Not that that had been an option in the same universe as reality. That man was locked down tight. And happy. It was something to see. He deserved to be happy. Tasha had known Holly, Show’s first wife, very well. They were the same age, and they’d been pretty close for a time. Holly had never fit in the club life. She’d liked the respect being Show’s old lady had given her in town, but she had always felt second-fiddle to the club. It was the one part of Show she hadn’t been able to reach, and Tasha had seen the resentment and bitterness come on her. Holly hadn’t wanted to hear explanations; she hadn’t wanted to understand. Show wouldn’t give her the club, and that made Holly hateful.
Still, Tasha understood the way she’d reacted to what had happened to Daisy and to her. And to Rose and Iris, too, who’d been forced to witness it all. That was a horror greater than Tasha could fully comprehend, and she understood Holly wanting to get her children as far away as she could. She even understood why Holly had tried so hard to cut Show out. She didn’t agree, but she understood. The Horde had a way of pulling you back. If you wanted out, truly out, then only a clean, complete break would do.
And it was true—they’d sucked Tasha herself back in steadily over the past few years, and now here she was, about to spend a day in Signal Bend. With her Horde…boyfriend? And Show’s girls were in town, apparently, for the weekend. There was no way to get distance from the Horde but to flee it completely.
But then you lost the Horde.
Len was still staring balefully at her Ninja. “Why not a Harley, Doc? It’s like a slap.”
She laughed. So melodramatic. “No, it’s just a bike. Harleys are heavy and slow. Those fuckers weigh seven hundred to a thousand pounds. Even the little one they market to women weighs almost six hundred. If I drop a bike like yours, I’m screwed.”
“I’ll give you heavy. But they’re not slow. And we coulda customized a SuperLow for you, brought the weight down. But a Ninja? Man.”
“Are you saying you don’t want to ride with me?”
He looked her over, and she followed his eyes from her slim-cut jeans tucked into low-heeled, knee-high black boots, to her snug, plain black t-shirt with the deep v-neck. While he looked and she watched, she took her riding gloves out of her helmet and pulled them on, keeping her eyes on him.
By the time their eyes met, she could see his pupils were wide; he was turned on. “No, I’ll ride with you. You look good, by the way. What’s that you did to your hair?”
Like he really cared. Still, it was sweet that he’d noticed. “Fishtail braid. You ready?”
He nodded and mounted his own bike, which was parked two spots down from hers. “You know you’re gonna get heat for that ride, right? You’re ready for that?” He strapped his helmet on.
Her helmet already on, she left the visor up so he could hear her clearly. “You think they’re going to care about my bike when I’m walking around holding hands with you?”
His face broke into a beaming grin. “Holding hands? We goin’ steady, Doc?”
“We’re goin’ somewhere.”
“Yeah, we are. Try to keep up.”
She flipped him off and snapped her visor down, and they fired up their engines and pulled out of the garage.
~oOo~
They’d raced, of course, and the Ninja was faster. But he was bolder. Until they’d reached the county line, and then he’d pulled up and planted his needle at five miles over the limit. She’d followed suit; she knew enough to know that Sheriff Seaver was paying attention.
They’d come through town with Len in the lead and had come straight to the fair. Now he was on her as she was taking her helmet off, coming up behind her and enfolding her tightly, tucking his face against her neck.
“Okay,” he mumbled. “That was hot. Still a pussy bike, but you’ve got a great pussy, and I like the way your ass looks, bent over the bike like that.”
She tipped her head to his. “Which you saw because you were sucking my exhaust.”
“Just wanted you to feel like you were doing good, babe.”
“Right.”
He took her hand, lifting it up with a cheeky grin, and then led her into the fair.
It wasn’t much of a fair, really—just a few rides for the kids, a bunch of booths of food, some people selling crafts and t-shirts and things, fortune tellers and game booths, some live music, and all the usual attractions of a small, country town fair.
Len led her straight down the fairway, apparently following the strong scent of hot meat and grease, and Tasha knew exactly where he was headed. They’d passed plenty of local people as they walked, and plenty of heads turned—even people who didn’t know Tasha herself looked on with avid interest—but Len didn’t do more than nod a greeting here and there.
They did pass a couple of women, obviously club girls, who gave her looks of varying sharpness. One brassy redhead looked positively stunned. Tasha was momentarily tempted to turn back and get her name. But she didn’t want club whores in their bed. Ever. Not even if she felt sorry for one of them. Definitely not then.
They reached the Horde’s booth—a gigantic grill and a mountain of raw meat. When she was a girl, this Midsummer Fair had been a regular thing, and the Horde had run this exact same booth then, too. Probably the same damn grill. All the proceeds always went to some local cause. She looked up at the vinyl banner strung overhead; this year, they were paying into the Elsie Lenz Fund. She didn’t know who that was.
She’d intended to ask Len, but they’d been noticed, and Show was leaning over the table that served as their counter to give her a hug. Isaac, back by the grill with an older patch Tasha didn’t know at all, nodded. No sign of Havoc, but his wife had had their son only a couple of days ago, so she assumed they were home together.
When Show released her, he gave her a long, appraising look, then slid his eyes to Len and then back to her. He didn’t say anything, so she just shrugged and tried on a smile. He nodded a little. Show was a master of understatement and discretion. When he spoke, all he said was, “Good to see you here for pleasure, Tash. Been a while.”
“Yeah. Can’t stay away forever, I guess. Hey—where’s your brood? Len said you had a houseful this weekend.”
“Shannon and Lilli took all the kids over to the animals and the rides. They’re around, though. You’ll see ‘em.”
Len pulled on her hand. “C’mere, Doc. I don’t think you know all the Horde these days. He pulled her to the end of the table, where a cluster of younger men was standing. “You know Dom and Badge, right?”
Everybody nodded. “Hey, guys.”
From Badger—long, thick ponytail and full beard—she got “Ma’am.”
Dom—blond, rail-thin and ears at almost a ninety-degree angle to his head—said, “Hey.”
Then Len nodded at a bigger, maybe a little bit older, Horde she’d never seen before. He looked a lot like Len, actually. About six feet, very broad across the shoulders, clean shaven, his dark hair cropped close to his skull but not quite shaved. Len had worn it similarly before he’d gone grey; now he shaved it smooth. This new patch had a tough affect about him—nothing unusual about that—but when he met her eyes, he smiled, and that smile told her immediately that this was Tommy. That smile was anxious, and excited, and freaked out, and sweet, and a little predatory. Len had already talked to him.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She’d never brought someone to her bed that had been chosen by someone else. But she supposed that the tables were turning on her; Nadia had been their first bedmate, someone with whom she was comfortable but Len had not been.
She’d chosen Nadia to be their fourth. Len would have preferred Greta, Tasha thought, but Greta had a strong preference for women. It was only a preference, but she liked her men to be much more effeminate than a biker. Nadia liked Len. A little too much, actually. But Nadia would love Tommy. So that sealed the deal for Tasha, and she returned his smile before Len had a chance to introduce them.
“Yo
u must be Tommy. I’m Tasha.” She held out her hand, and he took it, a little awkwardly. He had a strong grip, but gentlemanly.
“Yeah. Hi. Nice to meet ya.”
“Oh, it definitely will be.”
Tommy’s eyes went wide and scared, and he yanked his hand from hers. Every other male eye in that circle, including those of a Prospect whom Len hadn’t bothered to introduce, turned to her. She could feel Len’s body stiffen at her side. Not sure what had just come over her, she turned and lamely tried to pretend that something on the fairway had caught her attention. Flirting with another Horde was bad form. Flirting while she was standing next to her man was—well, depending on the man, it could be downright dangerous. And she assumed—shit, she hoped—no one else in that group knew what they were up to, so what she’d said certainly looked really shitty and out of bounds. And she wasn’t even naturally a flirt under any circumstances. Shit.
“I’m going to check out the wares. I’ll see you guys later.” She shed herself of Len’s hand and headed down toward the farthest end of the row of vendors.
Len was right on her heels, grabbing her elbow and forcing her past most of the vendors. He took a turn between two enclosed booths—for lemon ices and funnel cakes—and pushed her against a plywood wall.
“What game you playin’, Doc?”
She didn’t even try to fight with him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I’m sorry. I really don’t know.”
“Fucking Christ. Fucking Christ. I’m so mad I feel like I’m having a heart attack or something. You know what mischief that shit’ll cause? What the fuck!” He slammed the side of his fist on the wall next to her head. The whole booth shimmied, and a head peeked around the back, looking cross. Seeing Len, the cross look evaporated and the head disappeared.
Len called out, “Sorry, Karl,” and then turned back to Tasha, his eyes fierce.
She was thoroughly chastened and more than a little worried. “I know. I know. I’m sorry. I just…I don’t know why I said it. I really don’t.”
“If you’re trying to push some point with me about the club, you need to fucking back off. You know how this goes, Tash. Don’t fuck with the club.”
Don’t fuck with the club. Of course she knew that. But she was getting a shouted lecture on it, anyway. Half an hour in Signal Bend, with the Horde, and she was already humiliated. But she’d fucked up. She still couldn’t believe she’d said that.
“I’m not. I’m really not. You know I understand. Len, I don’t know how to apologize or take it back. It was a stupid thing to say.”
“Sure was,” he sneered. “And it was stupider to run off like a little bitch.”
This was the first time in the thirty years they’d known each other that Len had ever been angry enough to be mean to her. She searched her heart for some fight, but there was none. He was right. She knew this world. And she’d crossed a thick line. So instead of fighting back, she dropped her head.
His hand curled under her chin and lifted her head back up. He was calmer; she could see him fighting for it—the map of the war was all over his face.
“Doc.” His voice was low and even gruffer than normal.
“I don’t know…Len, I don’t know if I can be okay here. Around the club. In Signal Bend. So much history. Too much. It’s like it’s all still fresh here, like I left it in cold storage or something when I stayed away. It makes me feel anxious. Fizzy.”
“‘Fizzy’?” He smiled a little. “That your medical opinion?”
She smiled back, relieved that the storm had passed. “Definitely. You can look it up.”
“You can be okay here, Tash. If you’re getting tangled up in history, then you need to turn around, babe. You’re looking backwards.” He bent down, bringing his mouth to hers, leaving nothing but a few molecules between them. “Turn around, babe. See me.”
Jesus. That was…romantic. And unbelievably sexy. Relief and arousal swelling in her veins, she sighed, the breath leaving with a soft moan, and he kissed her, a hand on her waist, pushing up under her top.
A male throat cleared, and Len pulled back. Dom was standing a few feet away, at the front of the little aisle between the booths. “Sorry, brother. Isaac’s lookin’ for you. Got a situation.”
“Here?”
“Yeah. Jimmy and George were fighting, caused a ruckus up at the tables. Got ‘em quiet, but a little girl got caught up in it, got hurt. Boss wants a lesson.”
“Fuck. Okay.” He pushed away from the wall
Tasha stepped forward, straightening her t-shirt. “How’s the girl hurt?”
“Got knocked down. Hit her head on a table. Bleeding pretty bad.”
“Okay.” She pulled her keys from her pocket and threw them to Dom; he caught them as if by reflex. “Do me a favor, Dom. Bright blue Ninja in the lot. There’s a kit in the box behind the seat. Would you bring it to me?”
“Sure.” He ran off down the fairway.
Tasha turned to Len, who was grinning. “Let’s go. You do your thing, I’ll do mine.”
~oOo~
Len and Badger hauled off the men who needed a lesson. The girl, who was only about six, was sitting in her mother’s lap. She’d been crying, but now was calm, sniffling. Her mother, who seemed very young, was holding a plastic grocery bag full of ice to her daughter’s head. There was a lot of blood.
Tasha came up and squatted at the mother’s knees. Smiling at the little girl sitting there, her blonde pigtails pink with blood, Tasha kept her voice soft. “Hi, honey. I’m a doctor. Can I take a look at your head?” She glanced up at the mother, who gave her a worried smile and moved the bag. The girl had a sizable gash and lump on her forehead. That was good, though—it looked bad, but a blow to the forehead was usually safer than a blow to the back or side of the head.
“I’m Dr. Tasha. What’s your name?”
The girl only sniffed in answer. Her mother said, “Ashlynne. She’s Ashlynne. I’m Brianna. Her mom. Everybody calls me Bree.”
Dom had moved quickly and was already at her side. She took her kit from him. “Okay, Ashlynne and Bree. Would it be okay if I got you cleaned up and tried to make you feel better?”
Ashlynne nodded soberly, and Tasha opened her kit and pulled out a pair of sterile gloves.
She was careful and gentle, as she always was, but she had only her little kit to work with, so had only a bit of topical numbing gel. The girl needed sutures to prevent a scar, but there was no way Tasha was going to stick a needle into her skin without better pain abatement. So she closed the wound with butterflies and snapped an instant ice pack, giving that to Bree to use instead of the unsanitary and leaky grocery bag.
Ashlynne was quiet and steady the whole time, only whimpering a little when Tasha swabbed the wound itself. With a focused attention, she watched Tasha work. That focus, and her clear, responsive pupils, indicated no concussion. She’d be fine.
“I don’t have any pretty Band-Aids like I need to use on your sore, but I do happen to have one of these.” She pulled a Hello Kitty bandage out of the bottom of the kit. Nadia got a kick out of giving her novelty first aid supplies as gifts. She thought it was hilarious; Tasha thought it was…Nadia. But she used them. “Would you like to wear it like a sticker?”
Ashlynne nodded and held out her arm. She had a little mosquito bite that she’d recently scratched open. Tasha put a dab of antibiotic ointment on it and covered it with Kitty.
As she packed up her kit, she looked at Bree. “She’s going to be okay. It might leave a scar, unless you can take her to get sutures. But there’s no sign of concussion. She should take it easy, though.” She smiled at Ashlynne. “Maybe have some ice cream and lie down on the sofa at home the rest of the day.”
Bree’s eyes darkened, and Tasha realized she’d overstepped. Bree muttered, “No money for ice cream.”
Still standing next to Tasha, Dom fished in his pocket and pulled out a fold of bills. He pulled two twenties off and handed them to Bree, who took t
hem with a smile and a nod.
“Thanks, Dom.”
“No sweat, Bree. I’ll walk you home. Then I’ll go out and get you some ice cream.” He leaned down and took Ashlynne from Bree’s lap. “You hold on to me, missy. Okay?”
Ashlynne nodded. Tasha stood, and Dom turned to her. “We okay to go?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Dom.”
The little trio took a few steps toward the fairway, and then Bree came back. “Thanks, Doctor. That was real nice.” Then she turned and trotted to catch up to Dom and her little girl. Tasha stood and watched them go, her closed kit clutched in her hand.
“Yeah. We’re setting you up in town. No question.”
Isaac was standing behind her. She turned around and looked up at him. “I haven’t figured out yet if I can make it work.”
“We’ll make it work. We’ll make it right. You’re needed.”
She knew the look in those intense green eyes. “Okay. We’ll make it work.”
He smiled and set his hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Yeah, we will.”
~oOo~
Later, with Len not yet back, she was sitting alone at a table at the far end of the eating area, drinking a beer and listening to the country cover band that was playing on the little stage. She wasn’t really listening. Mostly, she was thinking. About Signal Bend. Being a doctor. The Horde. Len. Isaac. Tangled in history. Looking backward. Len was right. But forward was little more than fog.
While she was lost in her thoughts, Lilli and Shannon came up. They were alone—neither Shannon’s stepdaughters nor Lilli’s children were tagging along.
Lilli smiled and sat down on the bench across from her. “Want some company?”
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