Filthy Love

by V. Theia

  “It’s good to have you back, VP.” He turned to see Tag following behind. Unlocking his door, he pushed it open. It felt like a million years since he was last inside.

  “Yeah, me too, man.” And because he was trying not to be such a surly bastard he added. “Things been good for you?”

  Tag half-grinned, rubbed his whiskers. “You know me, always good. I’m telling you, the groupies will be pleased as fuck to see ya. They’ve all been gathering moping and shit around this door.”

  Hawk snorted. Women didn’t like him, not like that. His dick, sure. But he hadn’t cared where he’d stuck it, so he could never put a face to the bodies he’d used. It made him a bit of a shit, but he didn’t care. He was what he was. “I’m sure. You can have at ‘em.”

  Tag chuckled. “I’ll leave them to you, brother. Got my eye on someone. Something real, you know?”

  “Prince Charming is ready to settle down with an old lady and give her your patch?”

  The smile appeared again. Gleaming white teeth and a shy head dip. “Ah you know, maybe. Just maybe. Gotta see first, but I got a good feeling ‘bout her. Hey, I’m grabbing some grub, you want?”

  “I will later. I need to get sorted here first.”

  They fist bumped and Tag ambled on towards the kitchen.

  Leaving Hawk to sprawl tiredly on his freshly made bed and think of his own woman.

  He could think that now and mean it.

  For however long she wanted him she’d be his woman.

  Jumping into work was how Hawk acclimatised being back with the men he trusted the most. After a short sleep, a shower and a sandwich he made in the kitchen, he avoided the squeals of the hangaround females by issuing a dark stay the fuck away scowl, giving then a chin lift he stayed in the shop most of the day fixing a shitty Honda.

  And that night when he took his seat at Rider’s right-hand side at the sacred church table, he felt a rightness settle into his bones. A belonging and calm he got nowhere else but at this old worn oak table with his boys bantering around it before order was called and business was discussed.

  Money, crime, illegal goings on and how to deal with the Russians while slipping under the radar of the cops as always.

  Hawk absorbed it silently.

  “And before I send you shitheads out into the public to disgrace my club’s good reputation,” Rider said making everyone chuckle and add their ten cents worth of the rep they all had and nothing about it was good. “We gotta welcome this happy fucker back officially. It’s good to have you back on my right at this table, bro.”

  “Here, here.” Several said banging the table.

  “Not only did he get rid of Hades,” Snake announced with Pride. Grunts of approval rippled around the long table, “he faced off with the Russians and saved sweet little Gia, and now look at him; fucking model of the year. It’s like we got a new person back. Or an alien.” At least some things didn’t change. Hawk stared at king joker who flashed him an unrepentant grin. He was not gonna live this shit down at all.

  “Yeah, yeah, let’s move the fuck on. The VP is back, so you ass-monkey’s watch out before I do to you what I did to Hades.” He warned as friendly as he got.

  Everyone guffawed and knocked heavy ringed knuckles on the table top. Even Rider was grinning at him, that asshole.

  “Aww man, you see this? I’m all a fucking flutter here. He missed the fuck out of us.” Snake said holding a hand to his heart.

  And then jokes came to a halt and they dispersed.

  Hawk hung back to catch up with Rider.

  It would have been the time to tell Rider Hawk was interested in Gia in a way that was more VP doing a favor for his prez and all to do with being obsessed with her.

  But he kept his stupid trap shut.

  His luck only took him so far, he couldn’t believe he had any at all, what with him being a piece of shit and he might be just as dumb but not so much he’d open his mouth and ruin it by telling Rider and having him bury Hawk in the mountains somewhere for the cats to piss on his unmarked grave before he’d gotten a taste of Gia.

  He didn’t like withholding something important from his best friend, the one man to know all his gory secrets and still have his back. The man to find him when he was a teen runaway and offer him food and give him a place to stay and then bring him to the club to prospect, to give him a family and a sense of true belonging.

  Wanting to fuck his sister was going against every brotherly oath he swore by when he took his VP patch onto his cut and knew he’d kill for Rider.

  More than likely Rider would blow Hawk’s knee caps off and take back his VP cut and kick him out of the club the minute he knew where Hawk’s heart was at.

  And the thing was, he knew he’d give it up.

  Instantly.

  For a chance. One inch of a chance to be Gia’s man, it’d be worth it to give up the one thing that had ever meant something to him.

  There was no doubt in Hawk’s mind about that.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “Give me a book boyfriend any day. Real men are a big fat disappointment.” – Winter Deseille.

  “You shouldn’t be worried considering we’re over and have been for months. I don't care, Chad. It’s still no. It’ll always be no, and you know why, so do us both a favor and lose this number.” The woman behind the U-shaped shiny counter said in an angry whisper into the phone. “You know what you did! Don’t play the forgetful card with me.” Her back turned to preserve privacy, Zara guessed, but it was more than evident she was shaking. The French manicured hand she lifted to her shoulder length icy-gray hair was visibly trembling.

  Zara frowned. Not because she’d been waiting several minutes to check out her pile of books this week, but she didn’t like the tone she was hearing in the librarian’s voice.

  It was unguarded fear.

  And Zara knew all too well how a voice could tremble with anxiety.

  Her own belly without warning began to claw-clutch in sympathy and for a crazy second, she wanted to call Rider to come and shield her from listening to this woman’s upset.

  Cradling her books tighter, the heavy weight of the hardbacks forgotten, she glanced over her shoulder out of the glass doors. Slider was out in his SUV waiting for her. One signal from her and he’d come instantly.

  But that was ridiculous, and this was none of her business.

  “I don’t care. Not anymore.” The woman whispered, her voice shaking. “You said it all before, or did you forget you called me a fat waste of your precious time? It’s bull-crap. It’s over. It was over a long time ago. I don’t want to hear whatever lies you have to say this time, save it for someone who cares.” With a press of a button the silvery-blond woman dismissed the call and inhaled intensely with her body sagging in the middle with relief, Zara identified, before shoving the cell phone under the counter. It was another thirty seconds before she turned to see Zara.

  Zara smiled.

  The woman with the gorgeous fuller figure in the thigh hugging pinstripe A-line skirt flushed. “Oh. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were waiting. My apologies, really.”

  “It’s no problem at all.” Zara told her gently seeing how the shaken woman tried to pull herself together in seconds. Like a veil had come down over her fear suddenly she was just a stunningly pretty woman again like nothing had occurred in the last two minutes. But it didn’t hide how her pupils were wild, or the dark circles under her eyes.

  The librarian looked to be in her early thirties, Zara estimated, with wispy silver-blond shoulder length hair that reminded Zara of a classic pinup model from the early 60’s with her hourglass figure and sense of style about her. Her lips were ruby red and full, and she wore a fitted knee length skirt and a tucked long sleeved white blouse. And maybe Zara spied the high gray pumps the librarian wore too. Shoe envy was a real thing.

  Armado Springs wasn’t large compared to other places. Faces were recognizable on the street, but big enough that people weren’
t up in your business, unless you were the girlfriend of a notorious biker-man that was. Everyone knew Rider Marinos and now Zara by association but as, yet her memory wasn’t placing the woman anywhere other than here at the library.

  Since Harper’s birth this and her date nights with Rider were the few outings Zara made each week to replenish her book fix. Rider always made sure to keep her amazon account fully stocked with credit but there was something so romantic and indulging about holding a heavy paper book in her hands that it was hard to let the habit go. There was nothing like getting lost in a romance novel.

  Was it polite to ask where she’d come from? Maybe not, she thought. The woman wasn’t new-new. But she wasn’t long to the city, that much she could gather. Her boys were terrible gossips and if they’d seen a gorgeous woman like this one around town one of them was sure to have mentioned it at the club since they were forever chasing one woman or another always.

  “I really am sorry. We’re not usually busy this time of night,” she explained taking the books Zara handed over to scan them. Zara got the feeling the woman was used to offering apologies for many things as her default setting.

  She knew the feeling all too well. Not now. But before. Offering an apology in hopes a thump didn’t follow. I’m sorry I dropped your food when you punched me, it’s all my fault. I’m sorry I didn’t read your mind and anticipate where you wanted me to be. I’m sorry for breathing. Every one of Zara’s spidey senses on alert hurt her belly.

  She recognized silent abuse more than most.

  “I didn’t mind waiting. I love the library. It’s peaceful and I don’t mind telling you, it’s my little slice of me time,” Zara smiled in hopes of putting the woman at ease. “My house is, let’s say, with a new baby, it’s never a dull moment. And that’s just with my guy when he can’t find his keys when he knows fine well he left them on the hall table the night before but of course being a man, his eyes don’t work as good as ours do.” She said with affection for her big bad biker-man.

  The woman chuckled too, color returned to her cheeks in turn some of the worry from her face faded. “How old is your baby?”

  “She’s coming up on four months. Born on New Year’s Eve.”

  “Oh, how sweet!” The books checked out and handed back to Zara who put them in her tote bag which read; ‘For Books and Wine Only. Never Veggies.’ on the side. A gag gift from Ruby this past Christmas.

  “Don’t even get me started,” warned Zara, she touched the braid over one shoulder before swinging it around back. “I’ll be here all-night swiping through pictures for you if you show even the slightest interest in my princess. I’m an unashamed show-off mom. Her dad is even worse.”

  The woman flashed a sudden grin. “I’d love to see baby pictures. My best friend from back home sends me pictures of her kids all the time. Though, I’m not sure it was necessary to show me the first potty training.”

  “Where’s back home?”

  Zara couldn’t be sure, since the woman began fussing with a pot of sticky notes to the side of her next to a cactus plant, but it appeared she blanched a little at the question, further sending Zara’s senses into a nosy tailspin.

  Who had hurt this woman? And better question, who was still scaring her?

  “Washington DC.”

  “That’s some distance.” Remarked Zara. “I’m from Boston originally but I have family all over the states. It gives me an excuse to travel. At least,” she smiled. “That’s the plan this summer. I have a cousin in New York who is getting married. I’m determined to get there and shop until I drop.”

  “I love New York,” a wistful smile. “The stores are to die for. But take out a million-dollar loan before you go.”

  Zara laughed and offered her hand. “I’m Zara.” The woman grasped it gently.

  “Good to meet you, I’m Winter.” Zara raised a brow and Winter chuckled with ease. “I know right? My sister is called Summer. Thanks, mom and dad.”

  “I think it’s a gorgeous name.”

  “Well,” blush. Shy head dip. “Thank you.”

  “I love the shelf there.” Zara pointed to a three-tier just behind her with a sign that said, “I don’t remember the title but it’s blue.” Every book on it was blue. Winter grinned and took the compliment gracefully.

  Lifting the tote onto her shoulder, Zara shifted on her ballet pumps. “I should get going to see what trouble man and daughter have gotten themselves in to in my absence. Thanks for the adult chat.” Zara said.

  With a million things on the very tip of her tongue she ached to say something. Reluctant to appear nosy held her back. It wasn’t her business, she reasoned with herself.

  But wouldn’t she want someone in that same position to intervene, if only to ask if they were okay? Are you okay can go a long way to let a person know they’re not alone even when they feel it.

  So many what if’s she’d gone through the three years of her captivity that if somehow someone had asked her how she was, she would have asked for help immediately. And with her ongoing therapy twice, sometimes three times a week, Zara was learning to have more courage in life, not just with her recovery. To speak up, to listen to her gut instincts and right now her gut was singing like a soprano that this woman might need help.

  “Any time, hope to see you again. Enjoy your books. I’ve read several of them and they were wonderful. There’s a hot tattooed hero in one of them.” Offered Winter with a girlish grin.

  Mmm. Just like her own tattooed biker-hero. “Thank you, I will.” Zara took a step towards the door.

  Then stopped.

  She just couldn’t neglect her instincts. Even if Winter told her to fuck off.

  Don’t get involved her old man would probably say, but she couldn’t help it.

  “Listen,” she started. Winter turned from her task, eyebrow raised in question. “I couldn’t help overhearing your call …”

  Winter’s face blanched.

  Fear was a definitive smell in the air.

  “It’s none of my business and I’m not asking for details. I just wanted to check that you’re okay. It looked like it scared you a lot …”

  “Oh. I’m fine. Really. Thank you.” There was hardness in her voice and Zara knew the woman wouldn’t say any more. She gave a short head inclined of acceptance.

  “Good. I’m glad.” Rummaging in her bag she pulled out her wallet and fished out a small rectangle card. It was the business card for the RS auto-shop/office. “But if you ever find that you’re not okay. Or need help. For anything.” Zara stressed the word, holding the stare of the wary librarian. She pushed the card across the counter with a finger. “You can always call this number or drop by.” She mentioned the road where the compound was situated. Everyone knew of the Renegade Souls MC, but if Winter was new to town then maybe she didn’t yet. “My man is Rider Marinos.” Zara watched the eyes widen. Ah, maybe Winter had heard of all her boys after all.

  She smiled. They had such bad-boy reputations. And huge egos to match.

  “Again, it’s none of my business, Winter. But if you ever need help. With anything.” She tapped the card and left it there. Turning, she walked back towards the SUV where Slider jumped out to open her door. Such a sweet boy.

  Zara’s mind was on Winter the rest of the drive home.

  Hoping that phone call she’d overheard was nothing sinister.

  The option for help was there if she ever needed it. it was up to her to take it.

  For now, she’d go home to her family which now included her favorite sister-in-law and she’d see the librarian next week.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Oh, look. It’s the invisible biker.” - Gia

  Gia managed to get through the next three days of a no-show Hawk with simmering anger propelling her through each hour. She unpacked most of the boxes for the bedrooms and kitchen and muttered about how she was going to punch him right in the junk the next time she saw him. After three texts and evasive replies of him bu
sy working she’d grown increasingly pissed off, so she’d turned to ignoring him instead.

  Five missed calls later she was feeling proud of herself for not pouncing on the phone.

  Being messed around was not a nice feeling.

  In fact, she felt fucking crappy.

  Like he’d followed through with what he’d said he would do for Rider in getting her here and all he’d said to her about sex was just a bare faced lie, pacifying her so she probably wouldn’t chew his ear off.

  Whatever. His loss. Which was a big, fat lie.

  She’d never be done with Hawk and she felt foolish about that truth. Here she was an intelligent woman, capable of anything she set her mind to and she was churned up over being snubbed by the man she loved.

  Men lied every single day. She just hadn’t expected it from Hawk.

  First thing first, she was a Marinos before she was a woman, and no one got anything over a Marinos woman. He was in for a world of pain when he showed his face.

  “Don’t bother with yucky boys, Harper,” she told her niece kneeling on the thick carpeted floor with the flaying, gorgeous cherub. “They’re all bad news and they’ll give you such a headache.” Harper squealed, pulling Gia’s hair. She laughed kissing the baby’s cheek, lifting her into her lap just in time to see Zara return from the inspection of her sprawling, rented bungalow.

  Lawless really had come up with the goods for her. She’d expected a poky little house, maybe a studio apartment, not a three bed, two bath gorgeous detached bungalow in a great part of town with enough space she wouldn’t be bothered by noisy neighbors. The kitchen was open plan, twice the size of the living area and Gia felt at home instantly. Even the yard led out from elegant French doors. The main bedroom was her favorite spot, with a nook in the large bay window for reading and plenty of floor space with a walk-in closet.

  “It’s amazing, I love the sunken bath tub and the yard is perfect for cookouts in the summer, plus it could easily have a pool if that’s what you wanted if you buy one day. I vote yay! We can have girl’s night out there with wine and music.” Zara said retaking her seat on the couch.