AFFLICTED: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

by Nicole Fox

  For now, he said, “Yeah, you too,” and headed back to the table to grab his leather jacket.

  Chapter Three

  “I’m home!” Kelly called as she entered the one-story stucco house. Their home was deceptively modest; looked almost small on the outside. But inside it was furnished elegantly and expensively — natural wood furniture, stainless steel appliances. It had a very different feel from their condo in Ohio, but Kelly thought that, given time, she could learn to love it.

  She was a little nervous about school. The nursing program at UR was rigorous, but she’d made a couple of friends on Facebook who were going to be in her program. And, naïve as it might sound, she believed she was doing worthy work. Her mother’s nurses at the Cleveland Clinic had been wonderful — the only people capable of reassuring Kelly without it sounding false or overly optimistic. And they’d brought Jess Powers so many thoughtful little things that had made her more comfortable — puzzles, magazines, extra blankets, books. Kelly wanted to help people. Make them more comfortable. Get them on the road to wellness or else ease their transition from this world into the next.

  “Hello?” she called, checking the kitchen. Usually her father called a greeting as soon as he heard her come in.

  The house felt empty. She rapped softly on his bedroom door. No answer.

  He must not be home.

  She went back to the kitchen, made herself some tea, and slumped at the table, waiting for the tea to cool. Her mind wandered to the man she’d met at the bar. Gunner, his friend had called him. She shook her head, smiling slightly. She knew the type — overgrown boy, obsessed with his big, loud toys. Probably saw Kelly — demure, buttoned-up Kelly — as a challenge. Had probably slept with every woman in Romedo.

  She didn’t need to waste time with a guy like that.

  Except…

  God, he’d been hot. And honestly, she’d never really had a chance to explore her sexuality. Never had a one night stand, had never done anything even remotely kinky…

  She made a face.Explore her sexuality. That sounded like something from some sex-ed video. She’d just … there’d been one guy when she was eighteen — a handsome but bland poly-sci major. Shortly after that, her mother had been diagnosed, and Kelly had thought of nothing but caring for her for the next four years. She’d spent those years in and out of school, driving four hours up to Cleveland every weekend when her mom was at the clinic.

  She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to think about that right now. She wanted to think about Gunner. Those bulging, tattooed arms. Faded jeans, worn almost thread thin at the creases near his groin. His cocky grin, the smile lines around his blue-grey eyes … okay, so he’d sort of been an arrogant, entitled asshole, but she’d dealt with worse. And she couldn’t deny that one look at him had made her pussy clench, had gotten her dripping wet.

  And the fact that he had a bike…

  God, she wanted to ride.

  What she’d told him was true: Her dad wouldn’t approve of his daughter on a motorcycle. Too dangerous. To loud, too … improper. Her father did have some mildly old-fashioned notions about gender roles. He was far from a perfect man, but particularly after Jess’s death, Kelly had needed him. And he’d needed her.

  She glanced at her phone. A text from Jenna, one of the Facebook friends. Kelly had promised to go out with her sometime once she got to town.You doing anything tonight?

  She wished she’d gotten Gunner’s number. Then she’d be doing something tonight, that was for sure. Riding that big, gruff biker like the machine he was. What had all that stuff been at the end there? When his friend had come over and said something that had made Gunner hightail it out of there? She knew she hadn’t imagined that current in the air between him. She genuinely believed he’d wanted to stay, wanted to take things further with her.

  But the brotherhood had called. She rolled her eyes. She didn’t know much about biker gangs, except that some of them could be damned scary.

  Think I’ll just stay in, she texted back.I’m pretty beat.

  Okay. A bunch of us are going out dancing if you wanna come.

  Not tonight. She’d already taken Rex from the bar up on his offer for a welcome-to-town drink. And she’d already survived a chat up from Gunner. That was enough socializing for one day. Besides, she couldn’t dance; she just flapped around like a chicken. And people made extra fun of her, because, as her best friend Maddy back in Ohio put it, “someone as elegant as you shouldn’t look like a one of those inflatable thingies outside car dealerships when you dance.”

  Ah, well. People surprised you.

  Maybe, if she’d gotten Gunner’s number. If she’d spent the evening with him, he’d have surprised her.

  She jerked as the back door opened. Her dad walked in.

  “God, you scared me!” she cried.

  Russell Powers was carrying a stack of empty cardboard boxes. He grinned when he saw her. “My girl! How’d it go today?” He set the boxes down, nudged the backdoor shut with the toe of his worn cowboy boot, and came over to the table to hug her.

  “Pretty good,” Kelly said into his shoulder.

  He straightened. “What’d you get up to?”

  She shrugged. “Went to Hammer and Nailed to take Rex up on that welcome to town drink.”

  She didn’t miss her father’s slight frown. He didn’t mind her going to bars, exactly, but he’d been less than thrilled when Rex had told Kelly yesterday to stop by sometime for a drink. Rex was an old acquaintance of her dad’s — he had come to visit a couple of times in Ohio when Kelly was little. Kelly had always gotten the impression her father didn’t like her interacting with Rex, which was strange, since she’d simply been trying to be polite to her dad’s friend.

  Her dad quickly replaced the frown with a grin. “Rex didn’t try to put the moves on you, did he?”

  “Put the moves on me? Seriously? What decade are you from?”

  “Sorry, sorry. But your old dad likes to know.” Russell went to the cabinet to grab a glass and filled it with water from the tap. “I gotta look after my gal. Keep you safe.”

  He’d been this way for nearly a year, ever since Kelly’s mother had passed.You’re all I’ve got left. I’d die if anything happened to you. Take care of yourself. Stay with me. Stay with me, even though you’re a fully-grown woman, even though you have plans and dreams of your own. Stay with me — let me protect you even if you don’t want to be protected.

  “Rex didn’t put the moves on me.” She hesitated, wondering if she should divulge this or not. “But someone did.”

  “Oh?” Russell raised his brows, grinning over the top of his glass. “And who was this?” He drained the rest of the water.

  “I didn’t get his name. But his friend called him Gunner.”Gunner. She wasn’t sure if the nickname gave her a thrill or made her want to roll her eyes.

  That frown was back on her dad’s face. “Gunner?” He set the glass by the sink “You mean Cam Wilson?”

  “You know him?” Kelly asked, surprised.

  “I knowof him.”

  She knew her father had connections in this town — he’d acquired his new general store, Pete’s Goods, through Rex — but it still surprised her that he knew Gunner.

  Her dad folded his arms and leaned on the counter. “He’s a biker?”

  “Yes,” she said hesitantly, unsure what her dad’s reaction to that would be.

  He laughed. “So my baby’s got it bad for a bad boy, huh?”

  “Dad!” She could feel herself blushing. “I’m not … all we did was talk.”

  “You said he put the moves on you. That sounds like more than a friendly chat.”

  She laughed too. It felt good — to find these happy moments they could share. There’d been too few of those since her mother had died. “It was just a chat. He’sreally not my type.”

  “Hmm. Yes sir, I’d say my grandbaby’s finally on the way.” Russell drummed his fingers on the counter.

  “Oh my
god, Dad.” There was a genuine edge of irritation in Kelly’s voice, beneath the playfulness. Her dad had wanted a grandchild for ages, but he’d become especially fixated on the idea after Kelly’s mother had died. As many times as Kelly told him she wasn’t ready yet — that she wanted to focus on her studies first — he continued to talk about the day he’d finally have a grandkid. He’d gotten really obsessive about it, to the point where Kelly no longer felt comfortable with the topic of conversation.

  Russell held up his hands, still grinning. “I’m just happy for you, that’s all. I’m glad you’re getting out, making friends.” His expression grew serious. “That’s important, you know. You’ve been too reclusive these past few months.”

  “I know,” she said softly. It was true. It been hard, pulling the pieces of her life back together.

  “Just be careful,” Russell warned. “I don’t want you getting anywhere near a motorcycle.”

  “Dad.”

  He came to the table again and kissed the top of her head, like she was a little girl. “Those things are dangerous.” He took a step back, studied her just a moment too long. She wondered if he was seeing traces of Jess Powers in Kelly’s wide, hazel eyes, in her arched black brows. Her small, straight nose. People had always said Kelly was the spitting image of her mother.If only I had more of her personality, Kelly often thought.Her sense of adventure, her ability to make friends with anyone. People look at me, and they want to see her. Instead, they see me.

  “I have to get ready,” her dad said abruptly.

  “For what?” She was surprised. She’d assumed he’d want to stay in and finish unpacking. And then maybe they’d watch a movie or something.

  “I have a little errand to run. Nothing too serious. I’ll be back in a little while.”

  She wanted to ask what sort of errand, but Russell was already heading down the hall to his bedroom, humming to himself. Probably he wanted to go do some more work on the store. He was determined to be open early next week.

  She stayed at the table, staring at her phone, wondering if she should go out with Jenna.

  What she really wanted to do was go back to Hammer and Nailed and look for Gunner — Cam Wilson — again.

  But that was just silly.

  Girls like her didn’t sleep with guys like Cam.

  Girls like her stayed home and played nice.

  Chapter Four

  Chevy let out a whoop as they dismounted in front of the clubhouse — an old brick building that had once been a slummy pub. It had originally been sandwiched between two drab, vinyl-sided houses, but the house on the right had been condemned and eventually bulldozed, leaving the Horned Devils with neighbors on only one side. And the neighbors did so many drugs that the Devils had managed a pretty good live and let live arrangement with them over the past few years.

  The Devils jostled one another through the door. Chevy headed straight for the gun case and pulled out his black Ruger. Gunner reached past him for his Glock.

  “We ain’t gonna need the big guns,” Durango said.

  “No,” Gunner agreed, loading a new clip. “But they sure do look purdy.” He stuck the Glock in the back of his waistband.

  Durango punched his arm.

  Silverback entered from the back room. “Good, you’re here,” he said brusquely.

  “Man, how’d you even hear about this anyway?” Chevy asked Silverback. “Gunner was just about to get that girl’s drink thrown in his face. ’Rango and me was lookin’ forward to seeing it.”

  “Bullshit,” Gunner said. “She was totally into me.”

  Silverback ignored them. “It’s the old patrol hut. I’m sending you three, plus Mica and Bones.”

  Great. Bones was all right, but nineteen-year-old Mica felt like a tagalong kid brother sometimes. Silverback swore Mica worshipped Gunner and Durango, but all Gunner saw when he looked at Mica was a sullen teenager, sent here to make his life hell.

  “Been a while since we had to do a shakedown.” Chevy shrugged into his battered brown jacket. “We takin’ any money? Am I finally getting my new bike?”

  Silverback glanced at him. “Stop the deal before any money changes hands. Give both parties seven kinds of hell, and then get out of there.” He turned his gaze on Gunner.

  Gunner stuck a cigarette between his lips and flicked on his lighter. “Sounds easy enough.” He lit the cigarette and took a drag.

  Silverback gave him a long, hard look. “Be careful.”

  Gunner blew a stream of smoke toward him. “I always am.”

  “I’m serious, Cam. Don’t get reckless.”

  Only Silverback could call him by his real name and make him feel about eight years old. Gunner tried not to bristle. “Thought you said this was a simple shakedown.”

  “It is. That doesn’t mean it’s okay to let your guard down.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Don’t be reckless, Cam.”He’d heard that enough at age seventeen to last him a lifetime. “You’ve got potential, but you’re too brash. Learn some patience, some humility. It’ll serve you well.”

  Silverback thought he was some combo of Yoda and that old dude fromThe Karate Kid. And all right, maybe he’d been a better mentor to Cam than both of those combined. But Cam hadn’t heeded Silverback’s words, not at that age. He’d gotten into every mess he could find — drugs, fights, petty theft. Not just to give himself a rush, but to dare Silverback to get pissed, to kick him out.

  He’d been so sure — so fuckin’ sure — that if he pushed hard enough, Silverback would snap and beat the shit out of him. Put him out on his ass. Hell, there were a couple of times he’d half expected Silverback to march him out to the bike shed and take his belt to him, the way Gunner’s mama had done all those years. But he never had. He’d lost his temper and snapped at Gunner every now and then, but he’d never raised a hand to him. And eventually Gunner had gotten it through his thick teenage skull that he wasn’t doing anyone any favors by acting like this. Especially not himself.

  Maybe that was why he wasn’t a fan of Mica — too much like being followed by a shadow of his old self. A dumb, reckless kid who thought the world owed him something. Mica had been a stray like Gunner, like most of the Devils. And while Mica was his brother, and Gunner’d do whatever it took to defend him, sometimes he wished the kid would stay out of his way.

  Out on the open road, Gunner tried to concentrate on the hum of the machine beneath him. The warm steel of his gun against the small of his back. But all he could think about was Kelly Powers.God, that smile…

  Jesus, what was wrong with him? He’d never gotten sappy about a girl’s smile before. If he couldn’t bang her tonight, he’d bang her some other night. Simple as that.

  Eventually the sense of freedom overtook him. The desert flashed past, deep purples and blues in the dusk. He loved it out here — nothing but scrub and cacti, coyotes and owls. Durango rode up beside him. The sand kicked up by his Harley stung Gunner through his jeans. Durango revved his engine, and Gunner revved back. They raced across the sand, Durango pulling ahead, then Gunner, then Durango… Bones and Chevy were off to the left somewhere, and Mica brought up the rear. Gunner was never happier than when he was riding with his brothers.

  The Horned Devils had run Romedo and the surrounding towns for the past twelve years. And Silverback had guarded this territory even further back than that. Romedo had once been a hotbed of corruption — cocaine, weapons, massage parlor brothels… Silverback and a few buddies had run the worst of the riffraff out of town, leaving behind only themselves and the other crims who might come in useful to them.

  They’d formed the Horned Devils — a close-knit group of six that had expanded quickly. At the same time the Devils worked their magic, gentrification was beginning in Romedo. Pretty soon, the Devils didn’t have much to worry about except a little shit here and there from rival gangs. Jaws’s boys were still trouble on occasion, but mostly the Horned Devils owned this town. Over the past year or so, that h
ad shifted again. Crime was making a comeback around Romedo, and the Devils had to work hard to ensure that they controlled the crime industry here.

  They eventually reached the abandoned border control hut where Silverback had said the deal was going down. Statewide budget cuts had meant a few hundred feet of border went unmonitored. This spot had been a hotbed of drug-related activity ever since someone had mowed down a section of barbed wire border fence last month. The bikers skidded to a stop. Gunner leapt off his Honda, and the others dismounted too.

  They stashed the bikes in the hut and took up positions in and around the rundown building — Durango and Gunner at the front, and Chevy at the back. Bones and Mica had taken up posts behind some scraggly shrubs outside.