Impulsive (The Houston Defiance MC Series Book 4)

by K E Osborn

  Nothing is safe from the Heathens.

  You might have paid for security,

  but nothing will stop us.

  Now we’ve found it, Oakley.

  Next, we find you!

  “I can’t believe they found it! I paid so much to keep this safe.”

  Neon squats down to my level. “You know this means you can’t stay in Dallas?”

  “I’m in the middle of a season, Neon, I can’t go on the run from Rage. He’s going to find me anyway…” I sigh. “Let’s face it, I’m a dead woman.”

  “Not necessarily. Rage is a concern, for sure, but you have people on your side, Oakley. We won’t let Rage come after you.”

  “He won’t stop. He will never stop. Now that he has the proof, he can off me.”

  Neon grabs me by the shoulders forcing me to face him. “That’s not going to happen, I won’t let it.”

  The sternness in his voice surprises me. “Why? Why are you going to protect me? What’s in it for you?”

  He hesitates for a moment before replying, “Honestly? I don’t know. Maybe I see myself in you, someone fighting for the life they deserve.”

  “You seem like you have your life pretty fleshed out.”

  “I do now, mostly, but I didn’t. Can’t I want to help with no hidden motives just because I think you’re kinda cool?”

  I smirk. “You’re right about one thing...”

  “What’s that?”

  “I am fucking cool.”

  We both chuckle, then suddenly, my cell rings. I jump, pulling me back into the here and now to the damn issue at hand when I see Rage’s number flashing on the screen. I show it to Neon, his forehead creases and he barks out, “Speaker.”

  I answer quickly, putting it on speaker so Neon and the others can hear. “Rage,” I drone full of disdain.

  “Oakley, I see you’ve discovered we’ve found your hidey-hole.”

  My stomach sinks. Everyone starts looking around—the fact he’s said that means he’s fucking watching.

  “Oh yeah, we see you, and we can hear everything you’re saying. Neon, you seem to have taken a liking to our Oakley. I hope you enjoy my sloppy seconds,” he mocks, followed by manic laughter. “Just know… she’s going to take Defiance for everything you’ve got like she did us. It’s just we are smart enough to finally find the evidence.”

  “Fuck you, asshole! I wouldn’t have had to find a way out of the club if you didn’t treat me like a piece of shit,” I jab.

  “Treat you like shit? Oakley, you were the only woman I gave two shits about. I let you into my bed, into my club, into my business, then you threw it in my face, you damn whore,” Rage snaps.

  “You didn’t care about me. I got the job done in all areas, that’s all I was to you. Someone who followed through and let you rough her up when you felt like it.”

  Neon’s lip curls in obvious anger, his fists are curled tightly by his sides.

  “Struck a nerve there, did she, Neon? You showing me you don’t like to dominate your woman? What sort of man are you? Bikers should always dominate. A woman should be seen and not heard. It’s a shame, though, because Oakley loves it rough!”

  “Enough! Stop harassing, Neon. He’s not a part of this crap. It’s between you and me!”

  “Then come see me, Oakley, let’s settle this. Amicably.” He says the word with such disdain I know that can only mean with my head on a stick.

  Neon grips my hand, shaking his head.

  I exhale. “You leave my family alone. No one else gets hurt in all this, you swear?”

  Rage chuckles. “Have I ever lied to you, Nic?”

  I sigh. “No.”

  “Then I swear but only if you come to see me. If you do, no one else gets dragged into this.”

  “Fine.” I end the call and start walking out of the container.

  Neon quickly follows, fully aware Rage is still watching, listening to our every move, so he says nothing. I shut the door behind me, for what reason I have no idea while Neon studies my face.

  “I need you to take me home,” I tell him softly.

  He grumbles under his breath but nods. We walk over to his bike with Phantom and Texas appearing pensive as we all jump on. My nerves are running rampant, but I know what needs to be done.

  To protect those I love…

  … I have to do what I have to do.

  Sliding in behind Neon, he starts his ride, and I direct him where to go. When we arrive, he pulls the bike to a sudden stop. I slide off the back, but Neon doesn’t hold back his agitation. “Now we don’t have eyes or ears on us, you know I’m not letting you go to Rage. You’re gonna pack some shit and come to Houston where the club will protect you.”

  I widen my eyes as Neon jumps off the bike and rushes toward me.

  Phantom and Texas stand back, arms crossed like they’re in full agreement.

  I can’t help but scoff. “What? So my family can be taken by Rage? I don’t think so!” I storm past Neon, heading for my front door, but he follows me step for step.

  “Not negotiable, Oakley!”

  I spin, glaring at him. “Rage is going to kill me, Neo—”

  “Exactly why you have to come with us. I’ll get permission from Zero, our pres, for your father to be protected if you want. How do you think your father is going to cope without you, Oakley?”

  “He’d be devastated.” Slumping my shoulders, I sigh loudly.

  “So, we will protect the both of you.”

  I hesitate, thinking my options through. “You swear you will have someone protecting him?”

  Neon’s tense as he exhales. “Let me make a phone call, okay? In the meantime, you go pack some shit for an extended stay in Houston.”

  “What about the series?”

  “For now, until we find a solution to this Heathen problem, you’re best to lay low.”

  My breath catches. “I’ll lose all my sponsors! Do you know how long it took and how much heartache I had to face to get them? I can’t do that!”

  “Dan is in with a heap of people who are in the know. If it happens, I’m sure Dan will tee you up.”

  “You have all the damn answers, don’t you?” I smirk as I open the front door of my home.

  We walk in, and the three burly bikers enter my living room space. The size of them makes the area seem small even though it’s not. They all have muscles on muscles—they must work out a lot to be in the shape they are in. Phantom and Texas stand there admiring my wall of trophies including my Wally—which was presented to me at the NHRA national event—now sitting in the middle, a placement of pride.

  Neon picks up his cell, dialing as he walks off to the other side of the living room.

  I make my way to Phantom and Texas. “I want to thank you guys for coming out here with Neon to protect me.”

  Texas smiles a big goofy grin. “I got fried chicken, rode my bike long haul, and have had a chance to see a Wally statue up close. I’m digging this gig so far.”

  “I’m not long into a patch, so I do what the fuck I’m told. But you’re pretty cool, so I’m all good,” Phantom jests.

  I chuckle. “Well, I appreciate you both.

  “Yeah, I think so, too, pres. You making the call, see if they will take on the task?” I turn, hearing Neon’s part of the conversation to his president. “Text me when you know. Thanks, Zero.” He ends the call, giving me a single head bob. “Zero’s checking with another chapter of Defiance, regarding your father.” He smiles reassuringly. “Go. Pack. We don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to. Rage might have bugs in here, too. If Rage got into a supposed impenetrable space, then this will be easy pickings for the Heathens.”

  My eyes shoot around my home, nothing seems out of place, but I don’t want to risk it. So, I race to my bedroom leaving the three men in my living room. Running into my closet, I pull out a giant duffle, then throw it on my bed. Taking a deep centering breath, I get to work.

  Footsteps thump down the hall
. I glance up as Phantom and Texas saunter in. Generally, in this situation, I should probably feel threatened, but with them, I don’t. I’m completely calm and at ease.

  They move past me heading straight for the memorabilia on my walls, both seemingly fascinated.

  Texas grabs a photo frame from my side cupboard and assesses it. “Is this you with Karen Stoffer?”

  “You really do know your shit, don’t you?”

  Texas places it back down carefully for a massive man mountain. “I’ve seen you race… you’re good, Oakley. Real good.”

  I stop packing, slumping my shoulders. “Thanks. I’ve worked hard at it, but I’ve had a lot of family training.”

  Phantom scoffs. “Nah, man. Either you have the knack, or you don’t. Shit like racing, you’re born with it, it’s not made. Racing… it’s in your genes, in your blood, you live for it.”

  “Guys, you’re gonna give me a big head.”

  They both laugh. “All I’m saying is…” he takes a short pause while he thinks about the words, “… it takes a fucking lot to impress us, and you… you impress us, Oakley. So, no matter what shit you seem to have gotten yourself into… remember, above all, you have kicked a lot of ass, yeah?” Texas boosts my confidence right when I need it.

  “Thanks… that means a lot.”

  Phantom stares at a group picture on the wall, then turns to me. “So how long have you been racing?”

  “Years. Been around it even longer. So, I’m sad I have to pull out of this year’s season, especially when I was doing so well. I’m gonna miss the thrill of the speed.”

  Neon steps inside my bedroom, making my stomach fill with giddy butterflies.

  What the hell?

  Yep, the idea of having him in my room does something to me. I have no idea what, but I feel like a freaking teenage girl watching her crush for the first time.

  “This will be temporary, you’ll get back to the track. Unfortunately, it will take some time until we figure out what to do about Rage and the Heathens.”

  “Honestly, I don’t know how to thank you, Neon. You’re going above and beyond for me, especially when we’ve only just met.”

  “Call me crazy, but I feel like we’re on the right side of this one.”

  “Anyone on the opposing side of the Heathens is definitely the right side,” Texas says.

  I continue to pack as Neon’s cell beeps. He glances down and a bright smile lights his face. “Just got the all-clear. So, once you’re packed, we’re good to go.”

  “How are we going to get my stuff back to your clubhouse?” I ask.

  Neon tilts his head. “You got a car?”

  “For special occasions.”

  The corner of his lips turns up. “Well, treat this time as special, Oakley.”

  I exhale. My 1969 Chevy Camaro doesn’t come out too often, but she hasn’t had a run for a while, and the fresh air will do her good. “Okay, but if I get a single scratch on the paintwork, I’m holding you all responsible.”

  “Grab your damn bag and hold the lip. Let’s get back to the clubhouse.”

  I’m not sure what it is about Neon’s demanding attitude but throwing his alpha-hole crap around is actually endearing. The way his chocolate-brown eyes burn with intensity. The way his tattoos peek through the top of his shirt, making him seem like more of a badass than I’m sure he actually is. The way he rubs at the back of his buzz-cut scalp when he gets antsy or aggravated, and definitely the way his jaw is covered in that light shadow of beard. Neon looks alpha because he is alpha—all muscles and brawn. My eyes wander over him as I pick up my bag, swinging it over my shoulder. “Well then, lead the way, oh Jedi master.” I wave my hand out.

  “Wiseass… move!” He eyes the doorway. I giggle, making my way for the door as Texas and Phantom chuckle behind me.

  Walking out, I lock the door behind us, my hand lingering on the woodgrain as I release a heavy sigh. “I’ll be back,” I whisper, then turn toward the adjoining garage. Grabbing my keys from my pocket, I press the button for the garage door opener which immediately springs into action to reveal my Camaro under a cover.

  Texas stands back waiting in apprehension. I think he’s a car enthusiast.

  He steps in with me, and we pull the linen cover back to reveal my perfect car in pristine condition. The glistening sleek black paint, twin white stripes over the hood, and the chrome sparkling even though there is limited light. My Camaro is in the same condition it was back in 1969.

  Immaculate.

  Flawless.

  Faultless.

  My dad gave me this beast on my eighteenth birthday. Some spoiled girls get a little buzz box for their birthday, but I bet none of them got a 396 cubic inch big block motor, with a 375 horsepower V8 engine, 69 Camaro SS. Yeah, my father spoiled me, but I’m not from a conventional family. I’m not your typical daddy’s little girl who grew up with pigtails and My Little Ponies. No, I grew up with grease on my cheeks, dirt under my nails, and stained overalls.

  “Hooolllyyy shit! You own this?” Texas drawls.

  I chuckle. “Since I was eighteen.”

  “I need to have a drive… when we get back to the clubhouse.”

  He’s so freaking excited.

  “Jesus, careful your boner is showing there, big man.” Phantom smirks.

  I burst out laughing as Texas punches him in the arm. “Shut up, asshat.” And without a breath, he changes the subject, “So, can I?”

  Neon is shifting from foot to foot wanting to leave, an urgency about him.

  So, I am quick to answer with, “You know what… we’ll see how she handles on the drive. It’s a long trip for her, and she hasn’t been out for a while. But I’m not saying no, just we’ll see.”

  “Yes!” Texas throws his fist in the air in some sort of celebratory action, and all I can do is nod my head and smile.

  “Okay, let’s head out. I’ll follow you?” I ask.

  “Texas, you lead. Phantom and I will tail,” Neon instructs.

  My thighs clench together at his authoritative tone. However, I need to add, “Watch if I put my hand out the window, it means I need to pull over ‘cause she’s getting too hot.”

  Neon takes my bag from my shoulder. He opens the passenger door, placing it inside. “You need anything, give the signal. We’ll pull over.”

  I bob my head. My eyes meet Neon’s, and for a moment, just a brief moment, the molten lava of his chocolate eyes burn into me. The heat of his gaze sends a fire through me so hot it turns cold. Is that even possible? It’s like I’m shivering just from looking at him. I swallow a lump caught in my throat as he clears his, and we break our gaze.

  “Let’s ride,” he calls out, turning away from me.

  My chest squeezes as my body relaxes from the intense grip he held me captive with. Sucking in a deep breath, I slide into the driver’s side of my Camaro, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “Jesus Christ!” I mumble under my breath.

  Neon is a walking, talking, breathing enigma, and damn if he isn’t a puzzle I want to piece together. But the thing about puzzles is, eventually something breaks them apart.

  I just hope the thing that breaks Neon isn’t going to be me.

  NEON

  My head has been a jumbled mess on the ride back to the clubhouse. There’s something about Oakley that, not necessarily unsettles me, but has me on edge. Not in a bad way, but in a way I haven’t felt before.

  She’s gotten under my skin.

  That’s bad for a couple of reasons.

  One—because I never let women in to allow it to happen. Ever!

  And two—because it’s a distraction.

  Right now, my priority is to keep Oakley and my club safe from the fucking Heathens at all costs.

  I’ve drawn Oakley in under our protection, and now I damn well better follow through.

  As I pull up in front of the clubhouse, the gate registers Texas’ ride swinging open. It’s late, and as Oakley drives in behind him, she pulls up
in the right spot for the cars. Girl knows her way around a clubhouse, that’s for sure. But I guess she would, having been a hangaround for the Heathens for so long.

  Parking my ride, I slide off and walk over to her car just as she’s hopping out of the driver’s side.

  Her body slumps like she’s tired from the events of the day, even though her eyes are wide while taking in the compound. “This place is huge,” she chimes.

  “It’s not the size that counts, it’s the brotherhood that matters.”

  She bursts out laughing as I grab her bag, then lead her toward the entrance. Inside, it’s subdued. Kevlar and Sunshine are sitting quietly with their kids, Sadie and Lucas, who look like they’re ready for bed. Wraith cuddles into his bulldog, Mack, and Prinie rocks Sephy in her stroller as they chat to Siren and Nickel. Cherry and Zero sit cuddled together skimming over folders of fucking wedding notes at a table. They haven’t even set a date, supposedly they’re holding off until the right time. While Chills and Chains play pool together happily as their son, Kobe, sits with club girl, Lexi, playing with her hair.

  It’s incredible how in such a short space of time, Houston Defiance transformed from an all-out party club to a family atmosphere. There are kids everywhere you look—old ladies at every turn. Brothers falling like flies to women, and to be honest, it’s pretty damn awesome. The club might constantly be at war with some asshole, but in ourselves, we’re calmer. We are finding our place in the world. I can only hope I find mine one day like the rest of them.

  Oakley’s eyes widen. “This is so not what I was expecting.”

  “The kids, the happy couples, the lack of scantily clad women?” I mock.

  She chuckles. “Well… yeah?”

  “We’re not the Heathens, Oakley.”

  “I can see that. And can I add… thank God.”

  Nessie rushes over, a warmth enveloping her features. “Hi, Oakley, I’m Nessie, head club girl. We’ve set up a room for you, opposite Neon’s actually. If y’all need anything, anything at all, you just holler at me, okay?”

  “Sure, thank you… so much!” Oakley gazes over at me.

  “C’mon, let’s get your stuff into your room, then I’ll show you ‘round.”