Captivate Me

by Ryan Michele

  “He’s going to be in trouble, isn’t he?” Her eyes flicker with concern.

  I have to admit that I love the fact that she cares so much about Buzz. He deserves that, deserves to have a good woman who will stand by him.

  I place my hand on her leg, giving it a slight squeeze. “Club business,” is my only response.

  She sighs, saying nothing, like my answer is satisfactory, then goes back to the movie. That’s another reason she’s good for my brother: she doesn’t ask questions. She accepts fate and moves on. It takes a strong woman to do that without giving any shit for it.

  “Why aren’t you with Princess and Angel?” I ask.

  She turns her head my way. “I’m tired. The adrenaline from getting the call and racing here crashed, so I told them I wanted to lie down for a bit. They’ve been taking shifts, coming down here and saying they’re making sure I’m alright. But I know it’s because Buzz told them to keep an eye on me.”

  “That’s a good thing, Bella. We don’t want another man trying to take what Buzz considers his.”

  Her eyes come to mine. “Huh?”

  “Just let them keep checking on you. What about school?”

  “I have one exam left. I called my professor and told him there was a family emergency, and he said I could take it online.” She shrugs. “It’s open notes, anyway. And then I’m on break for a while.”

  I pat her legs. “Then you’re good. I’ve got shit to do.”

  She nods, moving her legs from my lap as I rise, and she continues watching her movie. From her droopy eyes, I know she’ll be out soon. I smile, noting to myself to come back and check on her.

  “You owe me five hundred dollars,” Bella says from across the table in the basement of the clubhouse.

  “What the fuck?” I growl.

  I can’t believe this woman roped me into playing fucking Monopoly. I played a few times as a kid, but fuck, I had to do a quick read of the damn rules. Rules, I fucking hate rules, but Bella is a damn stickler for them.

  “You landed on my Park Place with two houses. Pay up!” she says with a laugh that pulls you in.

  Even if it is a fucking damn game, I don’t like giving up my money. Still, I count out the cash and hand it over to her.

  She snatches the fake money with an award-winning smile. “Thank you.”

  “You’re a pain in the ass,” I tell her jokingly.

  “You love me,” she retorts.

  I shake my head, loving the easy comradery between Bella and me.

  “I’m down to fifty bucks, Bella. It’s safe to say you won.” I look at all of the cash she has piled up, along with all of her property. I really don’t give a shit about the game, so I fully admit that I didn’t put much effort into it.

  “You can sell your properties.”

  I look down at my lonely five cards then up at her with a quirk of my brow. “Even if I sell, I’m out.”

  I’ve been trying to keep Bella company while Buzz is doing club business. He didn’t ask me to or anything like that; I just thought she would like a change of scenery from being with the ol’ ladies.

  “Fine,” she huffs, but I can tell she doesn’t mean it. “Let’s watch a movie,” she suggests as she begins to put the pieces of the game away.

  “Sure.” I have nothing pressing that needs to be done, and with Buzz and Tug here, no one is at our apartment. Might as well hang out. “What?”

  She finishes putting the last pieces away. “Ocean’s Eleven,” she answers, which makes me pretty happy. That is so much better than a fucking chick flick.

  She puts the board away, and then we move over to the couch. She lies on one end, resting her head on the arm, and I sit on the other with her feet in my lap. She cues up the movie, and it begins.

  A while into it, she shifts, looking down the couch at me. “Can I ask you something?”

  I feel the urge to smirk but don’t. “Sure.”

  “Why don’t you kiss me or touch me?”

  I’m not going to lie and say I’m taken off guard by her question because I’m not. I’ve been sexual with Bella once, and my brother was there. He has to be.

  “Because you’re my brother’s girl,” I answer.

  Her brows scrunch together like she’s thinking really hard. “But we’ve been together.”

  “Once … with Buzz there.” If I’ve learned anything over the past few days about this woman, it’s that she’s stubborn as hell. “Because I don’t fuck women by myself.”

  That’s the first time I’ve ever told anyone that little tidbit. She’s so damn easy to talk to, and granted, I don’t talk all that much, but she takes the edge off.

  She sits up on the couch. “What do you mean?”

  I can’t give her more. That bit of information was a huge step for me. She doesn’t know it, but my past is too fucked up to tarnish her head with.

  I squeeze her bare leg gently. “Exactly what I said. I don’t have sex with a woman unless my brother is there.”

  “But why?” she challenges.

  “Babe, that’s as much as you get.” I give her a stern look. “Either we sit here and watch the movie, or I’m out.”

  She must see it in my eyes, because she lies back down, puts her feet back on me, and we watch while the Ocean’s Eleven team takes out a casino.

  I move to Pops’ door and knock twice.

  “In,” he calls, and I step through the door, seeing Pops’ hair is disheveled every which way like he’s run his hands through it a hundred times, no doubt feeling all this shit on his shoulders. “Whatcha need?” he asks, plopping down in his desk chair.

  “Talked to Buzz. He thinks we should do a sweep of the property.”

  Pops sits up at this and puts his elbows on the desk, looking at me intently while I explain what Buzz said earlier. Then he wipes his hands over his face with a growl.

  “Do it. Check fucking everything.”

  I nod. He’s got too much shit going on in his head, and no way am I adding to it. I leave and get to work.

  The door clicks behind Breaker, and the lead weight that is on my shoulders pushes me down on the spot. Who would have thought all this shit would come back to bite me in the ass?

  Work I should have done over thirty years ago has come back to haunt me, haunt my brothers, my children, my grandchildren, my wife. That motherfucker.

  We discussed this shit several times, and I thought it was over and done with. I should have known better. I should have known he wouldn’t let me taking Charlotte go. And we integrated him into our lives. We’ve done runs for him, and he’s paid us without question. He pretty much snowballed me, and I’m fucking pissed I let it happen. Tink, motherfucking Tink. I hate that name. Fucking hate it.

  Growing up, I knew when I turned eighteen I would be a member of the Ravage MC. It’s in my blood, and I fucking love it.

  The pussy is plentiful, and I have my brother’s backs. It isn’t easy, that’s for damn sure. Being the president’s son puts a fucking target on my back, and not a good one. I proved I was worthy of the rag I wear today. I did all the shit jobs without complaint. Hell, I did anything I was told without thought. I’ve been wearing this leather for four years now, and the only way the rag comes off is if it’s pried off my cold, dead body.

  I follow behind the brothers as we pull into the large motorcycle rally. “Welcome Bikers,” it says on the huge banner. Striker, my father and president, likes to bring us to a couple of these a year. One, it’s good business to meet new people and expand our income. And two, we can do runs, and it looks perfectly normal.

  We greet the men we see as we move through the crowds.

  “Well, lookie here,” a deep voice comes from the side of us, and we turn. “The Ravage boys came.”

  Striker’s face is unmoving as he walks up to the man. “Ransom, good to see you.” He holds out his hand, and Ransom shakes it. What catches my attention is the woman he has his arm slung over.

  She’s fucking gorgeous
with dark brown hair that comes down past her shoulders, tight-ass jeans that hug her waist and flair out around her delectable hips. Her tits are fucking perky, and with her low cut shirt, I harden. When my eyes meet hers, it’s as if time stands still. They are deep blue and tell me of wicked promises.

  Sure, I fuck lots of women; that’s the nature of the beast. This woman, though, is calling to me like something I never felt. And she has another man’s arm around her. Fuck me.

  “Eyes off,” Ransom snaps at me, and I turn to him with a small smile.

  “Appreciating the view,” I tell him coolly, not letting on that this woman just brought me to my fucking knees.

  “Well, knock it the fuck off,” Ransom growls, and the woman next to him smiles, knocking the fucking wind out my sails. Fucking hell. “This is my woman, Charlotte. My woman,” he reiterates, but I’m already lost.

  Charlotte will be mine, come hell or high water.

  I wouldn’t change a fucking thing I did back then to get Ma in my bed. She’s the best fucking thing that ever happened to me. It just pisses me off that the fucker can’t let the fact that she chose me over him go. Instead, he’s trying to bring down my club.

  Fuck that. I beat his ass once, I’ll fucking do it again.

  I slam my fists down on the desk as a soft knock comes to the door.

  “Yeah?”

  The door slowly opens, and there stands my wife, my ol’ lady, my best fucking friend. My heart expands as she shuts the door and enters the room.

  I rise as she comes directly to me and wraps her arms around me, holding me tight. I suck in the smell of flowers on her skin and hair as she rests her head on my chest. Ma knows me better than I know myself, and damn if that isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.

  “What can I do?” she asks. Not what’s going on, demanding to know; she just asks what she can do. Fuck, I love this woman.

  I kiss the top of her head. “Get ready for a full house. I’m calling in everyone and their families. They’ll be here as long as it takes to fix this shit.” She squeezes me. “Ransom is back in our faces.”

  Ma pulls away abruptly and looks up at me, her eyes wide. “What?”

  “Ransom. He’s still carrying around the grudge.”

  Ma’s hands come to the side of my face. “You mean to tell me that asshole hasn’t gotten over me walking out on him? He fucking hit me, for God’s sake.”

  My temper boils as I grip her hips tight. “Don’t like fucking talkin’ about that.”

  “Baby, I know.” Her eyes bore into mine. “I thought he was man enough to get over it.”

  I shake my head. “No. He’s coming for us. We need to batten down the hatches.”

  She leans in and presses her lips to mine. I deepen it. Even almost thirty years later, this woman still makes me hard as granite.

  I will kill that motherfucker.

  I exit Pops’ office and head directly to our room. We’ve had this same spot since we got together. It still feels like home, even after all this time.

  I quickly make my way to the bathroom, shutting then locking the door. My body begins to tremble as I move to the toilet, put the seat down, and sit. It isn’t fear. No, what’s hitting me is anger. The fiery stuff that says everything I touch will blow. Instead of letting it, I sit on the commode, breathing in and out slowly.

  “I don’t want to be with you,” I tell Ransom.

  He came to my home unannounced, and I don’t want him in my space. I rent a small place, needing to get out from under my parents’ thumb. I like it here. It’s quiet, but not at the moment as Ransom’s voice picks up.

  “You’re fucking with me until I say different, Tink,” he barks. I always hated that name. I am not a small, fragile fairy.

  I cross my arms over my chest, standing in my doorway and blocking his path to enter. “No, you don’t make my decisions.”

  Being with Ransom for the past few months has been interesting, to say the least. At first, I thought he was something special, but as the days ticked by, the real him started to come out, and I didn’t like what I saw. The demands were downright mean sometimes. While I like the whole “knowing himself” thing, Ransom takes it to a level that isn’t healthy for either of us.

  I knew then I needed to leave, so I did. Unfortunately, Ransom doesn’t feel the same. Even though I told him flat out that I didn’t want to be with him anymore, he’s back. Again. I think this makes the fourth time he’s come back.

  He slams his hands into the door. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you, you little slut?”

  While I’ve not screwed Pops, we have spoken a few times. Not going to lie, we talked on the phone before I was fully released from Ransom. Regardless, I never did anything more than talk to him. For Ransom to accuse me of sleeping with him proves he doesn’t really know me. Probably never did.

  Whenever I went out with Ransom, I always felt like arm candy, never a real person. My self-respect runs stronger than that, and I refuse to be with someone who doesn’t see me for me.

  “I did not. Leave,” I order.

  Ransom doesn’t budge. Instead, rage slices across his face, and fear snakes through my gut.

  I move to shut the door, desperate to put a barrier between us, but he keeps it open.

  “You fucking bitch,” he roars, his fist coming out and plowing into the left side of my face.

  My head snaps hard as I fall to the ground. I have never been hit before, especially by a man. The sting, the burn, the shock, the throbbing ache building below the skin’s surface—it all shakes me from the inside all the way out. This is worse than anything I’ve ever felt. My eye stings, and I feel wetness beneath my fingertips.

  I scurry backward as Ransom steps in, towering over me. “Seems I need to teach you a lesson.” He kicks me hard with his booted foot in the leg, and I yelp.

  As he bends down, I fight with everything in me to get away from him, but he gets ahold of me, pulling me up by my hair.

  “Please … don’t,” I beg him, but he laughs.

  “You want to be a whore, Tink? I’ll treat you like one.” He slaps me hard across the mouth, and my lip splits from the blow.

  I taste the copper of my blood as I swallow and run my tongue over my teeth to make sure none have been jarred loose. Then I hit, kick, and scratch with everything in me, getting in a few licks. One is enough for him to let me go briefly. It isn’t long enough, though. His body is on top of mine. One of his big hands has my arms locked down while he holds me down with his hips.

  I register each punch and smack as they come, trying to fight but being subdued. I close my eyes, hoping for it to end, wanting the pain to stop. Then, suddenly, it does.

  I open my eyes to see Pops picking Ransom up by his neck and throwing him out the door of my home. Pops doesn’t look back at me. No, his focus is solely on Ransom.

  “Aw, come to save your little fuck toy?” Ransom teases. “She needs a real man.”

  “A fucking man, huh? Could’ve fooled me. Beatin’ up a woman. That says pussy in my book,” Pops says.

  “Fuck you. Only pussy here is you,” Ransom retorts.

  Pops charges Ransom, his shoulder hitting Ransom’s gut and pushing him to the ground. I try to keep track of what’s going on, moving closer to the door, but all I see is two men beating each other to a pulp. Pops has blood running down his face from his eye, and Ransom has a busted lip and brow.

  I want to stop them, but I know I can’t. I’m just thankful that Ransom is away from me.

  Somehow, Pops gets the upper hand and lands three blows in quick succession to Ransom’s head. Ransom’s body falls limp to the ground. Holy shit, did he just kill him? Please no …

  Pops stands over Ransom, looking down at him, then spits on him. He strides to me, the look on his face fierce, but as he takes me in, they soften.

  “Where are you hurt?”

  I don’t hesitate to answer. “My head and side.”

  “Let me call the boys,” he says,
and I step to the side, letting him into my home before closing the door and locking it. Even though I’ve only known him for a few weeks, something about Pops makes me trust him.

  “In the kitchen,” I call out.

  He grabs the phone and starts dialing.

  I feel the blood running down my face, so I tell him, “I’ll be back,” and move to the bathroom.

  As I look at my face in the mirror, tears well. My eyes are starting to swell, and I have three cuts on my face. With trembling hands, I wash my face, knowing I should use soap, but the thought of the burn takes me away from it.

  The water in the sink swirls red then pink then clear. I grab a towel and blot my face gently. Looking back in the mirror, I vow to myself that I will never let another man treat me the way Ransom did tonight.

  There were no other men to treat me that way, because I grabbed on to Pops, or he grabbed on to me, whichever way you look at it. We’ve been together ever since that night. While I probably should have been scared of him, I never have been and never will be. That man would lay down his life for me in a moment. I love him to the depths of my soul. Not only did he give me two beautiful children, but also a lifetime of smiles and laughs.

  Then this asshole tries to come and take all of that away? Not happening. I support my man one hundred percent and will do what I have to in order to help him in any way possible.

  I blot the water off my face. The shakes still have me as I look in the mirror. I had my moment. Now it’s time for action. I have a club that needs to be ready for guests. No man will ever come after me again. More to the point, no man will ever hurt my family.

  I straighten my spine and head out to make sure of just that.

  I fell asleep last night on the couch while the movie kept playing, but I wake up in Buzz’s room with a very warm man wrapped around me. Man, I’ve missed him.

  I haven’t physically seen him in way too long, and my body hums being this close. And my heart … Well, I’m ignoring it because, if I don’t, I’ll end up getting hurt at the end of all of this. And I’m Bella Stenger; I don’t get hurt. No, the hurt of losing my father was enough for me to never allow myself to be hurt again.