by Eliza Marsh
She did as she was told and then stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do.
“Why don’t you get started on the salad, huh? There’s a bowl in the top cupboard, to the left of the sink.”
Getting the salad bowl, Jackie went to the counter and set to work, watching Bianca pick up some bread and set off for the next room. No sooner had that happened when a woman on her right leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially.
“Intimidating, isn’t she?” She was smiling and had a glow about her, which Jackie attributed to the fact that she was heavily pregnant. Wasn’t that what people said about pregnant women? That they were glowing? “I’m Lana. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Jackie.” Shaking Lana’s hand, she smiled in her direction. “Believe me. The pleasure is all mine.”
Lana laughed, a carefree sound that gave away how happy she was. “Yeah, Linc told me about you. It must be tough moving like that and not knowing anyone.”
Jackie wracked her brain quickly, trying to put a face to the name she was hearing. Only vaguely remembering the large, bald man she had met briefly on her first day in town, she assumed he was Lana's significant other. “Eh, I’m used to it. Moved a lot the past few years.”
“Well, then. I hope you find your home in Lakeside. It’s rather nice once you settle in.” Looking around the room, Lana started rattling off the names of the other women. “That’s Violet, Jagger's current fling, and the one by the sink is Carol, Benz’s wife.” Whispering once more, Lana smiled with amusement. “His third wife.”
“Third?” Jackie mouthed the words carefully, making sure that Carol couldn’t see her.
The other woman laughed at the disbelief on her face. “The little girl over there is Addison, my daughter.” It was obvious how much Lana loved her child, how much she loved being a mother. Jackie hoped one day she’d be like her, happy and glowing, looking at her child with love, and even wanting another.
Just when Jackie was about to respond, Bianca came back in the kitchen and picked up the main course, ushering all of them to the dining room.
“Let’s not keep the guys waiting. You know boys and their food.” The queen rolled her eyes, taking her place to the right of her husband.
Sitting next to Tyler, Jackie glanced at him, noting the goofy smile on his face. Their escape attempt earlier seemed silly now. She had to admit, she had felt a bit awkward at the beginning, but those feelings were gone quickly, chased away by Lana’s acceptance and friendly attitude. The other woman had put her at ease, and Jackie was thankful. Tyler, too, looked happy and peaceful. He looked like he belonged at that table and, judging by his laughter, Jackie guessed that he felt it also.
Taking notice of her gaze, Tyler looked at her, his smile broadening even more if possible. His large hand engulfed her much smaller one on top of the table. He squeezed it and leaned into her, speaking quietly.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” Her smile was genuine, as was her happiness. “Everything’s perfect.”
The quick exchange didn’t go unnoticed by the queen. Bianca had been a bit reluctant to accept the girl, but she had her reasons to be suspicious. The club always came first, and with a new prospect, one that they didn’t yet know, everyone had to be careful. She had to make sure that the boy had his head on straight, his heart intact, and balls big enough for the other guys to count on him. A woman, especially one as pretty as Jackie, could ruin a man. She had seen it before, and she didn’t want any trouble within her club. The guys seemed to like the young woman, though. Bianca was sure she was going to fit right in. Smiling to herself, the queen reached for the bread. Her boys were going to be just fine.
“So, Jackie.” Looking up, Jackie turned her attention to Lana. “What is it that you do?”
The entire dinner went that way, full of friendly banter and light conversation. When she got to her apartment later that night, Jackie was exhausted, but content. She decided that she liked Lakeside. Yes, it was small and different, but she had made some friends that night. Things were starting to look up.
27
Jackie pulled into the parking lot of Vic's Auto Repair and Salvage Yard, painfully reminded of all the times she’d been to the Eastside Mechanics garage back in Macon. The two were very similar, from the garage to the clubhouse, not to mention all of the motorcycles that were parked there, but this one had rows and rows of old cars behind it.
Many of the charters had automotive garages to use for their own mechanical repair needs, and some also used it to make money. Other groups ran various enterprises as a source of income - bars, pawnshops, bail bonds. A few had no club business and simply made money from their illegal activities, but that was a risky move considering law enforcement always had a hard-on for them.
Jackie hadn’t spent that much time in Lakeside, but she really missed Macon. Not necessarily the city itself, but the people. She missed all of the bikers, Elaine and Beth. Their loss almost made her regret her decision to leave.
Almost.
Shaking her head, Jackie got out of her truck and headed toward the garage where the bikers were working.
“Hey, Jackie. What’s up?” Finn was wiping his hands on a rag, his lips twisted in a smile. Jagger and Vic were standing in front of a beat-up Ford Explorer and looked at her as she entered.
“Hey guys,” she greeted them with a smile of her own. “Is Benz here? I was supposed to pick him up…” Trailing off, she watched as the biker in question exited the garage's small office.
“Right here.” Benz, a portly, almost red-haired man of average height, walked over to join the group. “You ready?”
“Where are you kids off to?” Jagger asked, eying the pair suspiciously.
“I’m taking Jackie to a gallery in Jacksonville to see if we can find a place for her to sell her art.”
“I gave you the day off so you can go to an art gallery?” Vic asked, shaking his head.
“I think it’s a great idea.” Finn received a few dubious looks for his interference. “What? She’s good. She did the paint job for Dean's bike.”
“Well, you're just full of surprises, aren't you?” the charter president asked with a smirk.
“You’ll do something for my bike too, right, darlin'?” Jagger grinned down at her, his eyes gleaming.
“I'd be happy to.”
“Okay, then. It’s time for us to go!” Benz grabbed Jackie's shoulders and steered her towards the truck, Vic following behind them.
“Hey, Benz.” Vic motioned for Benz to hang back, taking a few steps away from Jackie.
“Yeah?”
“Be careful in Jacksonville, yeah? Those assholes aren't gonna be too happy with you in their territory,” he said, referring to the Dead Saints motorcycle club that ruled the area north of town. He paused for a second and glanced at where Jackie was laughing with the rest of the guys. “You never know when they'll make an appearance.”
“Right.” Benz nodded his head. “Yeah, I’ll be careful.” He caught Jackie’s hand, leading her towards the truck. “I’ll take those if you don’t mind.” He snatched the keys from her other hand and got in the driver's seat, starting the vehicle.
The drive to Jacksonville was fun, mainly because Benz kept making Jackie laugh. She found out he was great at telling stories and jokes, especially when they were about his fellow bikers’ antics. His favorite subject to talk about was the prospecting members and their more than questionable actions. He didn’t speak about his time in the army, but he was quite open about other aspects of his life. She learned he had a weakness for feisty Latina women, had a daughter from almost-wife-number-three that he didn’t see much of, and really missed the old chihuahua he lost custody of during his divorce to wife number two.
The thirty minutes they were on the road flew by, and in no time, they were arriving at the art gallery. Benz parked the truck across the street and smiled at her.
“Ready?”
“Yeah.” She nodded her head, grinning
back at him. “Ready.”
He went to get the paintings out of the truck, giving her enough time to examine the gallery. The place was small and a far cry from ‘fancy.’ That’s exactly what she needed, a local gallery that had a wide range of customers. She doubted her art would be to the taste of high-class people. Mirror Images Art Gallery suited her and her style quite well.
“You gonna stand there and gawk at it all day? Come on,” Benz called out to her. She had been so deep in thought that she had completely missed his movement. By the time she started walking towards the store, he was halfway there, and she had to jog to catch up with him.
The inside of the place looked exactly like she pictured it. The walls were white and covered in various artforms. The styles were different, from Renaissance to modern, drawings to pastels and everything in between. She admired a few oil paintings, and then her gaze slid past the various portraits and beautiful landscapes to a small corner dedicated to photography. She loved looking at photographs, and the selection displayed here was terrific. Unfortunately for her, she couldn’t do anything with a camera but snap pictures that, more often than not, came out blurry. Spinning in a circle, Jackie examined the few sculptures spread across the room. She hoped the owner would like her work enough to give her a couple of spaces.
“Johnathan!”
Jackie turned in the direction the female voice had come from and watched as a dark-skinned woman walked towards her and Benz. She hadn’t noticed that he was walking next to her during her trek through the gallery.
“Diane.” Benz stepped up when she reached them and kissed her hand, making her giggle. “This is Jackie, the one I told you about.”
“It’s so nice to meet you!” Jackie exclaimed as she shook Diane’s hand, her grip surprisingly firm. Jackie noted that she looked rather delicate and a bit younger than Benz, probably being in her early forties. She wore a nice suit, but nothing too fancy, and her hair was swept up in a bun to show off her feminine face. Her smile was warm and genuine, making Jackie instantly like the woman. She couldn’t help but wonder how Benz knew such a refined lady considering his line of work. She guessed she’d never know, as the introductions were already made, and he hadn’t elaborated.
“The pleasure is all mine.” Jackie smiled happily at the reply, getting excited and nervous at the same time. “Come on, then, let me look at your work.”
Jackie nudged Benz, and he started, too busy staring at Diane’s legs to pay attention to the conversation.
“The art, right.” He had propped her paintings on a nearby wall, so he quickly brought them over.
Bending to take the first one out of its case, Jackie presented it to the gallery owner, waiting for the verdict.
“That's nice.” Diane glanced at her quickly, then reverted her eyes back to the painting. “Not bad. Let’s see what else you’ve brought.”
Handing her another painting, Jackie relaxed, and a broad smile blossomed on her face. This was turning out perfect.
“Mmmhm. Your stuff will fit right in.” Putting the paintings on a small table, Diane turned to her again. “I can only give you a few spaces at the moment, as we’re pretty full. Why don’t you leave these three here and we’ll talk about more if they sell. What do you say?”
“That’s… that’s great!” Shaking the other woman’s hand once again, Jackie tried to express her gratitude. “Thank you so much!”
“Oh, don’t mention it, I owed Johnathan one anyways.” Beckoning for Jackie to follow her, she went behind a desk and produced a few papers and a pen. “Let’s just fill these forms out, and you'll be all set. We’ll call you when a sale goes through.”
Noting the use of the word ‘when’ instead of ‘if,’ Jackie smiled again. This was a great day, and most certainly one of the few she’d enjoyed since moving.
Walking out of the gallery a little while later, she felt like she was on cloud nine. Hugging Benz tightly, she laughed. He was quickly becoming her favorite Lakeside King.
“Thanks, Benz! You have no idea how much I appreciate what you did for me.”
“Eh, don’t mention it.” He winked at her, swinging an arm around her shoulders. "Now, how about we go get something to eat? I'm starving!"
28
It was a rowdy night in Macon, and the bikers were gathered in the basement of the clubhouse, where a boxing-ring had been set up many years ago to provide entertainment. The alcohol was flowing wildly, and a majority of the room's occupants would be feeling it heavily the next morning. Ian, Taco, and TJ were completely hammered well before midnight, while Mack and Nash were being a bit more cautious with their alcohol intake.
“Dean venture down here any?” Mack asked his friend over the roar of the crowd as a boxing match went on behind them. Nash motioned with his head to the top of the basement stairs where Dean stood leaning against the railing, his stony face observing the partying group below him. The pair watched as Luke gave a stern wave to the man, which they could vaguely translate as 'Get your ass down here and party like the rest of us. That's an order.' Dean seemed to square his shoulders in response and ambled down the stairs to enter the crowd. While he probably would have liked to disappear into the large mass, he towered over most of the guests and could be spotted from across the room. This led the scantily-clad women over in swarms, eager to warm his newly-vacated bed should he want some private fun.
Apparently, he wasn't in the mood for their company. One glare and a few harsh words sent them and a few bystanders scattering to other areas of the room, much to the displeasure of Luke, who just wanted his VP to act normal for a few minutes.
Luke was not expecting this much backlash from sending that woman to Lakeside. Sure, he got his killer back, but somehow the 'off' switch had been broken in the process, and now it was nonstop anger exuding from his usually stoic brother. Luke sighed as he watched Dean stomp over to the small bar, grab a beer, and park himself in the nearest chair, a look on his face that dared anyone to approach him.
An hour passed, and Dean was still in his original seat, having moved on to the harder liquors and starting to feel their effects. Getting up with a bit of struggle, he decided that he had put in enough of an appearance for the evening. He hated having to play nice just because the boss said so. Now all he had to do was make it to the staircase on the other side of the basement. Then he'd be free to retreat to a quiet back room by himself with another bottle of booze.
Murphy watched from a distance, as if in slow motion, as a drunken patron entered the scene innocently a few feet away from the large biker. He tensed as the two got closer and stood up as they inevitably collided. Cringing as he saw the man's precariously balanced drink get splashed across the front of Dean's shirt, Murphy tried to rush across the room to drag the Macon biker upstairs before he started something. However, the crowd prevented him from moving very fast as his friend's face got angrier by the second.
He arrived just as Dean's fist knocked the other man to the ground. Murphy tried to hold back the killer that lunged forward to continue his assault. “It was just a drink, bro, an accident,” he said, stepping in between the unconscious drunk and his friend to try to soothe the already out of control biker. There was no recognition in Dean's eyes as he shoved the blond man in front of him, who returned the gesture full-force as his own anger flared. “What the fuck, man? Are you out of your damn mind?”
In response, Dean threw a punch towards Murphy, catching him in the jaw only to receive a blow to his own face. One tackled the other, and they ended up on the floor, trading hits and growling out curses as they battled. Nobody nearby dared to try and separate the two skilled fighters for fear of being dragged into the fray. It was the combined efforts of Mack, Ian, and TJ as they arrived at the melee that finally pulled Dean from a slightly bloody Murphy, who tried to continue the fight only to be restrained by Nash and Luke.
“That's enough!” the charter president yelled over the noise of the two still trying to go at each other. The rest
of the basement's inhabitants were deathly quiet, stunned into silence over what they were witnessing. “What the hell is wrong with you two?”
“I'm so sick of your shit!” Murphy shouted angrily, wrenching his arm free of Nash's grasp, but making no move forward. His stare bore directly into Dean, who was still fuming and ready to fight. “For weeks, you've been snapping at anyone who looks at you and bashing people's heads in over nothing. It's getting really annoying. Grow the fuck up, man! Either let her go or grow a set and call her!”
Dean's face went blank as his friend's words hit him harder than any punch ever could. He had tried to tell himself that his sudden need to smash things had nothing to do with a certain young woman. But hearing Murphy connecting the two made the idea so absolute in Dean's head. The three men holding on to him for dear life released him hesitantly as he quit his struggle, though they watched closely to make sure that nobody started round two.
Without saying a word, Dean turned and moved through the quickly-parting crowd. He made his way angrily up the stairs and out the front door of the clubhouse. Too keyed up to get on his bike, he walked to one of the wooden picnic tables and sat down on top of it, resting his elbows on his knees. He hung his head in his hands and sighed heavily, failing to notice the man that had quietly followed him outside. Only when he felt the wood shift beneath his feet did Dean pick his head up.
Nash was sitting on the bench, his back leaning against the table that the other biker was sitting on. Dean glared at the man he had called a brother for many years, trying to send the message that he wasn't in the mood to talk. But he knew his quiet friend wouldn't pry into his business – that wasn't his style. Nash would wait for him to make the first move, and he'd be damned if he was going to spill his guts like some teenage girl at a sleepover. Dean snorted as Nash continued staring ahead, refusing to make eye contact or even acknowledge him as he stretched his arms across the wooden surface behind him.