Cassie

by deMora, MariaLisa

  Twisting to look at Cassie again, he recognized the truth of what Tug said. The tightly clenched jaw, goggle-distorted wide eyes staring straight ahead from a too-pale face, Cassie’s hands were fused to the handlebars with a death grip. Turning back to Tug, he shouted, “Got it.”

  Tug hung there beside him, intruding on his space in a way that wouldn’t be healthy for anyone else. He yelled, “Hoss, man. Let me next to her. She’s used to me.” Turning slightly on his seat, Hoss gave Tug his full attention. What the fuck? “Hoss, let me in. She’s going to freak.”

  He held Tug’s gaze for a moment and then fell back, trusting the men behind him to give way, and they did, changing positions smoothly. A good effect of riding together for so long. Tug swooped into the lane beside her, crowding her a little to get her attention and damned if when she looked over and recognized him if she didn’t give that old man the brightest smile. Hoss’ chest clenched and he tried to ignore a heavy wave of jealousy that she’d handed the expression to Tugboat instead of him.

  Tug shouted something at her, and she nodded in response, gifting him with a second smile. Hoss could see some of the tension falling away from her, intently watched the transformation as an easy confidence slipped into its place.

  Tug rocked his throttle a little, and she fucking laughed, responding in kind, surging ahead of him by a foot. Then, when glancing back at him, she caught sight of the rest of the bikes. The moment she did the front wheel of her bike wobbled and Hoss could see her start to lock up again, the smile she was giving Tug fading as fast as a gray winter sunset. Fuck. Hoss dropped a hand beside his leg and patted the air, easing the rest of the column back, giving Tug and Cassie space.

  The old man got her attention again and yelled, anger clear in his tone. All Hoss caught was “head out of your ass,” but it was enough to make Cassie sit up taller on her bike, which made him grin. Yeah, she was somehow acquainted with Tugboat, and that was a story he would be hearing sooner rather than later. Chin down now, no longer fooling around, she stared ahead, holding her throttle even, keeping her place just behind Tug.

  They rolled out of town that way, in two staggered lines, nearly a hundred motorcycles growling their way down the highway. Each rider used their skills to remain in place, so as to not have the hated inchworm effect come into play where the lines stretched out and then contracted again. And Hoss rolled directly behind Tug, where he could keep an eye on Cassie, as she rode between them in her section of the lane.

  A dozen miles along, Hoss knew the road would soon narrow to two lanes so he motioned with one hand, calling half the ranks up to pass Tug and Cassie, and let them fall into place ahead. Deke lead the charge, his Road Captain title meaning he should have been at the head the whole time, and Hoss knew he would hear about that from the man. This, along with the fact that he had derailed their original run plans, which had been to hit up two clubhouses in Ohio. Deke would now be mentally recalculating mileage and gas, and not knowing the skill level of the addition to their line, and a woman at that, he would likely be planning pit stops, too.

  Hoss pulled out and passed Tug, then slipped back into line ahead of him, rolling off his throttle gradually. Creating an expanding space ahead of them, he motioned the rest of the ranks up, grinning as PBJ pulled up beside him, calling loudly, “Play, Prez?”

  “Y’all roll. Me and Tug are good,” he shouted with a hand signal to move on ahead, effectively releasing the group from staying with them. He could see his idea didn’t sit well with PBJ and wasn’t surprised by the head shake when it came. “We’re good,” Hoss called again, waving the man forward.

  “Ain’t how this shit works,” was all he got and then PBJ had pulled back out, decelerating and falling in behind him and Tug and Cassie.

  Staying just ahead of her, he watched her in his mirrors and still couldn’t keep from turning occasionally, just to watch her ride. From the grin on her face most of the time, she was hooked on the wind, and that was a glorious thing to see. She held her line like a champ, even on the few sweeping curves on the road, staying in the section of the lane she had camped out in, making it her own. After about an hour and a half, he caught sight of her rolling her shoulders and knew she was probably running out of oomph. In the next long passing zone, Hoss opened his throttle and clawed his way up the line until he got Deke’s attention in his mirrors. Motioning gas and food, he waited for an acknowledgment before he uncurled that acceleration and dropped back in beside her.

  Twenty minutes later, he saw the signals begin and looked over to make sure she was paying attention. Sitting straight up on her seat, it was clear she was, but he could see the ease and comfort falling away again, watched as fear and nerves settled back into place on her face. Fuck. Gliding close to her in the lane, he got her attention and pointed to his gas tank. She flicked her eyes to her gauges, then back to him with a nod. He put his fingers to his mouth, pretending to eat something and his breath caught in his chest when she grinned at him, nodding big. He made an okay sign with his fingers as he slipped back to his side of the lane, listening to the changes in the bike exhausts in front of him.

  Thinking she might prefer Tug beside her, he slacked off the throttle, but then saw she had matched him, more concern etched on her face. Fuck, she’s afraid of screwing up. Making an ease-down gesture with the flat of his hand, he saw her nod and fall back. Smart and brave, just like he had known she must be.

  Rolling slowly into a gas station Deke had found for them, he got in line behind two bikes, watching as she pulled to the front of the store, backing into a parking space before killing her ride and getting off. Then he had the privilege to watch as Cassie hit the lot at a run, arrowing directly at Tug. The old man had barely gotten off his bike before she got to him, knocking him back on a foot and wrapping her arms around him in a hold so tight it made Hoss’ throat close up. Fuck. She trusted the old man in a way that she wasn’t afraid to share with him.

  Hand to the back of the woman’s helmet, Tug held her head to his shoulder, pride shining from his face. He pulled back and asked her something, and from her head motions, the response was a resounding yes. Tug tipped his head back and let loose, laughing open-mouthed for a long time. She stepped back and punched him in the shoulder, then crowded in close when he pretended it hurt, and then punched him again once she realized he was joking. After another brief exchange and hug, she turned and walked towards her bike, reaching up to remove her helmet.

  “Cassie,” Hoss called and frowned as she froze up, the stutter in her step causing a stumble. She recovered, turning in a slow circle to see who had called her. He lifted a hand and waved, captured her attention and kept his hand up determinedly until he received a wave in return. Gaze locked to hers, he watched her closely for signs of the same panic he had seen at her house, but she just gave him a small smile and turned away.

  Deke stalked close, and Hoss eyeballed him, trying to gauge what level of angry he’d be facing, which surprisingly didn’t seem bad. “Diner about two minutes up the road, friendly.” Deke pointed and Hoss nodded. They would be eating lunch there, especially as it was a biker-friendly place nearby. The club found it prudent to patronize those places, give them good money to keep them friendly, make sure brothers from all over had a welcoming place to plant their asses when they rode in tired and hungry from a long run.

  He gassed up, keeping an eye towards Cassie, watching as Tug walked her through the protocol of using pumps when a bunch of bikes needed the same resource. Deke stopped and spoke to the old man, ignoring the woman as he would any who rode with them but weren’t claimed. Tug nodded and spoke to Cassie, who glanced up at Deke. With her hands occupied filling her tank, she nodded and smiled, but Hoss didn’t miss the tension that strained the muscles in her arms. Also didn’t miss the fact that even looking up, she didn’t take that gaze to Deke’s face. Quirks, he remembered and nodded to himself.

  Moving off the pump, he staged near the back of the column, waiting for Tug to roll
up beside him. With one look the old man knew he had questions because Tug shook his head. “Not now, Prez. Let’s get my girl fed, and make this good for her. We can have a talk later, and you can explain to me how you know her.”

  The term “my girl” gave Hoss an unwelcome sway that rattled all through his chest, and he wondered for one ugly minute at his response to Tug’s possessiveness. Then the rest of what Tug said made his head jerk back. Tug wants to grill me about my association with Cassie? “The fuck you say, Tugboat? How the hell do you know her?”

  “Long story,” was all he got, and then she had ridden up on the other side of Tug. Leaving the gas station carefully in groups of twos and fours, the columns got on the road again, only to pull into the diner’s lot almost immediately. Cassie followed Tug and Hoss followed Cassie, sandwiching her between them as they parked.

  Putting down his kickstand, he swung a leg over and stood, stretching. Hoss yanked off his beanie and shoved his sunglasses to the top of his head. Silently, he looked down at Cassie as she prepared to go inside, fussing with her jacket and gloves, eyes down as she stored things for easy access. Busy work, so she didn’t have to look up and wouldn’t have to meet anyone’s gaze.

  Tug leaned in and removed her keys from the ignition. He turned to look up at Hoss, then with a grin, tossed the ring to Hoss who caught them in midair and slipped them into his front pocket. Deep. Cassie’s muffled shout of surprise died in her throat when she looked up at him, and he finally saw in her eyes the recognition he didn’t even know he had been wanting. Fuck. She’d ridden with them, only thinking she knew Tugboat out of more than eighty-five men. Jesus. Rough men, one-percenters all. Brave.

  “Mr. Rogers,” she said softly, and then she gave something else he didn’t even know he wanted. A smile so sweet and soft that it nearly took his legs from underneath him. A man would do a lot to be worthy of those, he thought, and he nodded at her, unable for a moment to speak.

  “Cassie,” he finally gritted out and if anything that smile became more. Brighter, sunnier. More.

  “You remember me,” she cried with soft joy, and that took his legs, too, right before it carried his cock to half-mast. Fuck, he wanted to hear her call out for other reasons now, dark and carnal, taking what he gave her and giving back to him.

  “Of course I do, gorgeous.” His voice was lower than he intended, coming out as more of a growl than anything and her eyes widened in surprise. “Told you, gal, my friends call me Hoss.” He felt a presence at his back and knew it was Tug. Hoss was finally able to ask the question that had been battering at him for thirty miles. “How do you know this old reprobate?” He threw an elbow back and caught Tug just under the diaphragm with a hard blow, pulling a loud oof out of him.

  “Tug taught me to ride,” she responded, like that answer made any sense at all.

  “But how did you meet him?” Hoss pushed, seriously wondering what was going on.

  “Well, I bought a bike,” she started, then ducked her chin, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “But I didn’t know how to ride.”

  “I did the same thing.” An amused shout came from behind them, and Hoss twisted to see Captain standing there. “I dropped twenty large on a bike and didn’t know the first thing about them. Just knew I wanted to ride.”

  “Yeah,” she said, “same thing here. Except the price. That much money? That’s crazy.” She laughed softly. “Tug was the one who delivered it, and he made an offer that if I needed anything, I could call. It was a couple weeks later, but I did. And he made good on his promise.” She grinned up at Tug. “Patient is a word I’ve never seen demonstrated before, but I learned the meaning well while watching him deal with me over these past weeks.”

  “Weeks?” Captain scoffed. “That’s weak, sister. I learned in three days.” He held up a hand, pointing three fingers at Cassie. “Three days, that’s all it took me.” He gave a fist pump. “Bam. Toasted you. And, I’ve had a ton of concussions.” He pointed those same three fingers at his temple. “Can’t learn anything anymore.” He turned to Hoss, a quizzical look on his face, “Who’re you again?” He grinned. “Plus it was the way to my woman’s heart. Biker chick through and through. Couldn’t woo the woo without the ride, ya know?”

  Everyone laughed, as was Captain’s intent. With the attention pulled off her, Cassie stood up and off the bike, stepping closer to Tug, which coincidently put her near Hoss, too. As the men began drifting towards the diner, she leaned over and asked, voice quiet with uncertainty, “Can I sit with you?”

  “Sure thing, pretty lady,” Tug said, reaching out and taking her hand in his as Hoss held his breath. He remembered that touch was a trigger for her, but apparently not around Tug, because she folded her fingers around his, holding on tightly as she let him pull her towards the diner.

  Just inside the door, Deke stopped Hoss, hand to his chest and they watched Tug walk away, taking Cassie to a booth where he slid in first, letting her take the outside seat. Hoss cut his eyes to Deke, ready for what he thought was coming. He was surprised when instead he got, “PBJ said you might want to split off. I can still take folks to the CHs like we planned. This wasn’t a far detour, Prez.”

  Not trusting it, he nodded slowly, waiting. Deke gave him a chin lift, then said, “Can’t let you just wing it with Tug. I’ll leave you Tequila and Mojo. Cool?” Hoss nodded again, eyeballing Deke still, which earned him a brusque, “What? I like Cassie. Been picking Tug up at her house. He’s told me about her.”

  With a scowl, Hoss said, “Seems everybody except me knew he was teaching her to ride.”

  There wasn’t a question in there, but he got a response anyway. “Didn’t know you knew her, boss. We all saw how you were today, though, so I think every man Jack of us sees it now. We weren’t tryin’ to hide shit, brother.”

  Saw how I was with her today? Hoss frowned and waved off Deke’s words. “Tequila and Mojo seems a bit much. Just give me a prospect.”

  “Fuck that noise,” Deke scoffed. “Prez ain’t riding with his woman without a corps of color at his back. Three is hardly a show of force, but I figure it’s all you’ll give on.”

  “Ain’t my woman,” Hoss said softly. His gaze cut to where Cassie sat next to Tug, her posture stiff and tense, hands on either side of a tall menu with a hundred choices. Fuck. Too much. That’ll be tough for her. He took a step in that direction.

  “You’re a fool, then. Didn’t take you for one, not knowing in your gut what it’s like to have that.” Deke’s words snagged his full attention, and he twisted on a heel to stare at him, confused.

  “The fuck you mean by that?” Hoss scowled, lines etched in his face from sorrow and the elements settled deeper, and he had to work to keep his shoulders down as anger began to build inside him.

  “Saw you with Hope, brother.” That hit Hoss like a punch in the chest, the open reference to Hope so unlike Deke it went beyond unexpected. His patch brother had always been careful around the topic, tied tightly to his own old lady, Hope’s sister. “Always loved how you were together. She was family to my woman,” Deke’s words continued low and slow, each one soft with care. “Brother, I know you remember what that’s like.” He paused, and Hoss waited, unsure how to respond. Then Deke hit him again. “What I saw today, I know you see the possibility again.” Deke paused a moment and glanced away from Hoss and across the room at Cassie. “Least I fancy you see it. Want that for you, brother. My whole heart wants you to have that again. Have it good, and sweet. Woman who’s pleased you remember her, who’s easy with your friends. Woman who wanted to be remembered but didn’t expect anything. Sweet worth working for when it smiles at you like that.” Hoss turned to stare at her again, surprised that Deke’s continued sharing was changing his pain, smoothing it away from the surface. Something about having a man he trusted like Deke recognize this ethereal thing between Hoss and Cassie gave it weight it didn’t have before. Hoss stared at Cassie while Deke finished, his voice rough. “Want that for you so fucking bad,
brother. Do anything to give it to you.”

  “Yeah, well, she ain’t my woman,” he said again, just as soft as before. He paused, then with a hard swallow, took a leap he hadn’t ever expected to make again in his life. Not after his Hope died. “Might could be, though. You got that in one.” Her eyes were jittering across the menu and he took another step in her direction. “I want that for me, too, brother. Want to be inside that kind of sweet again in my world. Thanks, man.” Deke clapped a hand to his shoulder and gave him a shove as he turned to sit at a different table.

  Hoss walked to the booth and sat down, reflexively reaching out to touch Cassie’s hand but pulled back before making contact. He gave Tug a chin lift and then tipped his head towards her, pulling the man’s attention to her tension. “Cassie,” he called, watching as her eyes flicked up from the menu, rising only to his throat then stopping on his chin. He smiled, and her gaze darted higher, resting on his lips now. “You got any allergies?”

  Her head shook side to side, but her gaze didn’t leave his mouth.

  “You a vegan or some shit like that?”

  That earned him a snort along with a tiny grin, there and gone in a moment. And even though it faded fast, when she shook her head with a lilt in her voice, she said, “Nope.”

  “Lemme order for you, yeah?”

  Her gaze flew up, locking with his. He saw the moment she realized he had recognized how tough this was for her. Her lips trembled, and with a tortured whisper she told him, “There’s just so much.”

  “I know, gorgeous. Too many choices. Let me make it easy for you.”

  He didn’t realize his voice had lowered, softening, until she matched his tone with her quietly spoken, “Okay.”

  “Bacon cheeseburger, no onion, throw some fries on the side?” When her mouth started curving up in a grin, he didn’t wait for her nod, knowing he had gotten it right. “Ketchup…no. Hold on, that doesn’t suit you. Mayo. Yeah, you’re a mayo gal.”