Law_Rebel Guardians MC

by Liberty Parker

  I can’t think of anything I’ve done illegally, so I nod at his question. I just hope I’m not fucking myself with this one.

  “I was told to deliver this to you. It’s from your sister.” Only Cecilia knows where I’m at and I hope this isn’t a ploy from Mr. Douche to threaten me.

  “How do I know it’s from her?”

  “She said you might balk. So she said to tell you that when you were eight, you broke your right arm when one of the other children in the group home pushed you down the stairs.” Yep, it’s from my Cissy.

  I hold out my hand and say, “Thank you. Can I ask...is...is everything okay with her and my niece?”

  “I don’t have that information, ma’am, this delivery is as far as I’m willing to get involved. Have a nice day,” he says, turning around and walking out of the door. I tuck the envelope in the front of my smock. I refuse to open it here where I may possibly break down into hysterics. After refilling the coffee at my tables, I run to the back where our lockers are, open mine up and kiss the envelope before putting it away in my purse. I know the damn thing is going to be calling me all day, but I refuse to open it up here.

  Law

  I saw the man in the suit come in and after a brief discussion, he handed her an envelope and left. I wonder what it is, but realize that she doesn’t know me well enough to trust me yet, so she most likely won’t tell me anything. Going back to my laptop, I scroll the secured site for attorneys checking to make sure that there are no new reports concerning Emma or her mother. Grateful when I see nothing there, I shoot a quick email to Axe just to touch base. I miss the camaraderie of my brothers, but I know I need this time to decompress and get my head on straight. I’m leaning more and more toward getting out of public practice, especially since I’m set financially, and the club pays me well whenever I have something to do for them. But I’m bone-deep tired of the way the system has let me down. It’s a system I trusted and gave my all to, but it’s become political and not about rendering justice. It’s sad to say this, or think it, but it's the damn truth of the matter. Too many times, people who should never see the light of day get out, either because money talked or because of a fucking technicality that got lost somewhere. Even an investigation gone wrong or evidence being mishandled. I’m not sure it wasn’t on purpose on some of the cases which frustrates me even more. Hell, one of the cases one of my friends tried involving a murder ended up getting tossed because the suspect wasn’t Mirandized properly. How in the hell that kind of shit happens is beyond me, but I’m tired of seeing it over and over. Meanwhile, innocents like little Emma end up getting tossed around like waves on an ocean. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I look up to see Cassarah approaching me. “More coffee?” she asks, a smile gracing her pretty face and I smile back.

  “Absolutely, buttercup. Have you ever ridden before?” The look she gives me is adorable and I chuckle before continuing, “On a motorcycle.”

  “Um, no, no I haven’t. Why?”

  “Weather’s supposed to be good on Saturday so was going to suggest we take the bike to the carnival.”

  I can see her thinking about it before she says, “But what if I find something from one of the vendors I want to buy?”

  “Good point. We’ll take the truck,” I reply.

  “But I’d really like to go for a ride someday.” Well, fuck me. Ava never liked to ride so I’ve never had a woman on the back of my bike before. Yet all of a sudden, I can’t wait to have this woman’s arms wrapped around me as I show her the freedom that can be found on the open road.

  “Then we’ll do that on our second date.”

  She arches her brow at me before replying, “Second date? We haven’t even gone out on our first.”

  “Well, technically, we kinda have since I’m here every day.”

  “That’s breakfast, Law, not a date,” she giggles, and that sound does something to me, my insides are fluttering like a goddamn teenager having his first crush.

  “I have a date with you for breakfast every single day, buttercup.”

  “Once again, that’s not considered a date where I come from.”

  “Do we see each other?” I ask her.

  “Well, yeah,” she slowly replies.

  “So, I have a daily date with you?”

  “I think we’re arguing semantics here, Law,” she finally states, a grin brightening her pretty face.

  “Well...I am a lawyer and we’re known for our debating skills,” I tell her, sipping my coffee.

  “You’re a lawyer? Sounds like I’ll never win an argument with you.”

  “Oh, I’m sure there are a few I’d let you win.” Like if she wants to be on top, on bottom or against a wall. Yep, I’d let her win those for sure.

  “Can’t wait to try my case with you.” And suddenly, I can’t wait for a debate to take place. Maybe I’ll be able to find out more about her. Someone else calls her over to their table, so she places her hand on my shoulder and squeezes, it’s as if lightning bolts have traveled up my arm at the small contact. What the fuck was that? I’ve never felt anything of the sort in my entire existence, and I can’t wait to see if that electricity follows us to the bed. It’s a current I definitely want to feel in my dick while buried deep inside of her delectable body. I may be getting ahead of myself here, but it’s gonna happen, and often, while I’m here. And if it’s as good as I suspect it’s gonna be, I’m going to do my best to argue my case for her to relocate to Corinth. Because that type of feeling, like I just felt, is once in a lifetime, she may end up being my one. The one I’ve been waiting and longing for, my entire adult life. I need that in my life, it’s the one piece that’s missing within me, and I will be damned if I find it and let it slip through my fingers.

  Realizing that the lunch rush is starting to come in and feeling guilty for taking up space, I pack up my things and pay my bill. Cassarah is busy helping get some of the patrons seated and filling drink orders, so I let her be and decide I’ll send her a text later on. Right now, the trails behind my cabin are calling my name.

  Cassarah

  I pick up my phone on my break and notice that Law has texted me. I’m giddy with excitement, it’s been a long time since someone has interested me the way he does.

  Law: You were slammed and the diner was filling up. I left so that there would be room for others to sit. I’ll see you in the morning. Have a great day, buttercup.

  Me: I was wondering where you snuck off to. Can’t wait for our next breakfast date.

  There, that wasn’t bad. I don’t sound desperate or as if I am counting down the minutes until I see him next. Even though I am, tonight I have no clients coming in so it’s going to be a book and bubble bath. Saturday can’t come fast enough, I want to see if what we have in the diner carries on while I have no way to escape him. It will be him and me, alone without any distractions. I wonder if he’ll like me once I show him who I really am? I come across as shy and standoffish, when I couldn’t be anything further from that. I just have to get to know someone before I’m comfortable enough with them to show my true personality.

  The day winds down, the lunch rush, and Law had me forgetting, only temporarily, about the package awaiting me to end my day. When I grab my purse, it sticks out at me like a sore thumb. I push it further into my purse and grab my windbreaker and leave the diner after saying my goodbyes. I am glad I have a bottle of wine chilled and waiting for me in the fridge. I have a feeling I’m going to bury myself in the bottle once I’ve read what’s inside. She wouldn’t contact me unless she was warning me or telling me about an incident that will drive me to drinking. The drive home feels long as I keep looking over to my purse, the anxiety is taking root and I need to know what lies inside. Finally, I make it home and rush inside the door. I kick off my shoes and grab the wine, foregoing the glass, I’ll just drink it straight from the bottle itself.

  I grab my purse and pull out the envelope I had tucked inside. I take a deep breath, close my eyes and pra
y that the words in here won’t change my life. I feel safe right now, and I’d hate for the bubble to burst wide open. Like a bandaid, I rip it open and pull out the letter nestled inside.

  Cassie,

  I hope this letter finds you well. I wish I was writing with good news, but I can’t say that this is. He laid his hands on my baby girl. She was in the hospital for treatment and Child Protective

  Services were called in by the doctor. Sterling Brown Jr., the senator, was able to put money in the right hands which had the case dismissed. Emma was given an attorney, one who I thought would be able to make a difference and at least get my baby out of this house. Unfortunately, things didn’t work out in her favor and she’s back home. I’m writing you this letter to inform you, that if he ever lifts a finger in her direction again, I’m fighting him tooth and nail. I’m not a brawler, but if it means me or Emma, I will always choose her safety over mine. She is the number one priority in my life. If I thought I could leave with her and keep us both safe, I would run and hide. But he’ll never let that happen. If anything happens to me, I want you to use what I’m sending in the next package as proof of the abuse he has caused to not only myself and Emma, but in his duties as a senator. He’s got his hands in some pots that if it’s ever discovered he will serve time for. Please don’t use this information unless I ask you to beforehand, or something happens to me and you need to step in and take Emma from him. I’m terribly afraid that if I’m not here to play referee she will not survive.

  Love to you always and forever,

  Cissy

  Just as I suspected I would, I lose the battle and drown myself in wine and tears. I hate Sterling the senator, my motherfucking brother-in-law. I hope and pray that someone, somewhere, someday is able to stop him in all of his corruption and abuse. I’m scared about the package that she has referenced, wondering exactly what kind of things she’s sending. I hate not knowing more people because I truly have no one I can trust. At least not with something like this, anyway. Reading the letter a second time, I shudder at her words, then take it and put it back in the envelope before I lock it in my firebox for safekeeping. Grabbing the bottle of wine, I head into the bathroom and get a hot bath running. That was the caveat for this little duplex I found—the bathtub is phenomenal, it’s a wide, soaking tub, and the room has plenty of frosted windows so it feels light and airy. Once the tub is full, I snag my e-reader from my nightstand before getting undressed and then I climb into the tub. Calgon, please please take me away.

  I pull up my latest novel and get lost in the world of angst and romance.

  Chapter Three

  Law

  Waking up, I grin, knowing that later today, I’m going to be with the woman I have become convinced will be mine forever. Since she has some hair clients, I send her a text.

  Me: Good morning, buttercup, hope your morning flies by. Looking forward to seeing you later.

  It’s barely a minute later when my phone pings and I grin at what I see.

  Cassarah: I’m looking forward to it too. Do you want me to text once I’m done? I had a few extras come along, so my eight has turned into twelve.

  Me: How about I bring over breakfast and hang with you while you cut hair?

  Cassarah: That sounds good to me, Law. Thank you.

  Four hours later, we’re walking out the door, hand in hand and both of us anxious to spend the day with each other. I’m impressed as hell at her skills, she already had four of the men done by the time I got there, and was joking around with the others who were patiently waiting their turn. Several had brought their girlfriends or wives, so her little duplex was overflowing with people, and I was not surprised that the women made appointments with her for the following week. This has an idea forming in my head, if things go the way I want them to, and I get her to come home with me, the brothers and I could help make her dreams come true. I make a mental note to talk to Axe. “You excited?” I ask as I help her into the truck.

  “Oh hell yes, I can’t remember the last time I had a weekend off and I haven’t been to one of these in years!” she states as I start the truck up and pull out of her driveway. Her enthusiasm is contagious, and I soon find myself telling her about my brothers and the club, along with their women and all the kids that have come along.

  “Oh gosh, I’ve been reading a romance book about an MC club. This is so exciting that I’m actually meeting someone who is a real-life member!” I laugh at her.

  “I bet the books are more zealous in their activities than what actually happens.”

  “Maybe so, but there’s always a grain of truth in everything, right?”

  “This is true. But, I haven't actually read a book about romance and MC, so I’ll have to take your word for it.”

  Hearing a song on the radio, she looks over and grins. “I love this artist a lot. His songs have all the feels.”

  I listen to some man singing about the woman he’s with being like heaven and when it’s over, I glance at her and say, “A lot of people search their whole lives for that feeling. Ever had it?” Yeah, I’m asking the tough questions, but I want...no, I need to know if there’s anyone I’ll be competing with, even if it’s just a memory.

  “No, I never trusted anyone enough to give them my heart and soul. Maybe someday the right man will cross my path and I’ll be willing to take a shot with him. The way I grew up though, means that you don’t just hand yourself over on a silver platter.”

  “I have recently gotten out of a tragic relationship. She wanted me to be in a social standing that meant I’d have to give up my club and brothers. That’s something that will never happen.”

  “Could you explain the use of the word tragic? Sounds like a romance movie gone wrong.”

  “She wanted me to reinvent myself. Become a social club kind of guy, and that’s not me. I may have a career that would qualify as the high-class type of living, but I’m more of a down to earth, get dirt under your nails kind of man. I like to live life freely and enjoy what time I have here to the fullest.”

  “The woman who falls in love with you should love all of you just like you are and not try to change you,” she replies.

  “I’m not saying that folks don’t change in a relationship, it’s part of maturing. I just don’t think it particularly matters what fork goes to which plate.” At my words, she bursts into laughter, a sound that is quickly becoming one of my favorites. I need to make her laugh more and often.

  “Yeah, that’s not me at all. I know enough not to embarrass the hell out of myself, but I prefer jeans and t-shirts or yoga pants and t-shirts to dresses and heels.”

  “I can picture you in jeans, shirts and heeled boots on the back of my bike.” I watch out of the corner of my eye as her face flushes. Maybe I’m pushing the issue a bit, but I have an innate sense of urgency deep inside and want her to get with the program. Quickly. Of course, my cock twitches and I smirk because he’s obviously down with my thoughts.

  “Hmm...maybe someday.” We pull up to the town’s carnival and she begins bouncing around in her seat and clapping her hands. I love how full of life she is, even though I can tell something has happened to her in her past that should’ve dulled that life inside of her.

  “C’mon, buttercup, let’s go see what they’ve got. Any preferences?” I ask as I help her out of the truck before taking her hand in mine. While I’m trying not to compare, I remember how much Ava hated public displays of affection. I’m glad to see that Cassarah is okay with holding hands.

  “I want to do everything! I want to see the booths, I want to ride the rides and I want to play the rigged games.”

  “What about the cows?” I ask, remembering what her boss said earlier in the week.

  “Well...yeah...of course,” she replies, like that should be obvious.

  “I think I read somewhere that they have a petting zoo. I bet we could even take the time and feed them, what do you think?” She squeals again, and that answers that question.

&nbs
p; We’ve had an absolute blast today. She was so fucking adorable in the petting zoo, and when the keepers said she could help feed the baby goats, I caught her look. In about fifty pictures. Hitting the vendor booths, I watch as she glances at some things but touches others. I’m trying to learn my girl and see what kind of stuff she prefers. When we get on the ferris wheel, she says something that floors me and just about makes my jaw hit the floor.

  “I won’t be your rebound girl, Law. I don’t ever want to be that for someone. I don’t mind being your friend, I don’t mind helping you move forward, I don’t even mind getting some benefits from our friendship. But I won’t become the girl who’s left behind weeping in sorrow trying to mend a broken heart.”

  Well, fuck my life. How on earth do I respond to this one? I’m about to say something when our car stops at the top. Turning to face her, I gently cup her jaw before I lean in and touch my lips to hers. “You’ll never be my rebound girl, buttercup. Never. You hear me?” At her nod, I kiss her again, this time, pulling her close. Her breathy moan gives me the opportunity to tease her lips with my tongue. “Let me in, Cassarah,” I whisper against her lips.

  I’m so lost in our kiss that I don’t hear the catcalls and remarks of “get a room” until she pushes back, her pretty face flushed and eyes sparkling.

  “I...I think the ride’s done,” she states, her voice now husky.

  “Come home with me tonight?” I ask her, begging with my tone that she say yes.

  Her nod is all I need and I grasp her hand and lead her back through and out to where we parked. Before I open the truck and help her in, I press against her so she can feel what she’s done to me. I kiss her once again, growling at the fact that I can’t seem to keep my hands to myself. I grind into her a few times just to show her how she affects me. Once we break away from the kiss, she smiles at me and I am in a rush to get us out of this parking lot and into my bedroom.