by Winter Scott
The talk of the town was the art show. All the rich folks of Saint Marks would crawl out of their mansions, dressed in funeral attire to gawk at dried paint. Taylor wouldn't miss it for the world. That would be my perfect chance to strike.
I parked my Harley across the street from the gallery. I watched for any signs of Taylor. It would be ideal if I could pull her aside outside of the gallery. But I couldn't spot her through all the old people dressed in suits, valeting their expensive convertibles.
I'd have to go into the belly of the beast for Taylor.
I tried to march right in but my leather jacket and jeans gave me away instantly. A skinny man dressed like a penguin asked for my invitation and I politely shoved him out of the way. Nothing was getting in the way of what was mine.
I'd never been to an art show before. Paintings hung on white walls and a crowd of people were talking and drinking—doing everything but actually looking at the art. The free wine was welcomed. I needed some liquid courage to face Taylor again. I poured the white alcohol down my gullet and warmed up.
I searched for Taylor but couldn't find her. Maybe she wasn't here?
A painting of the Grim Reaper caught my attention. I usually wasn't into art but this was my kind of thing. It was so dark and nightmarish. A little placard under the painting said: Taylor Kyle.
She was here.
“What are you doing here, Carter?”
I spun around to find Taylor dressed in a short black dress. It hugged every delicious curve of her body. She was so fucking sexy. My balls were like two fiery coals in my pants. It had been a week since our last time together. Way too long in my opinion. I could steal her away to the bathroom and hike up her dress to fuck her in the stall.
“I need to talk to you, Taylor.”
Her expression saddened. “Now is not the time. We're not together anymore. You can't just show up whenever you want.”
“I tried to respect your wishes but I can't leave things how we did back at your apartment.”
Taylor went to open her mouth but another deeper voice came from behind her. “Get away from my daughter, Carter King.”
Mr. Kyle walked in between Taylor and I. He was exactly how I remembered—old and gray but powerful. He was the only man I was ever scared of.
When Taylor made me meet him for the first time, I was absolutely terrified. We ate dinner at her father's place, maids and butlers serving our every need. I was completely out of place and Mr. Kyle knew it.
When Taylor went to the bathroom, he had no qualms about telling me how it was. “Mr. King, you're no good for my daughter. Taylor deserves the best and I won't let a scoundrel like you near her. If money will get you away then name your price.”
If it had been anyone else, I would've taken my gun and put it in their mouth until they begged for mercy. But I couldn't do that to her father.
“You don't know me, Mr. Kyle. No amount of money will make me stop seeing your daughter. And we'll continue seeing each other whether you approve or not.”
Taylor came back to the dinner table before the discussion could get even more heated. But now here he was, standing in front of me, getting between Taylor and I again.
“This is none of your business, Mr. Kyle. This is between Taylor and I.”
His voice raised louder. “This is my business. She's my daughter. You're going to leave right now before I call the cops.” Mr. Kyle pulled out his cellphone from his suit jacket. Most of the art gallery crowd had turned their attention to us.
Taylor put her hand on her father's shoulder. “Please, Daddy. Don't call the cops. He didn't come here to start trouble. Carter was just about to leave.” She looked at me with those blue eyes that I thought loved me so much. But instead they were filled with embarrassment.
The skinny man dressed like a penguin pointed the security guards in my direction. It was time to go now. I left without saying another word.
Taylor and I were done now. I knew the truth deep in my heart. But I didn't want to admit it. Whatever love she had for me was lost when I went to prison. I'd keep my distance from now on.
Chapter Five
Taylor
I had to say whatever I could to keep my father from calling the cops. I couldn't be the reason for Carter going back to prison. Getting him out of there as fast as possible was in his best interest. I agreed that we needed to talk further. There was still feelings between us that I couldn't conceal. But now was not the time.
I slept for two days straight after the art show. I didn't want to deal with life at the moment. Ivy kept calling me and I kept on ignoring her. I had sent Carter a text message that we should talk but he never responded. I really hurt him at the art show. I could see it in those damaged eyes. He'd never want to speak to me again.
My mind was mush. I didn't know what to think anymore. I knew deep in the pit of my stomach that I still loved Carter. I was never able to get over him while he was locked away. But I couldn't be with a criminal. Carter said he was innocent but there were too many things I didn't know about his MC. The Dark Souls were known around town for doing some unspeakable things. It wasn't so far-fetched that Carter tried to kill a member of a rival MC.
If he was such a bad guy then why couldn't I get him out of my mind?
I finally got out of bed and bypassed the bathroom. I didn't even care what I looked like anymore. I went straight to the kitchen to cook some breakfast. It was nine at night but my empty stomach craved eggs and bacon.
I cracked two eggs over the sizzling pan and laid strips of bacon down on another. The aroma twisted my stomach into knots. It wouldn't be much longer until I could finally eat some solid food.
A knock at the door stopped me in my tracks. Was I imagining it? I could barely hear anything over the crackle of the cooking food. I listened hard and heard another knock. My heart jumped at the thought of Carter being there.
I ignored the food and went to the front door. I looked in the mirror and almost vomited in my mouth. Enormous black bags hung underneath my eyes. My blonde hair was all in knots. Makeup also would've been a good choice. There was no time for it now.
I inhaled a deep breath and opened the door. Ivy stood there in a dark blue dress with heels. She held a brown paper bag in one hand a small black bedazzled clutch in the other. Her face turned to horror at the sight of me. “Oh dear, you look terrible.” She rushed past me before I could even say anything. She sniffed the air. “Is something burning?”
“Oh shit!” I ran to the kitchen and found my eggs and bacon burnt to a crisp. My stomach grumbled. Cereal would have to do for now.
Ivy set the brown paper bag down on the kitchen island. “I let you sulk about Carter for a couple days but no more.” She pulled out a variety of alcohol from the bag: rum, vodka, tequila, and whiskey.
“Damn, Ivy. Buy enough booze?”
She smiled and opened up the cupboard to grab some shot glasses. “Tonight called for an emergency.”
“You didn't have to do all this, Ivy. I'm fine, really.”
Ivy laughed as she poured the vodka into the shot glasses, spilling some onto the island. “Did you see how you look? You're definitely not fine.” She handed me a filled shot glass. “Now bottoms up.”
The vodka burned furiously on the way down. With no food in my stomach, I was going to feel it right away. And I wanted that.
“I'm sorry I've been dodging your texts and calls, Ivy. I was so tired after the art show. I just needed some sleep.”
“You don't need to hide anything from me, Taylor. I know you still have feelings for Carter.”
Ivy could always see right through me. I guess that's what happens when you're friends for so long. “I don't know what to do, Ivy. You're right, I still have feelings for him. But Carter is a criminal and still apart of that MC.”
“He's bad news, Taylor. I always knew he was no good. But you never listened to me.”
“I know. But I can't get him out of my head. I never could. Four years and I
couldn't forget him.”
Ivy didn't wait to pour another shot—whiskey this time. “Down the hatch.”
Whiskey was my worst enemy. There were many times in college where Ivy found me throwing up in the bathroom after just one shot. But tonight, whiskey and I were going to become the best of friends.
I could feel the buzz coming on already. “What should I do, Ivy?”
“Don't look at me. When did I become the well of relationship wisdom?”
I tried to keep a straight face but couldn't hold it in any longer. The entire time I knew Ivy, she had never been in a serious relationship. Mostly it was her fault. She just couldn't imagine sleeping with only one guy at a time. Ivy had to try all thirty-one flavors. But maybe all it would take was the right guy?
“I never thought that Carter would be back in my life.”
“Me neither. People don't usually get out of jail so quick from attempted murder.”
“I tried calling him so we could talk but he never responded.”
“Can you blame him after the scene at the art gallery?'
The image of Carter's hurt face haunted my dreams. What else was I supposed to do? Let my father and Carter fight it out in the back alley? I know I did the right thing but it still hurt.
“One more shot,” Ivy announced.
I waved my hand at her. “I don't know if I can handle anymore. I haven't eaten anything in days.”
“That's an easy solution.” Ivy went to the pantry and pulled out a granola bar. “Here ya go. Eat that on the way to the club.”
I took the granola bar from her. “Club? What club?”
“We're going out dancing tonight.”
“So that's why you're all dressed up.” I pointed to her dress.
“What? This little thing?” Ivy spun around so I could check out how good her ass looked. “I always wear this thing around.”
“I don't know if I'm really ready to go clubbing tonight.”
“You will be after one more shot.” Ivy winked and handed me a shot of tequila.
I reluctantly downed the alcohol. Dancing would at least keep my mind off Carter.
“Okay let's go to a club. But what shall I wear?”
Ivy got that glint in her eye when she knew that the night was going to be crazy.
“To your closet!”
We raced to my room and I almost tripped on a pile of dirty laundry. Ivy opened my closet and began flinging dresses at me. “Too boring.” My favorite brown dress hit me in the face. “Too long.” Ivy pulled out a rainbow-colored dress. “What's this?”
“I thought it looked fun.”
“You should burn it,” she said, throwing it across the room. “Now what do we have here?” Ivy brought out a blue dress that was way too short for me.
“Doesn't fit me anymore.”
“Nonsense. This is the dress.” Ivy put it against my body. “The boys are going to be drooling over you tonight.”
Carter
I ended up sleeping at the MC clubhouse two nights in a row. Didn't seem right to be home alone. My brothers helped me forget about Taylor by keeping me plenty liquored up. I was finally done with that woman. I'd spent too many years of my life wasting energy thinking about her. There was plenty of pussy out there eager to get my dick wet.
I had joined the Dark Souls MC when I was only sixteen. It was the only thing I ever wanted in life other than Taylor. I dropped out of school and became a prospect, cleaning up shit and piss every day. But it was all worth it to get that patch on my cut that said: Member.
The Dark Souls were my family and I'd always be there for them.
I stumbled downstairs to the clubhouse weight room. The sun had barely risen but Juice was awake and on the bench press already. Juice was named for his over-sized muscles that were no doubt fueled by steroids.
“Little early to be working out?” I asked.
Juice set the bar of weights down and sat up, his shaved head shining from the light. “You shouldn't even be up, Carter. The amount of shots you took last night should've sent you into a coma.”
“Couldn't sleep.” I walked around the bench press and spotted Juice. He groaned with every rep, his veins popping out of his forehead. “One more, Juice!”
Juice cursed as he pumped the bar up, his arms shaking uncontrollably. I took over the weight of the bar and set it down. I grabbed a white towel from a pile and threw it at him.
“Thanks,” he said, wiping the buckets of sweat from his forehead. “You get laid last night? There was some hot tail here.”
“Of course,” I lied. “Had two of 'em. Never been sucked off so good in my entire life.” I couldn't let him know what really happened with the one chick last night. I brought her up to my room and she was all ready for me, naked and begging me to fuck her hard. But I couldn't go through with it. I thought I was ready to move on from Taylor but something stopped me.
“Good for you, Carter. I had myself a real hot redhead. The biggest tits you could imagine.” Juice spread his hands apart to visualize the size. “You can bet your ass I buried my cock in that cleavage until I came all over her.”
I didn't want to talk about other girls right now. “I'm going to go for a walk and clear my head. We have anything going on today?”
Juice shook his head, wrapping the white towel around his neck. “Prez told me we got the day off.”
“I'll have my cell on me. Call me if something comes up.”
As I walked out, Juice returned to the bench press. I could hear his groans as I left the clubhouse. The man was a workout fiend.
Pike stopped me at the exit, pressing his glasses to his nose. “How the fuck are you even alive after last night, Carter?”
“Next time you want to kill me, try a gun instead of alcohol.” I punched Pike in the arm and he got me in a headlock for a moment before letting me go.
I walked down main street of Saint Marks. The air was cold and it was too early for any shops to be open. Except for Julie's donuts. The line was out the door—the only place in town that served reasonable coffee.
If I was so over Taylor, then why couldn't I get her out of my head? I thought about all those times she sat on the back of my bike as we rode around town. Her hands always held onto me so tight. Why couldn't we go back to that? Taylor must know that I was innocent. I'd never kill a man unless there was good reason to.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even realize that I was outside Taylor's apartment building. The four-story complex was one of the most expensive places to live in Saint Marks. Without Mr. Kyle's money, Taylor would never be able to afford something like this on her artist income.
I thought about going to her front door and knocking. What would I even say to her this early in the morning? I imagined her dressed in a tiny white shirt and only a pair of panties. I could kiss her and do away with all the words. They only got in the way. But in the end, I'd wake her up and make things a whole lot worse.
A black stretch limo pulled up and parked behind me. I turned around and the passenger door opened. Two large men—almost as big as Juice—stepped out of the limo wearing black suits and Ray-bans. I reached in the back of my waistband for my Browning 9mm.
“Mayor Trump would like to speak with you,” one of the giants said. What the fuck did the mayor want with me? The bodyguard opened the door for me and motioned me inside.
I took my hand off the grip of my pistol and entered the limo. I didn't have much of a choice. The mayor sat at the far end on cushy leather seats. He was more bald than the last time I saw him on television, campaigning for the position, telling Saint Marks that he was the man for the job. His blue suit could barely contain all his fat.
“Take a seat, Mr. King,” the mayor pointed at the seat next to him. “Would you like a drink?”
The thought of alcohol made my stomach turn. Why did Pike make me drink so much last night? I politely declined and took my seat next to the mayor.
“I bet you're wondering why I'm here.�
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“The thought had crossed my mind.”
The mayor leaned forward. The scent of his cologne smelled like wet dogs. “Well I want to cut through all the bullshit and get right to it. You weren't released from prison due to overcrowding. I was the one that got you out.”
My head flipped upside down. “Why would you do that?”
The mayor poured himself a glass of vodka and took some ice cubes out of a bucket and dropped them into the drink. “Sure you don't want one?” I shook my head. How could he be drinking this early? “I need someone of your talents,” he continued. “Someone that could do a job for me. And you're perfect for this, Carter King.”