by Chiah Wilder
Expecting Wheelie to turn left on Fifth Street, Sofia was surprised when he drove past it and took the streets leading to his house. She reached over and clasped his hand in hers: joy spread through her. That night, Sofia didn’t want to be alone; she longed to be cherished in his strong arms.
While Wheelie took out a blueberry vodka cooler for her and a bottle of beer for himself, Sofia tucked her feet under her butt and watched him from the couch.
“Here you go.” Wheelie bent low and kissed her deeply, then he walked around and sat next to her on the couch and kicked off his boots to rest his feet on the coffee table. He clinked the beer against her drink then took a long pull.
Sofia welcomed the slight kick from the vodka and the taste of blueberry as she swirled the drink in her mouth before swallowing it. “Can I ask you something?”
Wheelie’s gaze landed on hers. “Sure. Anything that isn’t club business.”
“Earlier tonight when I was talking about my grandma, I got the impression that you lost someone you loved very much. That got me thinking that after knowing you for several years, and all the car trips we made to Canon City, I don’t really know much about your background.” Sofia took a gulp, nervous all of a sudden by the way he stared at her. His face was impassive, so she couldn’t read what was going on inside him. “I know you love hard rock and metal, barbecues, country music, and the smell of a crackling fire in the dead of winter. You love when the leaves change in the fall, the ghost towns in the area, and playing pool with your buddies. There’s so much more … and I know you have a good heart … a kind one, and you’re a loyal friend.” Another gulp. Wheelie’s gaze still held hers. Still no reading on what he was thinking. “But I don’t know anything about you before Pinewood Springs. I know you’re from Denver, but I don’t know how many siblings you have, if your parents are still together, if you still keep up with old friends from Denver. I know nothing about you ‘pre-Insurgents.’”
Wheelie took a drink of beer, his gaze still fixed on hers.
Sofia finished the vodka cooler and put the bottle on the side table. “Do you want to share any of that with me? I’d like you to, but if you don’t that would be okay.”
“Do you want another one?” Wheelie’s eyes flicked over to the end table.
“Okay.” He doesn’t want to talk. I wish he would. I want to know everything about you, Wheelie.
He handed her the opened bottle then cracked open another bottle of Coors. “My dad and I were real tight. I worshipped the fuck outta him, and he was the best dad in the world to me and my sister. He was a pretty damn good husband too, and my mom adored him.” Wheelie took a gulp of beer then turned slightly toward her. “My childhood was pretty normal but it all went to hell when a semi-truck slammed into my dad’s car on the freeway. The driver had fallen asleep and it was raining, and … my dad never stood a chance.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sofia whispered, reaching out and rubbing his hand.
Wheelie pressed his lips together. “Shit happens. It fuckin’ sucked, but there we all were—left with a gaping hole in our lives. I thought I’d never feel normal again. I don’t know … maybe I still don’t. I know there are times when I miss the hell outta my old man.” He chuckled as he stared past her with a faraway glaze over his eyes.
“How old was your sister?”
Wheelie snapped his gaze back to her. “Fourteen. She didn’t handle it well at all. She had just started high school, and all the usual rebel shit teenagers do was magnified by our dad’s death. She gave my mom a real hard time.”
“Is your mother still in Denver?”
“Yeah. She remarried about six years ago. Al’s a good guy. He brought the smile back in my mom’s life, so I’m thankful to him for that. She’s doing okay.”
“And your sister? Did she straighten out?” Sofia picked up the vodka cooler and ran her finger down the condensation on the bottle.
“Her husband killed her.” Wheelie looked away.
A sudden coldness hit at her core, and Sofia spread her fingers out in a fan against her breastbone. “Oh, my God! That’s awful. How did it happen? When? Why?” The horror and sadness of what Wheelie had told her left her limbs numb.
“The fucker strangled her ten years ago because he’s a sick sonofabitch.”
“How awful.” She leaned toward him, but he shook his head and she pulled back. “Did he go to prison?”
“Yeah.”
“Tigger never told me about your sister. I had no idea.”
“He wasn’t even prospecting when it happened. Not all the brothers know. I don’t talk about it. No reason to. The brotherhood was there for me all the way.” Sadness tinged his voice, bringing Sofia back to the reality that Wheelie would most likely get kicked out of the club he loved so much.
“What about you? I don’t know shit about your background either. I know you love blueberry and vodka. You’d kill for spareribs. You’re the most genuine woman I’ve ever met. You’re crazy for dancing, Jason Aldean, and good-looking men.” He caught her eye and winked. Sofia playfully swatted him then giggled. “And you’ve totally captivated me for the last six years.” Wheelie reached out and tugged her to him then pressed his lips on hers.
“You’re the best man I’ve ever known. For real.” Sofia blinked rapidly.
He sat back, picked up his beer, and smiled. “So tell me about you before I met you. I bet you were cute as fuck.”
“I was, but my dad made it a point to tell me I wasn’t. You know that my dad beat my mother.”
“Yeah. I know you had it tough, baby. Did you have anyone around to share the misery with?”
“Two brothers. My oldest brother is ten years older than me so he left when I was still young. Once he got out of high school he took off to Denver then got married. He was always nice to me, taking me out for ice cream or to a movie to get away when my dad was drunk or beating on my mom.”
Wheelie jerked his head back. “He didn’t try and protect your mom when he was older—like in high school?”
“No, but that was my mom’s doing. She’d get mad if we interfered or called the cops. She’d tell us to leave it alone.”
“But even so. How the fuck could he just stand by and let your old man beat your mom? And what about your other brother? Why the fuck didn’t they gang up on your dad?” Anger flashed in his eyes.
Sofia’s stomach tightened and she crossed her arms over her chest while shaking her head. “You weren’t there. Don’t judge my brothers. Like I said, my mother would flip out on us if we tried to call the cops. The times we did, she’d be on the phone the next day explaining that she didn’t want to press charges and she needed her husband back. Then she’d take it out on us by blaming us for breaking up the family and all kinds of stupid shit. Sometimes, if my brothers tried to pull my dad off of my mom, he’d get madder and hurt her worse.” Images of her mother’s bruised, swollen, and battered body cowering in the corner of the kitchen pierced her mind and she covered her face with her hands.
Then Wheelie had her close to him, smoothing down her hair, whispering words she couldn’t hear as he held her tight.
“You don’t need to talk about it. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m the type of guy who can’t sit by, but you’re right about me not being there. Who knows how I would’ve reacted.”
Sofia knew exactly how Wheelie would’ve reacted if it had been his family: he’d make sure his dad never hurt his mom again.
“Do you still see your brothers?”
“No. I don’t really talk to my family or friends from my past anymore.” Tigger made sure of that. “Every once in a while I’ll call my mom. She never calls me.”
“Is she still with your dad?”
“Yeah. And last I heard, both of my brothers are in prison. Mom didn’t tell me why. I don’t think she knew. She’d only gotten letters from them. Man … I have a really fucked up family.”
Wheelie laughed and squeezed her closer. “The important thing is t
hat you survived. Now, you gotta stop the cycle and throw Tigger to the curb, because I’m gonna be honest with you, babe, if he as much as lays one finger on you, I’m gonna beat his ass until he’s dead. I’ve been holding in a lot of anger about the way he treats you, but I’m not standing on the sidelines anymore.”
His words seeped into Sofia, filling up all the holes Tigger’s abuse had created within her. Right there, cocooned in Wheelie’s heat, she felt safe. Gently, she skimmed the palm of her hand across his forearm, the light spattering of hair tickling her skin.
“You don’t need to be afraid. I have your back. Let me know when you want to leave and I’ll be there, but don’t tell him you’re leaving. Promise me.”
“I promise,” she said softly.
“I’m fuckin’ crazy about you.” Wheelie kissed the top of her head, and his fingers stroked her cheek.
His words and his caresses spread joy slowly through her veins and warmed her. “I’m crazy about you too.” Sofia touched his lips, raised her head, and met his molten gaze, burning with desire … and love? Does he love me? Wheelie bent low, closing the space between them, and crushed his lips against hers. Hands that held her tight seconds before were now everywhere. Fondling. Stroking. Scratching. One hand cupped her breast as the other slipped between her thighs. Moaning, Sofia slid her hands up his chest and back down again while Wheelie’s muscles rippled at her touch.
“I need you, babe,” he rasped, his fingers gliding under her shorts. “In so many ways.”
“Let’s go to your bedroom,” Sofia whispered as she peppered kisses down his throat, licking his Adam’s apple.
Wheelie pulled her up, and with their arms around each other, they went up the stairs.
Later that night, as Sofia watched Wheelie sleep, the expression on his face looked peaceful. He’s so beautiful. She traced the outline of his strong jaw, his full lips, and his curved brows. Watching his chest rise and fall, she smiled and lay back down beside him, his arm automatically drawing her close to him. Sofia drew light circular patterns over his sculpted chest. So wonderful, so perfect. But it was the man inside that was the most awesome part of Wheelie. He gave her laughter and security. He brought the glitter back into her life. He was her strong and steady.
“I love you, Wheelie,” she whispered into the darkness.
Outside, a few stars shone through the partially closed blinds, and she looked for the brightest one. Finding it, she stared at the sky. Star light, star bright. Would you grant my wish tonight? She closed her eyes. I wish that Wheelie doesn’t get kicked out of the club, and that he tells me he loves me. I know that’s two wishes. Am I allowed to have more than one? I don’t remember.
The following day, she’d call Cara and make an appointment with the family law attorney. At that moment life carried so many possibilities, and the thought of starting over made her giddy with anticipation.
I never thought I’d be happy again. Then Wheelie happened.
Snuggling closer to him, Sofia let his steady breathing lull her to sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
Wheelie stood in the back of the meeting room waiting for church to start. A few of the members straggled in, bumping fists with Wheelie, engaging in small talk, but he didn’t want any of it at that moment. His gut twisted and tightened like a boa constrictor coiling around its prey. This is probably the last time I’ll be in this room. Fuck, this sucks. It was shit luck that Wheelie had run into Hawk at the concert the night before. He’s the last damn person I thought I’d see at an Aldean show. I never figured him liking country. But Wheelie had known the risk all along, and he couldn’t help taking his friendship with Sofia to the next level. They were drawn to each other, and as hard as they’d tried over the years, their connection only grew stronger.
Wheelie leaned his head back against the concrete wall as the corners of his mouth twitched. She’s beautiful, sexy, and sweet. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Everything about Sofia made him feel great. She was his shot of whiskey. She brought light to the darkness that had invaded his heart ever since Kendra died.
The muscle in his jaw pulsed as more members came into the room, and he gazed at Hawk as he entered, noticing that the vice president didn’t even look at him. Wheelie took several deep breaths, exhaling each one slowly. No matter what goes down today, I’m not sorry. Sofia is worth it. Little by little, over the years of car rides, conversations, joking, listening to music, and a thousand other things, she’d seeped into his heart, taken hold of it, and Wheelie would be damned if he was letting her go. Sofia was the only woman who satisfied him in a way no other woman ever had or ever could. When he thought of all the cruel things Tigger had done to her, fire raced through his veins. I should’ve beaten the shit outta that fucker the first time he laid a hand on her. Now, standing at the back of the room, waiting for the axe to fall, that was the only thing he regretted.
The room was abuzz with conversation and bantering when Banger walked in and went to the front. Wheelie stared at him, trying to gauge Banger’s mood, but his president’s face revealed nothing. Hawk stood in his usual place next to Banger, his gaze on everyone but Wheelie. Banger brought the gavel down on the wood block, signaling the start of church.
“The first thing we gotta talk about is something that pisses the hell outta me. Something I didn’t think I’d ever have to bring up or we’d have to deal with as a club …”
The muscles in Wheelie’s chest tightened, and he placed his palms flat against the wall behind him, bracing himself. Here we go.
“Someone’s fuckin’ with the books. The numbers aren’t adding up. Hawk and Chas have gone over them a ton of times, and there’s a deficit.” Banger ran his fingers through his blond hair. “And it’s an inside job.” He stared hard at each member. “It’s one of us.”
A tsunami of relief washed over Wheelie as he listened to his president’s words. He’d thought for sure he was history, but … the meeting wasn’t over yet. Banger may be saving the best for last.
For the next hour, the focus was on the deception and Banger telling the members that if the money was replaced the club would turn a blind eye, but every Insurgent knew that was bullshit. There was no way the culprit would come out of it unscathed. Wheelie pitied the member who dared to betray the club, but then the realization that he’d been disloyal by taking up with another brother’s wife grabbed him by the balls.
“Moving on, the San Diego trip has been postponed for a few weeks because Panther and his crew are on hiatus. They’re helping family and community with these fires and shit in”—Banger looked down at a piece of paper in his hand—“Campo and Bonsall. Panther’s gonna let me know when the club needs us to head over there. The charity rally we’re doing for Bikers Against Child Abuse is going well, but we need all the brothers to participate in it this fall, so no one’s leaving unless it’s a family emergency or your goddamn appendix bursts.” The members laughed and voiced their support in attending and helping with the rally. Banger looked at Hawk. “You got anything to add or are we done here?”
Hawk pushed away from the wall. “I’m good. It’s time to get a beer and a shot of Jack.”
Banger lifted and brought down the gavel. “Church is over.”
Chairs scraping against concrete, boots thumping, and voices and laughter filling the room meant that it was time to go into the main room and relax with the club women, play a few games of pool, or just drink and talk about Harleys.
Wheelie watched in disbelief as his brothers filed out of the room. Smokey came over to him and clasped his shoulder.
“You staying for a bit? I’ve got some information on that fucker who’s been tailing you.”
Pulled away from the shock of not having his ass thrown out of the club, Wheelie looked at Smokey. “Yeah. I’ll meet you in the main room.”
Wheelie hung back, waiting for everyone to leave. Banger walked out with Rock and Chas, their heads bent, their faces earnest as they spoke about so
mething. Wheelie guessed it was probably about the stealing. He wondered which member would do something like that.
The only one left in the room was Hawk, and Wheelie cleared his throat and took a few steps toward the vice president. Hawk stared at him as Wheelie approached.
“Thanks, dude. I thought this was it,” Wheelie said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Last night was your warning. Stay the fuck away from her. Next time, your ass is outta here.” Hawk lifted his chin at Wheelie then left the room.
Wheelie felt like a drowning man who’d just been thrown a life preserver. The night before Hawk had really reamed him out, but his vice president didn’t say a word to Banger, and Wheelie knew that was huge. Hawk was a tough and loyal Insurgent, but Wheelie suspected that since Cara had entered his life, Hawk understood how a woman can consume and devour a man, making him want more and more because he can never get his fill of her. That’s how it was with Sofia, and seeing Hawk and Cara together, Wheelie was pretty sure that’s how he felt with his woman.
Wheelie had come in with heavy footfalls, and he left with a spring in his step. He was still an Insurgent. He went into the main room and saw Animal, Puck, Throttle, and Smokey standing by the bar talking. Wheelie walked up to them and bumped fists then picked up the shot of whiskey the prospect had put in front of him. In five seconds, it was warming the remains of the congealed tension that had been in his belly since Wheelie had come into the clubhouse earlier that morning. The prospect set another shot and a bottle of beer on the counter.
Looking at Smokey, Wheelie leaned inward. “So, you said you found the fucker?”
“Yeah. Me and Puck spotted his car behind the Manor Inn next to the dumpster under the elm tree.”