“Hey baby,” he says in a rough voice.
“Hi.”
My eyes dart around at everything but him, and I don’t know why I’m fighting the pull he has over me, of course he remains silent until my hazel eyes meet his.
“I’m so, so fucking happy you’re here.”
“We were close by, so…” I trail off.
“I’ve called a few times-”
“I know,” I stop him.
“You can hate me baby, it’s okay, but I’m still your dad.”
I haven’t been to visit him at all since he got put in here, not even when he was in lock-up awaiting trial. The only day I went to court was the day he was sentenced. I despise that I love him and would do anything for him, while he permanently removed himself from my everyday life. The feelings brought on by anything to do with my dad over the last few years is another example of how I gave someone all of me, only to be thrown aside as if I was nothing to them. There’s part of what Brayden did to me that’s reminiscent to those fears and inadequacies of not being important enough to stick around for. Although, obviously what my dad did was worse, abandoning me when he knew I had no family but him.
“I don’t hate you Dad, I just have resentment. There’s a pain in me that-” I let out a long breath. “I just, I have a problem with the fact that you were my only parent, you were all I had and you took the fall for some club shit-”
“Don’t. The club is what has kept food in your belly and clothes on your back your entire life so don’t fucking knock it. Yes, I know I fucked up...but baby, as a man, I did what I had to do.”
“Stop. Did you even think about me? About leaving me? Not only behind but the responsibility you left on me, things I don’t want, did you? A man doesn’t abandon his child when he’s her only parent.”
“I knew the club would take care of you, that’s our family.”
“Fuck that. I need you,you Dad...and you’re here and I’m left with the bullshit.”
I close my eyes for a long second, opening them to see my dad’s eyes regarding me wearily, before looking over his shoulder at the guards posted by the door.
“I’m sorry baby, I think about you every day...I do. I’m sorry I put you where you don’t want to be, but you’re doing a hell of a job, better than I ever did. I’m proud of you, the woman you’ve become all without a mom and I know that has something to do with me, and the club, and Missy and Gwen. If it weren’t for the club you wouldn’t have them...I know it’s hard right now, but I think I have a good chance at a new deal I’m working on, I just need you to stick it out a little longer baby.”
All the fight leaves me, at hearing he’s proud. It’s a start, but nowhere near concluded. It will take time to heal the wounds that still feel too fresh to stitch closed forever. Part of me knows that even though he’ll be in here for the rest of his life, he’s somewhere. I can still talk to him and he’ll be here for me, not completely gone like my mom. I know I can easily compare what my mom did to what my dad’s done, but I can’t give a shit about someone I never knew, or someone who never wanted to know me. I can’t erase the years and bond I share with my dad, and besides, I’m a grown woman now, not a dependent four-year old. I don’t know when the hell I’ll ever be back here, so I decide to put my unresolved feelings aside for now, and visit with my dad.
“I’m almost done with the house,” I smile.
He gives me a wide grin and nods his head. “I bet it looks amazing, you can send me photos if you want, in a letter,” he suggests. “I’d love to see it.”
We talk a little bit about the shop, and Bagheera. I fill him in on all the things I’ve done to the house he grew up in, and about my dad’s other baby, his bike. Which I take out on occasion to keep her running.
“Four minutes,” the guard announces.
My dad pushes his glasses down his nose and tips his head, pinning me with his eyes and narrowing them slightly before saying.
“So, Jane is having her baby in a month or so right?”
This is code for club business, what he’s really asking is,
The Briscoe deal’s going down in a month.
“She delivered early, this week.”
“Ah,” Dad runs a hand over his chin, stroking his gray goatee repeatedly.
“What’s that, two for her now?”
That’s a 20k gain.
“No, number four...she keeps poppin’ em out.”
40k gain.
“Is her old man around?”
Are we all set to turn around and sell them.
“Yeah, he’s a good guy, wants to make number five and six as soon as possible.”
The next job, they’re offering 50-60k, in negotiations.
“Good. Fucking great,” he nods and gives me a small smile.
I smile back and clear my throat.
“Dad, call me. I’ll answer,” I say softly.
His eyes glitter slightly as they crinkle at the corners, a smile spreading over his lips.
“Thanks for coming baby, I love you.”
“I love you Dad-“
“Maven,” he stops me.
His eyes serious as he glances back at the guard, before cutting his eyes back to me and leaning forward. His voice dropping when he says, “Someone might come to talk to you, I don’t know how they’ll contact you, but-“ he stops, his eyes searching mine as he struggles for words, and I shake my head because I don’t understand.
“Come on inmate, time’s up,” the guard announces as the two walk over and place a hand on either of his shoulders.
“Dad?”
“I’ve got it, just don’t talk, I got this.”
The last part is said through the glass, muffled by the thick barrier, as the guards remove the phone from his hand. I mouth ‘I love you’ and he waves as his wrists are being cuffed at his waist. His words keep replaying in my head, and I have no idea what he’s trying to tell me. Or is it code? My brain still trying to download the information, even as Smokey and I exit the prison. Without a word, he takes my hand and gives a small squeeze as we walk to our bikes, but says nothing.
“Got a text from Rocket, says there’s another MC at the bar and we gotta be cautious, he’s gonna wait inside for us. Says if he heads out alone, there’s no way he’s not getting jumped.”
We fire up our bikes and I follow behind as Smokey leads the way to Beaver Falls, which is twenty minutes in the opposite direction and into the city of Cordelia. When other MC’s collide, there’s usually a lot of shit talking, maybe some rumbling. But unless you have beef, most are cool with tolerable distance. I know Rocket wouldn’t go to an MC bar, so this means that the local club is at a public bar and doesn’t like a lone biker there. Because this is a civilian bar, there isn’t much the MC can do to that biker, unless they want the local law enforcement to get involved. Which leaves the option for that club to wait until the biker leaves before starting shit. Even if it’s just three of us, we have a better chance of getting out of there unscathed than Rocket does alone.
It’s early evening when we pull up and the bar parking lot’s packed, including five bikes right beside the front door, not including Rocket’s. Smokey and I say nothing as we enter the dimly lit establishment. Immediately I find Rocket perched with his back to the door on a bar stool, the white Warrior of the Gods MC lettering and illustration sticking out to us on his leather back. I glance out of the corner of my eye to survey the patrons, most look like civilians and don’t seem put off by our presence. The group of bikers are in the left corner, near the pool tables and watching us. Smokey claps a hand over Rocket’s shoulder, expelling a puff of cigarette smoke from Rocket with the action. Both Smokey and I opt to stand on either side of him.
“You just always have to get into trouble brother,” Smokey smiles.
“Hey, isn’t that what being an outlaw is about?” Rocket replies dryly.
All three of us face the bar, casually resting our elbows on the polished wood. I hear the sound of h
eavy boots over ‘Back in Black’- by AC/DC coming from the jukebox, as the bikers approach. There’s a mirrored back splash behind the bar, where I get a better look at the burly men, your typical looking middle aged bikers.
“We don’t allow no women with leathers on in here,” one says directly behind me.
I stare at him in the mirror, I’m not short by any means, but this guy’s at least six inches taller than me. He’s studying the back of my cut, the metallic Scandinavian crest of a horse that’s our mascot, blazes in silver and white patchwork.
“Just getting our brother and leaving,” I reply, not looking at him.
I look over at Rocket who’s casually drinking beer from a mug, letting his cigarette burn in between his fingers.
“Let’s go,” I order under my breath in his direction.
Rocket smiles with a chuckle, Smokey turning to face Rocket, showing the rest of the bikers his profile.
“It’s time to get back brother.”
Rocket continues to act as if we have all the time in the world, ignoring the tension mounting with every sip of that fucking beer. The man behind me suddenly grabs my bicep and squeezes, causing my jaw to tighten in reflex to not show that it hurts like a son-of-a-bitch.
“I said we don’t allow bitches in here,” he growls in my ear.
If a civilian calls me a bitch, it doesn’t bother me. But bitch in our world has a whole other set of meanings. Bitches sit on the backs of bikes, bitches get fucked by whoever and whenever, bitches are nothing, bitches are trash, bitches are weak. I, am not weak. Smokey shakes his head and lets out a low whistle, Rocket closing his eyes as he laughs.
“Don’t touch me,” I hiss, still watching him in the mirror.
My voice lowered, but the biker hears me. He lets out a bark of a laugh, as his hand grows tighter around my upper arm.
“I said, bitch get the fuck out,” his voice raising and drawing the attention of anyone who isn’t already watching us.
Before he finishes his sentence, I pivot my body and with my other hand, reach across him and wrap my palm at the base of his neck, slamming his face down into the bar. Instantly blood gushes from his nose as he drops to his knees, effectively letting go of me. There are gasps and ‘oh my Gods’ from the patrons, and I look down to see the biker’s eyes blinking in a daze, as he tries to focus on something. I turn to face his crew standing there, their eyes wide as they look down at their brother.
“Do we have a problem?” I ask.
None of them say a word, but one shakes his head slightly in the negative. Rocket stands, throwing cash onto the bar before smiling as he steps over the biker as he walks out. I follow while Smokey trails behind, a grin about the size of the Mississippi River covering his face, as he snaps a picture of the injured biker on the floor with his cellphone. Rocket stands in the parking lot laughing at me, as I walk past with a scowl and punch him in the gut. Not a full force hit, but enough to let him know I’m not happy. His hands cover the area immediately, but he continues to laugh.
“I’m glad I could entertain you,” I growl.
“For real V, when you get all rough and shit, I store that away in my spank bank.”
I make a gagging sound and mount my bike.
“You’re fucking disgusting.”
“That shit was some of your best work, I can’t wait to show the guys,” Smokey laughs.
“Come on V, I figured you needed that after seeing your pops. How is that old bastard anyway?” Rocket asks.
“Good, he said you’d fit right in, there’s always someone needing their cock sucked.”
Smokey let out the biggest belly laugh and swats Rocket’s bicep.
“You love me,” Rocket grins and I shake my head as a smile spreads over my lips.
It’s dark out when we drive into the club lot, the garage doors are still open and not that anyone’s still working, but the lights are on. There are clusters of men standing around both the shop area and the clubhouse entrances. Parking my bike near the shop, I enter through the front door and head to my office. Peeing and brushing my long hair free from its braid, then washing the thin film of dirt off my face from riding in the desert. Stopping at my mini fridge for a bottle of water, I go back to my bike to grab the blueprints, and head to the clubhouse. I nod ‘hello’s’ as I hear my name being called from different directions. I roll my eyes as I enter the clubhouse to see Smokey holding out his phone, showing off the picture from the bar as he animatedly retells the story. Well, his version of the story.
“V.” I hear Joey from behind me, stopping me as I whirl around with raised eyebrows to see the mountain of a man jogging up to me.
“Hey, are you busy tomorrow?”
“No, I’m not doing anything, what’s up?”
“Would you be able to watch the girls? I know it’s last minute but you know they were all sick last week and Katie’s about to rip her hair out. Just a few hours, I want to take her out, we can even do it during the day,” he offers.
“Just drop them off tomorrow whenever, they can stay overnight and you can take them after Sunday dinner.”
Joey’s eyes widen, before a huge grin spreads over his face.
“You know I love you right? Katie is gonna flip.”
He smiles and wraps me into a hug, lifting my feet off the ground. Joey’s the sweetest guy ever and I love both him and Katie. So it makes me happy to help them out, and it’s easy watching the girls so I don’t mind keeping them overnight. When he sets me down, I see Dornan now being told the story and shown the picture by Smokey. He’s looking at me and I know exactly what that look means and why I’m receiving it, the annoyance he has with me is practically radiating off him.
“Let me go call her, see you in a minute.”
As Joey passes me I watch Dornan disappear into the kitchen, feeling my chest hurt a little and know I have to remedy this. Even though I deserve the attitude for not returning his text, it still bothers me when he’s unhappy with me. We always worry about each other, especially when we don’t go on a run with the other, so not communicating is a dick move. When I push through the double swinging doors, the room’s bathed in darkness aside from the under cabinet lights. He’s standing by the sink, hands pressed on the counter, head bowed, the muscles in his back tensing under his white shirt. He’s so muscular that I can see them bulging, even in the dim light.
Setting down the rolled up building blueprints and my water on the island, I walk up behind him. Hesitating for a moment before wrapping my arms around his waist, resting my cheek between his shoulder blades. His skin jumps slightly at my touch, then softens underneath me. He smells so good and I rub my cheek over his shirt, hoping it will transfer onto my skin. He lets out a long sigh before placing an arm over mine, his palm over my hand, his fingers slipping in between mine. The action causes my heart to flutter, and heat my flesh.
“I went to see my dad,” I speak in a whisper, lifting my head.
His fingers tighten as his arm presses harder, lifting his head and turning it to show me I have his attention.
“We were close by and I knew I’d beat myself up if I didn’t. He looked good, seemed good. We talked a little about, ya know everything...it’s a start I guess.”
“How do you feel?”
“I feel a little better, yeah.”
He turns in my arms, and wraps his arms over my shoulders. Pulling me closer as he plants a kiss on the top of my head, resting my head once more against his strong body. I close my eyes and hug him just as fiercely, letting his strong form cocoon me.
Our bodies press together, lining up and fitting. Dornan always makes me feel feminine and small when he touches me like this, intimately, well, intimate to me. Even though I definitely look like a woman, sometimes the things I do, i.e. the bar incident earlier, make me feel masculine and too strong. I’m tall for a girl, almost 5’9”. I’m slender and toned, but still curvy. With large breasts and an ass that I assume I inherited from my mom.
Do
rnan runs a hand over my hair and continues to pet me, both of us silent. It takes me a minute to feel the press of something against my stomach, another second to register it’s his erection. The urge to reach down and cup him is overwhelming, to feel him like this, and I’m instantly feeling it between my legs. Before I can think about it, my body instinctively presses closer. My pelvis rubbing against him, causing him to inhale a quick breath. The feel of him mixed with the smell of him, his strong hands caressing me, is a heady combination. My breathing picks up, my breasts push against his rib cage, his heart thundering beneath my ear. His hand stops at the small of my back and tightens, as he tugs my hips even closer, making sure I feel his hardness. Slowly, I lift my head and stare at his chest. As his hands slide up my back, tangling in my hair to cradle my head, my eyes meeting his. Normally they’re a shade of crystal clear blue, but now they appear almost black with the intensity, the pupils dilated as he watches me. My palms run up his stomach, bumping along the muscles that line his torso, to rest on his large pecs. My index finger absently finds the pendant he wears underneath his shirt, and knowing it’s there causes my heart to pick up its pace, the blood to pump loudly in my ears. Never once do our eyes leave the other’s, his hands tightening slightly in my hair as he looks down at my lips. Oh God I want him to kiss me, but I know by the look in his eyes and the way he’s holding back, that he wants me to make that move. Like I’ve given up fighting the pull, stopped resisting, my head leans towards him as he bows his to meet me. We pause as his breath lashes across my lips, so close, so fucking close. My eyes drift shut while my lips part, waiting with held breath for the contact.
Running with the Devil: Plantain Series Book One Page 4