by Khloe Wren
The way Bulldog talked, it sounded like the whole fucking club had been speculating. Were they seriously all that fucking bored?
“Don't be stupid. She just had some hero worship thing going on when she first came to town. She got over that.”
Or rather, I'd broken her of that. I could still remember clearly the six weeks she'd lived under my roof. Could remember that final day when I'd woken up to find her beneath me in my bed. With my fucking hand wrapped around her throat. I'd had another fucking nightmare and Marie, with her big heart, had tried to wake me from it, and not realizing it was her, I’d tried to kill her. Two days later she moved out.
“Even you have to realize how fucking wrong you are on that score. And what about you? How do you feel about her? Because, brother, you've left that woman―a good woman―on the shelf for over twenty years. She's not gonna stay there forever, especially if you pull shit like asking her to employ one of your past lays.”
“She's nine fucking years younger than me. I'm too old for her.”
I threw back my whiskey before I poured another one.
“Still not hearing the answer I'm looking for.”
Huffing out a breath I looked up and locked my gaze with Bulldog. Bulldog, who was happily married. Bulldog, who'd gotten his shit together young and now had a family, an old lady, a niece/surrogate daughter, and now a grandson.
“I've wanted her from the first instant I saw her. That's never changed. But the other thing that's also never changed? I'm not good enough for her. I'm too fucked up to settle down.”
Bulldog shook his head as a look of sadness filled his gaze.
“First, that nine years might have made a difference when she was eighteen, but the woman's over forty now. Nine years is fucking nothing, and you know it. And you're one of the best men I know. The nightmares and shit you had back then have settled down these days, right?”
I nodded. After I'd woken up with my fingers wrapped around Marie's throat, I'd sucked it up and gone to the head doc. Went through all the counseling and came out on the other side being able to fucking sleep. I still had the odd dream, but nothing compared to what I'd been suffering before I'd gone to get help.
“It would still be dangerous for her to be associated with me. Being president comes with risks. I care for her enough, I don't want to see her fucking hurt.”
“Seriously? The entire club, and most of the town, has considered that woman your old lady for years. You eat more often in her cafe than you do at home, she comes to the clubhouse for the family parties. She's currently in as much danger as she would be if you claimed her ass. I know there's been several men over the years attempt to make a move on her that one of our brothers has dealt with.”
That had me jerking in my seat. “You telling me she's been single all this time because our brothers have made sure it was that way? Fuck, man. How does she not hate me?”
“No fucking clue, brother. Not many women would have hung around this long. Do us all a favor and man the fuck up, Scout, and go get your woman. Haven't you both waited long enough already?”
Unable to think of an answer, I lifted my glass to suck back my drink. Lost in my head, I barely noticed Bulldog leave, closing the door behind himself. Had she really been waiting on me all these years? Because, I'd never admit it out loud, but every one of the club whores I fucked, I imagined it was her I was doing. Ever since the first day when Ron woke me up at five in the fucking morning to deliver his foster daughters into my care. Fuck. I'd done such a great job of that, hadn't I? I had no fucking clue where Sarah was anymore. Hadn't for years now. She'd not stayed living in my house long. Less than a month before she'd found her own place. She'd made it clear that bikers scared her and she wanted nothing to do with any of us. When I'd made it clear to her she was free to leave but that she couldn't ever return to Galveston so long as the Iron Hammers ruled down there, she'd told me not to worry, she'd never go south again. When I'd passed that on to Ron, he'd told me to leave her be. That he'd expected her to take off. In fact, he'd been waiting for her to do just that for months before they went to the party that turned their lives upside down.
And look where Marie was, thanks to me. Sure, I'd helped her get work, then helped again when she wanted to set up her own cafe. Of course I helped her move out after I nearly killed her. And then what? She'd pined after me for the next twenty five years? While every time some man showed any interest in her, my boys ran them off. How the fuck could I have not noticed that had been going on? I should have been firmer with her back at the start, and with the club.
She could do better.
She deserved better.
Fuck. It would kill me to watch her with another man. I winced and filled my glass again. I was such an asshole. If the mere thought of her with another man had me wanting to go shoot someone, how the fuck had she felt over the years knowing I was here fucking all the wet and willing that paraded through this place?
Bulldog was wrong. I wasn't a good man. Fuck, I'd been doing one hell of a number on the only woman, aside from my mother, who'd ever mattered to me. That made me a first rate bastard, nothing more.
CHAPTER 2
Marie
“Ah, Marie? Are you doing okay?”
I stopped for a moment from settling the fourth pie into the display fridge to turn to Zara.
“I'm just fine, sugar. Why'd you ask?”
She looked from me to the pies, then back to my face. “We don't normally have that many different options, especially this late in the week. And I've been working for you long enough to know what that level of baking means. Did Scout pull some stupid stunt again?”
My cheeks heated. Dammit. Was I that transparent? Probably best to just gloss right over that question of hers.
“So, we've got a new girl coming in today.”
Zara stiffened and her shoulders rose. “Are you replacing me? Because if you need me to work more days, I can. Cleo's settling nicely into a routine now, and Mac can get some of the others to help out at the gym so he can watch her more often.”
Placing the cake in its place I turned back toward Zara with both palms up to stop her. With her cataplexy, she'd give herself an attack if she got any more worked up. “Whoa. I'd never replace you. Not ever. Scout's asked me to take on Mercedes. I thought it might be nice to have another person trained up. Means each of us can take a little time off here and there, right?”
She put a palm to her chest as she chuckled. “Way to scare the shit outta me, Marie. Damn. Guess that explains the pies too, huh? Are you really okay having Mercedes here? I mean, you know, considering what she was...”
Stupid tears pricked my eyes, but I refused to let even one fall.
“It's not her fault Scout's a manwhore. It was his choice to go to her.” Not me. I silently added.
Zara came over to me and wrapped her arms around me and hugged me to her for a few moments.
“I've met her once or twice. She's always been really sweet to everyone. And Tiny certainly seems happier now she's back and with him. And if it makes you feel better, once Tiny took a shine to her―which was pretty much as soon as he saw her―the others all left her alone, so I doubt Scout was with her often.”
“Sugar, you know I love you as though you were my daughter, right?”
She nodded.
“You need to just leave this alone. Scout and me, well, we're what we'll always be and there's nothing that's gonna change things.”
And wasn't that the truth. Nothing I'd done over the years had gotten me that man's attention. It was time I stepped away from him and the club. Well, as much as I could with the way they all came in here on the regular, anyhow. It was in moments like this that I missed Sarah. She would have dragged me out years ago to maybe Houston or Dallas, where we would be able to meet men who weren't so scared of Scout and the Charons that they wouldn't even talk to us. Maybe I should go away by myself. Zara could open and close for me, and if Mercedes proved useful, they'd easily be ab
le to handle a Saturday on their own. I could head up to Houston for a weekend away. Go out, maybe meet a man, have some fun. Get laid. Hell, it had been so long I wondered if my body had forgotten what it even was. At least, when it didn't involve a vibrator. The few men I'd tried to go out with over the years had run for the hills as soon as they learned I was tangled up with the Charons. I was pretty sure one of the boys had words with each of the men and made them run off, but I couldn't prove it. If I'd been able to work out who'd spoken up, I'd have had some pretty nasty words of my own to say to them.
“Um, Marie? Whatcha plotting?”
“Nothing much. Just thinking a weekend up in Houston to celebrate my birthday next Sunday might be nice. Think you can handle the place Saturday?”
Her eyes widened, like I'd shocked her. Probably had. Anyone that knew me, knew I didn't ever leave town for anything.
“Of course I can. But I didn't realize it was your birthday! We should throw you a party at the clubhouse.”
I shook my head. “No, that's not necessary at all. I don't need some party. But a nice, relaxing weekend away might be good. No biker chaperones either, missy.”
I gave Zara a firm look, knowing full well the woman would tell her man, Mac, who'd tell Scout, who'd put freaking guards on me and ruin my fun before I could find any.
Zara slowly nodded, and thankfully before she could come up with something to say, the door swung open and a petite girl of Mexican heritage slipped in, looking nervous. Alongside was her huge, muscled, biker body guard, Tiny. Guess this was Mercedes.
“Hey, Marie! Zara. Thanks so much for giving Mercedes this chance.”
I'd met Tiny many times before, but I'd never seen him with a woman. He was really sweet with Mercedes. A little clingy for my taste, but clearly it was fine with Mercedes.
“Can always use good workers, Tiny. So, Mercedes, tell me what skills you have that I can use.”
I really hoped she wouldn't say anything about what she used to do at the clubhouse. I didn't think I could keep a straight face if she did.
“Ah, um. I worked in the kitchen at the commune. Prep work, serving, cleaning up. Your coffee machine looks way fancier than anything I've ever used before, but I'm a fast learner and a hard worker. I won't make you regret giving me a chance, I promise.”
That made me smile. Mercedes might be little and petite, but she was a fighter under the surface. Clearly she knew nothing about whatever the fuck was between me and Scout, which was a relief. We could all just move right along without even touching the subject.
“Sounds like you'll fit in here just fine. Tiny? You heading off so I can get to showing your girl the ropes, or what?”
Over the years, I'd discovered these Charon men needed to be told firmly what they needed to do. If I didn’t get rid of him, Tiny would sit in here all day, which would most likely leave Mercedes a nervous mess.
Tiny gave me a smirk before he gave his girl a kiss goodbye and headed out the door.
“You've met Zara before, right?”
She nodded. “Yeah, at the clubhouse.”
“Great. Right, well, let's start with a tour, shall we? Then I'll show you how to use that fancy coffee machine.”
A broad grin tugged at my lips as I showed the girl around. She and Zara joked and made small talk between customers and by the time the day was over I was confident she'd be a great addition to my little cafe. And that I was going to be able to take my weekend away without a worry about how the cafe would fare without me.
Once I got home, I made quick work of looking up a list of hotels in Houston. When I found a nice, fancy one that had a spa on site, I called and booked myself in. The more I thought about it, a weekend of massages, pampering, no bikers and a night out sounded like heaven. It wasn't like I was hurting for money after working all these years and not doing much with my life. What I needed was to start to live life. Maybe I should book myself in to a hair salon while I was away, get a new look. Maybe go shopping and update my wardrobe. Was a new car too much? I shook my head. Yes, a new car was taking it too far. Zara would accuse me of having a midlife crisis and I'd never hear the end of it.
Feeling positive about my plans, I hummed my way through cooking myself dinner before I sat down to eat it in front of the TV.
It was way past time I started actually living my life.
Scout
After spending the last two days busy working my ass off on a bike rebuild, I was having a few relaxing Friday night beers with Bulldog, Keys and a few of the other brothers at the clubhouse when Mac came rushing in. Sipping my beer I watched him scan the room before his gaze settled on me and stayed there.
“Ah, fuck. Wonder what's happened now?”
Bulldog spoke my thoughts as Mac came barreling over to us and took a seat beside us.
“What the fuck is going on with Marie?”
Bulldog started chuckling and I took another drink, ignoring my VP.
“Nothing. Why?”
“Bullshit, it's nothing. Earlier in the week, dumbass here asked Marie to take on Mercedes as a waitress, without any consideration of how the woman would feel about employing a woman he used to fuck.”
Mac winced at Bulldog's explanation before he spoke.
“So you haven't been into her cafe since then?”
I set my bottle down and leaned forward, starting to get worried. “No, figured she could use some space. Why?”
“Well, yesterday was the first time I've ever seen four different types of pie on the menu. Does that seem unusual to you?”
I frowned over at Mac, ignoring the next round of snickering coming from Bulldog. Some best friend he was tonight. “Well, yeah. But as Bulldog's already pointed out, I pissed her off. She bakes to vent. That alone shouldn't have you here all riled up on a Friday night. What the fuck is going on?”
“It's her birthday on Sunday, and to celebrate, she's decided on a weekend away from Bridgewater. Zara's worried about her, told me she didn't seem like her normal self when she spoke about taking tomorrow off and heading out. Marie also told Zara that she didn't want any biker chaperones on her trip.”
Ah, fuck. I was terrible with dates, but my phone had reminded me that her birthday was coming up. I'd wondered about surprising her by taking her out for dinner, maybe talk to her about what the fuck was going on between us. The thought of her out in the world on her own, with no protection, didn't sit well with me.
“When's she leavin'? And where is she fucking running off to?”
Mac shook his head. “No clue, prez. Zara only admitted to me that she was going this afternoon because she needs me at home tomorrow to look after Cleo while she runs the cafe for the day.”
I pulled out my phone and hit speed dial to call her mobile. When it rang out and went to voicemail, I put away my phone and looked to Keys, our resident tech head. “Find out where the hell my woman is, Keys.”
With a nod, he took off toward my office where he kept a laptop.
“She technically ain't yours, Scout. You've got no right to keep her from leaving town.”
I glared at Bulldog, my supposed friend. “In the twenty-five years she's been living in town, you know how many times that woman has ventured outside of Bridgewater? Twice. That's it.” Despite still being terrified of the Iron Hammers, when each of her foster parents had passed away, she'd gone to the funeral. I'd gone with her to make her feel safer, so I'd seen how the woman was a nervous wreck when she left the safety of our town.
“That was before we cleaned out the Iron Hammers. She's safe now. Even if those bastards who took her were still around, they'd never recognize her now. It's been over twenty years and they only had her for a few hours. There's no active threat to us right now. Relax and let the woman spread her wings a little.”
Even though he had some good points, I didn't fucking care.
“She's mine to fucking protect. How exactly am I supposed to do that when I don't even know where the fuck she is?”
Instead of anyone answering me, they all just looked at me with pity in their eyes. I stood with a curse, to head to my office. Hopefully Keys had an answer for me already.
He looked up at me as I stormed into my office, slamming the door behind me.
“Please tell me you know where the fuck she is.”
“Not yet. Nearly there, though.”
I readjusted my bandana as I paced my office. “How you tracking her down exactly?”
“Her phone right now, then I'll check her car. Remember? I've got GPS trackers on all the girls’ phones and vehicles. I don't use them unless I have to, and I sure as hell don't look 'em up for the hell of it. But it helps me sleep at night to know I've got a chance of finding them if some fool decides to take one of them. If you recall, it sure as fuck helped when Zara got snatched.”
I shuddered as I remembered what we'd found when we caught up with Zara. Poor woman was barely alive. Fuck, if anything had happened to Marie I’d tear through anyone who had dared touch her.
“Considering we have no reason to assume anything other than Marie is fine and just having a weekend away, what exactly are you planning on doing once we find her?”
I stopped pacing, and after adjusting my bandana again, faced Keys. “I guess I'm gonna go make sure that she’s okay. Then watch over her till she comes home.”
Keys nodded then sat back from his laptop, staring hard at me.
“What if she's with a man? On a date.”
A growl vibrated up my throat before I could call it back. My vision actually turned a little red for a moment at the fury that flowed over me at the thought of her spending the weekend with some other fucker.
“Well, I guess that answers that question. I know you're my president, but you're also my friend. As is Marie, so I'm going to be straight with you on this. If you do not intend on stepping up to fucking claim her, I'm not letting you go check on her. I'll head up there with Arrow, see how she's doing, and go from there. You've had that woman chasing your fucking tail for over twenty years. It's time for you make a fucking decision and quit being so fucking cruel to her.”