by Sweet, Izzy
Twisting a little in my seat, I look out my window and let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.
The night started out so great… It felt like the stars had finally aligned and we could find some happiness together, but everything has gone to shit.
All because I’m weak and pathetic and couldn’t bring myself to get on his bike.
To other couples, it probably wouldn’t be an issue, but with Coy…
His life revolves around that motorcycle. It’s a part of him. It’s weaved into his very being. He needs to ride like the rest of us need to breathe.
What kind of relationship are we going to have if I can’t share that with him?
Will he eventually grow to resent me?
I can’t remember our past and I can’t get on his bike—
“Stop it,” Coy growls, cutting into my thoughts.
“Stop what?” I ask, twisting back around to face him.
Coy gives me a warning look. “Stop thinking whatever the fuck you’re thinking.”
I bristle a little over his tone. “How do you know I’m thinking something?”
“It’s all over your face,” he says, finally taking his eyes off me as he slows the minivan and brings it to a stop.
He lets go of my hand to put the van in park, but quickly grabs it again when I start to pull it back.
Using my hand to tug me closer, he grabs my face and looks deeply in my eyes. “Like I said earlier, we’re not gonna let this fucking stop us. I mean it, Allie, we’re gonna fuckin’ rise above this shit. So you can just stop thinking whatever it is that you’re thinking and get over it. Got it?”
I roll my eyes and start to pull away. Where does he get off telling me what I can and cannot have in my own brain?
“You can’t tell me what I’m allowed to think, Coy.”
His voice drops back down to a growl as he says, “The fuck I can’t.”
When I roll my eyes again and try to pull away, he yanks me closer and presses a hard kiss against my mouth.
The fucker kisses me until my insides start to melt.
Then he breaks the kiss and rasps against my lips, “You’re going to have fun tonight, Allie, and that’s a fucking order.”
When I scoff and start to stiffen, he kisses me again.
Goddammit.
He’s totally an overbearing dick, but I can’t stop myself from kissing him back.
“A lot of people have put a lot of time and effort into this party for you. There’s a lot of fucking people that are excited that you’re back. Don’t fucking ruin it,” he growls when he finally pulls away.
Eyes black as coal, they bore into me, daring me to defy him.
“Ugh, fine,” I say, giving up. He’s so fucking stubborn, there’s no point in fighting about this. Let him think I’ll obey. “I’ll have fucking fun, Coy.”
“You fuckin’ better,” he warns then gives me another kiss before getting out of the van.
I shake my head and watch him stomp around the front through the windshield. Undoing my seatbelt, I reach for the door, but he yanks it open before I can touch it.
Grabbing me by the hand, his favorite pastime, he tugs me out of the van.
As my boots touch the pavement, I have to take a deep, calming breath.
I will not murder him.
I will not murder him in front of his brothers.
Slamming the door shut, Coy yanks me into his side and wraps his arm around me, keeping me close as we walk up to the clubhouse.
To outsiders, it probably looks like he’s being sweet, but I know he’s doing it to keep me from running away from him.
Gritting my teeth, I try to focus on the building in front of me and not the asshole who has me in death grip.
The building is two-stories high, rectangular, and made of brick that’s been painted inky black. Hanging above the door and lit up by lights is a huge sign of the Royal Bastards patch. The grinning skull wearing a crown flanked by two motorcycles.
It’s looks exactly like what I expected it to look like—a haven for outlaws.
In front of the building there’s a long line of parked motorcycles, mostly black with a couple of different colors mixed in. People are scattered in small groups around the motorcycles, laughing, talking, and drinking.
When Coy and I get closer, a few of the guys recognize him and call out to him. “Hey, Pres!”
Coy nods his head and lifts his hand to them, and I swear I can feel his chest starting to puff up with pride.
I’m seriously considering tripping him when someone suddenly yells out in a deep booming voice, “Hey, it’s Allie! Fuck yeah! Welcome home, Allie!”
Cheers erupt, and more and more people start yelling out into the night until my name becomes a roar.
My feet stop and goosebumps breakout across my flesh.
Coy and Poster Boy have both said I’ve been missed by the club, but I didn’t really believe it. How could I? To me the club is simply unknown, faceless strangers…
But now…
“Coy,” I whisper and look up at him in awe as the cheers go on and on.
They’re not saying my name now, but they’re definitely hooting and hollering in celebration.
Celebration because I’m home.
Coy looks down at me with a big grin on his face and his arm squeezes around me. “Just enjoy it, baby.”
I swallow the lump forming in my throat and nod my head.
We start walking again, and with every step we take I can feel those same tingles I felt when I looked up at the sky buzzing in my veins.
Once Coy and I finally step through the front door of the clubhouse, I completely forget I was pissed at him.
I can’t seem to remember anything at all as someone near the front door spots us and the inside of the clubhouse breaks out in a fresh round of cheers.
Tears begin to prick at the corners of my eyes at the sound of my name.
I can’t even explain the emotions that are swelling inside me.
It’s this mixture of surprise, awe, and maybe even a little sadness.
Sadness because I can’t remember any of these people or this place.
Yet, they remember me.
Sensing my emotions, Coy sweeps me into his arms and kisses me dramatically in front of everyone. More cheers erupt, and when I finally manage to push him away, I’m laughing.
“Welcome home, baby,” Coy says, his eyes sparkling down at me.
Stretching up, I press my own kiss against his lips before I whisper, “Thank you.”
Coy nods his head, eyes still sparkling, and tucks me back into his side.
We try to make our way into the clubhouse but it’s slow going. Everyone is stopping us to greet him and say their welcome to me.
I can’t even count how many times big, rough looking bikers that would probably scare the shit out of me if I ran into them on the street come up to tell me they’re happy I’m back.
My head is spinning when we finally reach Poster Boy and Grem.
“Hey, boss man,” Poster Boy says to Coy then he turns to me. Lifting the beer in his hand, there’s a knowing smirk on his lips as he says, “Welcome home, Allie.”
As he tips his bottle back to drain it, I decide to mess with him.
I smile and say sweetly, “Thanks Luke.”
Poster Boy almost chokes on his beer.
Ripping the bottle away from his mouth, he’s practically gasping as he asks, “You finally remember me?”
Snickering, I shake my head. “Nope. Not at all.”
“Oh, that’s cold, Allie. Fuckin’ cold,” he grumbles, deflating, and I snicker all the more.
“Uh, Pres,” Grem says and my attention immediately snaps to him. “I don’t know if anyone has told ya this, but you got a little somethin’ on your mouth.”
Coy reaches up to touch his mouth in confusion. “What is it?”
Biting my lip, I try really hard not to snicker harder.
But fuck, I can�
��t contain it as Grem chuckles and says, “It looks like you’re wearin’ lipstick or somethin’.”
Realization dawns in Coy’s eyes and he rubs furiously at his mouth with the back of his hand while he growls menacingly, “Allie.”
Shaking my head, I try to pull away from him. “I warned you, but you didn’t listen…”
Yanking me back, his eyes flash, “How long has it been there?”
I probably shouldn’t tell him the truth, but it’s too hilarious not to.
“Since we left the house!” I laugh at his angry face then I stretch up to smear whatever lipstick I have left on his lips.
“Dammit, woman,” Coy growls into my mouth and then nips at me until I pull away.
Reaching up, he scrubs his arm against his lips again then asks Grem, “Is it gone?”
Still chuckling, Grem shakes his head and has to point at the corner of Coy’s mouth. “No, you still got a little right there…”
“Fuck,” Coy snaps and rubs at the corner of his lips.
“Why are you so mad?” I ask, innocently fluttering my eyelashes at him. “You marked me so I marked you. It’s only fair…”
“Clean it off,” he demands.
Sighing dramatically, I say, “Okay.” Then I reach up and use my thumb to wipe the last of the lipstick off. “But I was really liking the look of my mark on you. I was even thinking of marking you in other places later…”
Coy’s eyes narrow with suspicion. “Other places?”
I look down pointedly at his zipper then drag my eyes back up.
His eyes warm with heat as he gets my meaning and before I know what’s happening, he’s grabbing me by the hand and yanking me past Poster Boy and Grem.
“Coy!” I squeal and laugh as I stumble after him. “Where are we going?”
“I’m gonna take you up on that offer and give you a tour of my room,” he grins deviously down at me.
Shaking my head, I slap at his hand. “I said later. I want to have fun now!”
“Oh, we’ll have fun,” he assures me, his grin and the look in his eyes growing more devious.
“Coy, please,” I beg, my eyes pleading up at him.
I really do want to have some fun before we end up in his room because I’m pretty sure once we end up there, we won’t be coming back out.
My plea must get through to him because he slows and lets out a big sigh. “Fine.”
Happy to finally get my way for once, I press my body against his and smile up at him. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, but I can tell by the hint of a smile on his lips he’s pleased I’m showing him gratitude. “I’m still gonna hold you to that offer later, woman.”
“Of course,” I smirk at him and stretch up to press a quick kiss on his lips.
His hands grab at my ass to pull me closer then he suddenly stiffens.
“Dammit, Allie,” he growls as I giggle and lower back down.
Reaching up, I wipe off the little bit of lipstick I left on him. “Don’t worry, you’ve already kissed most of it off me.”
“Yo, boss man,” Poster Boy calls out as he and Grem make their way toward us through the growing crowd. “We’re gonna start up a game of pool at one of the tables, wanna join us?”
For a moment it looks like Coy is going to say he wants to, but then he hesitates and finally shakes his head. “Nah, not yet. We gotta go pay our respects to my old man first.”
“Alright,” Poster Boy nods in understanding. “We’ll save a couple of spots for you.”
I tip my head up and ask Coy, “Old man?” as he begins to tug me through the sea of leather and denim.
“Yeah, my dad,” Coy grunts down at me.
The thought of meeting his dad starts to make me a little nervous.
What if his dad doesn’t like me? I think as Coy keeps pushing through the crowd with a purpose, only slowing a little to nod in acknowledgement to those who try to stop us now.
He seems determined to get to wherever we’re going, and it only amps up my anxiety.
Then I remember I’m not a stranger to Coy’s dad and that we’ve met before.
Poster Boy said Coy’s dad was excited about us getting married…
What if he’s mad at me for leaving?
That thought starts to make sick, and it certainly doesn’t help that the cloud of smoke in the air seems to get thicker the closer we get to the back of the clubhouse. By the time we reach a corner where a group of older, grizzly looking bikers sit, I’m pretty sure I have both a contact buzz and second-hand lung cancer.
The older guys are laughing and carrying-on, and don’t even seem to notice Coy and me at first until Coy steps right up to the black-haired guy seated directly in the middle of a semi-circle of chairs. The way everyone is turned a little toward the guy in the middle, I get the impression he’s in charge and holding court.
“Old man,” Coy grunts to get his attention.
Mid-laugh, the man looks up at Coy with a look of annoyance at first, like he’s pissed someone is bugging him.
Then, once he recognizes Coy, he breaks into a grin. “Son.”
Coy nods his head and then the man’s dark blue eyes drift toward me.
The grin on his wrinkled face seems to falter and that ball of dread in my stomach tightens.
Then his grin suddenly stretches wide, showing his yellowed teeth in his dark beard, and he stands up from his chair.
“Allison, girl. ‘Bout time this son of mine brought you around to see me!” he bellows.
Before I can prepare myself, he’s pulling me away from Coy, wrapping me up in a great big bearhug, and squeezing the shit out of me.
It’s pretty obvious where Coy gets his size from, even hunched over a little, his dad is just as tall as him.
I’m on the verge of completely suffocating to death when he finally pulls away and holds me out in front him. “Let me have a look at ya.”
I cast a help me look back at Coy, but he smirks and shakes head.
Fucker, he could have warned me.
“Just as pretty as ever. Haven’t changed a bit!” he declares, and most of the older guys around us nod or murmur in agreement.
“Come, sit with me, girl. I wanna know what you’ve been up to,” he says and tugs me toward his chair.
For a second, I’m afraid he’s going to try and make me sit on his lap or something, but then that annoyed, pissed off look returns.
Glaring at the white-haired biker sitting in the chair to the right of his, he barks, “Get the fuck up, Lizard, and make room for the mother of my grandson.”
And now I know where Coy gets his cranky, overbearing attitude from.
“What?” the white-haired guy says, looking up, confused.
He looks at Coy’s dad then to me like he doesn’t know what the hell is going on.
“I said get the fuck up,” Coy’s dad growls and I almost giggle at how much it sounds like Coy’s.
“Oh, okay…” the man says, shakily getting to his feet.
He wanders away, still looking very lost and confused.
I watch after him, a little worried, until Coy’s dad gives me a little nudge, forcing me to sit down.
As my butt hits the chair, I can’t help but think, God help me, I can’t believe there are two of them in world…
Coy’s dad lowers himself back down to his own chair, grinning again and still holding my hand, but there’s something strange about the way he has to take his time to do it.
Once he’s seated, he gives my hand a little pat. “So, my boy tells me you lost your memories.”
I don’t know what else to say, so I simply say, “Yes, I did.”
Coy’s dad nods his head gravely, gives my hand another pat, and says, “That’s a damn shame.”
I glance over at Coy to see him watching the two of us intently.
The guy next to Coy’s dad exhales, “Hound,” in a cloud of smoke and holds a half-smoked joint out to him.
Finally r
eleasing my hand, Coy’s dad accepts the joint. Pinching it between his thick fingers, he starts to lift it to his mouth.
Pausing, he glances at me. “You wanna hit?”
Oh shit. I’ve never smoked anything before, but the way Coy’s dad is looking at me, I get the feeling that this is a test or something.
If I refuse will they think I’m not biker enough and kick my ass to the curb?
I cast another quick glance over at Coy and see he’s no longer watching us closely. No, he’s gritting his teeth, his eyes warning me not to do it.
And suddenly I know exactly what Levi is feeling whenever he defies me.
I shrug my shoulders and turn back to Coy’s dad. “Sure.”
Coy’s dad nods his head almost in encouragement as he holds the joint out to me.
I notice his fingers shaking a little as I carefully take the joint from him and make a mental note to ask Coy about it later.
Lifting the joint to my lips, I look back at Coy as I smugly suck in a hit.
His eyes are gleaming murder and I’m feeling entirely too pleased with myself.
Until the smoke actually hits my lungs.
“Oh shit,” I choke and bend over as my body tries to cough everything in my chest up.
Coy’s dad bursts into laughter and gives me a slap on my back. “You could never hold your smoke, Allison girl!”
Eyes watering, nose stuffy, I think I can taste my lungs as I cough and cough and cough.
Coy starts to stomp over to me, but his father waves him off. “Go on, stop hoverin’ like a mother hen, son, and get outta here. I got her.”
“Old man—” Coy starts to argue, but his dad cuts him off.
“I said get!”
I’d laugh at the way the two of them glare at each other if I wasn’t trying to stop coughing to death.
Sucking in an angry breath, Coy’s jaw clenches even harder and he turns, stomping away.
Coy’s dad bursts into a fresh round of laughter and he gives me few gentle pats on the back before he takes the joint from my fingers.
Lifting it up to his mouth, he sucks in a long hit and asks tightly, “You got a drink?”
I shake my head, my coughing slowing, but my body still trying to expel my insides.
“Are you fuckin’ shittin’ me?” he exhales, looking offended. “You ain’t been offered a drink yet?”