RIDE (A Stone Kings Motorcycle Club Romance)

by Daphne Loveling

  I was a little disappointed that he didn’t seem happier for me, but told myself that I was being silly. I chalked his distractedness up to club business and didn’t push it, knowing that if it was club business, he likely wouldn’t tell me anything about it anyway.

  Eventually, I stopped talking, and he held me in his arms and kissed me until we fell asleep some time later. In the morning, when I woke up, he was already gone.

  16

  Levi

  I had slipped out of Cherish’s bed just as it was beginning to get light. It was harder than hell leaving her like that, all warm and soft and beautiful, but I needed some time to clear my head. The club had some serious business to attend to in the days ahead, and I needed to be focused for it.

  But most of all, I needed to be away from Cherish’s gorgeous body so that I could think.

  Last night had been a mistake, I knew. A serious one. Oh, I had gone to her bed like I knew I would, had licked her and fucked her until she was screaming my name. It was maybe the best night of my life, and at the time I had felt happier than I could ever remember feeling, as I turned off the light and felt Cherish sink into my arms like she was born to be there.

  All that wouldn’t have been so bad, except I couldn’t keep my damn mouth shut. In my passion, I needed to hear her call my name, to tell me she was mine, all mine. I ordered her to say it, over and over, and she had, with no hesitation.

  I had had no right to do that to her. I had promised myself that even though I was falling for her, I wouldn’t try to hold her back. I had sworn to myself that I would let her walk away as soon as she got her feet under her. Now, here she was, finally earning some money, getting her license… hell, pretty soon I figured she’d be renting an apartment somewhere in Lupine. She’d be moving out of the clubhouse any week now. But instead of keeping my emotions in check, in the heat of passion I’d said to her exactly what I had been trying to hide, even from myself: I wanted her. I wanted her to be mine. The thought of another man touching her, doing the things to her I had… it made me want to murder people. But I had no right to tell her any of that. If I couldn’t keep it light between us, I shouldn’t be with her at all. I should be pulling away from her, giving her space, not claiming her body and soul. And I realized, I couldn’t keep it light anymore.

  But I wasn’t sure I could pull away, either.

  Days went by. The club talked out our strategy, and scouts went undercover into Cannibals territory to do some recon and get a bead on the comings and goings of the men we’d identified from the surveillance tape. I buried myself in club business, and tried to ignore Cherish, hoping that after a few days she’d get sick of my indifference and forget about me. The idea was like a knife in my chest, but I couldn’t figure out any other way to do it. Whenever she was anywhere near me, the pull toward her was so strong I couldn’t fight against it. So the only option I had was to make sure that I interacted with her as little as possible.

  One morning about a week later, I woke as the sun was rising, took a hot shower, and brewed a pot of coffee. As with every morning, my dreams had been about Cherish, and I woke with her name on my lips. By the time I was finishing my second cup, I was so damn disgusted with myself for mooning over her that I finally pushed her out of my mind and forced myself to focus on the day ahead. In a few hours, Moose, Repo, Sag and the boys would be back with the three Cannibals they had nabbed outside a biker bar in Cooperton the night before. Moose had phoned Grey to let them know that they had picked up all three of the men from the video, plus one prospect who had the misfortune to have been with them. I smiled grimly when Grey called to tell me the news. That prospect was gonna get one hell of a trial by fire.

  The men would be at the abandoned farm with their captives by around six this morning. Grey planned to give them a few hours to stew in their own juices before the rest of us showed up. Around ten, I rode over to the clubhouse and met the other brothers, and we headed out to the farmstead. When we got there, we parked our bikes behind the large barn we used for interrogations and deals. Inside, Winger, Repo and the others were standing around smoking. Four men were tied up on rickety chairs in the center of the space.

  “Smells like Cannibal in here,” Trig called loudly, referring to the slight aroma of manure that still hung in the air from the barn’s working days.

  “Fuck you,” spat one of the men, a wiry, hook-nosed man with long, greasy hair.

  “Ooohhh, you’re mighty spunky for someone who’s tied up like a little farm animal,” Repo said easily, sidling up to the man’s chair. “You wanna repeat that into the mic?” he asked, holding his fist close to the man. “No? I didn’t think so.”

  “Man, what do you want with us?” the prospect yelled, trying to put on a brave face.

  “You, little man, should probably shut the fuck up,” I retorted, glancing over at him. “You stay out of the way, then you’ll only have to watch this. You keep flappin’ your gums, you’re likely to get hurt.” The prospect fell silent.

  “Though,” I continued, turning to the others. “He does ask a pertinent question. Why are you here? What do we want with you? Any of you wanna know the answer to that?”

  “I’m pretty sure they know already,” Grey said quietly. “I’m pretty sure they know exactly why the fuck they’re here.”

  “I got no fuckin’ idea, ese,” sneered a stocky man with shaggy hair and a prison pussy. “I think you got the wrong men. We were just having a few beers, minding our own business, when your boys picked us up.”

  “I’m glad you were enjoying yourselves,” countered Grey. “Because those might be the last beers you ever drink.” In the corner, the prospect moaned quietly, but said nothing.

  “Yo, what’s this all about, man? Cuz I seriously have no idea.” This one was muscled and square-jawed, and seemed to think he actually had a chance of convincing us they were innocent.

  “Fuck this,” Trig muttered. He leaned down and punched Square Jaw hard in the gut. Air rushed out of his lungs at the blow, and he coughed and gasped for breath, looking up at Trig with unconcealed loathing.

  “You pieces of shit have fucked with the Stone Kings for the last time,” Grey said. “We know you were behind the attack that killed one of our men a few months ago. We know you shot out Maisie’s Diner. And we know you bombed our fuckin’ clubhouse.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Square Jaw wheezed, shaking his head. “Man, we ain’t done none of that. You got it all wrong, man.”

  “Not interested in hearing your bullshit,” I barked.

  “You ain’t got no proof, ese,” the stocky one with the prison pussy scoffed. “You don’t know it was us, you just guessing.”

  “Surveillance cameras, fuckface,” Winger retorted with a smirk, holding up a thumb drive. He stepped forward and punched Prison Pussy in the face. A loud crack echoed throughout the barn as his nose broke. With a low gurgle, the man’s head lolled to one side, blood mixing with spittle drooling from his mouth. He wasn’t out, but about as close to it as you could come. Winger’s punches were insanely accurate, which was good. We needed them all conscious. For now.

  The prospect was getting pretty worked up now, squirming in his chair and I could hear his breathing coming hard and fast from fear. “You want to shut up,” I said harshly, pointing my finger at him. “Best thing you can do for yourself is to make us forget you’re even here.” He went instantly silent and still, and I almost laughed wondering if he would pass out from trying not to even breathe.

  “So,” Grey cut in, nodding at Prison Pussy. “Now that we’ve got your attention. Talk.”

  “We don’t know —“ Hook Nose began.

  The heel of my boot connected with his jaw with a sickening crunch. “You are about to lose your ability to say a fucking thing, so choose your words wisely,” I bit out. “We. Know. What. You. Did. We know the Cannibals are responsible for these attacks.” I turned to Square Jaw and sent stiff fingertips right into his windpipe, pinching just short of cr
ushing it. “You. Talk.”

  His eyes were streaming tears of pain. “What do you want to know?” he choked out.

  I eased the pressure on his windpipe just a little. “You’re gonna tell us which one of you was responsible for killing our man Hammer. For starters.”

  “I don’t know, man,” he blurted out. “There was a few of us there that night. He got in front of a bullet. I don’t know whose it was.”

  “You’d better figure it out, soon,” Grey said, his voice low and threatening. “Because the Cannibals are gonna pay for Hammer’s death with a life. If you gentlemen don’t know who it is, it’s gonna have to be at least one of you.”

  “At least,” I agreed.

  “I swear, we don’t know!” Square Jaw’s eyes were wild.

  “Let’s move on for a moment,” Grey continued. “Recognize this?” He held up the Aztecs patch. None of the three men responded.

  Trig drew back and backhanded Prison Pussy, hard. “The man asked you a question,” he rasped, pulling the man’s head up by the hair and forcing him to focus on Grey.

  He gurgled and spat blood, then said, “Skull told us to leave it there.”

  “Why?” Grey barked, taking a step forward. Trig pulled harder on the man’s hair to make him respond.

  “I don’t know!” he said. “He wanted to throw you off the track!”

  “He wanted us to think it was the Aztecs?” Grey’s voice was hard. “And risk a full-out war with the cartel?”

  “We don’t know why, man,” Prison Pussy said. “He said he was operating under Aztec orders.”

  Trig looked at me and raised his eyebrows. No one spoke for a moment.

  “Let’s go back to our brother Hammer’s death,” Repo spoke up. “I’m sure you fellas have had a few moments to search your memories. You happen to have any recollection of who’s responsible?”

  For a moment, none of them moved or spoke. Grey sighed. “Okay, then,” and drew his gun from the waistband of his pants. “I guess you all get to go together!”

  “NO!” shouted Prison Pussy suddenly. His wide, wild eyes went to Hook Nose, then shifted quickly to Square Jaw. Something unspoken passed between them. Then Square Jaw opened his mouth and blurted, “It’s him, man. Flaco did it.”

  Hook Nose’s face contorted in fury. He let loose a string of words in Spanish, his body flailing in the chair as though he itched to get loose and kill his comrades.

  Trig broke into a wide grin. “I think we’ve found our man, brothers.”

  Grey nodded once, which sent Hook Nose into another tirade. Trig pulled out his gun and backhanded him with it. “That’s enough now,” he said easily. “No reason to use off-color language.”

  I addressed the other three men, including the prospect. “Looks like you lucky fuckers get to live today. But unfortunately, you’re gonna have to watch your friend here die. When we dump you back in your territory, make sure you give the message to Skull that we’ve taken back what was ours.”

  I turned on my heel and walked out of the barn for a smoke. A few others followed, leaving Grey to do what he needed to do. As I sat on a low rock and enjoyed my cigarette, an occasional scream drifted toward me from the barn. Eventually, a single gunshot rang out. Trig emerged a minute or so later.

  “Well, that’s done,” he said simply. “Poor prospect lost his lunch when Grey shot that motherfucker. I ain’t sure he’s gonna make it as a Cannibal.”

  I chuckled grimly. “What about the other two?”

  “The fucker with the goat beard is acting all macho again, now that he knows he ain’t gettin’ killed. I had to backhand him with my gun to get him to shut up.” He smiled. “Felt good.”

  “We about done here?” I asked him. I stubbed out the butt of my cigarette and stood.

  “Yeah. Winger, Repo, and the men’ll dispose of the body and take the others back tonight,” he continued.

  Just then, Grey emerged from the barn. “I think we’re good to go,” he said.

  The three of us walked back toward the bikes in silence. The collective tension we had all felt for the past few weeks was finally beginning to ease. This thing was far from over, but at least Hammer had finally been avenged. I thought about the thumb drive, and the Aztecs patch, and wondered what Lalo would say when we brought them to him.

  17

  Cherish

  “Surprise!”

  I was still almost blind from the bright sunlight outside, but sitting at the table in front of me were Seton, Jules, and Monica. At the fourth, empty spot sat three brightly-colored bags with tissue paper coming out of the tops.

  I stared at the three of them, not comprehending. I was just supposed to be meeting Seton for appetizers. “I don’t understand…” I said dazedly.

  “It’s a surprise party, silly!” Jules laughed. “For you! To congratulate you on everything!”

  “But…” I stammered as I looked down at the bags. “Is this for me?”

  “Duh,” Monica smiled, shaking her head. She stood and came toward me, enveloping me in a warm hug. Jules and Seton did the same. “Now,” she said when they were finished, “sit down, order a drink and start opening!”

  I did as she was told, still trying to recover from the surprise of seeing them all there. I had no idea what to make of all this. At the Ranch, we rarely received presents of any kind. Birthdays and other holiday celebrations were forbidden as being displeasing to God and rooted in paganism. So, to have the three women all make a special point of giving me presents, just because, almost brought me to tears.

  “Thank you all, so much,” I sniffed. “You really shouldn’t have done this.”

  “Bullshit,” Jules said firmly. “If there was ever a reason to celebrate, it’s this. Look at everything that’s happened to you in the last couple of months. It’s amazing.” The other women nodded their agreement.

  Seton flagged down a waitress, and I ordered a Coke. “Nope,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “A margarita.” I smiled, remembering the first time we had met.

  “So, open!” Monica said impatiently, pushing one of the bags closer to me. “This one’s from me!”

  Monica had gotten me a beautiful leather-bound journal and a container of what she said were called bath bombs. “The journal is so that you can write down the story of all the amazing things that you accomplish,” she said. “Someday, when you have kids, they’ll want to know the story of your life. And you have an amazing one. And the bath bombs are for relaxing in your bathtub when you get an apartment. Everyone needs a little pampering now and then.”

  Jules gave me a beautiful set of drinking glasses with intricate designs of flowers etched into the glass. “I wanted to get you something practical, yet beautiful,” she said. I leaned over and hugged her, my eyes shining.

  Seton’s gift was the best of all, though. I reached into the bag and pulled out a beautiful forest-green dress, more elegant than anything I had ever owned in my life. “Seton,” I breathed. “It’s so beautiful!”

  “Well, since I knew your size, I thought I would give you something that you probably would be too practical to buy yourself.” She smiled in satisfaction. “And I knew that green would go perfectly with your hair.”

  I thanked them all again, trying not to choke up as I did so. Not long after, an order of nachos and a plate of quesadillas arrived with my drink, and we all dug in, chatting happily about everything and nothing.

  “So, Cherish, are you any closer to finding an apartment?” Monica asked between bites.

  “Not really. Seton has gone looking with me a couple of times. The problem is finding a place I can afford that’s not either a closet or disgusting.” I took a sip of my drink. “After my paycheck this week I have enough for a good security deposit, though, so at least I’ll be ready when I do find something.”

  “Are you open to a roommate?” Jules asked. “I think my cousin might be looking for one soon.”

  Monica piped up. “Are you kidding? She needs a place of her
own. So she and Levi can…” she raised her eyebrows suggestively.

  Seton grinned. “Yeah, that’s true! So,” she said, scooting forward. “Spill it, Cherish. What’s up with you and Levi? Have you talked about the future yet?”

  At the mention of Levi’s name, I stopped eating, suddenly feeling sick. “I, um…” I stammered and then cleared my throat. “I’m not sure we’re together anymore. If we ever were,” I said quietly.

  “What?” Jules asked, sounding incredulous. “That’s B.S.”

  “No, it’s not,” I shook my head. “He’s been avoiding me ever since… well, he’s been avoiding me for a little while now.”

  “Oh, come on,” Monica scoffed. “That man is crazy about you. Are you sure you’re not imagining things?”

  I shook my head again. It was true. Levi had barely looked at me since the last night we had spent together. The next morning, he had already left by the time I woke up. I didn’t see him all that day, and that night he didn’t come up to the apartment. Or the next night. Or the night after that.

  Seton must have seen how upset I was, because her face fell. “Oh, Cherish, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

  I started to tear up. “It’s okay. You couldn’t have known.” I looked down into my drink. “I’m not really sure whether there was ever really anything between us, anyway.” The idea that Levi had been just using me for sex made me want to throw up, but I had to consider that it was probably true. There was no other way I could explain his sudden distant attitude toward me.

  “Well,” Jules frowned. “There’s other fish in the sea, after all, but I really thought Levi was into you.”