Going Rogue

by Chantal Fernando

  He looks me right in the eyes and lets me see everything in his clearly. He’s serious. Though he knows there’s something here, he doesn’t know what we’re meant to be either.

  I like him and he likes me, but are we willing to take a leap of faith with each other? He has a lot on his plate right now, and as for me? I don’t know. I said I’d try and live in the moment and not worry about the future, yet it’s not always as simple as that. I keep thinking about what happened with Fox and wondering if this will have a similar outcome. Am I being stupid for even considering getting involved with him after what has happened to me in the past? I could put my heart on the line and he could suddenly realize he doesn’t want me, or that he only wants to be friends, or something like that. I still don’t know what he does in this biker club and what he does to earn money. But I do think that he’s sweet and handsome, and that he loves his mom, and that he helps with David, and those things let me know that he is a good man.

  “Yeah, maybe, but the bullshit facade, as you call it, gave me a little time to figure stuff out. Time that I needed. I haven’t dated in a long time,” I explain, watching as he picks up the menu and scans it.

  “And why haven’t you?” he asks me, sounding curious.

  “I used to date a lot,” I say, shrugging. “It would usually end badly. And then my grandfather got sick, so I put all my time into being with him and looking after him, and I guess afterward I kind of didn’t bother anymore. Dating wasn’t really a priority, and then I got stuck in that rut.”

  “And you tried to tell me you weren’t a nice girl,” he says, shaking his head. “Do you know how many people would put their life on hold to look after their sick grandparent? Let me tell you, not many at all.”

  I duck my head, because although I don’t want to admit it, I know he’s right. Not many people would. And I’m not judging those people. I just didn’t trust anyone else to look after him, if I’m being honest. He needed me, and just like he was always there for me growing up, I was the one who was there for him until the end.

  “I never said I wasn’t a nice girl, just wondered how you came to that conclusion when you didn’t know me,” I add with a cheeky grin. “I’m not perfect.”

  “No one is,” he says, pushing the menu toward me. “Hope you’re hungry, the food here is amazing.”

  I reach down and pick up the menu. “I know, and don’t worry, I’m always hungry.”

  A waitress brings out some breadsticks and I pick one up and take a bite. “I’m glad today turned out to be more than just a ride.”

  “Just a ride? Don’t act like you weren’t loving it on there.” He chuckles, studying me.

  We place our order and enjoy the atmosphere of the place.

  “Thank you for bringing me here,” I say to him, smiling up at the sun. “It’s beautiful.”

  “You’re very welcome. Do you need to be back at any certain time?”

  “By late afternoon is fine,” I say, lowering my head. “I have my ballet class at seven.”

  “How long have you been doing that?” he asks me, and for a second I’m lost in his eyes and forget how to speak until he reaches over and takes my hand, breaking me out of it.

  “Since I was a kid,” I reply, moving closer to him, our thighs touching. “My mom wanted me to be a professional ballet dancer, but I always saw it as a hobby, not a career. I do love it, but I’m happy doing it without the stress and pressure.”

  “I bet you’re amazing at it,” he says, sighing contentedly. “You know how you said you haven’t been on a date in ages? Well, neither have I, to be honest. I can’t even remember the last time I took a woman out.”

  He might not be going on dates, but I know that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been sleeping with anyone, which is the case for me. I don’t bring that up, because I can’t be jealous over that. He wasn’t mine, and he’s still not exactly mine, and even though the thought of him with another woman fills me with unease, it’s not my place to say anything.

  “I guess this is a long time coming for both of us, then,” I settle on. “We should enjoy the moment.”

  “I know I am,” he murmurs, bringing me closer to him and kissing me, catching me off guard. My fingers grip his neck as his lips remind me just what I’ve been missing; heat pools in my lower stomach. His tongue gently touches mine, then he pulls back only to suck on my lower lip. He places a soft kiss on my top and lower lip before pulling away and looking into my eyes, and I don’t miss the smile in his eyes.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that since you yelled at me from your car,” he admits, sending me into a fit of laughter. He joins me.

  So this is what it’s like.

  Butterflies in my stomach, unable to stop thinking about him, smiling whenever I get a message from him.

  I’m in trouble.

  The ride home is amazing, and when we arrive back at my apartment, I almost don’t want to get off his bike. Death trap it may be, but the way it makes you feel so alive, I can see why people don’t care about any damn statistics. I want to invite him inside, but I know what’s going to happen, and I want that so badly, but I also want to drag out this old-school courting thing we seem to have going on right now. I didn’t know that old-school dating even existed anymore—it seems to be sex first and ask any questions later, and it’s not like I haven’t been there. But this is kind of refreshing. It’s almost like Rogue is changing my opinion on relationships, my whole outlook on happy-ever-after. I never thought I’d find someone I was meant to be with. I thought I’d be a spinster, and I know my sister thought I’d never settle down either, because I didn’t seem to have an interest in it. My feet were always firmly on the ground—I was being a realist—but now it seems my head is back in the clouds, all because I met a man who made me feel again.

  There are men like this out there, sexy-ass men who can teach me new things and bring excitement to my life. Men who know my value and who read between the lines to figure out that, yeah, I am a good woman, and I deserve to be treated as such.

  He kisses me again at my door, and I’m about to scratch the plan to wait and drag him inside and have my way with him when his phone rings, and he says into it that he’ll be there in five minutes.

  “I gotta go,” he groans, pushing me back against my door and kissing me again. He presses his hard cock against me, and I mutter a curse word as I feel the size of it.

  “Are you sure?” I ask him, kissing down his neck. “How are you going to ride like that? People are going to think you’re concealing a weapon.”

  “I am.” He snickers, pulling away from me and taking a deep breath. He adjusts himself and glares down at his cock. “There’s an emergency and I have to run.”

  Another kiss.

  “You better go, then,” I tell him against his lips. “Maybe you could come back here later? After my class and after you handle whatever situation you have going on.”

  One I’m curious about and will ask him about later.

  “Are you sure?” he asks me, searching my eyes. “I’d fuckin’ love that, Zoe. I’ll message you and let you know what time I’m coming by.”

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  More kisses and a demand for me to lock my door, and then he’s gone.

  I jump in the shower and get ready for dance.

  If my wet panties are any indication of how much I want him, I have it bad.

  And I can’t wait for him to come tonight.

  Pun intended.

  8

  I wake up and realize that it’s eleven p.m. and Rogue never contacted me before I fell asleep. I must have faded waiting for him, dressed in my sexiest black lace bra, panties, stockings, and garters. Feeling kind of stupid and angry but also a little worried, I decide to give him a call to ask what happened.

  “Hello?” a man barks down the line. A man who is not Rogue.

  “Hi,” I say, wondering why someone else is picking up Rogue’s phone. “Is Rogue there?”

  “Who
is this?” the man asks me, sounding confused. “The number is saved as Z. Just a letter. Who the fuck saves numbers like that?”

  I blink slowly. “It’s Zoe. I’m a friend of Rogue’s.”

  The man pauses, then says, “Zoe. Right. Rogue mentioned you. Look, now isn’t a good time and—”

  “Is he okay?” I ask.

  When he goes silent, I ask him again, more forcefully this time. Something is not right, and I need to know. “Is Rogue okay? Answer me, now.”

  He sighs down the line. “He’s not okay, but he will be, all right? I’ll tell him to call you as soon as he can talk.”

  “As soon as he can talk?” I scream down the line. “Tell me where he is. I’m coming.”

  I jump out of bed and start grabbing some clothes and throwing them on. “Which hospital is he at?”

  “None,” the man replies. “He’s at our clubhouse, where he lives.”

  “If something is wrong with him, shouldn’t he be at a fucking hospital?” I yell at the man, worry filling me. What happened to him?

  I hear the man speak to someone next to him. “She’s yelling at me! Yeah, well you talk to her then, Erin.”

  A female voice comes on the line. “Zoe, hey. My name is Erin, and I’m a friend of Rogue’s. If you really want to see him, I will come and pick you up.”

  I swallow hard. “Yes, I want to see him.”

  “Message me your address to his number,” she says, and then hangs up.

  I stare at my phone. I’ll be going to a motorcycle clubhouse with people I’ve never met, and Rogue won’t be able to save me from anything that happens, because for all I know, he’s half dead. What if someone else has his phone, like not his friends? Even though I dated someone in a motorcycle club before, I never became part of that world, which probably was for the best. But now I’m going to the Cursed Ravens clubhouse, except it’s not Rogue who is taking me there. What if he doesn’t want me there?

  This isn’t how I thought things would go. I thought I’d have time to prepare.

  But I need to check on him and see what the hell is going on right now.

  I’m sure it will be safe. And if it isn’t?

  Fuck.

  What a mess.

  I send her my address, and about twenty minutes later, she replies, saying that she’s here. As I’m walking down the stairs and out to the parking lot, I realize that this isn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done. It’s pitch black outside, I don’t know these people, and I have no reason to trust them.

  Do I trust Rogue?

  Yes.

  And through him, I’m trusting that this Erin chick and these other men won’t murder me.

  I send Vanessa a quick message, saying that I’m heading out to meet the bikers at their clubhouse, and if she doesn’t hear from me tomorrow, I’m dead. I can only imagine the calls I’m going to get from her in the morning, but I can’t just get in this car with Erin without letting someone know that I’m going. I’m already making an extremely shady decision to go, but not telling anyone would make it even more stupid. As I step out into the parking lot, the cool wind hits me right in my face, and I’m surprised to see that there’s no car in the parking lot.

  Just a bike.

  And on the bike, a really hot chick.

  She removes her helmet, flicking her hair out, and I suddenly feel like I’m watching some sort of music video. She has black hair, blue eyes, and a stunning figure, which is showcased in the black jeans and tight top she’s wearing under a leather jacket.

  “Zoe?” she calls out, hopping off her bike and walking over to me. She offers me her hand. “I’m Erin.”

  “Nice to meet you, Erin,” I say, shaking her hand. I look over at her bike. “Wasn’t expecting you to arrive on one of those.”

  She grins. “I like to surprise. Rogue mentioned taking you for a ride today, so I knew you’d be fine. You ready to go? I’ll explain everything when we get there.”

  I nod. “He’s okay, though, right?”

  She nods back. “He will be.”

  She sounds sure, so I start to worry a little less, curiosity killing me as to what happened to him.

  We return to her bike, and she hands me a pink helmet, then climbs on. I get on behind her. It feels so weird, riding with a woman; I feel awkward putting my arms around her waist, but I know I have to if I don’t want to go flying off.

  “Don’t be shy,” she calls out to me, amused.

  I grit my teeth and hold on to her tiny waist, and then she’s off, riding through the night.

  Their clubhouse is about a fifteen-minute ride, and Erin stops to put in a passcode before the gates open. I never thought about what a clubhouse would look like, or how they’d need high security, but being here now is like seeing a whole new world. The clubhouse is on acres of land; it’s a huge two-story house they must have converted. It’s beautiful, and I can see it perfectly because all the lights have been left on. After Erin parks her bike, we both hop off and she leads me toward what I assume is the entrance. I can hear music playing, as if a party is going on, and I start to wonder just how dire the situation is.

  “Welcome to the Cursed Ravens clubhouse,” she tells me, smiling. “I should probably tell you that if you tell anyone anything you see today, I will hunt you down and end you. Rogue trusts you, but that doesn’t mean the rest of us do.”

  “I think that was the nicest threat I’ve ever received,” I reply, pursing my lips. Her soft tone and pretty face don’t fool me; she’s obviously not a woman to be messed with. “I’m just here to check on Rogue and find out what the hell is going on. I won’t be telling anyone anything.”

  “Good,” she replies, opening the door, a blast of cool air hitting me. The music gets louder as I walk through the place. I start to feel really awkward as I come across three men sitting in the living room, all of them staring at me.

  “Is this Rogue’s lady?” the older man asks, whistling. “He always did have good taste. Is your mom single, by any chance?”

  “Dad,” Erin chides, hands going on her hips. “You can’t say that in front of her. At least wait until she leaves.”

  One of the men with her starts to laugh. “Nice to meet you, Zoe. I’m Ace.”

  “You too,” I murmur, offering him a timid smile.

  “This is Prez,” Ace introduces the man Erin called her dad. “And this is Knuckles.”

  I eye Knuckles, the man I think I spoke to on the phone. He’s kind of intimidating-looking, with his shaved head, beard, and silver in his ears. But then he flashes a grin at me and waves. “Hello, Zoe.”

  I wave. “Hi. Nice to meet you all. Going by everyone’s casual demeanor, I’m starting to think that Rogue isn’t dying, which is pretty much what I was imagining.”

  “He kind of is dying, actually,” Ace tells me, but the laughter in his eyes counteracts his claim. “Erin will show you.”

  “Come on,” Erin murmurs, nodding toward a long hallway.

  “And no, my mom isn’t single, sorry,” I call out to Prez as I walk away from them, leaving laughter in my wake.

  We stop in front of a door, and Erin opens it without knocking. “He’s in there.” She points at the lump on the bed, hidden under the covers. I step inside and awkwardly stand next to his bed, gently pulling the sheets down to reveal his naked form.

  “Rogue?” I say, poking him in the shoulder. I lean forward and put my hand on his forehead. When I get the smell of alcohol, I scowl. “He’s been drinking?”

  “Yeah.” Erin sighs, sitting down on the end of the bed. She starts to tickle his bare foot, peeking out from the sheets. “Everyone started drinking, and Rogue and Shack started playing beer bong and doing shots, and then he passed out.”

  I place the sheet back over him, like one would re-cover a dead body just viewed in the morgue. “He left me for some emergency. If this was the emergency, I’m going to fucking kill him.”

  Erin laughs, looking up at me. “Oh, sorry, that was my fault. I to
ld everyone there was an emergency, and they all came running. Really, I was just bored and wanted to have a drink with everyone.” She pauses and then adds, “Except I can’t actually drink, because I’m pregnant, even though no one knows that yet, so I just drank lemonade and pretended there was vodka in there.”

  I scrub my hand down my face. Information fucking overload. “You guys could have just told me on the phone that he was drunkenly passed out, you know? I thought he’d been in an accident or something! I was freaking out, worried sick. Way to play with my emotions.”

  I can’t believe this. I’m relieved he’s okay, but kind of angry at how this whole thing has played out.

  “We all wanted to meet you.” She shrugs, not looking one bit sorry about the whole fiasco. “Rogue has been talking about you nonstop, and we’re a curious bunch. Do you want to have a drink with us?” She stands and does a little happy dance. “I made cocktails, you should drink them.”

  “And then what? Pass out next to old boy here?” I mutter, pointing to the man who chose this over sleeping with me for the first time tonight. I was there waiting, looking all sexy, and he was fucking getting drunk. I’m fuming. “You know what? Maybe I do need a drink,” I grit out, standing up and leaving sleeping beauty to his alcohol-induced coma.

  Erin beams and leads me to the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a jug. She pours it into a fancy mason-jar glass and hands it to me. As soon as I’ve taken my first sip, the questions start pouring in.

  Do you like kids?

  Describe Rogue in three words.

  What do you know about bikers?

  Rogue says you’re a ballet dancer, can you show me how to do that thing with your toes?

  I answer all of them to the best of my ability, but only because I have a few questions for her afterward.

  “I like kids, yes,” I tell her. “Ummm. Handsome, thoughtful, and badass. I don’t know much about bikers, would you care to enlighten me? And I can try to show you how to stand on your toes.”