Forgiveness

by Wilder, Chiah

  Chet and Eddie had been in the middle of a drug deal with the biker. Maggie shook her head wishing it would do the trick in erasing the memory completely from her brain. Nope, that wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon. Eddie was doping his bulls and Chet was using. Asshole! Maggie swallowed down her revulsion as she walked toward her truck for some peace and quiet. Now it makes sense why he was so off his rocker and way too full of rage when we were dating. It also explains how he can stay on those pumped up bulls for as long as he does.

  The rush of relief and awareness that she’d escaped the situation before things escalated left her achingly exhausted as she hauled herself into the driver’s seat and shut and locked the door. Suddenly, her whole body longed for Flux’s strong arms to wrap around her and his deep voice telling her that she was safe. I need you, big guy. Maggie closed her eyes and sank into the quiet space inside her head, where she went to relax and zone everything else out.

  A screech of wheels made her lids pop open, then she saw Chet striding across the parking lot and all her ideas about serenity swirled down the drain. Chet looked as if he didn’t have a single care in the world, but she noticed his right hand never strayed far from his pocket, patting it idly or sticking his hand in it. Must be where the jerk keeps his stash.

  Maggie rubbed her throbbing temples. There’s no way they’re going to let me get away with knowing what they’re up to. I’ve got to report it to Charlie. The trouble was that she didn’t know if she had the guts to report it. Calling Chet and Eddie out on illegal drug use was huge because Chet was one of the top riders in the amateur circuit and Eddie had been involved in the rodeo longer than Maggie had been alive. A good part of her worried that Charlie would doubt the validity of the claim because he and Eddie had done hundreds of events together. It would end up being her word against theirs. She brought her thumb to her mouth and chewed on the cuticle until she drew blood.

  If I report Chet, he’ll make my life a living hell. Since Flux had come into her life, Chet had stopped stalking her, and resorted to throwing her lewd and glaring looks whenever Flux wasn’t with her. And even though Maggie had been strong and stood up to Chet before Flux had become so ingrained in her life, the good ol’ boys’ club was still alive and well in the rodeo world. The last thing she needed was to start shit all over again with Chet she’d ratted him out, and Eddie wouldn’t take too kindly to her betrayal either.

  The more Maggie mulled it over, the clearer it became that there wasn’t any good way out of the mess thrown at her. Maybe she’d talk about it with Flux when he got back the following morning.

  Yeah … that’s what I’ll do.

  But the next morning seemed like a lifetime away.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Maggie

  Later that day

  “That was a good run, but next time try reining in sooner and into the opposite side of where you think your horse is heading, that way he’s anticipating one thing, but you’re feeding him something else. It’ll re-train him and let you do what you want with him in the ring. Does that make sense?” Maggie asked the dusty woman, who was slightly younger than her twenty-five years, as they hung out at the fence’s edge after the younger woman’s ride. “You’re fierce, but you have to know when to give them the right feedback.”

  The woman nodded. “Thanks for taking the time to help me out.”

  Maggie smiled at the newcomer in the barrel racing event. It was nice to be appreciated for all her hard work, and Maggie was more than happy to mentor anyone in the sport. There needed to be other women out there vying for the big leagues too. She couldn’t create a movement of women barrel riders breaking barriers like herself, if she alone kept all the good information and didn’t spread the love around.

  “You’re welcome. Just remember—you’re the one in control at all times. You’re good out there and that’s half the battle.”

  The woman smiled. “Thanks, that means a lot to me. I’ll try that in practice next—”

  “Excuse me, I hate to interrupt.” A man she hadn’t seen before tapped the younger woman on the shoulder and looked at Maggie with a sheepish smile. “The a couple of sponsors want to see you backstage. They have a few questions and want to run some new ideas by you.”

  Maggie sighed then smiled at her protégé. “You know where I’ll be after the show if you think of anything else you want to ask me.”

  “Yes. Thanks.” The woman grinned, tipped her hat, and limped away.

  Maggie glanced at the man and made a gesture for him to lead the way, and she followed close behind him.

  It wasn’t unusual for sponsors to take in a rodeo show from the stands and then restructure their branding and marketing plans once they saw how their audience responded to various stimuli. Over the years, Maggie had gone to a few of those meetings. The last one had been a debate on which hat color she should wear in the ring. While it seemed ridiculous to her most of the time, the sponsors wanted to use every bit of her to stick their product in people’s brains so they would remember to buy it. The fact that sponsorships were financially lucrative didn’t hurt either. So, if it involved wearing a pale pink hat, which was the color of their clothing line, versus the fawn-color she normally wore, then so be it. The money she received went a long way in sustaining her riding career because a life on the rodeo circuit was filled with expenses.

  “Just back here, miss. Thank you.” The man led her past the hookup hallways, the ones where she’d witnessed Chet make his drug deal, and took a sharp right into a part of the building she hadn’t been in before now. “They wanted to pick a more discreet room today because the competition is also here; their ongoing battle with one another has gotten worse since you last spoke to them.”

  Maggie nodded even though his words didn’t make sense to her, but before she could analyze them, he opened the door and used his hand on her lower back to guide her into the room before shutting the door. Her lip curled at the odd touch still lingering at the small of her back. The room was weirdly dark and cavernous.

  “Hello? Where is everyone?” Maggie called out, wiping her suddenly sweaty palms on her jeans. Her stomach tightened with a niggle of fear. She licked her lips, vainly searching through the blackness before someone hit a light switch somewhere, and a bright light flooded the space.

  Maggie winced and blinked as she tried to adjust to the abrupt lighting. In the far corner of the room, a figure stood still, clinging to the shadows. All her senses went on high alert and she tensed, gingerly fumbling her way backward toward the door. Her hand searched behind her for the knob, knowing it could make or break the moment for getting out of this screwed up situation.

  Maggie knew that the “meeting” sure as hell had nothing to do with sponsorships or promotions—she’d been duped. Then Chet stepped out of the shadows just as her hand gripped the cool doorknob. Maggie wrenched it with all her might, and half-turned to swing it open so she could get the hell out of there, but the damn thing was locked. Her mind whirled. Fuck … this isn’t good. What the hell am I going to do? Maggie spun around and kept her back against the door’s fake wood grain. Her brain scrambled for a way out, while the rest of her body switched from panic to anger to shock, which left her numb and tingling at the same time.

  “Chet, what the fuck’s this about? What’re you doing? I’m sick of playing your stupid mind games, and if you don’t let me out of here, I’ll scream bloody murder until security busts down the damn door.”

  Truth be told, Maggie had no idea if security even went this far back into the building. I was an idiot to follow a stranger back here. Okay, stop. Now isn’t the time to beat myself up. I’ve got to stay vigilant and on my game. The situation reeked of danger and she didn’t have anything close to a weapon nearby. Maggie had to get out of there, but she knew if she made one mistake, Chet would be on her like a targeted bull. There was no room for error.

  “Honeycakes, you saw something you weren’t supposed to, and I know you’re not going t
o forget it. So, that puts us in a little predicament that needs to be solved quickly and without a whole lot of fuss.”

  Maggie swallowed and felt all the blood drain from her face. “Let me out of this room, Chet.” She threatened, low and fierce, allowing all her anger to show past the fear that was making her insides quiver.

  A cruel smile curled up on his lips. “No can do, honeycakes. I’ve got to keep you here until some of my associates show up. But as long as we’re alone together, waiting, and bored … we might as well have some fun, right?”

  “Chet, this is insane. You’re being a jackass.”

  Maggie rattled the doorknob again in vain, hoping that she might be able to break it, but it wasn’t budging even an inch. A small whimper built in her chest and she squashed it down, unwilling to let Chet sense her fear as he moved through the shadows at the corner of the room and into the full light.

  “Chet, you need to think of the consequences here. You’re doing this on rodeo property, if someone found you or found out …” Her voice died away as her throat grew tight with panic. “I won’t tell anyone about what I saw. It doesn’t even have anything to do with me. Let me leave and I’ll take it to my grave, okay?”

  “No, you little biker whore, it’s not okay. Everything is very fucked up, and the way I see it, the root of everything going wrong in my life starts and ends with you. So, what we’re going to do here is teach you a nice little lesson and that way you won’t disgust me quite as much once I’m done with you.”

  She curled up into herself while Chet cornered her against the door and threw his hat on the floor.

  “I thought you were too good for me before, but I didn’t get it back then. Now, I do—I’m too fucking good for you. What you really need is to be used like the dirty slut you are. You just spread your legs for that asshole, didn’t you? And you played all proper and shit with me. Well, not anymore, honeycakes. I’m going to treat you just like he does—like a fuck toy. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Then you’ll want to be with me. Isn’t that how it works for tramps like you?”

  “Shut the hell up, you bastard,” Maggie seethed, ripping her arm out of the way as he fought to grab her wrist. “Don’t you fucking touch me!”

  Chet was on her before she could think of where to go to get away from him. One second she was wrestling her arm from his grip, and the next, he had blocked every inch of her body against the door so there was no room for escape. She clenched her teeth and forced her body to relax against him. Pliant.

  “That’s better. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Chet whispered against her ear as one of his hands slid down the front of her button-down plaid shirt and squeezed her breast. “As long as you cooperate, I’ll take good care of you, honeycakes.”

  It took everything inside Maggie not to flinch away from him. Inside, her stomach swam with revulsion and she pushed aside the hot wash of anger at being violated as he shoved his hands under the hem of her shirt and pawed at her body. He kept talking to her, but Maggie blocked out his words as a faint buzzing pricked at her temples until she crawled into a deep, dark hole inside herself that she didn’t know was there.

  As soon as Chet seemed lost in his little fucked up fantasy, that’s when Maggie didn’t hesitate—she went for his balls, wrapping her hand around his junk and massaging gently.

  He moaned into her ear. “That’s it, honeycakes. I like what you’re doing to me.”

  Maggie fondled and played as his face slanted down onto hers for a passionate kiss, and she almost gagged as his tongue laid like a dead fish inside her mouth. There wasn’t room in her brain to think clearly—everything was on autopilot.

  Then Maggie tightened her grip into a vice and ripped upward with all her might as if she were going to tear his balls off his body and throw them in the corner. Chet let out a blood-curdling scream and jerked back while he tried to push her off of him, but Maggie hung on like a pit bull with a hell of a grudge.

  “You … fucking … cunt!” Chet screamed in a high-pitched wail.

  Maggie was so bent on hanging on to his junk that she never even saw Chet’s fist until he’d swung it across the side of her skull. The blow made her head explode as she staggered back, then everything started to fade away and the room turned to black.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Flux

  “You want another one? I don’t think we’re done drinking to your homecoming.” Smokey’s words slurred together as he held up the bottle of Jack Daniels and wiggled it between his fingers. “This party isn’t over until we have to break out another two.”

  Flux laughed along with the crowd that had formed around the bar after church, just like they’d always done when he was an active member. It was like he’d never left.

  Smokey poured another round and slid them across the bar. As Flux downed the shot and the whiskey burned into his gut, he glanced around the room and saw that after all these years, nothing had really changed—but that everything was so damn different for him.

  Tank was fucking Charlotte on the pool table, going at her from behind like a rabbit on steroids, and Kristy, Lola, and Brandi surrounded Hubcap, as per usual. Everyone around Flux was going all out and having themselves a good time. The guys never stopped living their best lives, and as much as Flux wanted to join in on the party and forget his life for a little while, it wasn’t that simple anymore. What once was the only thing he lived for, losing himself in debauchery and over-indulgence, now made him kind of fucking sad. Flux wanted more in his life than a steady stream of booze and weed and throwing chicks out of his bed.

  Fuck. I want Maggie.

  The thought solidified in his brain until everything became crystal clear with the kind of clarity he hadn’t had in years. As much as Flux loved his brothers and wanted to party with them, one crucial part of his heart was missing—Duchess. He wondered what Maggie would make of the MC, but he hoped that someday he could show this part of his life to her and that she’d understand and accept it. A life that screamed at him to reclaim, and now that he’d found a new lease on life with Maggie by his side, the pull to his old life was stronger than ever.

  Flux put his forehead on the bar and took a deep breath. He was a fucking goner for his Duchess. It was never more evident to him as he watched his brothers drink, fuck, and smoke the time away, while he played the goodie two shoes who couldn’t wait to get back to his woman. My woman. I like the fuckin’ sound of that. Flux had only felt that way about one other woman, and he’d done the right thing back then too. He’d claimed Alicia and married her, promising to never let her go, and then she was taken from him.

  Flux would never let that happen to Maggie. He’d never make the mistake he’d made with Alicia, and he’d keep Maggie safe at all costs. Anything else, like ignoring his feelings because it was hard and fucking complicated and not the right damn time was all utter bullshit. When it was right, it was right, and he refused to let Maggie slip through his fingers because he was scared of what might happen to her if he let her into his life.

  “Rosie’s been waiting for you, bro,” Smokey said as he tapped Flux on the shoulder.

  Flux jerked his head up, rubbed his eyes, and glanced out the window at the streaks of red and gold painting the sky.

  “I’ve gotta get back. See you in the morning in Kremmling.”

  “I thought you were staying the night,” Smokey said.

  “I changed my mind.”

  “But Rosie’s so ripe, dude. Are you sure you—”

  Flux cut him off with a grin that was so damn wide that it hurt his fucking facial muscles because they hadn’t been used like that in a long time.

  “You look like a fuckin’ demented clown.” Smokey howled.

  “Whatever. See you tomorrow.” Flux bumped fists with a few of the brothers, then walked out into the cool air. The sweet scent of wildflowers danced on the soft breeze and a flock of birds squawked overhead as he jumped on his bike and switched on the engine. In less than five minutes, he
was on the main highway making his way to Maggie.

  An hour later, when Flux pulled up next to Maggie’s truck in the parking lot, he could barely function from the sudden nerves that shook through him—the kind of vibrations that ripped through him as if he tore across a rumble strip on his motorcycle. What the fuck did he say in this kind of situation? Fuck him, he was lost and idiotic.

  He took his phone out of his pocket and quickly sent a text.

  Flux: I’m back, Duchess. Need u.

  The idea that he might get to see her soon sent a ball of excitement to the pit of his stomach like he was a damn seventh grader with a hard-on for the first time.

  Flux rolled his shoulders and tried to get ahold of himself before he headed to all her usual haunts. Maggie wasn’t in the stables or in the mess hall, and he knew she wasn’t in the ring because she wasn’t scheduled until later on the docket that night.

  “You looking for Maggie?” Jack stopped Flux in his tracks halfway outside the stables.

  “Yeah. Have you seen her?”

  “She was here earlier helping one of the newbies, but I haven’t seen her since.”

  Flux scrubbed his face with his fist, ignoring the bad gut feeling brewing in the back of his head. “Have you seen Chet lately?” Fuck, I hope I’m wrong. The asshole cowboy wasn’t one to give up, and Maggie was vulnerable without Flux on the grounds. A flare of liquid rage burned in his belly funneling out through his arms and legs as he considered the possibilities of what she could be doing with him.

  “No, I haven’t seen him either. Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.” Jack brought a rag to his face and wiped some of the face paint off his skin then meandered away toward the washroom.

  There was only one area left to check and Flux had a sinking feeling that he was right on the money where his Duchess was on the property. Let me be wrong. He booked it toward the back rooms, his surroundings a blur.