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Going Rogue

Page 10

by Chantal Fernando


  I take a giant bite of fried rice and study him. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Just between the two of us?” I push.

  “Depends what it is,” he replies honestly, waiting for me to continue.

  “Has Rogue brought many women to the clubhouse to meet you guys?” I ask him, then backtrack a little, saying, “I mean, I guess I’m curious because he’s never mentioned any other girlfriends or women or anything.” I pause. “And I’m nosy as fuck.”

  His lip twitches at that one. “Why haven’t you asked him this?”

  “I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “I guess I don’t want him to think I’m petty or jealous or anything.”

  “I’ve yet to meet a woman who isn’t.” Knuckles laughs, shoulders shaking. “No woman likes her man’s exes, but they do seem to like it when they’re prettier, and that’s the petty side right there.”

  “You’re avoiding the question.”

  “It’s not my question to answer,” he fires back, just as the man in question walks through my door, taking in the scene before him.

  He glances at his watch. “You guys are eating Chinese at twelve-fifteen in the morning? Does that mean you’re feeling better, Zoe?”

  “I am, yes,” I tell him. Even though I’m not one hundred percent, I’m feeling well enough to function, unlike this morning.

  “We were just talking about you,” Knuckles says, his smile a little too wide. “Weren’t we, Zoe?”

  “No,” I lie, lifting my head to give Rogue a kiss as he approaches. “Knuckles is clearly drunk. And a traitor.”

  Rogue glances between us, pulls out a chair, and sits down. “What did you ask him?”

  I squirm on my seat. “We were just having a casual conversation about the past women in your life.”

  Rogue’s blue eyes widen knowingly. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

  “She doesn’t want to give you the upper hand by letting you know that she cares who you’ve been with and who you’ve been dating,” Knuckles adds, which actually hits the nail on the head. Not that I’d admit it, but yeah, it’s been my pride that has kept me from asking certain questions. I don’t know if Rogue is a serial dater or not, or how many women he’s been sleeping with. I know nothing outside of me and him, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but clearly my curious mind is wanting to know a few things.

  Instead of answering me, Rogue turns to Knuckles. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her.”

  “Prez’s business all sorted?” he asks, finishing up the food on his plate.

  Rogue nods. “All handled. We have to go run a few errands tomorrow, though.”

  Knuckles stands up, puts his plate in the sink, and announces, “Well, I’m going home to my woman and kids. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He slaps Rogue on the shoulder, then flashes a cheeky grin in my direction before disappearing, leaving me and Rogue alone to deal with the shit storm I just started.

  “If you want to know something about me, you should just come to me,” he says, taking my hand to soften his words. “My brothers are loyal to me, Zoe, so don’t put them in that position. Do you know what I mean?”

  “It was just an innocent conversation,” I reply, guilt hitting me. “I wasn’t asking about your deepest, darkest secrets. I was just wondering why you’ve never mentioned any of your ex-girlfriends or anything, and I was curious as to whether you brought many girls back to meet your biker family.”

  “All normal questions, which is why they should have been asked directly of me,” he chastises, lifting his brows at me. “If you can’t talk to me, then who can you talk to? I’m your man, and if you need anything or want to know anything, you come to me. Got it?”

  I nod. “Okay, yes. I got it.”

  “I haven’t had a girlfriend in a few years now,” he tells me, leaning back in my dining chair. “I’ve been doing the whole casual thing. I guess no one really caught my eye until I met you.”

  I smile and exhale. This story isn’t so bad to hear after all.

  “My ex-girlfriend and I broke up because she couldn’t handle the whole biker lifestyle. She was a girl I knew in high school, so she knew me before I joined the Cursed Ravens, and when I did join, she couldn’t handle it,” he continues as I hang on his every word. “Yes, I’ve slept with a lot of women in the last few years. Have I brought them to the clubhouse to meet everyone? No. But most of them were hang-arounds who came to the clubhouse to party, so the men would know who some of them were.”

  So he hasn’t really been dating anyone, just fucking the women who come to the club to party. The groupies.

  Nice.

  “You’ve gone quiet,” he points out.

  I know I should feel good about the fact that he hasn’t brought anyone back to the clubhouse to meet his friends other than me—on purpose, anyway—but I still don’t like the thought of him sleeping with all of these women.

  “So do they still come to the clubhouse?” I ask him. I keep my tone as even as possible, not wanting to give anything away. If he says yes, I don’t know how I’m going to react. I picture all of these beautiful women walking around there, and him already having slept with some or all of them.

  What if he gives in to temptation?

  I realize the fact that I have been cheated on before might be coming back to bite me in the ass, the insecurities I’ve been trying to hide coming into play. This is why I’ve avoided the whole subject until now, when I thought I could be sneaky and get away with asking Knuckles a few questions on the side, which, of course, bit me in the ass.

  “Sometimes,” he admits, watching me. “But honestly, ever since the kids were born, we haven’t been partying much like we used to. And even if there are women at the clubhouse, you have nothing to worry about. I’m not going to lose you over anything, Zoe, especially not meaningless sex.”

  “I should have asked you,” I tell him, admitting that I fucked up. “From now on, if I want to know anything, I will only ask you. I shouldn’t have tried to be sneaky.”

  He chuckles and nods to my plate. “No, you shouldn’t have. Why don’t you finish eating while I have a quick shower, and then we can go to bed?”

  “Sounds good,” I say, picking my fork back up and eating what I can while he disappears into my bathroom and I’m left alone with my thoughts once more.

  I wonder what business he had to take care of tonight. More guns? I have no idea how to play the girlfriend of a vice president of an MC. Am I supposed to just let him go about his business without any questions?

  Because I have questions.

  Lots of them.

  17

  “Where did you go tonight?” I casually ask him when we’re back in bed, after both of us have showered. You know, pillow talk.

  “Prez needed me to come with him to renegotiate the new deal, since the last one went to shit,” he explains, and I’m actually surprised that he’s so forthcoming with the information.

  “How did the police figure out what was going on last time?” I ask, lifting my arms above my head and yawning. “I mean, did someone give them a heads-up? Or was it just bad timing?”

  “We’ve been trying to figure that out, actually,” he murmurs, kissing the top of my head. “I personally feel like the men we’re doing the deal with might have someone undercover.”

  “Like one of them is an undercover cop?” I ask, my jaw dropping. “Holy shit. Why would you want to renegotiate the deal, then? Wouldn’t it be better to just walk away?”

  “It would,” he agrees, pulling me closer to him. “Except that we’re doing the deal with another MC, and if one of their men is a rat, we want to help weed him out.”

  “As long as you don’t get into trouble in the cross fire,” I say, frowning into the dark room. “I hope you have a foolproof plan to figure that one out, because if you end up in prison, I’m going to kill you.”

  “I won’t end up in prison,” he promises me, kissing my temple.
“I can’t. I need to be here for you and my mom, and if I end up in prison, I won’t be here to see her before she goes.”

  Before she goes.

  Like she’s going away on a holiday or something, but really we’re talking about death. Mrs. K probably won’t be alive much longer, especially with her heart condition, and we could lose her at any time. Rogue is clearly well aware of this and wants to spend as much time with her as he can, even if she doesn’t remember him. It’s such a sad, overwhelming situation, and I need to be there for him whenever this may happen. He’s going to need me and the MC to get through this.

  “You are the best son, you know that? If I ever have a kid, I hope he or she is as amazing as you are,” I say, resting my head on his chest.

  He kisses my head in response.

  As I fall asleep, I make a mental note to call my mom tomorrow. She’s alive and healthy, and I haven’t spoken to her in a while. Apparently, I’m not the best daughter.

  I need to change that, because you just never know when the last time you’ll talk to someone will be.

  I stay home the next day too, just because I don’t want to make anyone else sick. The morning after that, though, I’m back at work, feeling like my old self and so thankful to have gotten rid of the twenty-four-hour bug, or whatever the fuck it was that I caught.

  “I heard you were sick,” Mrs. K says to me the second I enter her room. “I had that other blond lady in here helping me. I don’t like her.”

  I smile, because she’s clearly having a good day and back to her fiery self. “I caught a bug, and I’m all better now, so you don’t have to worry about the blonde for today.”

  “Well, thank fuck for that,” she huffs, lifting her chin. “She tried to make me eat the potato.”

  “That horrid wench,” I tease, placing her breakfast tray in front of her. “No potato here, just an omelet, juice, and toast.”

  “You even bring the good food with you,” she teases as I help her bring the cup of juice to her mouth. “I can do it myself, young lady.”

  “Okay,” I say, leaving her with the cup and straw. “Is there anything else I can do for you while I’m here?”

  “Yeah, can you call Zeke and see why he hasn’t visited recently?” she asks me, frowning. “I feel like I haven’t seen him in ages, and when he gets here I’m going to yell at him about it.”

  “Zeke?” I ask, brow furrowing.

  “My son. Zeke,” she explains, and then it hits me.

  Rogue’s real name is Zeke.

  It’s depressing, because he has been visiting a lot, she must just not remember it, so she thinks he hasn’t been here. It’s sad on her behalf, and on his.

  “Is Zeke short for Ezekiel?” I ask, hungry for information. Guilt hits me, though, because I just got told off for this the other night. But it’s not like Rogue is super-open. He never told me his real name; then again, I guess I never asked. It’s like I’m waiting for him to supply the information without me asking, but he’s just waiting for me to ask him.

  “Yes, it is,” she replies, picking up a piece of toast and taking a bite. “I have three sons. Ezekiel, Zayden, and Drake.”

  “Very unique names,” I tell her, sitting down on the chair next to her bed.

  “I don’t like common names,” she explains to me, pursing her lips. “They are boring, and my sons are not boring.”

  “No, I bet they’re not. I know your son Zeke,” I tell her, smiling and looking down. “I mean, I know him as Rogue, not Zeke.”

  “That’s his road name,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “All the things my son could have done, and he became a biker. He’s a smart man, my Zeke. He would always get such good grades at school. But he always loved bikes and fast cars. He’s a good boy, though.” She eyes me as if suddenly realizing what I meant by my comment. “And how well do you know my son, exactly?”

  My cheeks start to heat. “Ummm, I mean, well, you see . . .”

  “Yes, I do see,” she murmurs, grinning. “This might come as a surprise Zoe, but I don’t like many people. And many people don’t like me, not that I care. However, I do like you. You always have a smile on your face, and unlike most of the other people who work here, you genuinely care about the people who live here. In fact, I remember telling Zeke about you and how wonderful you are to me.”

  “It’s true,” Rogue says, appearing at the door, flowers in his hand. “She did mention you to me. Sorry, Mom, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”

  He gives her the flowers, kisses her cheek, then turns to me. I stand up to give him the chair, considering he’s the visitor and I’m supposed to be working.

  “Hello, beautiful,” he says, giving me a quick kiss. “What else has my mom been telling you about me?”

  “Nothing much,” I reply, flashing a smile in Mrs. K’s direction. “You never told me that your mom mentioned me before.”

  He shrugs. “I forgot, I guess.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re here, because Mrs. K wanted me to call you and ask you to come and visit her,” I tell him, moving toward the door. “Press the button if you need me.”

  I leave the two of them alone and get back to work. I run into Marissa in the hallway, and she looks like she’s been crying, her makeup smudged all over her face.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask her, being the good human that I am.

  “He dumped me!” she wails, more tears dripping from her eyes. “I can’t believe it, Zoe. He’s the love of my life, you know how I feel about him.”

  It’s moments like these when I’m torn between telling the truth and saying what I know people want to hear. She wants me to tell her it will be fine, that maybe he’s just upset and will take her back, or something along those lines, but what I want to tell her is that he’s a fucking loser and she should be happy her ties with him are finally severed.

  I decide on middle ground. “You can do much better than him, Marissa. There are plenty of men out there who will treat you like a queen and who will want to be with you.”

  She nods and sniffles. “I know, I just thought that we’d get married this year, and he has so much money that I thought I was going to be able to quit this stupid fucking job and be a stay-at-home wife.”

  Stay-at-home wife? Is that a thing? Not stay-at-home mother but wife. So, no kids and no job. Wow. Any sympathy I have for the woman vanishes, and I’m annoyed that she’s wasting my time with this bullshit.

  “You’ll be fine. Why don’t you take a minute and then get back to work? It will keep you distracted,” I tell her, patting her on the shoulder and walking by her until I hear her mutter, “I’m going to go talk to Mrs. K’s son. I saw him walk in before, maybe he will make me forget Greg, or at least distract me for a little while. He’s so good-looking, imagine how jealous Greg would be if he saw me with him!”

  I grit my teeth together. I didn’t realize I was working with such a childish person, and while I know Rogue won’t give her the time of day, the thought of her trying to hit on him has me seeing red. I never would have described myself as a jealous woman—as a matter of fact, I’m usually really laid-back and don’t really care who is talking to whom or who has been with whom, but for some reason Rogue has me feeling all types of crazy.

  “You better get back to work,” I call out to her. “Lina is doing rounds.”

  Lina is our boss, who is not actually doing rounds and is instead locked away in her office.

  It seems that where Rogue is concerned, I can be petty as fuck.

  18

  After work I get changed and drive straight to the clubhouse. Knuckles is cooking everyone dinner and wants me to come and meet Celina. I’m glad he pulled through with that, but I’m still a little annoyed at him for ruining what was meant to be our deep and meaningful chat and telling Rogue that I was asking questions about him. When I’m at the gate, I call Rogue so he can let me in. I’m surprised they don’t have any dogs here, because that’s the only thing missing to scream Yo
u’re not welcome here to the public. Once the gate opens, I drive in and park my car. Then Rogue is there, all in black, opening my car door and offering me his hand.

  “Such a gentleman,” I coo, smiling up from beneath my lashes. “Sorry I’m late, the traffic was hectic. What have I missed?”

  “I thought as much,” he says, waiting while I lock my door and then walk hand in hand with him inside. “And nothing much, everyone is fussing over Walker and David and judging the shit out of the date Prez brought tonight. And when I say everyone, I really mean Erin.”

  “Erin’s dad brought a date to a family gathering?” I ask Rogue, eyes widening.

  “Yeah, and Erin’s acting like the bratty daughter.” Rogue smirks, leading me outside to the back. “Which is understandable if you know what has happened here. Whoever Prez ends up with is going to be putting up with a lot of shit from Erin before she learns to trust someone again. She thinks no one is good enough for her dad.”

  “That’s kind of cute,” I say just before we see everyone. They’re all sitting outside, watching the sunset, drinks or babies in hand.

  “Zoe is here!” Erin yells out, coming over to hug me. She then leads me to a black-haired, green-eyed beauty who has the cutest baby in her hands. “Zoe, this is my cousin Celina. And Celina, this is Rogue’s woman. I told you she’s pretty!”

  Celina shakes her head at her cousin, then offers me her hand. “Nice to finally meet you, Zoe. And this is Walker. My other son, David, is over there in Prez’s arms.”

  “Hello, Walker,” I coo, holding on to his chubby little fingers. “He is so cute.”

  I let go of the baby and glance around, saying hello to each person. Prez introduces me to his date, a pretty older redheaded woman by the name of Belle. I kind of feel bad for her, because she can’t really win if Erin doesn’t like her. Rogue also introduces me to the four prospects, men who are new to the club.

 

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