by Bijou Hunter
“When that man died, my mother’s heart broke. She was convinced she never told him enough how thankful she was. This was decades after he saved her. They’d spent lots of time together. He knew how much she loved him and how grateful she was. But Mom didn’t believe that. She felt like she failed him, and now he was gone. It broke her in a way that she’s never quite recovered from, even after all these years.”
Ramona’s hand grips mine, consoling me without thinking. She’s like a live wire with her feelings. Everything is right on the surface, and I see how much pain she feels at hearing a story about a woman she’s never met. I think if we weren’t in public, she’d be in tears by now. That’s how close she is to the edge.
It’s also how close she was the day I first saw her and then yesterday. Ramona’s heart lives in a frequent state of danger, and my lies helped push her a little closer to the edge. I’ll need to be more careful. There’s no way I can walk away from this woman. Not after she looks at me like she does right now.
Insane or not, I’m convinced I’m holding the hand of the only woman I’ll ever call mine.
THE LEGACY
After Shane tells me about his mom, I need a cigarette worse than I’ve needed one in my entire life. He’s got me all fucked up in the head.
Why is Shane telling me such personal things about his family? Sharing his mom’s story seems like a con, but I don’t think he’s lying. Now I feel like a dick.
“That wasn’t true,” I say, holding his hand. “The thing I said about Matt.”
“Old Matt didn’t break your heart?” he asks, sounding ridiculously jealous.
“No, we weren’t that close. I just wanted a boyfriend that could pay for stuff, and he wanted a rocker girlfriend that would gross out his family.”
When Shane scowls hard at my words, I try to let go of his hand and lean back. But his fingers wrap around mine, refusing to let me go.
“His family sounds evil. Let’s hope they die painfully.”
His words aren’t particularly funny, but the way he says them makes me laugh. He sounds like a pissed teenager rather than a wildly handsome biker.
“Okay,” I say, biting my lower lip to avoiding smiling or laughing too much. “I didn’t feel right lying after you shared that stuff about your mom.”
“Why lie at all?”
I look at where his hand still holds mine. If Shane was any other guy, I’d be drooling all over myself right now. He’s unbearably sexy. Like right now, when his warm brown eyes study my face, I can’t look away. He’s big and strong, but not so much that I worry he might roll over and kill me in bed. I’d guess Shane was in his early twenties. There’s something about his eyes and tone that doesn’t feel quite grown up. His dark beard is thicker than Hugh’s, and my best friend is in his early twenties. Maybe I’m underestimating Shane’s age.
I guess I could ask, but I’m dumbstruck to the point that I don’t even answer his other question.
“Did you lie because I lied to you?” he asks when I just stare at his hand.
“I don’t understand what this is.”
“What?”
“Why did you just walk up to me and act like a fan? What’s the point of you wanting to meet again? Is it sex? Because I feel like there were easier ways to get me to agree to fucking.”
“And what ways would those be?”
“Threaten me. Get me drunk.”
Shane’s frown returns. “I’m not threatening anyone into sex, and how would I get you drunk if we hadn’t met?”
“Roofie me or something.”
“You know that’s fucked up, right?”
“You are a biker, aren’t you?” I ask, losing my temper a little and then remembering how he’s a big scary guy that’s also super sexy. I should probably just nod a lot and let him talk about his big dick or brain or whatever. Why am I contributing anything to this conversation?
“I’m still learning how things work in Shasta,” he says rather than getting angry at me. “But in Ellsberg, we didn’t roofie girls or threaten them into bed. If we had, our fathers would have beaten us to a pulp.”
“So, you’re nice bikers, then?” I say before I can keep my mouth shut.
Shane flashes me a gorgeous—if not a little evil—smile. “We’re cuddly teddy bears,” he says and then adds as his smile fades. “Until we’re not.”
“Okay, so are you looking to use your cuddly teddy bear moves to get me to fuck you? Or did you want something else?”
“I want to share a cup of coffee with you without anyone interfering. Then I wouldn’t mind grabbing a meal somewhere. Again, without anyone stirring up shit. If that goes well, we can talk about the fucking part.”
“So, wait, you want to date? Is that why you asked Kelsi about me?”
“Yeah. What did she say exactly?”
“That you’re great in every way, you know?” I lie because I’m not selling out my friend, even if I wish she’d stop hanging out at the Saloon.
Shane shares my smile. “She isn’t wrong. I’m extremely fucking awesome, even if I did leave out a few details when you and I met.”
“Yeah, that stupid sweater hiding your tats,” I mumble, as my fingers stroke his inner forearm tat with a blade running through a heart.
“You didn’t like my sweater?” he asks, sounding heartbroken.
“No, it was perfect.”
Shane reaches across the table and strokes my cheek. “Don’t look scared. I’m the nicest guy you’ll ever meet.”
Instinctively, I glance back at Hugh. If I had to guess, he’s watching a “Kids in the Hall” episode while waiting for me. When I look back, Shane frowns at Hugh.
“Who’s that?”
“My roommate,” I blurt out. “He’s here to protect me.”
“From me?”
I nod, which is dumb. Why am I not lying more? Oh, yeah, because he told me about his mom’s trauma. How can I bullshit a man who shared something so personal?
“You live with Kelsi, though.”
“There are three of us,” I whisper, nervous now. “The Band.”
“The, what?”
“We call ourselves the Band. That’s because our parents were okay with us hanging out all the time if they thought we were rehearsing,” I say weakly, thinking Hugh is in trouble. “We mostly just listened to music and smoked weed.”
Shane stops frowning at Hugh and gives me a little smile. “Can you play an instrument?”
“Guitar and drums.”
“And Hugh?” he asks, sounding tense now.
“He plays bass.”
“And lives with you and Kelsi.”
“He’s like our brother.”
Shane’s expression shifts immediately, and the tension drains from his handsome face. Just like that, he seems like a normal young guy rather than a killer ready to tear apart my best friend.
“That’s how River is,” he says, smiling now. “Taylor too. We got tight as kids and feel like family.”
“River is your club president,” I say softly, still nervous despite the sudden change in his mood.
“Yeah. He’s the oldest of eight kids and was always hiding at our house to get away from the chaos. He, Shelby, and I were tight since I was in fucking diapers. Then Shelby hooked up with Taylor, and we became the Fearsome Foursome.”
“That’s how I am with the Band,” I gasp, excited at the idea of this man being a little like me. Could we really date like normal people even though he killed Fuse?
Grinning, Shane flashes a glance at Hugh. I look at him too, finding my friend frowning because he knows we’re watching him. Hugh refuses to look at us looking at him.
“It’s funny how you had three tight friends, and I did too,” I say, pointing out the obvious like a fucking dipshit.
“Who’s the fourth in your group?”
“Max. She plays the drums unless I’m grumpy. Then I get to play them.”
“She,” Shane says, hiding none of his possessive calcula
tions.
I’ve never seen a man so obvious about his feelings. Everything is painted on his face. I wonder if that’s why he’s not the club’s president. Men in charge need to hide what they’re thinking. Maybe River is calm on the outside while Shane stands behind his president, looking pissed off and scary in a really handsome way.
“It’s nice that we have stuff in common, and I’m glad I told you the truth. We could be friends one day in the future, but I can’t have dinner with you or date. Like a quick hookup where no one saw would be fine,” I babble.
“So, you’ll fuck me but not date me?” he asks, frowning again. “Am I not good enough to be seen with?”
Leaning forward, I whisper, “You killed Fuse.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Shrugging, I lean back. “Well, people think you did, and those people will give me grief.”
“If they do, tell me, and I’ll give them grief back.”
“Even my mom?” I ask, and he loses his smug expression. “She loved Fuse ever since she was seventeen and first saw him riding around Shasta. He’s the only man she ever loved, and he died because of you. I know you didn’t kill him, you know?” I say, not really believing Fuse had an accident but willing to pretend as if I believe Shane’s lie.
I mean, he probably didn’t kill Fuse himself. Maybe River did or someone else in their crew. I heard from Kelsi how there are two groups in the club now. The Reapers from Ellsberg and the old Skullz. Hugh said some guys are still hoping to retake their club. Their plan is dumb. If they had the balls to challenge leadership, they’d have taken on Fuse, who was in his fifties. River is probably not much older than Shane. No way can they take them out. And I heard the Reapers have a much bigger club in Ellsberg.
So, while Shane didn’t kill Fuse himself, he knows who did, and they’re probably tight with him.
“My mom’s heart belonged to Fuse, and she’ll never forgive me for spending time with someone she blames for his death.”
Seeming stumped, Shane doesn’t respond right away. Probably because there’s no answer to the question in his head. He wants to wave away how people think in Shasta. That’s easy for him. Shane’s at the top of the town pyramid while I’m at the bottom where all the shit lands.
“You see now, don’t you?” I ask.
Shane does see, but he’s stubborn. I can tell he’s still working out a fix to his current problem. He probably always gets what he wants. What he doesn’t understand is how certain people in Shasta—including my mom—have taken a hard line when it comes to the Reapers. Anyone who is friendly with the new club is an enemy to the Skullz loyalists. My mom even cut off Kelsi’s mom despite them being friends for decades. Joanna wouldn’t stop hanging out at the Saloon, so Mom ended their friendship. I can’t imagine how my mom will handle me dating Shane.
“Was Fuse a good dad to you?” he asks, startling me with the question.
“Why?”
“I want to see him the way you do and how your mom does. I barely knew the man, but he never impressed me. Not even the tiniest fucking bit.”
“I don’t want to talk about Fuse.”
“Why do you call him that?”
“Everyone called him that. His real name was Albert. He didn’t have a nice name like you.”
“They call me Sandman because I’m so boring that I put people to sleep.”
Grinning, I shake my head. “I know what that kind of name means.”
“It’s exaggerated,” he says and shrugs. “I did some things when I was younger that made me seem like a badass.”
“How old are you now?”
“Twenty-two.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I cry, laughing. “You’re only a year older than me, but you made it sound as if it was so long ago. When were you a badass, then? At twelve?”
Shane flashes his perfect smile. “A little older. Some guy messed with my sister, and I messed with him back.”
“Is your sister older or younger?”
“Three years older.”
“And you protected her?”
“We’re tight. I have a lot of people I care about, but not a lot of people whose suffering is my suffering. Shelby is one of those people.”
My brain imagines a scenario where I’m important to Shane, and I know his family, and they’re nice to me. Once I stop dreaming of shit that’s never coming true, I sigh.
“I should finish up here,” I say, hating to leave Shane’s presence.
“Where do you need to be?”
“People are getting off work, and they’ll see us, and then everyone in town will know that yesterday wasn’t a fluke.”
“I don’t care about people.”
“Because they can’t do anything to you.”
“What will they do to you?” he asks, looking scary enough for me to remember his nickname.
“My mom will cry and drink too much and spiral in the way she’s been spiraling since Fuse died.”
“I call my father ‘Dad.’”
Shaking my head, I frown at his comment. “That’s nice.”
“My point is my dad means something to me. Your father doesn’t seem to have meant much to you, but you’ll blow me off for him.”
“You’re not listening.”
“You’re afraid of upsetting your mother.”
“Yes. Plus, there are other people in Shasta who will give me shit for hanging around with you.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
“You just don’t care.”
“I can’t not know you,” he insists in a forceful tone and then adds more softly, “How come Kelsi can hang out at the clubhouse, even though the Reapers are viewed as the bad guys?”
“People think she’s a whore. They thought that about her when Fuse was in charge, and they think it now.”
“And these people, how did they see you before I entered your life? Is it really so much better than they’ll view you if you date me?”
I know what Shane is getting at, but that doesn’t change how my mom will lose her fucking mind when she hears about Shane and me. I’m surprised she hasn’t called already.
But, yeah, Shane isn’t wrong that people already think I’m trash. No one who likes me—except my mom—will care if I date Shane. And everyone who will care—except my mom—already hates me. I think about how loyal my mom was to Fuse. She put him before everyone else, including herself and me. If Velma Verhees could be selfish for a man, why can’t I?
“Do you want to take me to dinner?” I blurt out.
Shane leans back in his chair, wearing a triumphant smile. He’s no doubt used to winning, but I’m not. That’s why no matter how much he smiles, I’m the real winner here.
THE ROMANTIC
I know I’m a jerk. Bullying girls isn’t normally my thing. Growing up with an unstable mom and a weird sister, I’m usually careful with women.
And Ramona does have a solid reason to fear dating me. Though Shasta isn’t tiny, the town is small enough for rumors to get around. I’ve been imagining Ramona as a local celebrity because of her job. Then I think about her car—a used two-door compact—and her address in the part of town the locals called “the Railroad.” Ramona is likely barely scraping by. No doubt, she lives in a part of Shasta where loyalty to the Skullz runs deep, even if Fuse and his family called “the Boulders” home.
“Why do they call it ‘the Boulders’?” I ask Ramona as we walk out to her car.
“Because the big houses have those large boulders at the end of their long driveways. Is that where you live?”
“Didn’t Kelsi tell you anything when you saw her last night?”
“Kelsi doesn’t talk about stuff she hears at the clubhouse, you know?”
Nodding, I answer her earlier question. “I think our house is technically part of the Boulders, but we don’t have big rocks at the end of our driveway.”
“Do you live with your sister and River?”
“Yeah, in the green house with the willo
w trees.”
“The ghost house?” she asks, laughing. “No.”
“We need a big place for our families to stay when they visit from Ellsberg.”
“Is it creepy inside?” she asks, looking so unguarded in her curiosity that I don’t know if I've ever seen anyone more beautiful.
“I’ll bring you over after dinner.”
“No.”
“Are you scared?” I ask, and Ramona’s smile fades. “Of me or that house?”
“Let’s take things slow. Like sex is cool, but meeting your family is not.”
“Why is sex cool?”
“Are you old-fashioned about fucking?” she asks, glancing around before smirking at me. “You getting a blowjob from Kelsi makes me think you aren't.”
“You know about that, huh?” I say as her words feel like a punch to the gut. “Well, I want it noted that I didn’t know about you when I did that. Since I saw you, I haven’t done shit with anyone.”
“That’s sweet, but sex isn’t that big of a deal. People around here fuck everyone. Don’t let any of the more religious types convince you otherwise. Shasta is one big fuck-fest.”
Her teasing wink makes me smile, even though I hate her knowing I was ever with Kelsi. I normally don’t care what a girl thinks about me. If she finds me foul in some way, fuck it. There are other girls in the world. However, I’ve come to the realization that there is no other Ramona.
That’s why I keep pushing. I have to keep Ramona close, even if it upsets her mom or sets off the assholes in Shasta. I need her, so all other concerns must be shoved aside. Yeah, I’m a jerk.
I even enjoy a short kiss before Ramona opens her door. The look she gives me when our lips part breaks my heart and kicks me in the balls. She’s terrified of me, even though she’s unable to look away.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says before her gaze finally peels away from mine and notices Hugh heading toward her car.
“Hey,” I say, but he only gives me a head nod and slides into the passenger seat. Before Ramona can leave, I caress her cheek and repeat the word “tomorrow.”
Watching Ramona drive off, I feel eyes on me. I often do in Shasta. Until today, I assumed they were checking me out because I’m a good-looking fucker with the power to kill them. Now I assume they’re searching for juicy gossip.