by KE Osborn
I couldn’t have both.
So, I left her room. The look in Neala’s eyes broke something in me that day. It also broke us. Now we go about our days sending longing looks while trying hard to avoid each other. It’s a shitty situation, but it’s the hand we’ve been dealt. Torque doesn’t approve of me with his sister, so what the hell can I do? I can’t disrespect my president, so I’m screwed.
Sometimes you just don’t get the girl.
So, I occupy my time with seeing Chloe instead. It’s a shitty consolation prize, but seeing Chloe is something I need to do. She takes my mind off Neala. I want to focus more on Chloe anyway. I need to pay her more attention. It’s not fair on Chloe. I should be more focused on her instead of the amount of time I spend thinking about Neala. Chloe’s more important right now, at least she should be... shouldn’t she?
Grunting out my frustrations, I turn to see Trax standing at the edge of the hall looking at me, a hard glint in his eyes.
Shit.
I guess if there’s one thing to be thankful for, he’s not Torque, but he’s still one of Neala’s brothers and my VP, so I’m expecting to cop some shit right now. I stride over moving to push past him, but he grabs my cut slamming me against the wall, making me grit my teeth as I look at him.
Fuck.
“Granted, I didn’t see the whole thing, but my little sister’s in a bad mood with you… again. You need to sort your shit out, prospect, before you have two big brothers coming after you. You feel me?” He shoves me against the wall again then lets me go. I exhale as I dip my head. He then breaks out into a giant chuckle. “Shit man, you should see your face right now. Fucking priceless. But honestly, keep hurting her, and we’re really going to have words. Can you two please get your fucking act together? She can’t be coming in here causing a scene all the time.”
I let out a laugh. “You think I have the power to control Lala? The woman has a mind of her own.”
Trax smiles his lopsided smirk. “Don’t I know it? Trust me, kid, when a woman ties you down, they run everything. But it’s worth it. Having a woman on your side who gets you, I mean truly understands you, who would do anything for you… that’s worth all the fuss. If Lala’s the woman for you, then fight for her. I don’t want to fucking know anything about what the hell you two get up to, but if you like her, hell, if you love her… fight for her, damn it. That’s all she’ll want.”
I raise my brow. Trax was such a hot-head almost to the point of losing himself until Sparx came into his life again. We were all worried he was going to go off the rails. She calmed him, made him find himself. He’s back in tune with his inner joker now, and he seems more centered if it’s even possible. He seems—happy.
“Look at you being all insightful and shit.”
He chuckles. “I can be sometimes.”
I exhale. “And is Torque on the same page as you?”
He rolls his shoulders. “I think Torque sees Lala as the little girl he’s had to look after growing up. To him, she’ll always be his baby sister, not the woman she’s turned into. She’s twenty-two now. She can do what she wants. Date who she wants. If it’s you, man…” He grins. “Then at least we know who to kill if you hurt her, right?”
Opening my eyes wide, I swallow a lump caught in my throat, words evading me.
He chuckles slapping my arm. “Kidding… kinda. All I’m saying is… I’m on your team. Torque might take a little more convincing. He’s protective. He feels like he’s the head of this family, almost like he has to be her father now that Guinness isn’t here for us all. You know what I’m saying?”
I do. I get it. He’s protective, but it doesn’t help me. I care about Lala. Hell, I want her more than I’ve ever wanted another woman, but being with someone shouldn’t be this hard. There shouldn’t be this many barriers in the way.
Sighing, I slump my shoulders. “Trax, can I be blunt with you?”
He shrugs. “Yeah.”
“I like Lala. Have for as long as I can remember—”
“Then what the fuck are you doing, kid? Don’t fuck her around, that’s not cool.” His eyes harden like he’s getting pissed off with me again.
“It’s my patch.”
Trax takes a breath leaning against the wall as he crosses his arms against his chest. “You think you starting something with my sister is going to stop you from gaining your patch?”
Rubbing the back of my neck, my muscles tense all over. “Torque said about as much.”
Trax heaves out a laugh. “Of course, he did…” he rolls his eyes, “… fuckhead. Okay, leave it with me. I’ll talk with him—”
“Nah, man, I don’t need you running interference for me. It will just make me look like a pussy.”
Trax bursts out laughing. “You are a pussy. But my sister adores the ground you walk on. If my dipshit brother is the only thing stopping you two from being happy, then all we need to do is bring him into line. He’s happy in a relationship, so am I. Lala should have that, too.”
Trax has changed so much in the year since Sparx’s been back. He’s a doting father, a great partner to Sparx, he’s even taken on more here at the club. If it was only that simple, I’d swoop in and sweep Lala off her feet like she fucking deserves, but even if Torque did say it was okay, there’s so much animosity between Lala and me, I don’t even know if we’re fixable at this point.
“Maybe she’s better off without me. She should find some designer douche. Not some biker who Torque will always be watching.”
Trax chuckles. “You think if she went out with some dickhole designer, Torque wouldn’t have him tailed? Lala’s love life will be monitored, no matter what. At least if it’s with a biker, Torque will feel like she’s better protected. If it’s with a man he knows, respects even, then he should let up.”
“So you’re saying I have to get Torque to respect me?”
He grimaces. “Yeah… I mean, I’m sure he already has a level of respect for you or you wouldn’t be a prospect, but you want to date his little sister… so that takes next-level respect.”
“You’re not actually helping.”
He laughs slapping my shoulder. “Like I said, I’ll subtly work on him for you while you think of a grand gesture.”
My head recoils back. “Wait. What?”
He smiles his cocky lopsided smirk. “Yes, something big. Something both Torque and Lala will get a kick out of to know you love her.”
My stomach churns as he punches my arm while heading out into the clubrooms. “Trax, wait. That’s not what I…”
But he’s gone before I can finish. Rubbing my temple from the sudden headache that’s pounding behind my eyes, I clench them shut as I rest my forehead against the wall taking a breath.
What the fuck is going on? Neala’s hiding in her bedroom drunk. Trax is going to try and talk to Torque about me dating their sister when I don’t even know if it’s in the cards. Now, apparently, I need to plan a big gesture?
All I know is I want my patch. I need my patch. With things going the way they are tonight, Torque is likely to call me into the chapel in the morning and banish me from the club altogether.
This is a fucking nightmare.
The clubhouse is generally quiet for a Saturday morning. Not a hell of a lot is happening today. We have a gun trade tomorrow with Harry Linn, so I’m pretty sure Torque will send Zane, Vibe, and me to retrieve the guns from Gunner’s range. They’re delivered there from whoever Torque deals with.
I don’t ask, he doesn’t tell.
I just do what I’m told.
That’s the job of a prospect.
I’ve been with the club since I was twenty-one, coming up on two years now. Some might think it’s a long time to still be a prospect, but here at the club you have to earn your patch. I think while I’ve proved my loyalty and commitment to the club, my affiliation with Neala has set me back a lot. I don’t know if Torque’s doing it on purpose, or if he doesn’t even know he’s doing it, but the dela
y is torturing me. I want to feel like I truly belong here. Like I’ve earned my place. Like I’m a real brother. But I’m beginning to think maybe I’ll be a life-long prospect.
God, won’t that be pathetic.
Taking a seat at one of the tables in the clubroom, I slump into the chair gazing around the room, subtly looking to see if Lala’s here. But either she’s already left for the day, or she isn’t up yet. So, I sink further into the chair pulling out my cell to play a game until someone slides in beside me. I glance up to see Renegade. Exhaling, I place my cell on the table while looking to the slightly older man. His oily, long blond tatty hair with flecks of gray frame his long, thin face. There’s a scar running down through his right eye and cheek. His gray beard is pointed in a small triangle at the base of his chin. Today he’s wearing a green tank top under his cut covered in grease? Dirt? I’m not sure. But whatever look he’s sporting, he always appears like he’s done ten rounds with a dumpster. Guy really needs a damn shower. I turn up my nose with a sigh. “Renegade, how are we this morning?” I ask as he plops beside me getting comfortable.
Renegade has always been one of the more unpredictable brothers of the club. He’s been here for a crazy long-ass time, so no one questions anything he does out of respect, but he’s definitely not always the one to do the right thing. He and Trax were the two wild cards of the club. Now that Trax has calmed down with Sparx and the kids, Renegade’s the one we need to watch. He’s unpredictable, volatile, and he pretty much does whatever the hell he wants. The only person Renegade tends to listen to completely is Surge. I think because Surge is an Original 9, they were here together before us ‘young bloods’ took over.
“Tremor… how long you been here for now?” he asks cracking his knuckles loudly.
I watch his knuckles bend as he manipulates them harshly. “Two years, just about.”
He hums under his breath. “A little long to still be a prospect, don’t you think? Why haven’t you proved yourself to the club yet? You not truly in this? Not giving this your all?”
Sitting up taller, my nostrils flare as I tilt my head. “I work my ass off for this club. I want my patch more than anything, Renegade. You don’t know what I’ve given up to try and get it.”
“I don’t think you’re trying hard enough. Two years? I got mine in six months. If you were truly committed to this club, you would—”
“Renegade, I need you to go with Lift to finalize the incoming steroid shipment.” Torque’s booming voice makes us both look up. Renegade’s top lip turns up in a look of protest, but he slides out from the bench looking at me.
“Think about what I said, Tremor.” He walks off as Torque, my President, slides into his place.
I tense up as I look to him. “Thanks for the bailout, pres.”
He chuckles. “Most people need to be bailed out from a conversation with Renegade, been there myself. He made me doubt whether I wanted to have bacon for breakfast one day. Man can make anyone think any-fucking-thing. He’s a master manipulator, kid. Don’t let him get the better of you.”
“Thanks, pres…” I pause wondering if I should be honest with him. “Torque, can I be open with you about something?”
He brings his hands up on the table linking his fingers together into a tight ball. “Mmm, but if it’s about Neala, I might not like it.”
Tensing all over, I wasn’t going to ask about her, but it makes me even more anxious. “No, ahh, I mean…” I exhale, starting again. “It’s my patch. I know I’ve been here for a long time. I get I need to earn it, too. I’m just wondering if there’s something I need to do in particular to… you know, move it along?”
He lets out an exhale. “You’ve been here, what? Two years?”
“Two great years.”
Torque pats my back. “And you feel like you know the club, how it works in that time?”
My muscles tense as I look at him hearing his hard tone as I realize what he’s saying. “I shouldn’t have asked, right?” Torque shines his pearly whites right at me in response, the sarcasm seeping from him. “I just made it longer, didn’t I?”
Torque chuckles slapping my back as he stands from the seat. “You’re a good kid, Tremor. I like you. You know the rules, you play by them…” He glances up. I follow his line of sight to see Neala walking into the room. “But you also bend them…” I understand what he’s saying. “I’m not saying you won’t get your patch, brother. You will. Just show me you deserve it.”
He turns walking off as I sink into my seat, hating he’s basically reaffirmed I can’t be with Neala if I want my patch.
Good one, dipshit, way to put your foot in your mouth.
I watch Lala walk over to the bar, sit down, and begin chatting with Ruby.
Neala looks good.
Too fucking good.
And considering what Torque just said, I shouldn’t be looking at her at all, but the woman demands attention when she walks into a room. Well, my attention anyway. Sighing, I figure I’ll forego breakfast this morning. I can’t be here right now. I need to let off some steam, so I walk past Lala, noticing her eyes shift to watch me as I leave heading for the door. I’m not going far, just to the outside gym area to get rid of some of this pent-up tension before I need to go with Vibe and Zane to retrieve the gun shipment. I wish I could work off my tension with Lala. I know a few ways I could de-stress with her. But it’s not possible, and if she keeps looking at me like that, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to hold myself in check. Woman should have one hell of a hangover, but even she makes being dusty look beautiful as she sits with a juice in her hand.
She looks at me noticing I’m heading for the door. I feel like I’m almost out of danger. I just have to make it through the door without caving when I see Sass walk up to her. She says something making Neala stand up, her eyes lock with mine, and then they both start walking toward me.
Shit.
NEALA
Watching Tremor walk out of the clubhouse, I can’t help but hope he’s not going to see the mysterious Chloe again. I don’t think I could handle it with my hangover today. As it is, I need to go home at some point to start thinking about contacting Zane’s sister in regards to her home design project, but that can wait until later. Right now, as Sass suggested, I need fresh air.
“So, is the juice helping?” she asks as we step out the door making our way to the makeshift wooden seats.
The sun’s shining on this beautiful June weekend. The sky’s blue with only a slight smattering of fluffy white clouds gracing the vastness above us as is the high-pitched racket of sparrows chirping in the nearby American elm tree. For all intents and purposes, this is a glorious day. I might look like I’m not hung-over, but it’s amazing what a good foundation and styling your hair can achieve. My head, on the other hand, is letting me know in no uncertain terms who’s owning this morning’s misery.
“Yeah, painkillers, too. Why did you encourage me to drink so damn much?” I quip.
Sass chuckles. “Girl, I didn’t encourage, you were practically guzzling from the bottle. Who am I to stand in your way? I love a good tequila night. Anyway, Sensei and I had some drunken looove after we all went to bed, if you know what I mean.” Her eyebrows waggle up and down as we plonk onto the bench seats. I can’t help but notice Tremor all alone at the outside gym as he shrugs out of his cut placing it on the bench. Sass follows my line of sight letting out an unladylike snort.
“Oh slick, this should be fun,” she chimes kicking her feet up on the bench beside her as we both sit, watching Tremor slide his shirt over his head. His abs glisten in the already sweltering summer sun. My muscles tense as I chew on my bottom lip. What I wouldn’t give to run my fingers over those washboard abs once more. An ache develops between my legs, so I clench my thighs together in an attempt to stop myself from becoming too obvious.
He reaches up to the chin-up bar. I almost moan out in delight. His biceps strain as he hoists himself up. Sass chuckles beside me as I sta
re at him. I don’t even care at this point, he’s too fucking good not to look at right now. I mean the guy’s muscles are flexing. When someone looks this damn good right in front of me, it would be rude not to appreciate it, right?
Sass snorts again as she reaches into her pocket pulling out a stick of gum, shoving it into her mouth. “You should see how far your tongue’s hanging out of your face right now. I should be recording this on my phone. Actually, hold still while I get my cell out,” she teases. I finally break my eyes from Tremor’s hard, defined, perfectly working muscles to look to her as she grins at me.
“Stop! Okay, so I might be checking him out—”
“Might be? You’re practically licking his abs from here.”
I giggle like a giddy school girl. “Now that would be fun.”
“Ladies, care if I join you?” A voice makes us both turn in the other direction to see Renegade leering down at us.
He always makes my skin crawl. He’s been here longer than I even know. He was brought in by my dad, so I guess I need to trust my father’s judgment that he saw something in Renegade which made him think he belonged to Defiance. To me, though, he seems kind of like the odd man out. The thorn in our sides. The one the brothers are always trying to keep the peace with.
“Well, slick, we’re actually trying to spend some quality ladies time—”
He slides in next to Sass interrupting her, “Great, I love the ladies, and I know you all love me.” He looks at me with a wink. “Right, Lala?”
Sighing, I fake a smile at him. “Sure thing, Renegade, whatever you say.”
He wraps his arm around Sass’s shoulders making her eyes widen, her body tensing in disapproval. I grimace not knowing what to do as he looks me up and down, his eyes stopping on my tits then staying there. Like they have a thousand times before.
I fold my arms over my chest forcing him to look back up to my eyes. “So, word on the street is you’re a free agent, Lala?”
I tilt my head. “Free agent?”
He grins salaciously, but coming from him, it’s just plain creepy. “Working interior design for yourself, now?”