MARRIED TO MY MASTER

by Nicole Fox

  He stood from the bed as I went on my ramblings. He walked over toward me, putting his hands on my shoulders. He made me look at him—as if I could really look anywhere else. He was massive and a force to be reckoned with.

  “Ana. You look me in the eye and you tell me right now that you actually believe that shit coming out of your mouth,” he said. I had never had him speak to me like that, ever. He was always so ...

  “Grizzly—”

  He pressed a kiss to my mouth. I almost let myself melt into it and give in. It’d have been the easy way out, I think. But I couldn’t go easy. I pushed him away.

  “Grizzly, please—”

  Several things happened at once.

  I heard the sound before Grizzly did. There was a ‘pop, pop, pop’ in the background, as if it came from outside, and the sound of something shattering. Then there was a lot of shattering. Yelling started. It dawned on us at the same time, and as the glass of our motel room broke, Grizzly had me on the floor, pinned down.

  “Stay down!” he ordered.

  Our motel room was being pelted with bullets. I looked up in time to see holes littering the wall before Grizzly’s hand covered my eyes.

  My ears rang and my heart pounded in my chest. This was just like five years ago. Just like the last time. I felt the panic from the morning mounting.

  “It’s gonna be okay, Ana. It’s gonna be okay. Don’t worry, all right? It’s gonna be okay.”

  I wasn’t so sure.

  # # #

  Grizzly

  As soon as there was some sort of lull in the gunfire, I jerked Ana up from the floor, dragging her to the door.

  “My bag—!”

  “Leave it!”

  She didn’t argue with me as I pulled us into the hallway. Other Butchers were pouring out of their rooms, having the same idea.

  “Form up!” I yelled.

  Other motel guests were panicking, spilling out. There was fucking chaos everywhere, but I had one, singular focus.

  Ana.

  I needed to get her out of there. The boys would follow. They knew what they were doing. But I had an idea about what Ana’s nightmare from the night before was, and I knew that this wasn’t going to be good for her. I practically dragged her to my bike, slung her on, and hightailed out of there before anything more could happen to her.

  We had a couple of safehouses scattered around, for safe measure. Every Butcher knew where each one was, so that if something went down, they could go to it without any trouble, no matter where they were. Our closest one was about an hour away, doing a decent speed. I zipped through town, getting there in about twenty flat, with barely a quarter tank to spare when I pulled up.

  It was an old farmhouse and had belonged to the family of a Skinner boy—when we were still the Skinners and not the Butchers. The family let us put it to good use, knowing that we would get some utility out of it, considering they were packing up and getting the hell out of dodge after their boy was killed.

  A couple of the boys had already arrived. They were sitting out in front of the house, on edge. They looked more at ease when I pulled up.

  “Boss!” Kid waved over to us as I skidded to a halt. He had some blood on his face, but I didn’t think it was his. He was in too chipper a mood for it to have come from him, though that made me wonder.

  “How many?” I asked. Jet answered.

  “We know of at least three injured, out of the people that are here. More that ain’t arrived yet. Jonesy checked in and said more were riding on their way. I don’t think anyone died, though.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Hey, she okay?”

  I looked over my shoulder. Ana hadn’t gotten off of my bike yet. She was still on it, leaned over on the handle bars for support as if she were about to pass out.

  “You guys go in. No use staying out here. I’ll bring her in. In the meantime, watch out and listen in for anyone else who needs to come here.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  When they went inside, I went over to Ana. She was pale. Shaking. She breathed in deeply and exhaled shakily. She was on the verge of a panic attack, I could see it.

  “Ana—”

  “Just give me a minute.”

  “But—”

  “Grizzly, please.”

  She was saying a lot of that lately, but I backed off. I didn’t want to upset her more than she already was. I almost reached out to touch her, to brush her hair from over her shoulder, but I didn’t. I didn’t even know if it was okay to comfort her when it had apparently not been okay to have sex with her—that was another big thing that would eventually need to be tackled, but I wasn’t sure if or when that was going to happen, so I pushed it off as ‘later.’

  When she finally got her breathing right, she looked up at me.

  “There a spare room in there I can lay down in until it’s time to leave?”

  “Yeah, you can have mine—”

  “A spare room that no one else is going to be in, preferably.”

  I pursed my lips. I wanted to argue, but something told me that that would get us nowhere. Instead, I nodded.

  “Yeah. Sure. Follow me.”

  I led Ana into the house. It was just like a normal family home—if a normal family home had a living room full of busted-up and tired-looking biker boys, the scent of gun powder, and new blood stains on the furniture.

  The boys looked at us curiously as I led Ana in without a word. I think they all knew better than to say anything right now. Some were too busy tending to wounds—theirs or someone else’s—to pay that much attention, too. I brought her to one of the guest rooms.

  “Are you su—”

  “This is fine. Just tell me when it’s time to leave, please.”

  I let Ana close the door on me, and it felt just like it had years ago when I realized that she had left.

  Back downstairs, more people were arriving, in various states of injury. Luckily, as the last of the boys rolled in, no one had been killed. Bullet wounds aside, I counted that as a plus.

  Everyone who could gathered in the living room. I stood, addressing everyone.

  “Anyone get a good look at the fuckers who did this?”

  “Nah, boss.”

  “Seriously?”

  “They didn’t wear no kuttes! They were just in all black. Never seen ‘em before.”

  “Nobody who looked like they belonged with the Hogs? The Twisters? The Gunners?”

  “No, boss. Honestly, I don’t think we know who they were.”

  That was concerning to me. We kept beef with other MCs to a minimum, and at the very least, we avoided resorting to guns—but it happened, because that was the nature of the life. But we didn’t get ourselves tangled up in shit so deeply that we ended up with ambushes.

  This felt too much like five years ago felt. Except the clean up was in my hands. I was President. These were my boys. And—as much as she was apparently denying it right now—Ana was my girl. At least a girl under my protection.

  “We’ll set up a watch with the people who are still able in case the fuckers who did this decide to come on rolling by,” I said finally. “When we get back to base, we’ll figure everything out from there. Until then, sit low and hang tight.”

  There was a sound of approval from everyone, and I left them to go to the kitchen. I was tempted to get a drink, but I needed to keep all of my wits about me, and I needed to be levelheaded.

  Out of all the MCs in the area, there were none that I didn’t have some sort of issue with. But after the big war that had wiped out my MC ... Well. No one wanted to repeat that. We had rules. We butted heads, yeah, but we didn’t fuck up like this.

  So it was an outside source, I reasoned. Outside our usual dealings.

  But who? And why the fuck had they decided to strike now?

  Chapter Eight Ana

  I didn’t know how long I slept, only that it wasn’t very good sleep. I was woken up with a soft knock at the bedroom door and
a young voice calling in.

  “Hey, Miss Ana?” It was Kid. “Hey, Griz says it’s time to round up and go. We’re heading home.” I rolled over as the door cracked open, seeing Kid’s face peek in. He really did remind you of a kid. He smiled warmly, his face a little stained with blood. I hoped it wasn’t his. “Sorry, I know you’re probably dead fuckin’ tired, but we’re about to put tires to the ground in like …five minutes.”

  “Thanks for telling me, Kid. I’ll be right down.”

  He smiled brightly.

  “No problem. I’ll tell the boss man, all right?”

  He popped away before I could answer him.

  I honestly hoped that he was able to stay that light hearted. He seemed like a good kid.

  I didn’t linger too long in the room. I rolled out of the bed, straightened it up so it wouldn’t be left a mess, and went down the stairs. There were only a couple of people left downstairs. I could see through the open front door that most of them had already gone outside, waiting at their bikes. Grizzly was out there, too, sitting on his, waiting expectantly.

  My heart jumped when I saw him. There was that urge again—to go to his arms and stay there. But after the motel ... I was already making plans to distance myself from the Butchers and from Grizzly. It was obviously the best solution. I didn’t know when I would be able to do it, but I would have to make my intentions very clear to Grizzly.

  The idea hurt more than it felt good.

  I walked over to him, weary. He looked up as he heard me approach, though he wore no expression on his face. I didn’t know if he was still upset with me or bitter or—hell if I knew. I wasn’t going to go there.

  “Hey. Kid said we were getting ready to roll out?”

  “Yup. I want to get back before nightfall.”

  “Smart.”

  There was nothing else to be said, and I climbed on the back of Grizzly’s bike. With a roaring thunder, the Butchers and I were on the move again.

  # # #

  The town was just like I had remembered it. Very little had changed in the five years that I had been gone, and the nostalgia of seeing how much I still remembered was tainted with bitterness. There was the school that I had gone to when I was a kid. There was the ice cream parlor that Rodent and I hung out in from time to time. Family owned businesses and local shops—I remembered all of them, exactly where they were.

  As we rode through, I held tight to Grizzly, as if I could squeeze the memories of this place out of myself and push them into him instead. There was a reason that I hadn’t come back in five years. Everything reminded me of what I had left behind and of the life that I thought that I could have. Of the loss that I suffered. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to get on the back of Grizzly’s bike; his safety net was only cast so wide.

  Of course, it was too late now. I was already here, and I couldn’t leave until I had the means to do so. Good thing I had a whole hell of a lot of gumption.

  “Hey,” I called, deciding to train my thoughts elsewhere. “Where’s the new clubhouse? Are you ... are you still using the old one?”

  “Huh?” Grizzly glanced over his shoulder. “Nah. We started completely new. From scratch. We figured that would help the whole new-start thing. We did keep some stuff from the old clubhouse, though, before the city got rid of it.”

  “They got rid of it?”

  “Yeah. We can stop by there if you want to see, but it’s just an empty plot of land right now.”

  “No ... no that’s fine. I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  “Mkay.”

  Silence fell between us again, and I mulled on that. The city had completely leveled the old clubhouse. I was surprised that the Butchers had let that happened, but perhaps I wasn’t the only one who was trying to bury bad blood and old, sad feelings.

  We pulled up to the clubhouse not too much longer after that. It was set off the main road by a gravel drive, and it was a decent size, with a big enough lot that it could house all the bikes under ownership of the Butchers. It was a homey thing, almost styled like one of those old-time cabins, and had a hand-made sign that said The Butchers on it. I looked up at the structure with an impressed gaze when we came to a stop and I got off of Grizzly’s bike.

  “Wow,” I breathed.

  “Yeah, right? It’s our pride and joy now. Hell of a lot more good that’s come from here than bad, too. Come on. Let’s go inside. I think everyone’s ready for a drink and some rest.”

  I followed Grizzly in, and we were followed by the other Butchers. The lower half of the clubhouse was fashioned like a bar and the few bikes that had been outside when we pulled in had owners who were already sitting up at the bar, getting their drinks poured by a couple of cute girls.

  “Hey—shit. The fuck happened to ya’ll?” An older man in a Butcher kutte had turned around, looking at Grizzly with a raised brow.

  “Long story,” Grizzly said with a sigh. “We’ll get to it later.”

  “Long story. Heh. I bet, long story. And who’s this little lady?” The man’s attention turned to me. I smiled at him politely.

  “I’m Ana. I’m an old friend of Grizzly’s.” The man tilted his head at that information, as if that were interesting. His eyes then fell to my neck, and it seemed to dawn on him—though it was nice of him to not comment. He merely smiled knowingly and turned his attention to Grizzly.

  “Well, good thing she’s your friend then, huh? She’d be eaten up if she were a new club girl. You staying in town, Grizzly’s friend?”

  I nodded. “For now, at least,” I said.

  “Oh?” The man looked curiously between the two of us. “Not staying long?”

  I avoided looking at Grizzly as I answered.

  “Hadn’t planned on it. Just here until I get on my feet a little. I move around a lot.”

  “Well, it’ll be good seeing such a pretty friend of Grizzly’s around. You take care. I’m Freddy, by the way.”

  “Nice to meet you, Freddy. I’m Ana.”

  “Likewise.”

  Freddy smiled at me, and Grizzly steered me away, down toward the hall and a set of stairs. I could feel the tension as we ascended them. I figured I would be the one to break the tension instead of letting it go on and on.

  “Grizzly—”

  “Not planning on staying long? When did you decide that?” he asked, cutting me off. My agitation flared again.

  “I never said I was going to stay forever when I agreed to get on the back of your bike, Grizzly.”

  “Yeah. Right.”

  I frowned at him, saying nothing. There was no point, and Grizzly clearly didn’t understand. How could he even think that after what had just happened, barely hours ago, that I would want to stay here? Long term? I should have known that coming here would have been a bad idea anyway, but that was my fault for thinking that maybe—

  “At least stay here,” he said, stopping us randomly at the top of the stairs. “At the clubhouse. At least until we figure out the shit from today.”

  I shook my head.

  “Wouldn’t it be better for me to not be here? Surrounded by all this ... club stuff? If today is any indication of what’s going on around here?”

  “This hasn’t happened since I took over,” he said, defensively. “This is the first time since the Skinners were decimated that we’ve been attacked like this. I don’t know who would have done it—”

  “All the more reason for me to not be here—”

  “I can protect you here,” he insisted. “And you’ve been seen with us already. They’ll already know—or think—you’re with us.”

  I scoffed. “You can’t prove that anyone from whoever the hell it was you attacked you saw me with you today.”

  “And you can’t prove that they didn’t. You have no way of knowing if they think you’re involved or not. You have no way of knowing whether or not they’re gonna be trying to look into you or follow you, or what—”

  “I get it.”

  I
stared up at him for a moment. There was a part of me that wanted to deny—if I was going to put down roots here, even temporary roots, it was dumb to try and put them down at an MC that was experiencing troubles.

  But if I left …if there really was someone following and watching …