Smokey’s Distraction: Insurgents Motorcycle Club

by Wilder, Chiah

  “I’m okay. That was really fun!”

  “Wait until we go riding along the mountain passes. It’s awesome,” he said as he led her into the diner.

  Tingles skated down her arm. He’s making future plans with me. That means something, doesn’t it?

  “Hiya, Smokey.” The waitress’s nametag read Maddie. She glanced at Ashley, then placed a hand on Smokey’s shoulder. “The back booth is free.”

  He took the seat facing the front of the restaurant, and she slid into the one across from him while he chatted with the waitress, giving Ashley the impression that he knew Maddie pretty well.

  “The specials for breakfast are banana nut pancakes, carnitas skillet with green chile, and Belgian waffles with blackberry syrup. I’ll bring you some water, and” –she pointed at Smokey— “coffee and cream. Is coffee good for you too?” she asked Ashley.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “All right, then. Be back in a sec.” Maddie put the pencil behind her ear as she made her way to the kitchen.

  “Is she a friend of yours?” Ashley asked, casually perusing the menu.

  Smokey leaned against the back of the booth. “I’d say that, but I only see Maddie when I come to the diner. She’s the best waitress in the joint.”

  “She seems nice.”

  “She is. She got fucked by her cheating ex. The asshole doesn’t pay a fuckin’ dime in child support. Maddie works her ass off for her kids, and I admire that.”

  “I do too. My mom worked two jobs, sometimes three, to put food on the table for my brother, sister, and me after my dad left.”

  “That must’ve been rough. Do you help your family out now that you’re a high-powered career woman?” The corners of his mouth curved into a smile.

  “I do help out. My mom works as a receptionist for a mining company in the Tech Center. I put the down payment on a nicer home for her, Jessica, and Tyler. Jessica’s my sister, and Tyler’s my nephew. She had him when she was a senior in high school.”

  “I’m guessing the dad isn’t helping out.”

  “That’s right—just like my dad. Why don’t fathers want to support their kids?”

  Smokey inhaled and breathed out slowly. “I think a lot of men feel resentment, anger, and bitterness when they have to write their ex a check every month. Most hate to pay because there’s so much negative shit going on between them.”

  “I can see that, but the money doesn’t go to the ex to live a luxurious life. It goes to the kids so they can eat every day, wear clothes that fit, and not end up on the fucking streets.” Her voice hitched, and she quickly looked down, blinking rapidly.

  Smokey reached out and took both of her hands in his. “Kids are the fallout of their parents’ selfishness and disappointments in life.”

  She looked up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get so emotional.”

  “Sometimes you have to. The memories are always there in the dark corners of our minds, and there are times they get the best of us. We just gotta deal with ’em, then shove them back into the darkness until the next time.”

  Nodding, she brought his hands to her lips. “It’s crazy how that happens.”

  He leaned over the table and kissed her, holding her gaze. “We’re a lot alike in that life’s deceits have kicked us in the ass, but it’s also made us more resilient. We’re survivors, and that’s something no one can take from us.”

  Ashley stared at him, as if seeing him for the first time. What he said resonated with her, and hit her that Smokey understood what was in her soul. They were connected in some intangible way, seeing the light inside each other amid all the darkness.

  An overwhelming wave of emotion—gratitude, happiness, peace—swept over her, and she couldn’t speak. She sat there, looking at him, wishing she could go to him, wrap her arms around him, and never let go.

  “Are you ready to order?” Maddie appeared beside her, scattering her thoughts.

  Smokey looked at Ashley. “What looks good?”

  With her eyes darting to the menu, she said, “You go first.”

  After placing an order for the carnitas skillet for Smokey, and a grilled cheese sandwich with tomatoes and chips for her, Ashley unwrapped the cutlery and put her napkin on her lap.

  “How did you end up volunteering for Mount Vista Shelter?” he asked.

  “How do you know about that?”

  His dark eyes bored into hers. “Brady told me when I was there yesterday.”

  The steam from her coffee curled up, warming her chin and nose. Blowing on it, she took a sip. “Good coffee,” she said, setting the cup down on the table. “Are you and Brady friends?”

  “More like acquaintances. My MC does a fundraiser every summer for the shelter.”

  “That’s wonderful. What kind of fundraiser is it?”

  “A bike rally with vendors for food and merch-type stuff. We set up games and other shit for the kids. It brings in a lot of people.” He took a drink of his coffee. “So what made you decide to volunteer?”

  At first, she was going to tell him her usual spiel about doing it for work in Denver and loving it, but after what they’d just shared, she wanted to be honest with him. “Right before I entered high school, our landlord told us he was selling the house we were renting. After three months of searching for something affordable, we ended up in a homeless shelter. We begged my dad for help, but he said he was strapped, so for two years, we were homeless.”

  “That must’ve been tough.”

  “It was. I hated living there.” She looked down at her hands. “I’ll never forget the smell—decay and hopelessness. It would take me an hour by bus to attend my alternate high school. I was embarrassed as hell by my family’s homelessness, and I was scared to death my classmates would find out and tease me. Even when we moved out of the emergency shelter and into a nicer, long-term one, I never told anyone. I figured my only hope of getting out of poverty was to study my ass off, get a scholarship, and go to college. That was my only goal. I figured when I turned sixteen, I’d get a job to help out. Hayden, my brother, wanted to enlist in the Marines. He’s still with them, and he sends money to my mom every month.” She shook her head. “It’s been a couple of years since I’ve seen him. He’s married now, and his wife is career military too.”

  “Grilled cheese for you,” Maddie said, putting a plate in front of Ashley, “and the special for you, sweetie. Do you need anything else?”

  Smokey smiled. “We’re good, Maddie. Thanks.”

  Taking a bite of her grilled cheese, the juice from the tomato dribbled down her chin. Savoring the deliciousness of the melted cheddar, she dabbed her chin with a napkin.

  “How is it?” Smokey asked as he picked up a corn tortilla.

  “Outstanding. I love grilled cheese sandwiches. Yours looks good too.”

  “Have a taste.” He brought the fork to her lips, his gaze locked on hers, and fed her.

  “That’s so good.”

  “Try some more.”

  Ashley raised her hands up to halt him. “No, thanks—I’m good.” Picking up her sandwich, she took another bite.

  “How did you get out of the shelter?”

  “One of the women my mom was friends with got a lead on a house, and with the two of them splitting the rent, we could get the place. My mom wouldn’t let me get a job after school, telling me I’d have my whole life to work, and that my studies were more important so I could secure a better future. Anyway, we moved. It was one of the happiest days of my life. The house was only 900 square feet with five of us living in it, but to me, it was a palace. I was able to get a scholarship that paid for most of my college tuition and living expenses. Once I started making real money, Hayden and I helped Mom get a better place, but I already told you that.”

  “You’re a good daughter.”

  She laughed. “Not always, but I try to be. My mom is the best. She’s my hero.” She popped a chip into her mouth and chewed slowly. “I have a secret to tell you.”


  “What is it?”

  “I work my ass off because I’m scared—deathly scared—of being poor again. The idea of losing everything stresses me out. That’s why I took up yoga and cycling. I needed a way to get out of my head and evade my fears.”

  A rough and calloused hand reached out and touched hers. Her gaze moved to his, feeling an unexpected jolt of need and desire roll over her.

  “I’ve never met a woman like you,” he said in a thick voice. “Don’t worry about returning to the hell you were in. Remember—you’re a survivor, and don’t ever forget it.”

  The ring of her phone startled her, and she quickly rummaged through her purse.

  “What a coincidence—it’s Brady.” Accepting the call, she put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Hi, this is Brady. How are you?”

  “Okay.” Shrugging, she glanced at Smokey, who suddenly looked pissed. She had no idea why.

  “You have a shift tonight, right?”

  “I do.”

  “I was thinking we could go out for a drink afterward.”

  She hesitated. “I can’t, but thanks.” The scowl across Smokey’s brow deepened. “I’m in the middle of something, so I have to go. Thanks for the reminder call about my shift.”

  “Wait—that isn’t why I called. I want to take you out for a drink. There’s no harm in that.”

  “I just told you, I can’t.” She swore she heard Smokey growl. “I have to go.”

  “What about tomorrow?”

  “I’m swamped with work right now. I have several big projects going, and I don’t have time for anything outside of work and volunteering.”

  Smokey scowled. “Tell him to fuck off.”

  “I hope you understand.” What the hell’s going on with Smokey?

  “Frankly, I don’t. I’m a nice guy, I have a good job, and I’m fairly attractive. Is it because you think you’re better than me?”

  “No, not at all. I’m just really busy with my workload. I have to go now. Bye, Brady.” Before he could answer, she ended the call.

  Smokey put his fork down and glared at her. “What the fuck’s going on between you and Brady?”

  Anger pricked at the back of her neck. “What do you mean ‘between me and Brady’? For your information, the guy creeps me out. He’s always around when I’m at the shelter, and the last time I was at the grocery store, he just so happened to be there too. I know this is a small town, but I’m starting to think he’s following me or something.”

  “He’s got the hots for you. I picked up on that when we were talking yesterday. Have you gone out with him?”

  “No. I just told you he creeps me out, not that I’m interested in him. I think he’s trying to find a mother for his kids.”

  The phone rang again.

  “If it’s Brady, give it to me.”

  Looking at the screen, she groaned. “It’s not him. It’s weirdo number two—the handyman, who also creeps me out.”

  “Why?”

  “Hang on. I have to answer this.” She sighed. “Hello?”

  “You didn’t know it was me?” Mark said.

  “Huh?”

  “I saw you plug my number into your cell phone the day I gave it to you.”

  “I wasn’t looking at the screen. What can I do for you?”

  “I thought Gabe and I could come by and finish up some stuff in the house since we’re in the neighborhood.”

  “I’m not home. And anyway, it’s Saturday.”

  There was a sharp edge to his voice. “I’ve already told you I work on Saturdays.”

  “As I said, I’m not home. If you needed to come by, you should’ve given me a heads-up.”

  “You entitled city people are all alike.”

  This guy’s a fucking nut.

  “Not true. Call me on Monday to set up a day and time to finish up. I have to go.”

  The line went dead.

  “Hello? Mark?”

  He’d hung up on her.

  “What an asshole,” she grumbled, shoving the phone into her purse.

  “What the fuck’s up with him?”

  “I don’t know. Zach hired him, probably because he offered the lowest bid. Anyway, he’s a little strange, and he makes me feel uncomfortable.”

  “When’s he coming over again?”

  “I told him to call me on Monday to set up an appointment for him and his sidekick, Gabe, to finish up with the house. I can’t wait until I don’t have to deal with either of them. Gabe is pretty quiet, but he’s always looking at me when he’s over. Whenever I’ve seen him around town, though, he acts like he doesn’t even recognize me.” Shrugging, she added, “They’re a couple of looneys, that’s for sure.”

  “Zach’s a fuckin’ cheapskate. Text me their names and I’ll check them out. I’ll be with you at the next appointment. And if there’s anything more to be done at the house, my crew will take care of it. I’ll deal with Zach on that.”

  The concern on his face made Ashley feel warm, cozy, and safe. “Thanks for caring,” she whispered.

  He squirmed in his seat. “Of course I care.”

  He’s uncomfortable talking about how he feels. The thought made her giddy.

  “We’re going to Willy’s,” he said, changing the subject.

  “Who’s Willy?”

  “The dude who saved my life and is like a dad to me. He’d be a good person to talk to about having some of the teens from the shelter work on his farm. He’d be good for them, especially Gavin.”

  She smiled. “You have a soft spot for Gavin, don’t you?”

  “He’s an okay kid who needs some direction, and Willy can give it to him.”

  “Are you speaking from personal experience?”

  He slid out of the booth. “Yeah.”

  She took his hand and stood up. “Are you going to share it with me?”

  “Not now, but I will. We have to get going.”

  After Smokey paid the bill, he put his arm around her and led her out of the diner.

  16

  The red brick farmhouse was set back from the dirt road, surrounded by large oaks and evergreens. An old weathered barn sat several yards away from the main house where a few black and white striped chickens roamed about.

  To the side of the house, six Harley-Davidson motorcycles gleamed in the early afternoon sun. Parking next to a cobalt blue bike, Smokey switched off the engine and Ashley jumped off, then opened the saddlebag to retrieve her purse. Pulling out a hair brush, she bent at the waist, flipped her head over, and ran it through her long, dark hair. As she straightened, she tossed it back, letting it fall over her shoulders, and put the brush away.

  Hooking his sunglasses to the collar of his T-shirt, he strode toward her. “That was sexy.”

  “Seriously?” She dropped the brush in her purse.

  Burying his hands in her hair, he whispered, “Seriously,” then claimed her mouth.

  “Smokey!” someone called out.

  Groaning in frustration, he pulled away and shouted, “In a minute!” He looked back at Ashley and kissed her again. “Fuck, woman. I can’t stop kissing you.”

  Leaning against him, her nipples grew taut, pushing against the fabric of her bra.

  Suddenly, the pungent, almost sweet scent of gasoline and the loud rumble of engines filled the air. Tearing her lips away from Smokey’s, she watched as five motorcycles bounded up the road at a good clip, throwing around brown clouds of dirt and rocks in their wake. The riders were robust men, clad in sleeveless denim vests that showed off strong arms covered in skulls, lightning bolts, busty women, and a multitude of other tattoo designs.

  Smokey held up his fist as they drove around to the back of the farmhouse. “Some of Willy’s friends,” he said to her.

  “So Willy’s an Insurgent?”

  “Nope. Willy and his buddies there are free riders, meaning they don’t belong to any club. They ride together, go to rallies, and even poker runs, but they’re not members of
any club.”

  “It’s kind of confusing.”

  “It can be to citizens. It’s clear to us.”

  “And I’m a ‘citizen’?”

  He laughed. “You and most of the population, but I’m not holding that against you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Thanks for that, I guess.”

  He pointed to the bikes parked next to his. “Some Insurgent members are here.”

  “Is that a good or bad thing?” she asked, gently poking him in the ribs.

  “Good. You can meet the President and VP. Before we go in, though, I want to tell you what’s up since you’re not used to the MC world. First of all, don’t talk to any of the Insurgents unless they speak to you. Second, don’t be offended if they act like you’re not there. Hawk—our VP—can be abrupt and dismissing, but don’t take it personally. Third, don’t ask any questions. If I join them and we’re talking together, don’t come up and try to join in. Don’t interrupt to ask or tell me something. I’ll try to stick close to you the whole time, but in case I have to talk with my brothers, don’t come over. You got it?”

  “I think so.” She tapped her head, acting as if she was trying to retain what he’d said.

  “I’m not fuckin’ around, this is serious shit. Let me go over it—”

  Raising her hand, she stopped him. “I got the gist of it. I’m to be seen, not heard, but being invisible is best.”

  Smokey narrowed his eyes. “I forgot one thing—don’t be a smartass.”

  “With your friends, no problem. But I make no promises once we leave Willy’s.”

  Grumbling something inaudible, he grabbed her hand and walked to the front porch. Holding the screen door open for her, she stepped inside and into a small foyer.

  From the back of the house, she heard raucous voices, and she glanced at Smokey. Letting go of her hand, he took the lead, motioning for her to follow.

  Military memorabilia, and various types of guns, decorated the walls, paired with paintings of motorcycles and the open road. A stone fireplace, several plaid-covered couches, a wet bar, and one of the biggest flat screen TVs Ashley had ever seen completed the room. Standing near the bar were several guys wearing Insurgent patches on their vests. One of them, an older man with blue eyes and blond hair, tinged with strands of gray, was staring at her. Unnerved, she grabbed Smokey’s hand as he walked toward the group.