by Eliza Marsh
“What the hell, Dean? I'm really not interested in joining you two.” Tyler looked up cautiously, wondering what the man would need him for at this exact moment.
“I need you to go in there and fix Jackie.”
Tyler stared blankly at him for a few seconds, then replied, “I'm sorry, what?”
Dean rolled his eyes at the prospect's lack of understanding and tried to explain again. “She just started bawling her eyes out, and I have no fucking clue what to do. I need you to go fix it.”
The lanky man snickered and crossed his arms. “Maybe you're just not as good as you used to be. You are getting a bit old. Ow!” Dean smacked him across the back of the head and shoved him towards the door. “Alright, alright. I'm going.”
He carefully opened the door and was greeted with silence. “Jackie?” he asked softly, poking his head into the room and looking around. When he didn't see her, he turned back to Dean, who motioned for him to continue his journey inside. Tyler rolled his eyes and stepped in, then shut the door behind him. In the quiet of the room, he could now hear the water running in the bathroom and walked towards it. “Jack?” he asked again, louder this time. “I'm coming in.” He turned the knob and braced himself, then entered the room hesitantly. What he found surprised him.
Jackie turned to look at him from her position in front of the sink, smiling. Her eyes were slightly red from crying, but she was no doubt smiling.
“Gosh, I can't believe Dean went to get you.” She shook her head and turned back to the sink, shutting the water off and drying her hands on a towel.
“Are you okay?” Tyler asked, incredibly confused. He was expecting to see Jackie in tears, cursing about how Dean had done something horribly wrong and she never wanted to see him again.
“I'm fine. I had a bit of a meltdown. I think I scared poor Dean to death.”
“Just a little. You sure you're okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I promise I'm fine. It's just this conversation I had this morning and... I'm fine. Really.”
Tyler nodded and backed out of the bathroom. “Well, I guess I'll go inform Dean of the prognosis.” Jackie smiled at him as he left the room and turned back to the mirror.
Outside, Dean looked at Tyler expectantly. “Well? What's wrong with her?”
“Good news. You didn't break her. Surprisingly, it's not your fault. She said it was about something earlier and that she's fine and she didn't mean to freak you out. Problem solved.” Tyler began to walk off, but Dean's voice stopped him.
“Wait, that's it? She bawls, you go in, and now she's fine?” He threw his hands in the air and groaned. “This is why I don’t do relationships.”
Tyler shrugged with a smile and headed back down the hall, leaving Dean to stand awkwardly outside of his own room.
He contemplated entering, then told himself that he didn't want to deal with a crying woman. But Tyler had said she was okay. “Oh, fuck it.” He barged through the door, half expecting Jackie to start yelling at him about not putting his dirty clothes in the hamper or something.
Jackie exited the bathroom to find a perplexed Dean staring at her. “Hi,” he said lamely, unsure of what to do.
She smiled at him warmly, a complete one hundred and eighty-degree turn from where she had been ten minutes ago. “Hi. I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to freak out on you. It's just been kind of a weird day and... yeah, well, I'm sorry. It wasn't anything you did.”
He looked at her carefully, wondering if this was just a clever ploy that was going to end with him getting his ass chewed out. But he felt his insides warm as a smile spread across her face, disarming his suspicions. “So, you're over whatever that shit was?”
She nodded and moved forward slowly as to not startle him. “I promise. No more scary outbursts.”
He watched her, then nodded with a sigh. “Fine, but the guys don't hear a word about this. In fact, we need to go make sure your idiot friend doesn't open his big mouth.” She laughed and wrapped an arm around his waist, following him out the door.
15
“What's that?”
“A car battery,” Dean replied slowly, hoping Jackie's question was out of boredom and not just a severe lack of car knowledge.
“Cars have batteries?”
He shook his head in disbelief, suspicions confirmed, then motioned her over to the old Toyota he was working on. “Time to go back to school.”
“But I already graduated,” she whined.
“Yeah, well, you obviously didn't pass basic mechanics.”
“I didn't take basic mechanics,” she muttered in response as he positioned her in front of the car's engine.
“Welcome to Auto 101.”
“Do I get an automatic A for sleeping with the teacher?” she asked, batting her lashes up at him.
“It might get you some extra credit,” he replied with a rough whisper in her ear, then ruined the moment by turning them back to their work. “This is a car battery.” He pointed to the black, plastic square he had carried out of the stock room moments before.
“Yeah, got that part.”
“It makes your car run. It also dies. Usually at the worst times.” He moved over to the old battery still firmly attached to the engine. “Thankfully, they made these easy to get out... most of the time. Some cars have them under the engine, and you have to go through the tire well to get to it. Real pain in the ass.”
She stared at him blankly, idly wondering if there was going to be a quiz later on. Should she be taking notes?
“Anyways...” Dean said loudly, trying to redirect her attention back to the task at hand. “To get it out, all we do is pull these plugs off-” he narrated as he demonstrated, “- then pop off the brackets, then just pull it out.” He lifted the battery with ease before chucking it into a nearby bin, where it landed with a resounding thud. “Hand me the new one.”
Jackie leaned down to pick it up off the ground, groaning at the unexpected weight as she struggled to lift it. “Holy shit...”
Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed it from her with one hand. “You're kind of pathetic,” he said, completely unimpressed.
“Thank God I'm cute,” she replied sarcastically as she leaned against the car heavily and grinned at him.
An hour later, Jackie was at the stage where she could finally tell a wrench from a screwdriver. She had helped Dean fix the car and managed to learn a few things while doing it, not to mention that they had had a bit of fun too. Dean made sure she would never be able to wear that particular outfit again, using every opportunity he got to cover her in grease and oil. As she was reaching for the rag Dean kept in his back pocket, there was a commotion on the street.
The loud roar of motorcycles echoed off the buildings, the sound getting closer by the second. She was curious to see who was riding since all of the Macon guys were either working in the garage or hanging out in the clubhouse. She didn't have to wait long to get her answer, as four shiny black bikes rolled into the lot. They parked right alongside the others already lined up, and their riders got off, quickly storing their helmets.
The guys that were in the parking lot all greeted them warmly with hugs and handshakes. Jackie saw a familiar crowned skull on the cuts of the new arrivals, along with words that identified them as Kings from Florida.
When he saw the bikes pulling in, Dean quickly left her, saying he'd be right back, and made his way to the group. He approached a middle-aged Hispanic man with messy black hair and a smattering of tattoos up his arms, grabbing him roughly and slapping him on the back in greeting. “Jagger, good to see you.”
“Hey there, Deano.” The man returned the hug with a smile, mischievous brown eyes lighting up at the sight of his good friend. “Been too long.”
A voice from Dean's right made him turn his head.
“Dean.” A young, blonde man stood looking at him with a grin. Finn had changed since the last time that Dean had seen him. His face was fuller, his hair much shaggier, and he walked with a new ai
r of confidence. The thing that caught Dean's attention, though, was the brand new patch on the younger man's cut – Vice President.
“Vice President, eh? You're moving up in the world, kid.” Dean said it lightly, the friendship they shared evident.
“Had to get the patch sometime, didn't he?” A stocky man with a graying beard stood leaning against his bike, a grin plastered on his face. He was an average height and build, with black hair slowly starting to gay. His smile was broad and his brown eyes were warm, making him look like the most normal of the bunch.
“Still putting up with these dumb fucks, eh Johnny?” Dean asked with a smirk as they shook hands cheerfully.
“Someone has to make sure they don't get arrested.”
The group completely ignored the fourth newcomer as they continued to chat. Dean turned to Finn, giving him a questioning look. “What brings you guys north?”
“Business. We need to talk to Luke.”
“Right.” He motioned his head towards the clubhouse, Finn and Jagger following him towards the building. Throwing a glance behind him, he took notice of the tall man standing quietly next to Johnny. “That your new prospect?”
Finn also looked behind him, then shook his head. “Nah, that's Max. Patched him in a few months ago.”
Jagger snorted and rolled his eyes. “He's a moron. It's an absolute miracle he survived past age twelve.”
They entered the clubhouse, the door banging shut behind them, cutting off the rest of their conversation.
Jackie watched the whole exchange from afar, taking note of how close all the guys looked. Now she understood what Tyler had been looking for, why he liked it here so much. He craved to be a part of some close-knit group, a family. There was nothing like that for him back in Chicago. Even though Jackie thought the two of them were more than fine on their own, it hadn't been enough for Tyler. There was no doubt that he loved her dearly, just as she did him, but he needed to belong, and that hadn't happened back home. He didn't fit there, not like he did here.
She was secretly thankful that Tyler had found what he was looking for in Macon. She did too, in more ways than one.
Smiling, Jackie wiped her hands on the moderately clean rag she'd stolen from Dean. She then grabbed a bottle of water from the small refrigerator and made her way to one of the picnic tables near the garage.
Jackie took a seat at the table and took a long sip of her water. She leaned her head back and enjoyed the warm May sun as it hit her face. It was a nice change from the rainy weather they'd recently been experiencing.
Things had been a little strange the last few weeks, ever since her opposing conversations with Dean and Luke. She didn’t know how to feel about being around the clubhouse. Her presence was obviously not welcomed by everyone. But Dean had started encouraging her to hang out with him and the guys, wanting to include her more in his everyday life. She was conflicted, to say the least, not wanting to cause a rift within the charter but also wanting to explore this new direction with Dean.
Lost in her thoughts, Jackie was startled to hear someone calling for her from across the lot.
“C'mere, cupcake!” TJ shouted, waving to gesture her over to where he stood with one of the newcomers by the bikes. “This beauty is pretty good with bike art,” she heard him say as she approached the pair. They were admiring the design she had finished on TJ's motorcycle just last week.
“Do ya draw tatts too? I could always use a new one of those.” The gray-bearded man looked at her with a friendly, genuine smile, much like TJ always did. He was significantly older than her and a little taller, his general demeanor unlike many of the other bikers.
“Well, I've never tried, but I could probably figure it out,” she replied hesitantly, not sure if she had just dug herself into a hole.
“Johnny, Jackie. Jackie, Johnny,” TJ introduced absently. “You could make a fortune if you started charging people for this shit.” He paused briefly, then continued as something occurred to him. “But not me, of course. I should get free stuff ‘cause I'm your favorite.” He grinned broadly at Jackie, who raised her eyebrows in mild disbelief.
“My favorite? Let's see... you never offer to fix my truck, you call me weird pet-names-”
“They're cute!”
“-you always tease me about Dean-”
“Oh yeah! Did I mention this is Dean's new girlfriend?” He gestured in Jackie's direction with his thumb as he turned expectantly to the other man.
Jackie threw her hands up in the air, then smacked TJ's shoulder for good measure. “This is why Taco is my favorite,” she muttered under her breath.
“Dean went and got himself a real girl? Ya gotta be kiddin' me!” Johnny looked her up and down, as though this new information entirely changed how he saw her. “You're a cute little thing, aren't ya? Not really Dean's type, though.”
“He has a type?” Jackie asked curiously, turning to TJ for an answer.
“Oh, no. No way. You are not getting me in trouble. I tell you, you yell at him, he shoves my teeth down my throat. No, thank you.” TJ held his hands up innocently, backing away from the other two.
“Alright, fine. Don't have an aneurysm,” Jackie replied with a roll of her eyes. “I do have another question. The guy earlier that Dean was so excited to see. Black hair, beard.”
“That's Jagger,” the wholesome biker from Lakeside replied with a telling smirk.
“Jagger?” she asked skeptically, wondering where a nickname like that came from.
“Been going by that for years. Couldn't tell you how he got it. His real name is Sam.”
“Right,” she replied, her brows furrowed as she thought. “So what's their deal? They seem close.”
“They're both batshit crazy,” TJ said with a snort, as though that fact were obvious. “Both have taken way too many shots to the head. They don't see the world quite like the rest of us.”
Before Jackie could ask for clarification on his less than enlightening words, Taco stuck his head out of the clubhouse door and whistled for the two Kings to join them inside. They left her as Jackie pondered this new information, wondering exactly which piece she seemed to be missing of the puzzle that was Dean Rockwell.
16
A party to celebrate the arrival of the Florida charter was in full swing later that night, with the essential loud music, hot food, and cold beer. Bikers and club friends filled every available space in the clubhouse and spilled out into the lot due to the warm weather. Jackie tried to stay close to familiar faces, avoiding any newcomers that might prove to be troublesome. Dean had disappeared a few minutes ago, leaving her with a slightly tipsy Jagger.
Jackie had decided that she really liked the eccentric Lakeside biker. He was funny, if not a bit insane, and had an accepting way about him. She loved watching him interact with Dean, the deep friendship they shared very different from the rest. They were close on a level that she had yet to figure out, but she didn't question it because of the giant smile that had been on Dean’s face all night. She hadn’t seen him so outwardly happy the entire time she’d known him.
Dean followed Luke into the private meeting room and closed the door behind him, blocking out most of the noise of the raging party. He took his seat and pulled the ashtray in front of him, taking a drag from his cigarette. Luke sat at the head of the big oak table, his hands clasped on top of it. He said just one name, not elaborating further.
“Luther Donovan.”
Dean wiped his face with a hand, sighing. He was tired of this old fuck causing problems. Since that night in front of the diner, things had been running smoothly with their weapons dealer. But greedy bastards never stayed quiet for long.
“What's the stupid shithead done now?”
“He sold a large chunk of hardware to the Saints. They're bringing their drug traffic farther east. Getting ballsy now that they have a real crew again.”
“Goddammit!” Dean slammed his palm on the table in frustration. The last thing he wanted was to w
aste his time on that sleazy douchebag. But Luther supplying guns to the Dead Saints MC meant they were expanding, which would soon start interfering with the Kings' business endeavors in the area. “When am I taking him out?”
Luke studied him carefully before replying, “We leave at nine in the morning, so don't get too drunk tonight.”
Dean looked at him curiously, wondering why the boss had included himself in the outing. “We?”
“Yeah, we.”
“Who's we?” Dean was getting impatient. There was no 'we' when something of this nature needed to be done. There was just 'he.' He always worked alone on these types of jobs.
“Me, you...” Luke paused for a few seconds. “Jagger. We.”
“Jagger?” Since when did he need a babysitter, not to mention two, while on a job?
“Yes, Jagger.” Luke shrugged his shoulders like it was a common occurrence for Jagger to do an easy job like this with Dean. “He offered, said something along the lines of things being too quiet in Lakeside. He needs some action.”
“Fine then. I'll see you two at nine.” He stood quickly and left the room, the door slamming behind him.
Luke sat at the large table, staring after his enforcer. He drew a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, inhaling the smoke deeply. He wondered if Dean would be able to do it, be the killer that he was known to be. If something went wrong tomorrow and Dean wasn't ready to go through with the job, the girl would have to go.
There hadn’t been any trouble in Macon recently, but he could see a subtle change in his ruthless Vice President. The anger that always simmered just under the surface in him, the fuel that his violent nature needed to do the tough jobs, had lessened of late. There was a calm about him that had taken over, and the president didn’t like it. The girl was messing with his head. Luke would be damned if he would let the club suffer the consequences of Dean suddenly gaining a conscience.