuff you got going on in your belly into the right place.”

  “You know about the stuff?”

  “Sure I do.”

  “You want me to fight?”

  “Not unless you know it’s right.”

  I stood still for a second, lifting my eyes up to him before looking around at all the big men dressed in leather that were walking around the place like they owned it. “Do I have any choice around here?”

  Pete laughed roughly, pulling harder on the laces of one hand, before he switched arms and concentrated on the other. “Not really. Fighting is a way of life. Although, you got a choice as to how much you want to be able to fight. You can defend, or you can attack. Two different worlds, two sets of rules. One makes you a leader; the other makes you a follower or a protector. I guess that depends on you and what you want to be,” he said, not looking up at me at all as he spoke.

  I loved Pete more than I loved anyone else that I could think of. I didn’t know what it was that made me think of him as anything more than he was, but I guess a big part of that was because he spoke to me like a grown up when everyone else looked at me like I was a golden egg that couldn’t be touched or cracked for at least another twenty years. All I ever wanted to do was make him proud. As someone who could look after himself more than anyone else, even though he was young, I knew my answer before I even spoke it.

  “I want to be a leader,” I answered softly.

  His fingers worked over the strings without much effort. He knew how to do those crisscross patterns and pull that glove tighter than anyone else. It was like he was made to always do that job. It was quick and it was easy to him, just like the smile he flashed at me as he looked up.

  “Yeah? I’d like you to be a leader, too.”

  “You would?” I asked, staring back up at him with wide eyes as he finished and I tapped both ends of my gloves together like I’d watched him do a thousand times before.

  “I would. I think you’ve got it in you. Just don’t let anyone ever tell you what’s right and wrong, Drew. If you’re gonna be a leader, you’re always going to have to stay true to yourself and go with your gut. No matter who stands in your way. No matter who makes you question everything you think you stand for. No matter who tries to knock you on your ass. A true leader looks their enemy in the eyes and he says, ‘I’m never gonna back down, no matter what you throw at me and no matter how beaten to the ground I am. If you want to win this fight, you’re gonna have to kill me.’ Do you get that? There’s no in between. No middle ground. No negotiations. This is do or die. A leader - a true leader - they’ll do whatever it takes to have things go their way.”

  Pete’s eyes looked up into mine like they never had done before, and even though I was young, too, I knew what he was saying. He was giving me my first warning. He was showing me how dangerous my decision could be, and above all else, he was giving me my first look into club life. I tapped my gloves together a few more times before I started bouncing on the balls of my feet and gave him my biggest, most confident grin ever. Giving the air a few punches just to show him how strong I really was, I started to jab left, then right, then left again before upper cutting no one and landing on both my feet with a flourish.

  “I get it, Pete. I’m ready. Do or die time.”

  The memory of that time together was so strong, I felt like he was standing in the room next to me at that very moment. There wasn’t much that could make my feet move, and there wasn’t much that could tear my eyes away from the picture that was burning so many thoughts and so many emotions right into the very depths of my dark, pitiful soul. My face creased to
gether as my teeth sunk into my bottom lip and I shoved my hands into the pockets of my sweats. Every breath I took inwards seemed to have razor blades attached to it, with a small firework of regret going off in my lungs once it found its home.

  I’d killed him without intention.

  My greed had got the better of me and I’d been too lost in the need to be a leader to see anything other than money and power.

  I thought I’d paid the price for that.

  I thought I’d suffered enough.

  But as I looked into Pete’s eyes, not daring to even blink, I knew now more than ever that the last few years had been as much of a lie to me as they had been to the system. It was only when I heard the voice of someone shouting from the bar, for the third or maybe fourth time, that I managed to finally force myself to blink away the layer of moisture that had coated my eyes, and roll my head towards the door. It took a while for the sounds to register fully in my mind. It took a whole while longer for me to understand that morning had turned to noon and noon had turned to dark while I’d done nothing but stare at that fucking wall like it held all the tits in the world for me to drool over.

  “Your girl is here. Drew? Drew! Can you fucking hear me?” Kenny’s voice was traveling closer as he continued to call out to me. Even though my head was slowly catching up, my body was having a little trouble coming out of hibernation. “Dude. Bro. You at?”

  The door to my room finally pushed open before Kenny’s head poked through and he looked up at me expectantly.

  Lifting my chin from my bare chest, I closed my eyes slowly, only to open them at an even more morbid pace before I just stared at him. I had nothing to say. My face was flat and my hands were frozen in the pockets of my pants. I was immobile, or at least I was until he spoke again.

  “Blondie. She’s here.”