Ridin' Nerdy

by Annelise Reynolds

  The bar was a hole in the wall dive called Patch Pit. A line of bikes were outside, but I didn’t see Leah’s among them. She either hadn’t shown up yet, or she already came and went, not sure which one it was.

  I was under no illusion that I wasn’t outnumbered here, and if Ox was here, then I’d be starting off my night with a target on my back.

  The sound of Def Leppard reached me before I even got close to the door. It was what I’d expect to be playing in a biker bar. I don’t exactly see men like Ox, Stone, or Tucker listening to the likes of Justin Bieber. Granted, it would be funny as shit if they were, but I just didn’t see it happening.

  I opened the door, and the smell of cigarettes and stale beer enveloped me. I only took a few steps into the joint, and I felt the stick of my shoes on the concrete floor from old spills not being cleaned up. God, was she really going to take a man home from this dump?

  The den of the room started to settle and quiet as people started to notice me. If you’ve ever had one of those dreams where you are standing naked on stage, this was just like that, only there wasn’t a familiar face in the crowd, nor patch in the pit. This group of bikers were not the Riders in the Wind, but a completely different breed of biker altogether.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Leah

  “You’ve got to fucking be kidding me! Why would you send him there? Why the fuck would you tell him anything?” I yelled into the phone as I turned my car toward the Patch Pit. The name was apt because the place was a damn pit. One of those places you order beer only because you want to drink out of a bottle that’s opened right in front of you rather than a glass that may or may not be clean. Rumor has it, the health inspector is too damn scared to go there so that’s why it hasn’t been shut down yet.

  Since my outfit was not for riding, I was in my car, the old beat up sedan was a piece of shit, but it got the job done. I babied my bike; my car, not so much. The floorboard was littered with trash, and spare clothes. I don’t think I’d actually washed the damn thing in months. Part of me wanted to grab my jeans from the back and put them on, but I was hoping to get him out of there without ever fucking stepping foot in the dive myself.

  I hung up on Dad, furious he had sent a lamb into a den of lions. The men that hung out at the Pit weren’t like the Riders, they were more likely to shoot first and ask questions later. Granted, the Riders aren’t saints, and everybody sure as shit knows not to mess with the club because we defend what is ours, but with the exception of Ox, we didn’t go looking for fights outside the ring – we just kicked ass if they were brought to our doorstep.

  The bar was packed, and I saw Will’s bike immediately. He’d parked at the end of the row, so I pulled my car in beside him. My hands shook as I dialed his number, hoping to hell he wasn’t hurt or in trouble. I knew if I walked in there, I could get him out, but dammit, I avoided this place because I didn’t want to use who I was to get us out of a situation.

  “Dammit, Dad!” I cursed him again. What the fuck kind of game was he playing? This was not something he would normally do, putting someone in harm’s way. He knew Will wasn’t part of this world; what the fuck was he thinking?

  The phone rang but went to voicemail. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit,” I said, getting out of the car. I should have put the damn jeans on, instead, my ass was going in there dressed like a Sweetbutt.

  “Oh, baby, let me take you for a ride.” I saw a guy standing outside, smoking; his eyes raked over me, and I flipped him off. He was massaging his junk as he looked at me, and I wanted to vomit.

  I hurried inside, better to get this over with. Then I was going to go kill my dad. With two fitness buff parents, smoking wasn’t something I ever did or even tried. Not even in my rebel years. I hate the smell, and the way it just clings to you, so walking into the bar that was clouded with smoke pushed that need to vomit way up.

  My eyes were quickly scanning the crowded room for any sign of Will. When I didn’t see him or any commotion, I started to get really worried. A hand settled on my waist and pulled me back. I knew it wasn’t Will, by the rank odor and the beard tickling my shoulder, so immediately, I jabbed my elbow right into his gut. When he bent forward, my knee connected with his nose, and the familiar sound of bone breaking coupled with his blood on my knee and his bellow of rage let me know he was down and I’d drawn some attention.

  I expected Will to be in trouble or, at the very least, in a situation like he was with Ox, but the man surprised me yet again. He righted himself from being bent over a pool table. His eyes were on me, and a fire burned in my core. Lust was written on his face as his eyes ran over my body, taking in the outfit I’d bought for him. Instead of the scene I expected to encounter, he was playing pool with the president of the Twisted Fuckers MC. As I approached the table, I noticed Striker was losing to Will.

  There were two Sweetbutts watching Striker and Will play the game; meaning they were watching the men as they played, not giving a shit about the money on the table. They wanted an old man or to say they bagged the president.

  I looked at the women sitting at the table, giving them a hard look. There weren’t many people in this town in our circles that didn’t know who I was. These Sweetbutts were no exception – they moved away from the table and went in search of another dick to suck. There is no way they’d be getting a hand or lip on Will.

  “Prospect!” Striker shouted, noticing the blood still on my knee.

  A kid that looked barely out of high school came over, ready to do his president’s bidding. “Get the lady a rag to clean up her knee, and let me know whose blood that is on her.”

  “It’s Gimp’s blood. He touched her when she came in, and she took him down.” He looked at me with a grin.

  “Get Gimp in here now, and that rag for her to clean up the blood.” I smirked as the kid pretty much ran to do his tasks. “To what do we owe the honor of your presence, Pebbles?”

  “I came for him.” I nodded at Will, not giving anything away as to what I was thinking.

  “Are the Riders lowering their standards?” He gave Will a mocking once over.

  “More like raising them. There’s more to a club than brawn, Striker, you should know that.” I hitched my chin toward Will. “He’s a brain and working on the brawn at Meatheads.”

  “Why’d they send you?” Striker chalked up his cue and moved to line up another shot.

  Before I could answer, the guy whose nose I just busted came over. He had a towel with ice wrapped up in it on his nose. “Prospect said you wanted to see me.” His hate-filled eyes flicked over toward me, but I just smiled sweetly.

  “Yeah.” Striker stood up and leaned casually against the table. If Gimp knew him at all, he’d know that a casual Striker is deadly. “I heard she broke it. Did you have Doc set it?”

  “Yeah. He set it. Hurt like a son of a bitch.” He cast another evil look my way. I kept my facial expression bored; I knew what was coming.

  Prospect came back with a damp towel and handed it to me before scurrying away. I kinda felt bad for Gimp, but then I figure the asshole put his hands on me and the feeling went away. I wiped off my leg quickly – knowing the towel was going to be needed again. Striker didn’t keep me waiting long.

  With lightning speed and force, his fist connected with the Gimp’s hand that was holding his nose. He cried out, and his eyes rolled back in his head before he sank to the floor. “Flick. Moser. Get this asshole out of here, and make sure he understands when he wakes up why he never touches her. Next time it happens, I’ll break his damn hands.”

  Will schooled his features, quickly covering his shock. I threw the towel at Striker so he could get Gimp’s blood off his own hand. “Now, where were we, Pebbles?” He took his shot. I could see the anger in his eyes, in the set of his body. “Why were you sent to get him, and why was he sent here in the first place?”

  “Good question, Striker, and I can honestly say I don’t know. I have no idea why Dad sent him here.”

&nb
sp; “Hmmmmm. You could come here more often you know.” His smirk didn’t quite meet his eyes. “We could catch up.” He took his shot and sunk the four ball.

  “Not much catching up to do. My life hasn’t changed much.” He missed his next shot, and Will moved forward, he studied the table, but his eyes flicked to me.

  He bent to make a shot, and just as he was about to hit the ball: “So the rumors aren’t true? You haven’t finally found an Old Man in the club?” Will’s shot missed horribly, and Striker laughed. “So they are true. I have to say, he doesn’t look your type, Pebbles. He’s too… tame.” The way he said it was an obvious insult.

  I smiled. “Looks can be deceiving. What you see isn’t always what you get, that’s a lesson you taught me well.”

  “You’re still sore about that? It’s been four years, Leah.”

  “You mistake me Striker. I’m better off knowing now what I didn’t know then. All I’m saying is that Will does for me something nobody else ever has, including you. Now, since you’ve effectively cut our date night short, we’ll be going.” I hopped off the stool and went to Will’s side, looping my arm around his waist and smiling up at him.

  It was forced, but dammit if it didn’t feel good to be in his arms, even if it was a lie and only for a few minutes. We turned and walked away, heading for the door.

  “Don’t say a word, just keep walking,” I muttered under my breath just loud enough so he could hear.

  When we got near my car, I turned to see someone at the door, watching, so I pulled Will in for a hard kiss. His arms went around me, and I waited until he was gone before pushing Will away.

  “Go home, Will. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Fuck that. I want to know what the fuck all that was about and why the fuck I was sent somewhere you weren’t even going to be.”

  “Good question. I’m going fucking find out. As I said, go home. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I turned and got in my car, pulling out of the parking lot. Anger seeped through my veins, and I sped toward my parents’ house.

  When I pulled in, a bike pulled up behind me. “I swear to God, you might as well be a damn biker, you are stubborn as hell and don’t fucking listen for shit,” I said, getting out of the car and marching toward his bike as he was getting off.

  “That’s also what makes me a damn good lawyer, Sweetheart. I go after it until I’ve got it.”

  “Ugh, you are so fucking frustrating.”

  “Why? Because you can’t put me in one damn box?”

  Yeah, pretty much, I thought to myself. He was driving me bat shit crazy doing things that I didn’t think he would do. Following me to my parents’ wasn’t something I’d have pegged him to do.

  “Leah?” I turned at the sound of my mom’s voice. She was on the front porch wearing pink pajama shorts and a tank top, very much like something I’d wear.

  “Coming, Mama.” I turned to look at Will, but his eyes weren’t on me. He was looking at my mom. There was this unreadable expression on his face. “I’m going to find out why he sent you there.”

  Will looked back at me. “Let’s go then.” He swept his arm up toward my parents’ home, indicating he was coming with me.

  “God save me from stubborn men,” I muttered under my breath.

  “He won’t because you’re too stubborn yourself. If he gave you a lap dog, you’d get bored.”

  He was right, I would get bored. I preferred a man with a smart mouth. Someone I can cross swords with. It’s a type of foreplay in and of itself. I wanted him to drive me crazy and frustrate me in the best ways possible.

  “You don’t know me.”

  He looked at me skeptically. “I know you enough to know that whatever relationship you had with Striker ended badly, and he’s the reason you don’t date in the club. I also know he’s still got a hard on for you.” I spun around quickly. We were a few feet away from my mother who was not even trying to disguise the fact that she was listening to every word we were saying.

  “It’s none of your business.” I poked him in the chest. “You forfeited the right to make it your business the other night. If you’d like to tell me what the fuck you are lying about, then maybe I can move past it and we can move forward. Until then, any chance we had has stalled out.”

  I turned around and moved up the few stairs into Mom and Dad’s double wide. “Daddy!” I called out. My blood was boiling at this point.

  Dad came from his room, shirtless, wearing a pair of sweatpants. “Pebbles. Will.” He nodded, looking over my shoulder.

  “Why?” I croaked out, barely able to contain my anger.

  “For you,” he said simply with a shrug, like it made perfect sense.

  “Cut the horseshit. Why did you send him there?” Nobody talked to Daddy like that, and his eyes darkened with anger.

  “I sent him there so you could get your own head out of your ass.” His chin notched to Will again, who was still silent behind me. “You’re a stubborn ass like me, Leah. It serves you well, but it also hinders you from seeing what’s right in front of you. I wanted to remind you of your past so maybe you could put it to rest and move on. Striker fucked up. He used you to get closer to me. When he found out he would never get the VP patch, he took off to find a new club – leaving you behind. If you want that, I’m sure you could have it, but baby, I never saw you look at him the way you do at Will, so I wanted to make sure you remembered that.”

  “That’s not your decision to make, Dad, and I had a reason for ending things with Will. None of this was your business.”

  “You are my daughter and therefore you are my business!” His voice rose and I shook my head.

  “You’re just as manipulative as every other man I’ve come across,” I said coolly. “I’m done.” I turned and walked away. On the way out the door, I saw Will standing there. “You have your answers. Go home.” I moved past him. My mom called my name quietly, and I ignored her. I wasn’t ready to talk to her yet. She would try to soothe my anger, but I wasn’t ready for that. Dad had interfered for the last time and put Will in danger to do it. I was done.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Will

  I wanted to follow her, but she was right. What right did I have? I was lying to her, and using her the same way Striker had. I was being every bit as manipulative as her ex and her dad. Right now, she hated them both. She would hate me too.

  “What the hell happened?” Leah’s mom’s voice was hoarse as tears filled her eyes. I didn’t want to feel anything for her, but I did. “Who are you?” She looked at me, confusion in her eyes.

  “Will Carver,” I said. Her face drained of color as she connected the name. I held her stare, letting her know I knew exactly who she was. More tears filled her eyes, and I turned away from her to look at her dad. “Was all of that necessary? You could have gotten her or me both hurt or worse.”

  “Nothing would have happened to either of you.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because Striker may no longer be in my club, but he will always protect Leah.”

  He had a point. Striker had been pissed that the Gimp guy had touched Leah. “And had he known about Leah and me, what would he have done to me?”

  “He knew. I told him.”

  I raked my fingers through my hair in frustration. “He loves her.”

  “Yes.”

  That single confirmation angered the hell out of me. I turned and left the house not sparing her mom another glance. Things had gotten so complicated, and my plan was falling apart at the seams, all because of Leah.

  ~**~

  I hated for any of the assholes to win that bet at the gym, but I needed space and time to think. Leah had changed everything. She was the one thing I hadn’t planned on, and the one thing I couldn’t resist.

  My receptionist rang my phone. “Mr. Carver, you have someone here to see you. A Ms. Slate.”

  “Send her in, Elaine.” I sat back in my chair wondering why the hell Leah was in my offic
e. She had made it clear she had no interest in seeing me again, so what the hell would she be here for?

  The door to my office opened, and it wasn’t Leah in front of me.

  “What are you doing here?” My jaw clenched at seeing Leah’s mom standing in front of me.

  “I could ask you the same question, Will. What are you doing with my daughter and how the hell did you find me?” Her eyes were burning bright with anger and fear. She had no clue how close I’d come to outing her right there in front of her husband and daughter, effectively ruining her family like she had mine.

  “It wasn’t that hard, actually.” I sat back in my chair. I relaxed into the comfortable leather and tried to keep my anger and resentment at bay. She’d seen my hand a lot earlier than I had intended, and there was still the factor of Leah that ate at me.

  “Dad is meticulous about records, but all records regarding a Mrs. Smith from six years ago are thin. The “case” in the file was copied from an old case, but the call logs weren’t. He needed to make you look like a real case, so his call logs would match up. Dear old Dad tried to cover his affair very well, but to do the call log, he needed a real number so it wouldn’t deviate should Mom ever get suspicious that he was cheating.”

  I laughed sardonically. “It took me four years going through every damn case that Dad worked on in the two years prior to you both getting caught.”

  “It didn’t last that long.”

  “Long enough to do irreparable damage, Mrs. Slate. Tell me, how would your husband and daughter feel if one of the last images they ever saw was my father on top of you?” Six years of anger and resentment. Six years of trying to figure out a way to get back at the woman who had a hand in destroying my family, and here she was in front of me.

  “I can’t take back what I did, Will, but I didn’t know he was married. He never wore a ring.”

  “But you were married also, or did you forget about your daughter and husband?”

  “No. I didn’t forget about them.” Pain crossed her face and flashed in her eyes. Guilt and regret were evident. “Rock and I were going through a rough patch when I met your dad. We were separated but still living together, frustrated with finances, he was in danger of losing the gym. We fought all the time, and my salon was barely up and running.