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Unfinished Business: A Bastards of Boston Novel

Page 33

by Carina Adams


  By a fantastic stroke of luck, I managed to avoid Barbie. I’d almost forgotten she was still in the city until late one Thursday afternoon in early October when she strode into Droplogic. I glanced up, a smile on my lips, ready to welcome whomever had walked through the door, when I realized who it was.

  My face fell as my eyes drifted over her. “Barbie,” I managed to spit out without sneering.

  “Princess!” Bright-red lips lifted in a fake smile. “I wasn’t sure you’d be here.” Then she glanced around the main room. “Is Nick around?”

  I snorted. “Oh, honey. You’re too young for him. He doesn’t date anyone under twenty-five.”

  She popped an eyebrow. “Oh, did you strike out?” Her mock concern ruffled me. Then she wrinkled her nose. “Or did he not realize how young you are because you look so much older?”

  “Cute. There’s only one bike I ride on.”

  “And who owns this bike?” She braced her elbow on the counter and leaned her chin against it, acting like my answer was the best piece of gossip she’d heard in months.

  God, she was annoying. “Rocker,” I clarified. “You remember my boyfriend, right? The guy I live with.”

  “Oh.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I didn’t realize he’d gotten a new one.”

  I refrained from rolling my eyes. Barely. Then I bit, knowing I was going to regret it. “A new one what?”

  “Harley.”

  “What are you talking about?” I demanded, my patience fleeing fast. “He already had a bike. Why would he need a new one?”

  “Because he sold his,” she said it like she thought everyone knew.

  I froze. I didn’t understand. I would’ve known if Rob had sold his bike. He was president of a motorcycle club. The key requirement for that job was to have a motorcycle.

  “Rob didn’t sell his Harley.”

  She looked at me like I was an idiot. “Okay.” Then she had the audacity to roll her eyes. “It’s not like it’s a big secret. He told me himself. But, whatever. Is Nick around or not?”

  I needed to call Rob but wasn’t going to do it in front of her.

  “We’re busy, Babs. What do you need?”

  “I’m here for a class.”

  I snorted, eyes roving over the halter top cut so low it barely kept her contained and didn’t hide much of anything.

  “You’re here to take a class?”

  She nodded.

  “Which one?” I demanded.

  “Oh, I don’t care. As long as Neo’s teaching. I hear he’s got the most amazing body ever.” She bit her lip. “Plus, it can’t hurt to spend some one-on-one time with him. He’s about to be patched in, ya know.”

  “Who told you that?”

  She shrugged like it was no big deal. “Rocker.”

  I clenched my jaw, keeping my mouth shut so I didn’t say anything I regretted. When I’d asked him, he’d told me he couldn’t discuss club business with me. I gave her a tight smile.

  “I’ll go get Nick for you.”

  I was a few feet away when she called for me. “You know how to get ahold of Katie, right?”

  I stopped dead and spun. “Why?”

  “I wanted to invite her to family night,” she explained, “but she’s not calling me back. Will you call her and ask her to come down? I know it would mean the world to Rocker.”

  I sighed. She was Tank’s little sister. Tank loved her. I loved Tank. I wouldn’t smack the smug look off her face out of respect for him. I wanted to, though. Really wanted to.

  I took a deep breath. “Sure. When is it?”

  “That’s not funny, even from you,” she snapped.

  “I’m not kidding. I don’t know what family night is, let alone when.”

  “It’s Saturday.” Her voice was condescending. “A president’s old lady should pay attention.”

  It would be helpful if the president actually kept his old lady in the loop. I wouldn’t admit to that, though. Instead, I shrugged like I didn’t actually care.

  “Blame it on lack of sleep.” I gave her what I hoped was a smug look. “Rocker doesn’t let me get much sleep. Maybe once the honeymoon phase wears off, I’ll do better.” I lifted a shoulder. “If it ever wears off.” I turned back around. “I’ll go get Nick for you.”

  When I told Nick that there was a customer upfront asking for him, I also told him I needed to leave early. He gave me an odd look but didn’t question it.

  I hurried back to the studio, but I knew that Rob wouldn’t be home. I grabbed the phone and dialed his number. He didn’t answer. I tried three more times before I gave up.

  I paced around the apartment, trying to decide what to do. I called Tabby, the only girlfriend I had in the city. Rob kept promising that it would be different once the clubhouse opened, that the old ladies would be like my own little club.

  I didn’t know whether or not to believe him. The old ladies I’d met so far were odd. Candy had taken off, without as much as a good-bye to Tabby, while I’d been incarcerated. And Tabby was always really distracted.

  Or unreachable. I called her three times and waited a half hour for her to call me back. Then I tried Matt. It went straight to voicemail. Desperate, I dialed Tank.

  “What’s wrong, baby girl?” He answered on the first ring.

  “Are you with Rob?” I demanded without greeting him.

  “Uh.” He paused. “I’m not. Why?”

  “He’s at the clubhouse, right?”

  “Princess, what’s wrong?”

  “I need Rob. He’s not answering. Can you take me to him, or should I call a cab?”

  He swore. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

  If I’d owned a bike of my own, I could have driven myself. I’d been saving up to buy one, but I hadn’t realized it was a priority. If I couldn’t walk to where I needed to go, Rob drove me. I was seriously rethinking that now.

  I was outside when he pulled up fifteen minutes later. I didn’t say a word as I swung onto his bike and settled behind him. Tank and I had gotten used to riding together while Rob had been locked up, although Tank had made me promise not to tell my boyfriend. It was apparently a giant faux pas to let another man’s girlfriend ride bitch.

  I’d felt guilty over that for months. Secrets and lies, I’d told myself, had no place in a relationship. I didn’t want Rob to feel exactly like I was feeling at that very moment. It sucked.

  By the time we’d pulled through the gates, I’d worried my stomach into knots. Tank stopped next to the building and parked in the long line of motorcycles that told me Rob definitely wasn’t alone. I was off and striding toward the door before Tank had turned off the engine.

  A month before, the club had purchased an old elementary school. Rob had been working his fingers to the bone trying to remodel it into the perfect clubhouse for all the Bastards’ needs. I’d helped as much as I could, creating the general design and color schemes, but felt like I was in the way when I was there.

  I pushed through the doors expecting the sounds of power tools and the smell of sawdust to greet me. Instead, my steps faltered and I gaped at the room. It was finished.

  Not only was it finished, it was regal. The tops of the walls were light grey; the bottoms stained wainscoting. Twenty-five high tables, each surrounded by black-padded bar stools, were scattered around the room. One corner was the lounge area, complete with black leather couches and chairs. In the other was the game area, with four pool tables and a pinball game.

  Even though the space would be primarily for club members, Rob had wanted a place that would be welcoming for everyone—brothers, old ladies, and kids. During the day, it would resemble a restaurant. At night, the lights would go down and it would be a clubhouse.

  I took a few more steps into the room, pausing once again when I glanced forward. Stretching the length of the room, right where it couldn’t be missed, were giant letters that spelled the message that “GOD FORGIVES. BASTARDS DON’T.” Below that, alcohol bottles lined the wall, a
long wooden bar in front of them.

  Taking up most of the wall to my right was a giant flag. A silver Itus – the Greek God of protection - held two blood-red swords in his hands, ready to viciously slay anyone who threatened those he protected. “Bastards MC” arched above him in bold red print, and “Boston” curled below him in the same red letters.

  When I’d seen their cuts, the backs of their jackets, I’d known how perfect they were. It was said that Itus had been born a mortal man. Unlike most of his time, he was truly good. He didn’t lie, didn’t steal, and his skills with a sword were unmatched. Seeing what kind of man he was, Apollo chose Itus to be his protector and gave him two new swords to slay the wicked—those who would do harm to others. Later, an impressed Zeus made Itus a God so he could spend eternity protecting the innocent.

  The Bastards were the modern day Itus. They protected the innocent and slayed the wicked. They weren’t Gods, but the were truly good men.

  “Wow.” It was breathtaking.

  I spun around, checking the room out one more time, completely blown away. I’d drawn it on paper, played around with the colors and ideas. Researched restaurants. This was a thousand times better than it had looked in my mind.

  “Angel?”

  I spun toward Rob’s voice, the amazed smile still on my face. He’d come in through a door on the other side of the pool tables, and I could see other Bastards filing out behind him. Recovering at the surprise of seeing me, Rob grinned and stepped toward me, his arms opening.

  I’d never been allowed to go through the door, even when I’d been here at the very beginning of construction, because it was off limits to old ladies. There were plenty of club rules that I thought were archaic and stupid, but I never pushed because they mattered to Rob. Yet, I was shocked to my core when Jessie appeared with the guys, following my boyfriend out.

  I took a step back and held up my hand, stopping his advance. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head. “I need to talk to you. Privately.”

  He took another step toward me. I took another step back. His face turned murderous. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Fine. He wanted to know, I’d tell him. I opened my mouth to demand answers, to fire questions at him, but shook my head instead. There were a lot of things I was upset about, questions I wanted answers to, but I was done with public tantrums.

  I wanted the Bastards to have a good opinion of me. I couldn’t rewrite history, and for those who had seen me at the Bean Nighe clubhouse months ago, I was nothing more than a spoiled brat. I was desperate to replace that image in their minds.

  Rob watched me, completely confused. His face softened as he seemed to understand. “Cris?”

  I sighed and shook my head. I’d been an idiot. As annoyed as I was, he had a great explanation.

  “Everything okay?” Jessie asked, her hand resting on Rob’s arm as she stepped up next to him.

  I counted to ten and waited for him to shrug her off. He didn’t. Tank, on the other hand, swept in, wrapping an arm around his sister as he attempted to pull her away. The sight of her resisting made me snap.

  “What’s going on?” I demanded, ignoring the way my voice shook.

  Rob didn’t answer right away. Instead, he glanced at Jess and then back to me. His eyes went wide in realization. “We had a meeting,” he explained, as if it was the answer to everything.

  “A meeting?” I snorted. “About what, exactly?”

  “Family night,” Barbie answered for him, even though her brother was mumbling to her, trying to get her to leave.

  I turned on her, not caring what anyone thought of me. “Why are you even here? You’re not an old lady. There’s no reason for you to be here.”

  “Because I’m head of the auxiliary.” She smirked.

  “The what?” I demanded, scoffing at how ridiculous she sounded. This wasn’t a fire department. We didn’t have an auxiliary. “That’s not a real thing.”

  “Actually, it is. It’s the closest thing to being a patched member a woman can get.”

  I glanced back at Rob, waiting for him to correct her.

  He swallowed. “I was gonna tell you…” he started, lifting his palms in the air in surrender. “I was.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face. “Like you were going to tell me you sold your bike?”

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “That’s not a big deal,” he told me as soon as he opened them back up.

  “Not a big deal?” I laughed bitterly and shook my head. Yeah. He would think that. “Why’d you sell it?” I demanded, hands on my hips.

  “I needed the money,” he answered immediately, not hesitating to think it through. He didn’t look ashamed. Didn’t glance around to see if other people were paying attention. I was too ashamed to look.

  “What for?” I waved an arm around. “This place?”

  He shook his head. “McCue.”

  “My attorney?”

  He nodded. “Liam took out a lien against his house, but it just wasn’t enough.”

  I’d been told by another inmate that McCue was expensive, but I’d assumed my parents had paid for my defense. Jesus. I’d never seen that coming.

  “You love that bike.”

  “Not as much as I love you. A bike can be replaced. You can’t.”

  That had not been the answer I expected. But it didn’t change anything. He’d still been keeping me in the dark. He stepped toward me again, and once more, I retreated.

  I was angry. And confused. I’d foolishly believed every single thing Rob had told me about club life and my role in it. I’d been so blinded by my love for him that I never questioned it anymore.

  It had been policy, Rob’d claimed, since the first motorcycle club was established. Women weren’t allowed to be members, women couldn’t know the day-to-day club business. Who was I to push for change? It would be much easier on my boyfriend if I accepted my role without fighting, so I had.

  I’d done it for him. Yet, here was Jessie, proving that all the shit he’d told me was a lie. Club auxiliary. Ha! I slept with the freaking club president every single night, yet this bitch knew more than I did.

  It was more than jealousy, although that’s probably what he thought it was about. I knew he loved me. I knew he was coming home to me every night. Jessie may have wanted him, but he didn’t want her.

  This was about trust. After everything we’d been through, everything I’d done to prove I was loyal to him, prove that I would protect him at all costs, he still didn’t trust me. That fact stung.

  A little voice in the back of my mind nagged at me. I hadn’t told Rob everything. I hadn’t let him all the way in either.

  I could stand there and hurl insults, demand answers. If I wasn’t ready to give them to him myself, it was pointless. I wasn’t just mad at Rob; I was pissed at myself.

  “I need to go.” I turned and ran outside before he could stop me.

  “Jesus Christ, Cris, stop for one fuckin’ minute,” Rob yelled across the lot, halting my escape before I’d made it to the gate.

  I turned around and glared at him. “What?”

  “Come back inside.”

  “No.”

  “Cris,” he growled.

  “Rob,” I parroted back. “I’m going home. I need to think.” I spun and resumed my march toward the gate.

  “Tank will take you home. Wait here.”

  It wasn’t a question. I thought about telling him he could kiss it, but I didn’t want to be on the streets of Roxbury alone after dark. When Tank came out, waving the keys to the truck, I climbed inside. We didn’t speak the entire way.

  “Want me to come in and check it out?” Tank asked as he idled in front of my building.

  I laughed as I slid out. “No. Thanks though.”

  I was lost in my thoughts a few minutes later when I unlocked my door, not paying attention. Heading straight for the windows, ready to watch as night
descended on the city, I caught a movement out of my peripheral vision. I turned, dropping into a defensive stance, ready to strike, when a man stood at my table.

  “Hey!” Matty held up his hands. “It’s just me! Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  I rolled my eyes and smacked him. “Jesus! You almost had the shit kicked out of you. You know that, right?”

  “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think.” He sobered quickly.

  “Why are you sitting in my apartment in the dark?”

  “Rob called me.”

  “Of course he did.” I snapped on the light next to the bed. “Now you know I’m safe. Leave.”

  “Actually,”—he sat in the chair by the window—“Rob’s not going to be here for a while, so I thought we’d catch up.”

  “Why isn’t Rob going to be here?” I pointed a finger at him. “If you say, ‘club business,’ I will hit you.”

  Matt lifted an eyebrow and I knew he was going to say something sassy. Then all humor left his face. “He’s actually staying at the club tonight.”

  My mouth fell open. “Oh.” It had definitely been the day for surprises.

  “I needed to talk to you, but you’ve been avoiding me.”

  “No.” I shook my head as my heart began to pound, nerves settling into my belly. “I’ve been busy.”

  “Okay.” He nodded, conceding the way he always had when we were little.

  I sighed dropping onto my bed and pulling one knee up to my chest. “What did you need to talk about?”

  He lifted his chin and I turned, following his gaze. On the table was my stack of letters. I bit my lip.

  “You read them?”

  “I started to.” He sniffed. “Last weekend, I tried to read them. Then it was just too much and I couldn’t finish.”

  His voice was full of pain. I wanted to take it away. I couldn’t, but I could face him. I turned, seeing the face I’d once loved more than anything.

  “You lied.”

  “I did.”

  “Why didn’t you tell the truth? On the stand. To our parents. To me.” His voice broke. “Why?”

  “No one would have believed me.” I narrowed my eyes. “Do you not remember that part? People called me a liar. Strangers called the house and threatened me, claimed I’d made the entire thing up. We had to sell the house and move because they broke our windows and slashed Mom’s tires. If I’d added more to it, you really think it wouldn’t have been worse?”

 

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