Inferno Glory MC

by Jennifer Ann

  “For now.” She rips a piece of paper off a pad in front of her and scribbles a set of numbers. “I have an apartment a couple miles away, but I might have to move if I don’t find a roommate soon. Can’t afford the place on my own now that I kicked my jerk of a boyfriend out.”

  Damn. If I had money to pay for rent, it’d be the perfect solution to my homeless situation.

  Passing the paper over to me, she asks, “What about you? Just passing through?”

  “Long story. I’ve been staying nearby, but now I’m without a place or money to pay for one.”

  “This might end up being your lucky day. Bossman has been talking about hiring another girl. You know how to pour a cup of coffee?”

  “I suppose,” I answer, shrugging. Never saw myself as the waitress type, but desperate times call for all kinds of possibilities I’d never considered before. By the end of the week I have to report to my PO in Los Angeles. If Remmy doesn’t get me voted in as an honorary member by then, I’m going to need something good to report.

  “The pay here’s shit, so I have two other jobs. But it’d be enough to get you by the skin of your teeth, and even throw a little my way for rent.”

  “Well I don’t have any references, and I’ve done time.” Sighing with a low hum, I shake my head. “My life’s a walking catastrophe.”

  “Yeah, well I’m betting I could one up on you.” She giggles in a quirky sound. “We should go for drinks when I get off my shift in a few hours—my treat. We could exchange brutal histories, and get to know each other better before you decide if you want to live with me or not. The owner of this place doesn’t give a shit about your history as long as you show up to work on time, and I’m not going to hold your record against you unless you plan to butcher me in my sleep.”

  “We’re ready for our bill, Mac,” one of the men behind me calls out.

  Mac stands on her tiptoes, smiling brightly at him. “Sure thing, sugar!” Moving back down on the balls of her heels, she throws me a wink. “The old farts that come here give good tips if you’re extra flirty. I’ll be right back.”

  She dances away with a pot of coffee in hand, leaving me with my thoughts. Less than an hour after the fallout with Colt, it seems I’ve found a solution to all my problems just by taking shelter from the rain. If being with Colt has taught me anything, it’s that if something seems to be too good to be true, it likely is.

  I hear Mac’s playful banter with the customers behind me before she reappears behind the counter, grinning sadistically. After the bell over the door rings, she laughs. “Ten bucks between the four of them. Not bad for a couple of truckers.”

  “Your personality has way more bubbles than mine,” I say with a laugh. “Not sure I’m cut out for this.”

  “No, it’s just something you learn to do in order to make extra money,” she assures me, tucking the money into her bra. “I’m a hard-assed bitch once you get to know me.”

  The bell rings behind me again. Mac’s eyes darken, and she sets her chin on her hands. “Oh. My. God. Check out the gorgeous hunk of a man headed this way.”

  I brace myself against the edge of the countertop, knowing without looking that it’s either Ranger or Colt. A large hand squeezes my shoulder. “Hey, babe,” Ranger’s deep voice rumbles. Lips brush against my cheek before he settles in the seat beside me with an amused smirk. “Look like you got a little wet.”

  Understanding flickers in Mac’s gaze as she stands upright. She turns to Ranger with a bright smile. “Can I get you anything, sugar?” Her eyes widen on me. “I mean, sir?”

  “Mac, this is my friend Ranger,” I tell her, wrapping my hands around Ranger’s slightly damp bicep.

  Mac leans over the countertop on my side opposite of Ranger. “Not the stalker asshole boyfriend?” she whispers.

  I shake my head, laughing.

  “Is he single? Because I’d really like to climb that boy like a tree.”

  A loud cackle of a laugh springs from my lips. The idea had crossed my mind a time or two when I first met Ranger and Colt. Though I feel a small pang of jealousy with the idea of them hooking up, Ranger doesn’t belong to me and he deserves to be happy. He’s going to need someone at his side when he learns the truth about Colt.

  “It’s all good,” I assure her, laughing a little harder when she leans back to comically tug down on her tank top and pat her hair. She offers a hand to Ranger, staring at the ink below his short sleeves. “Nice to meet you, Ranger. Those military tattoos I see?”

  Ranger accepts her hand, frowning like he’s confused. Does he not realize the effect he has on women?

  “He’s a former Marine,” I answer, nudging his side. “Mac and I are going to grab drinks when she gets off. Be nice, and maybe we’ll let you join us later.”

  His frown disappears all at once to be replaced with a flicker of hope. I lean into him and whisper, “Get your mind out of the gutter, perv.”

  “I’ll take a water,” Ranger tells Mac before shooting me an incredulous look.

  “Sure thing,” she answers, apparently unfazed by his strange behavior.

  When she turns her back to us, Ranger touches my thigh. “Colt said the two of you got in another fight.”

  Suddenly fuming again, I narrow my eyes. “Did he tell you why?”

  “None of my business.” He shrugs, squeezing my leg before releasing it. “He said you just need time to cool off, and didn’t like you ridin’ in the rain.”

  “Delusional son of a bitch,” I grumble before taking another sip of coffee. “If you knew what happened, I guarantee you wouldn’t be on his side. It’s going to take more than ‘time’ to fix it.”

  Suddenly over Colt’s betrayal, I stand to pull the last of the cash from Colt out of my back pocket, throwing a $5 bill on the counter before taking the paper with Mac’s number. She returns with a glass of water, frowning on the cash. “You’re leaving?”

  I pull on Ranger’s shirt until he stands beside me. “We’re just going for a ride down to LA,” I tell her. “We’ll swing back to get my bike when it stops raining. What time are you done?”

  “Three.”

  Hooking my arm through Ranger’s, I flash her a smile. “I’ll send you a text with my number. Thanks, sugar.”

  “See that? You’re a natural,” she answers, giggling. She throws Ranger a wink. “Hope to see you later, big guy.”

  Ranger tips his head in reply. Once we get to the door, he stops me. “What’s in LA?”

  “Something I should’ve done a long time ago,” I answer, stopping to kiss his arm before dashing into the pouring rain toward his pickup.

  29

  Fresh ink covered in plastic-film wrap, I enter into the quaint bar on the edge of town to meet Mac, strutting like I own the place. It’s dark and dirty with The Doors crooning from the speakers. There are a few hipsters in the corner, but most of the patrons seem normal enough, and I had parked my bike beside a long row of Harleys. It’s actually the kind of place where I feel at home.

  “Harley!”

  I turn with the sound of my name, finding Mac standing and waving from a small table near the back. Changed into a cropped black top with white polka dots and high-waisted white shorts, hair released from the up-do and twisted away from her face on the sides, Mac is drop-dead gorgeous. Though Ranger refused to admit he was interested in her on the ride to LA, he won’t know what to do with himself when he joins us later.

  As I walk her way, I tease my hair with my fingers, knowing I likely look like the survivor of a train wreck after riding in the rain earlier. But I wasn’t about to return to Colt’s to freshen up, and I’m not looking to impress anyone. I just need to clear my head, and find a way to forget about Colt for awhile.

  “What’s your poison?” Mac asks.

  “Jack and coke,” I answer.

  Hooking her fingers inside her mouth, she turns to the bar and whistles loudly. “My friend will take a Jack and coke, Bernice!” she calls out. The older woman be
hind the bar rolls her eyes and flips her middle finger in response. “She secretly loves me,” Mac insists. Then her eyes catch my arm and she grabs onto it. “You left me to get new ink?”

  I laugh. “Just so you don’t think I was full of shit about being broke, it was done as a homecoming gift by an old friend looking to expand his portfolio.”

  The minute Jimmy saw me in his shop, he cleared his calendar to finish his masterpiece, just as I had anticipated. Ranger kept glaring at the poor guy like he was waiting for an excuse to rearrange his face, so I finally sent him away to buy us lunch, letting Jimmy finish in peace. It took half an hour to convince Jimmy that Ranger was only looking out for me, and wasn’t quite so scary on a normal day.

  “I literally spent the last of my disposable cash on gas so I could get here,” I add.

  Mac’s eyebrows raise. “Jawa’s Angel?”

  “My father.” Not only did Jimmy pen the nickname in the same font as the MC’s official logo, but he added more color and flowers around the skull he originally designed until it was finally completed.

  “This is amazing,” Mac declares, lightly touching her fingertips over the plastic covering the neat lettering. “He did stellar work.” She releases my arm as she tilts her head at the table. “Go ahead and sit your gorgeous ass down while I get your drink. I have a surprise for you.”

  I almost miss the bench with the mention of a surprise. I’d rather be prepared and know what’s headed my way than have another bomb like the one Colt dropped on me. Hopefully whatever it is won’t be as earth-shattering since we just met a few hours ago.

  Colt sent many texts after I disabled the GPS on my phone. The messages were all apologetic in nature, and he begged for a second chance without being pushy. The only time I answered was to ask him to pack my things, and have them delivered to the MC. He answered with a simple, “of course.”

  As Mac returns with my drink in hand, I suddenly wish I hadn’t found out about Colt until after he had set me up with a psychiatrist. Since they’re not allowed to share patient info, it would’ve been the perfect sounding board for my next decision.

  “I started a tab, so don’t be shy,” Mac says, handing me the drink. She slides in across from me. “Okay, so now for the good news. Screw the diner, I got you a gig for the big bucks. I called my boss at the modeling agency. Based on the description I gave him, he thinks you’d be perfect for an upcoming project.”

  Brown liquid sprays out of my mouth, sending Mac into a fit of giggles. “I’m not a fucking model,” I tell her, patting a napkin over the drops of booze soaking into my lacy tank top.

  Still giggling, she rolls her eyes. “Maybe not now, but wait until Samuel gets you behind his lens. The edgy type is totally his thing. When I told him you’re a legit biker, he almost blew a wad in his jeans.”

  I shake my head, trying to erase the visual of a balding man with a beer gut getting hot and bothered as Mac told him about me. “Thanks just gross.”

  “He’s not like that, I swear. He’s easy to work with. And this is easy money, Harley. Would you rather spend eight hours on your feet, kissing the wrinkly old asses of a bunch of pervs to make minimum wage, or a few hours posing for a hottie to make a couple grand?”

  “‘Couple grand?’” I repeat, cocking an eyebrow. Nothing with that high of a payout can be legal, can it? “What kind of project are we talking about?”

  “He works for big-shot magazines. I didn’t ask what he had in mind for you specifically, but you should come by tomorrow and check it out. If you’re a good fit, you’ll be able to pay your half of the rent for months in a matter of days.”

  “Maybe.” I gulp down my drink, unsettled by the idea of my image showing up in national magazines. “So what’s this story of yours that you thought would outdo mine? Before you start, you should know that I just finished a three-year prison sentence for something I didn’t technically do, my estranged dickhead of a brother is trying to ruin my life, and the only family I have left is a bunch of bikers in my father’s old motorcycle club. Oh, and a few hours after I admitted I was in love for the first time in my life, serious shit went down with my man, and I don’t know that it’s something we can get past.” Damn. My story sounds even more fucked-up when I say it aloud.

  “Ouch,” Mac answers, narrowing her eyes. “How long have you been out?”

  “A week.”

  “Damn, girl! That calls for some serious shots!” She whistles at Bernice again. “Four shots of tequila! Shit, what am I talking about? This is a celebration! Shots for everyone in the bar!” A table filled with bikers to our left cheers in appreciation.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  Shrugging, she says, “I know. But we should toast to this new friendship of ours because I have a sixth sense that we’re going to get along incredibly well. I grew up with a father who went to prison because he was a thug who stole things from hard working people. My mom pimped me for sex to her friends when I was seventeen to pay the bills.”

  I lean back, blowing out a long breath. “Jesus, Mac. That’s fucked-up.” Maybe she does win for having the most shitty childhood between us.

  She nods. “After I was caught and sent to foster care, it took years before I believed that I didn’t willingly do anything wrong. It was the only way to appease my sick fuck of a mom. The only good thing that came out of the situation is that the men I slept with were all pretty decent, and taught me the ways of kinky sex.” One of her dark eyebrows quirks and she leans over the table. “You ever have sex in a room full of people watching you, Harley?”

  Shaking my head, I swallow down a whimper. I’d seen it happen several times on the inside, but I was too terrified that it would one day happen to me to be turned on by the sight. And the fact that Mac was a teenager when she learned about that kind of kinkery makes my stomach churn.

  “Relax, I was an adult when I tried it,” she says, waving a hand between us. “The last boyfriend and I went to a few of these voyeur parties where you can either put on a show, or watch others get it on. I’m telling you, girl, there’s nothing like it. So fuckin’ erotic…I could’ve died. Too bad that was like five months ago and I haven’t been laid since.”

  My mind immediately jumps to images of Colt ravaging me in a room filled with strangers. Not something I’ve ever tried or even considered before, but I suppose it could have its benefits. Shit. I’m still fantasizing about Colt.

  Bernice stops at our table with a tray full of shots, jarring me back to reality. The gray haired woman grumbles to herself as she slams four in front of us, splashing tequila everywhere.

  “Thank you, Bernice,” Mac sings, taking a handful of lime slices off the tray. “I love you, Bernice.”

  The woman rolls her eyes before moving on to the next table. Mac hands me a shot, then takes one for herself and covers her hand with salt from the shaker on the table. I do the same as she raises her glass, a grin stretched from ear to ear. “Here’s to Harley and Mac. May we always get along, and never want for more!”

  I clink glasses with her and we down the shots before sucking on the limes. After a second time, Mac yowls loudly, slamming her hand on the table. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about!”

  Aside from the twisted story of her mom’s friends, Mac seems normal enough and we’re soon engrossed in lively conversations of past boyfriends, concerts we’ve been to, life in high school, and stories of motorcycle runs.

  I end up sharing way more information about the past week than I intend, leaving out the part about Colt working for the AFT, but telling her about Logan and Ranger. There’s a sensual vibe about Mac that makes it easy to confide in her of such things, probably because she’s so open about sex and into some pretty kinky shit.

  Mac’s eyes are the size of saucers when I give her a small taste of club life, and even more than before, I picture her being a perfect fit for Ranger. Hell, she’d get along with Kandi and the girls just as well.

 
I’m on my second glass of whiskey when Ranger appears in his club jacket and jeans with a chain for his wallet, recently washed hair flowing down around his shoulders instead of pulled back in the usual bun. I hear Mac suck in her breath the same time I do.

  It seems my body will always react to the sight of the beautiful giant, even though I know he won’t ever be mine. As he steps up to our table, I shift my thighs to alleviate the sexual charge between them. His brown eyes are somber when he takes my arm, completely blowing Mac off. “We have to talk.”

  First thing that comes into my head is that Colt was injured again. My heart leaps into my throat. “What is it?” I ask, teetering when his hand hooks under my armpit.

  Ranger glances at Mac for the first time. “Colt made me tell him where you are. He’s worried outta his mind that you’ve left him for good. He didn’t leave me any choice. He’s waitin’ outside by your bike.”

  “Then we’ll take a taxi out the other way,” I say, motioning to Mac to stand along with me. “Can we go to your place?”

  “Is this guy dangerous?” Mac asks, standing slowly as if unsure.

  “I just wanna talk to you, darlin’,” Colt says from behind me.

  Ranger and I twist around to look at him. Both sides of his hair pushed all the way behind his ears, clothes wrinkled, pain and regret in his beautiful eyes heavy, he looks like a wreck. I have to stop myself from reaching out to comfort him.

  “Not here,” I say, hoping to keep a sudden rush of tears at bay.

  Until Colt’s fingertips touch my elbow, I hadn’t noticed he isn’t wearing his sling, though he is moving slower. “Then I’ll take you back to my place.”

  I grind my teeth when an electric bolt shoots up my arm. “No.”

  “You can both come back to my place,” Mac volunteers. When I turn to her, she shrugs. “You were gonna spend the night there anyway. And I’m ready to call it a night.”