Holy fuck… did he ever love me?
That was the truth that would destroy me. Whoever this man was, if he had lied to me about that, I would be over. Done for. There would never be another man I would trust or open up to. There would never be another man I would ever give myself over to. If this man had come into my life, manipulated me, and faked his love for me… it would end me.
He might as well stick a fucking fork in my ass… because I’d be done.
I built up thick walls around my heart as I hit the open stretch of road. Jace-- or Snake-- had lived on the side of a fairly deserted road. A highway that connected one town to the next. It was lined with red clay mountains, cacti, and dry land. Dust storms were imminent in this area and could choke the life out of anyone who attempted to settle there.
And yet, their family had.
When I saw his bike sitting in the driveway, all emotional baggage went under lock-and-key. One thing I always prided myself on was my ability to emotionally lock myself away. This was one of those times where I needed to be in control of myself. This was one of those moments where I needed to be completely guarded. The man I had just given myself to twice was not who I thought he was all of these years, and I was determined to get all of my fucking answers.
Whether he talked with me or whether I tased them out of him.
I knew better than to think I could take on Jace. Or Snake. Or whatever his fucking name was. He had me by at least ten inches and eighty fucking pounds. He was a big man with a big temper and a voice that could fill a room even when he whispered. It was one of the things I fell in love with. How even in my size, he cradled me like a thin little twig.
But now his size was something I was painfully aware of now that he was frisking me down.
He was making a game of it. He saw my walls, and he saw how guarded I was, and he was trying to get me to crack. Just as I was using my emotional connection to him, he was trying to use his sexual connection to me. But it wasn’t gonna work. His bullshit wasn’t gonna fly. I came here with one goal, and that goal was to put all these fucking pieces in place. I braced myself for the fact that he might interrogate me back. For the fact that he might ask ‘answers for answers.’ And I was ready to lie straight to his fucking face.
Just like he had to me all those years ago, and just like he fucking was now.
As his hands meandered along my body, disarming me at every turn, that was when I realized this was real. He knew where I kept my weapons by simply looking at me, and there were only two kinds of people who could do that.
Cops… and criminals.
Jace was part of a motorcycle gang. Jace was part of the fucking Road Rebels.
It made my stomach turn. Every time his hands caressed my body with that damn smirk on his face, I wanted to vomit. He thought this was a game. He thought he could be cute about it. But I was ready to slug him. I was ready to rip his fucking throat out. If he thought he could pull the wool over my damn eyes and make me forget about it, then he didn’t fucking know me at all. I was going to make this man’s life a living nightmare. I was going to make sure that when he closed his eyes at night, he didn’t see my body.
He only saw the handcuffs I was gonna slap on his fucking wrists as he ran for his life.
I had fallen for a criminal. Straight up. The Road Rebels were doing something to keep the DEA interested, and I was going to figure out what it was. If it kept them interested, then it wasn’t fucking good. If it kept the DEA on their trail, then it was only a matter of time before my connection to Jace-- or Snake-- was found out. Then, my police department would use it to exploit me or paint me as a sympathizer depending on how far I was willing to go with my connection.
Unless I could get out in front of the shitstorm, Jace had painted for me.
I was in full interrogation mode. I had my emotions shut down, I had my emotional disposition under control, and I had my face blank. I was hiding behind a wall I refused to come out behind, and there was nothing Jace could do to coax me out of it.
Not until I got some fucking answers.
“Are you wired?” Jace asked.
“Fuck no,” I said.
“Then you won’t mind if I check.”
He was playing more games, and as his hands slid up my body, I cursed myself for caving. My eye twitched, and my pussy was growing warm. Holy hell, this man had the hands of Jace. His eyes were Jace’s. His mouth was Jace’s. His breath was Jace’s, and his cologne was Jace’s. But he wasn’t Jace.
He was Snake.
“Enough of the games,” I said as I shoved him away. “Is that why they call you ‘Snake’?”
“Is that the question you want to start with?” Jace asked.
“No,” she said. “But this one is. Why the fuck is your picture posted at the police department under the name ‘Snake’?”
“Do you think I’m going to hurt you?” he asked.
Yes, I did. He was a criminal. An outlaw. If the chatter was right-- which was all I fucking had to go on right now-- he ran drugs. He was one tick shy of being just as disgusting as The Devil Saints themselves. It was insane how this group thought they were better than their counterparts when they were all the fucking same. Outlaws who thought they could exist above and beyond the law.
I felt my strength slipping. For a while, I didn't say anything, and neither did Jace. He was looming over me, putting me on my guard. I clenched my fists and hunched myself over, proving to him that I was prepared for a fight. I was prepared to take him if he got angry or out of control. I wasn’t a stranger to his anger. I wasn’t a stranger to his outbursts. He had only geared it towards me one time, but one time was all it took for me to learn.
“You don’t get to be cryptic, and you don’t get to ask me questions. For months, I tried to get the truth out of you. For months, I tried to figure out what the fuck was going on. My obsession with you and what you were doing bordered on clinical, and now you’re going to give me the one thing I’ve been asking you for,” I said.
“Answers,” Jace said.
“You’re damn fucking straight.”
“I actually think your prior question’s a good one to start with,” he said.
“I’m not playing games with you anymore, Jace.”
“And neither am I. Now, are you ready for your answers or not?” he asked.
I unclenched my fists and rose my body back up into a relaxed position. Was this asshole serious? Was he just going to roll over and give me answers? I took a step towards him and saw his eyes rake down my body, and for a moment I could see a twinge of the Jace I knew. The soft, kind, understanding Jace that had the tendency to appear at the oddest moments.
And if there were ever an odd and awkward moment, it would be this.
His features were softening up as the darkness slid from behind his eyes. Now, he didn’t seem as tall nor did he seem as angry. His twisted sense of humor had drained from his face, and in its place was a man struggling between two parts of himself. The part that wanted to come clean and the part that wanted to keep up his ruse. It was like watching lightness and darkness flash within the eyes of one person.
Whatever plan Jace had prior to my arrival, I could see it slowly slipping from his mind.
I took a few deep breaths to get my anger under control before I took another step towards him. I wanted to reach out to him. To root him to the ground as a battle raged within him. Silence filled his home as he started to pace, his hands twitching as he drew in deep breaths.
“Jace?” I asked.
His movements completely ceased and his shot his eyes up to mine. His beautiful brown eyes with the hunter green specks dove into my depths, banging on the walls of my soul. I watched him take a step towards me, his body fully centered and rooted to the ground.
It was as if my voice had given him the stability he needed.
I could feel myself crumbling underneath his gaze. The walls I had built up were slowly coming down, brick by brick. I could feel my knees
growing weak. This man couldn’t be Snake. This man couldn’t be an outlaw. He had my heart and my soul. He penetrated my mind and was slowly chiseling away at my walls. I was weak to him. My heart beat for him. My mind reached out for him, and my heart fluttered for him in my chest.
This man couldn’t be part of a gang. I could never love someone like that.
Could I?
He stood in front of me, looming over me as my chest heaved. His eyes looked straight down into mine as I craned my neck back up to see him.
I couldn’t take it any longer.
“Why do they call you ‘Snake’?” I asked softly.
Chapter 23
Snake
She knew so much more than I wanted her to know. My name with the club. The fact that I was associated with them in the first fucking place. I continued to stare her down. Trying to see if I could get her to back off at least a little bit.
The less I told her, the better off she would be. The safer she would be and the more distance I could put between The Road Rebels and the authorities. This brought them way too close. Laiken being a cop was bringing this entire thing way too fucking close to home. She could use me as an asset. Track me down and try to get me underneath her thumb. I wasn’t gonna allow her to do that to me.
I wasn’t going to allow the woman I loved to control me like that.
I saw her weakening to me. I saw the way her stone walls slowly crumbled. She came in guarded, but now that she was here and relieved of her weapons, she was caving. Her eyes were softening, and her posture was relaxing. Whatever effect it was I was having on her, it was working.
But her stare was rattling my walls as well, and I knew I was walking in dangerous territory.
This was my chance. This was the opportunity I needed. I could exploit her and get the information I needed to take back to Mac. This could be where the fight turned around for us if I played my cards right. And not only that, but it was my chance to toss her across the fucking ocean and never see her again. I could hold her at arm’s length, use her for information, and then cast her out.
Then, she would be gone. Away from me and safe. If there was ever a time to push her aside for good, this was fucking it.
What the hell was I supposed to do? Just break down and tell her every little fucking detail? A lot had happened while we were dating, and more shit happened when she left. It would be too much to take in during one little sitting, and every time she went into work I risked her being turned against me by her captain. I couldn’t expect a fucking law enforcement officer to sympathize with the likes of me. They weren’t capable of that kind of emotional shit.
Laiken especially.
I could keep lying to her. I could lie her right out the fucking door and block her number. I could sell off my parents’ house and set up shop somewhere else. I had other ways I could push her away without ever opening this can of bullshit worms. What would she do if she knew the truth? About my name? About how I got wrapped up in the Rebels? About how I’d lied to her all those nights because I was packing drugs and selling shit on the streets to prove I was worthy to be part of their family?
How could I tell her any of this and her still look at me like she was now?
“Why do they call you ‘Snake’?” Laiken asked softly.
Her voice was like velvet. Velvet wrapped in silk and drenched in caramel. She was desperate. I could hear it. The only other time her voice had become so weakened and so downtrodden was just before the last fight we had. It was her equivalent of begging. Of trying to get me to see things her way. And the last time I heard that voice, I said so many disgusting things that lost me her in the end.
My anger cost me Laiken, and I knew I had no other choice but to talk with her.
I watched as Laiken’s hand reached out for my chest. She put her hand on my heart as her eyes danced in between mine. I felt my breathing increase as her warmth penetrated my tough outer exterior, reaching down into my icy heart and somehow finding the ability to warm it. Her hazel eyes sucked me in, her soul crying out to me from beneath their depths.
She really wasn’t here as a cop. She was here as a desperate woman who craved nothing but answers.
“I know I’m in my uniform,” she began, “but I’m not here as a cop. I’m here as someone who, despite my best efforts, still loves you, Jace.”
Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt time stop all around us as I closed the gap between us. Her body was flush with mine, and her hand was still pressed against my chest. My hand wrapped around hers, bringing it to my lips so I could kiss the pads of her fingers. She smelled like stale coffee and tasted like sunshine. Tears were rising in her eyes, and I cursed myself for the pain I’d already brought into her life. Laiken was a strong woman, and in the span of two or three days, I’d managed to bring tears to her eyes twice.
It was time for me to be the man I already preached I was, even if it meant going on the run to protect the club I called family.
Holy fuck, I hoped I could trust Laiken.
“They call me ‘Snake’ because I’m able to wiggle myself out of tight spots,” I said.
“I don’t know what that means,” she said.
I sighed as I led her to the couch, urging her to sit down next to me.
“My first run-in with The Road Rebels was just after my father tried to attack my sister. It was a bad day, and I don’t really want to go into details, but for whatever the reason I ended up fending off the cops so they wouldn’t arrest him.”
“Why the hell wouldn’t you let cops arrest a man like that?” Laiken asked.
“Because he didn’t quite drink away all of his disability checks. And we depended on the little he did hold back to pay the water and electric bills. I told a guy I was growing close to in the club about it, and he called me a ‘little snake.’ It stuck as I went through initiation.”
“When did you go through that?” she asked.
I looked her square in her eyes as the pieces slowly began to drop.
“That’s why you were sneaking out at night,” she said. “And the weekends where you were gone?”
“Bike rallies and shit. Being a prospect with The Road Rebels takes about a year, and in that year you have to not just prove yourself, but show support. Which means riding with the club to all the rallies and wearing the club’s prospect patch.”
“How is all of this tied into The Devil Saints?” she asked.
“How do you know about them?”
“For fuck’s sake, the DEA’s all over them, Jace. Your pictures are tacked up in the police department alongside theirs. What did you guys do?”
“You do realize you’re giving me inside information into how the police are running their investigation, right?” I asked.
“You do realize you’re giving me inside information I begged you for months before we broke up, right?”
I reached for her hand, and she allowed me to take it.
“A few months after you left, there was a massive shootout,” I said. “It… changed us. All of us.”
“I’ve read articles on it,” she said. “You don’t have to recount it if you don’t want to.”
“Then you know why I had to push you away. Why I had to keep lying to you. Laiken, had I introduced you to them-- brought you into that world-- you probably would’ve been there in that shootout. You could’ve been-”
I refused to say it. I refused to utter that fucking word. Too many of us ended up six feet under that day, and I refused to entertain the idea that Laiken could’ve been one of them.
“I’m a strong man, Laiken. But I wasn’t put on this earth to bury women. Especially you. That’s not my job.”
“According to the police, your job is Secretary-slash-Treasurer.”
“What?” I asked.
“Yep. To the police, you’re the Rebels Secretary. Their pencil-skirt, high-heel wearing, pantyhose-donning, big-busted Secretary.”
“I am fucking not,” I said. “I’m the da
mn Treasurer. I work with numbers and shit when I’m not working in the mechanic’s shop fixing cars and bikes.”
“Not according to the police,” she said, grinning.
I swallowed my anger as a small grin played on her cheeks. She was trying to diffuse the tension between us. She was trying to make the best of the situation. That was how I knew Laiken was getting overwhelmed. She was that person who would giggle at a funeral because she wouldn’t be able to deal with the overwhelming feelings of sadness and desertion.
“The only way for you to be safe was to be away from me, Laiken. That’s why I lied. That’s why I never told you. It’s why I never planned on telling you,” I said.
“You pushed me away to protect me,” she said.
“Yes. I did. And I was an ass. An unforgivable, abusive ass in the end. But you ran, and that was the point. You fucking ran to a different state, and when I couldn’t find you after regretting our fight, it killed me inside. But my solace was that I knew you were safe. I slept every night with you smiling in my mind, knowing that wherever you were, you were free from all this shit.”
“You… you dreamed about me?” she asked.
Those tears were back in her eyes, only this time one slipped out. I reached out and plucked it from her cheek, wiping the wetness away from her beautiful skin.
“Please don’t cry. I fucking hate it when you cry,” I said.
“Answer the question. Did you dream about me?” Laiken asked.
“Every night,” I said. “Every horrible, lonely night.”
Laiken scooted closer to me on the couch. Her hands gripped mine, clinging to them as her eyes held my stare. Another tear leaked down her face, and I wanted to wipe it away, but she held my hands firmly in her lap.
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