Mica (Rebel Wayfarers MC)

by MariaLisa deMora

  “Don’t, Mason.” Her breath caught. Her fingers slid down his chest, tracing the letters inked along his ribs. “Could you even accept my love? Am I enough?” Shaking her head, she answered her questions for him, “You and I both know I’m not. I’m too afraid of some really big parts of your life. Those things are central to who you are. I can’t be everything you need.” She started moving her hand, stroking the hard length of him slowly. “You’d have to hide too much from me if we were together as a couple. It would break us, break everything.” Stroking him faster, her other hand slid low to cradle and massage his testicles. “If you accept my love, if you say it’s enough, you are lying—to yourself and me. You need someone who will be there for you always. You deserve so much more.”

  She leaned down and kissed the phrase tattooed on his skin—We accept the love we believe we deserve. Folding her legs, she sank to her knees in front of him, still stroking and fondling him. “But we can have sometimes, when there is need. Let me be your sometimes…until you find your always.” Rubbing her cheek against the length of him, she nuzzled her nose into the thick, curly hair at the root, breathing deeply. Wrapping her tongue around the head of his cock and licking languidly, she looked up at him and whispered, “We can have this,” and then she took him in her mouth.

  ***

  Riding side-by-side up the Dan Ryan, Mason and Mica were nearly home. She turned her blinker on, checking her mirrors and looking over her shoulder as they moved over towards their exit. Letting Mason cross over in front of her, she followed his lead through the surface streets, knowing he had the best idea of what she could manage with all the lights, cars, and turns.

  She was really tired and her butt was numb; it had been a long day with a late start. They hadn’t ridden terribly far on any of the previous days, but she was determined to make it home tonight. She wanted to sleep in her own bed for the first time in weeks, and was looking forward to hanging with Mason.

  Finally turning onto their street, she goosed the throttle and pulled up alongside Mason again, nodding her head and grinning. He made a mock bow and let her pull ahead, smiling widely at her. Riding in front of him for the few blocks to the alley that separated their property, she saw in the distance an enormous row of bikes parked on either side of the alley, and an ocean of black leather, colorful bandanas, dark shirts, and countless tattoos spread out across the lawn and road between their houses.

  Suddenly terrified of making a mistake in front of people who’d been riding bikes all of their lives, she put her feet down and idled through the turn, braking to a stop in the middle of the alley. She was relieved at least she’d had the presence of mind to pull the clutch before putting down both feet.

  Mason pulled up alongside her, tapping her arm to get her attention. He pointed to her house and indicated she should park on the concrete pad beside her back porch. She nodded and rolled forward with the tiniest bit of throttle, starting to pick faces out of the mass of people as she grinned at everyone. She saw Roach, Road Runner, and Doc, and then she saw Daniel’s friends Jason and Gary. They all slapped and thumped her helmet, back, and butt as she rode past, and she heard voices calling her name.

  Finally at the pad, she was going to pull straight up on it, but then remembered how Mason had insisted they all back into parking places, because it was easier to pull out than back out. Pulling past it, she idled the bike, pushing backwards with her feet until she was parked nice and straight. She grinned; Mason would be proud of her.

  Heeling down the kickstand, she leaned the bike over and killed the engine. She sat there for a second on the canted bike, just looking around and taking it in. Pulling off the helmet to hang it on her handlebars, she smoothed her braids back and fluffed her bangs. It was a little overwhelming, because she wasn’t prepared for the noise level that more than a hundred people brought to her backyard. Wow, they were loud. There was music too, and evidently a keg somewhere; she saw distinctive red cups everywhere.

  So tired that her legs were shaking, she hoped using force of will to not fall down getting off the bike would work.

  Standing, she started lifting her leg over the seat, when hands grabbed her waist and picked her up. Turning her head, she saw Slate behind her with that sexy lift at one side of his mouth, which was what passed as a smile for him. Twisting around and hugging him tightly, she pulled back and put her hands on either side of his face. She leaned in, kissed his closed mouth tenderly, and whispered in his ear before she stepped back, “That’s from Essa.” She watched his face closely as his smile widened.

  Behind him was Digger, waving at her with his arm around a pretty little blonde in leather with gorgeous full sleeve tattoos. Stripping off her leather jacket, Mica laid it across the tank of her bike and hurried over to hug him tightly. “I want to hear about everything,” she softly said to him, feeling his body move as he nodded at her.

  “Princess!” she heard shouted from across the crowd and stretched up on her toes as far as she could. She saw Tug making his way towards them, his signature bandana holding back his long, white hair.

  “Tug, I missed you,” she said when he was done hugging her. “So I smell food? Maybe barbeque?”

  He grinned, bumping his fist against hers. “Only a lot, princess. You look good on the scoot. I want to hear it all, the whole enchilada, so make a plate, come find me, and bring beer.”

  Mica heard a squeal and turned around as a slight female body slammed into her. “Oh, Jess, I missed you, too.”

  “I hate you so hard right now, you biker babe. You were gone way, way, way, way too long, and you look really good on the bike, and Mason looks good. Things are okay at work, but I miss you, and,” Jess pulled her head back and tenderly butted Mica’s forehead with her own, “that’s for pissing me off, because you were gone too long,” another head butt, “and that’s for pissing Brandy off and making it so I don’t get none…not even cupcakes.”

  Laughing, she unwrapped Jess and put her arms around both her and Brandy, hugging them tightly for a minute. Feeling a familiar hand at her waist, she backed up a half step into the hard body behind her, looking up to see Mason smiling down at her. Things had been so easy between them today. Acknowledging the desire and tension between them had dissolved barriers inside their friendship she hadn’t even known were there.

  Leaning back against him, she tilted her head up and stole one kiss, and then another. Then she asked him, “When did you do all this?”

  He shook his head, pointing at Slate. “Wasn’t me, babe. Slate may have made a couple of calls.”

  Kicking her toe against Slate’s boot, she told him, “Thanks, jerkface, you done good,” and she was rewarded with his one-sided grin again.

  54 -

  It’s a party

  Lying on a blanket on the ground, Mica groaned, “Oh, my God, I am so stuffed. I couldn’t eat anything else. Someone get Road Runner away from me; he’s too good on the grill. Make him stop.” Rolling so she could see the offensive cook, she didn’t miss the grin on his face from her scolding, “Seriously, Road Runner, where did you learn to cook like that?”

  “Cordon Bleu,” he said, laughing at the look on her face. “No, seriously, princess. I’m the lunch chef at The Admiral.” Puffing out his chest, he added, “I am not just a mountain of a man; I also create culinary masterpieces.” Blowing out the air in a loose raspberry, he made a face at her, making her laugh.

  “You also aren’t meek—don’t forget.” They paused a second, and then both laughed loud and long. Mason was sitting on her porch watching from across the yard. He’d gotten a phone call a little while ago and had walked away for a few minutes. It felt odd to have him that far from her; since they’d left Texas, he’d pretty much been right beside her. Picking her head up to see him better, she waved and was gratified when he waved back, smiling at her.

  “Mica, you coming back to the office Monday? Your computer and monitor arrived today, and I’ve got them all set up at your desk.” Jess was si
tting on the side of the blanket, picking at threads along the edge, leaning back-to-back with Brandy, who was propped against her reading a book.

  Mica stretched and rolled over, then got up onto her elbows, putting her chin on her hands. “I thought I’d come in tomorrow. It’s Friday, and as far as I know, that’s traditionally still part of the work week.”

  There was a stunned, awkward silence, and Jess said, “Um…game five is tomorrow in Fort Wayne. Championship series. They’re tied at two games each. Aren’t you going to see the Mallets play?”

  Mica jerked like someone had knocked the wind out of her. Daniel would be playing. She could go see him. Jess was looking down; she had reached backwards to play with Brandy’s fingers and missed Mica’s reaction. “No, I don’t think so,” Mica said so quietly she didn’t know if Jess had heard her. “I only just got home.” She watched a man in a suit jacket make his way through the crowd towards Mason, who stood and clasped forearms with him.

  Turning back to Jess, she asked her, “Are you going to the game, Jess?”

  “Hells yeah, Daniel has a suite for friends and family; he invited us all up to watch.” This time she couldn’t miss the pain that rolled across Mica’s face. “Woman, did you check your email? There’s an invitation for all of us.”

  Mica rolled over onto her back and stretched again. “Still a painfully-full belly here, Road Runner. You are a horrible, horrible person.”

  Jess kicked her leg. “You are invited, Mica. We’re all going, and you need to come with.”

  Shaking her head, Mica narrowed her eyes at her. “I don’t think so, Jessica. If I don’t go into the office, I’ll just stay home. I have a lot to catch up on, and Fort Wayne isn’t in my future.”

  “Ohhh, should I be scared you pulled out the ‘Jessica’ card?” Jess sneered at her, laughing.

  Mason pointed across the yard towards the grill, and Mica grinned. “Hey, Road, I think there’s a new mouth to feed comin’ atcha.” She turned to him, watching as he quickly pulled out an empty platter to fill, then he turned around to size up the potential appetite, and her blood froze as he smiled big and shouted, “Daniel, man, good to see you!”

  ***

  Daniel searched the faces near the grill for Mica, but didn’t see her. Maybe Mason was mistaken and she was somewhere else in the party. He might never find her; there were so many people here to welcome her home. This was remarkable proof of how much this woman was loved, and how she had bridged wide gaps to bring together a very odd mix of people, who probably never would’ve become friends without her.

  In addition to what seemed to be the entire membership of the Rebel Wayfarers, he’d seen a dozen of his Mallets players, a bunch of people he knew from Jackson’s, and even several prominent Chicago businesspeople and clergymen.

  How Mica had made friends with all of them was beyond him, but she must have, because they were all here for her. He waved across the crowd at Jason, who had his arm around a very pretty leather-clad lady. Road Runner was manning the grill and yelled at him happily. Daniel grinned back, seeing Jess sitting on a blanket nearby.

  His heart started beating faster, because if Jess was here, he thought she’d probably know where Mica was. He started walking that way, when he heard a shout, “Danny, hold, dammit!” Turning around, he saw J.J. and Dickie coming his way, J.J.’s chair being manhandled across the uneven lawn by a big biker.

  He shook hands with his brothers and introduced himself to the biker, who he thought looked familiar. At least, he tried to introduce himself; the guy didn’t speak to him, just glared. Probably another one of Mica’s many suitors, he thought with a sigh.

  Dickie was grinning at him, obviously ready to share something humorous. “Did you see her ride in, Danny? She was fucking awesome.”

  Daniel shook his head. “I just got here; I got hung up at the office. It’s why I’m in the monkey suit.”

  J.J. slapped his leg. “We’re sitting over there waiting for them to get home, like everyone else,” he points across the alley at Mason’s house, “right there along the garage wall, and we hear these bikes coming. I can’t see anything, but Dickie said she was riding in front of Mason, sitting proud and strong.”

  Dickie interrupted, “She looked awesome, braids hanging down her back from under her helmet, a big grin on her face.”

  “So Duck here picked me up so I could see,” J.J. said, bumping knuckles with the biker, “and she stopped in the middle of the street with this shocked look on her face.”

  Dickie picked it up, “I don’t think she knew anyone would be here. It was awesome, and she looked hot, Danny. Something about black leather, bikes, and that woman.”

  Duck punched Dickie’s shoulder, only half-playing by the look of pain on Dickie’s face. “Ow! Dammit, Duck, I don’t mean anything.”

  Duck glared at him, poking Dickie’s chest with a hard finger, and the only thing he said was, “Fucking treasure.”

  Daniel had tried to keep up with the conversation shifts, but was having a hard time understanding what they were trying to convey. “She was riding in front of Mason? Is that safe?”

  “Well, I guess it’s as safe as riding behind. Her bike was smaller, but she looked awesome on it,” Dickie said. “She had on leathers and a helmet, so yeah, safe in front or behind, I think.”

  Daniel shook his head. “Her bike? She wasn’t riding with Mason?”

  “Nope. She looked like a pro, too,” J.J. grinned, “so maybe I can get her to put a sidecar on and take me for a ride.”

  Duck looked at Daniel. “Her bike is a Harley Davidson Sportster 883XL. It’s a sweet ride and easy for a gal, because the reach from seat to bars isn’t too much, and it’s light enough to balance easily. It’s also a very safe bike. Mason did a good job picking it for her. Michaela handles it really well, too; she wasn’t thrown by the crowd at all, and just idled over to park it by her house.”

  Looking at him as he talked, Daniel thought again that he was familiar. “Do I know you, Duck?”

  Shaking his head, Duck responded, “Nope, but you knew my brother. I’m Reuben Nelms.”

  Taking a short step back, Daniel looked around frantically. Oh, God, she was still in danger, even here among all these friends. This was Ray Nelms’ brother, and he surely wanted payback for whatever had happened to his family.

  Reuben held his hands out low, palms down, and speaking in a calm voice, he said, “Peace, Daniel. Peace, brother. Hear me out. Easy, man.” When he saw Daniel’s eyes focus on him, he nodded his head. “Hear me—there is nothing I would balk at in order to keep Michaela safe. Hear me? Like Mason says, she’s a fucking treasure. Hear me?”

  Dickie and J.J. were looking back and forth between them, not understanding what was happening. Daniel took a deep breath and said on a growl, “Does Mason know who you are?”

  Reuben was nodding halfway through the question. “Yeah, once I realized who Michaela was, I talked to him. I went to Texas and Oklahoma several times over the past few years trying to track down Ray so we could keep tabs on him. Keep her safe from him. I knew her from the circuit before she met Ray. I saw what he did to her, how he broke her.”

  He looked down for a second, and then brought his eyes back to Daniel’s. “I didn’t stop it. Do you understand? I didn’t do anything to stop him. All of this is partly on me. I will protect her the rest of my life.”

  Daniel took in a deep breath. “Do you know what hap—”

  Reuben interrupted him, “I know, man. I’m good with it. As Michaela told Mason, it was needed.”

  Nodding, Daniel waited a beat. “Does she—”

  Interrupting him once again, Reuben said, “No, she doesn’t know who I am. At least, I don’t think so, and for a second time, I’m good with it.”

  Looking at Reuben, he saw the resemblance clearly. It was there in the dark hair and eyes, the swarthy skin tone, and there was a sameness to the angle of the jaw, but Daniel saw many differences too. Reuben—no Duck, call him Duck, Da
niel told himself, was more than a foot taller than Nelms had been, his features broader. Far more importantly though, was the fact there was no cruelty evident in his face; no lines of malicious enjoyment burned there from nights of torturing other people.

  Duck’s face was easy-going and peaceful, his stance restful and centered. “You’re more different than alike, I think,” Daniel said to him slowly.

  He nodded. “Yeah, in most ways we could have been strangers. He was an unbalanced man who I scarcely knew.”

  Looking at him, Daniel put his hand out to shake. “You should be glad of that, Duck.”

  Dickie had gotten bored from the indecipherable conversation and had wandered away a few steps towards the grill and food. Daniel heard him shout, “Mica, sweetness, there you are!”

  He closed his eyes and jumped when a large hand clapped him on the shoulder. He opened his eyes to see Duck inches away. “She’s on the blanket near Road Runner. Take a breath, brother.” Duck let him go and grabbed J.J.’s chair, pushing him towards Dickie, then said, “J.J., call me when you want to get back off the lawn, brother. Happy to help,” and turned to disappear into the crowd.

  Daniel turned around, looking through the people between them and saw her face. She was sitting on a blanket on the ground looking up at Dickie with her heartbreaking smile, and he watched as his brother settled down beside her.

  “J.J.,” she yelled, getting up and going to him for a hug, “it’s so good to see you.” She pulled back and looked into his face. “I’ve missed you guys, and your mom. Tell her hello from me, okay?”

  Daniel couldn’t take his eyes off her, but she still hadn’t done more than glance at him. Could she forgive him? Did she still love him? He saw her take a deep breath, and when she started turning away from him, he blurted, “Hey.” Nothing else came out, just one word. God, his mouth was stupid when he was nervous. Clearing his throat, he said more softly, “Hey, Mica.”