Outlaw MC: The Complete Boxset

by Ethan Egorov

  I relax and my lips curl up in the smile I tried to hide. He is kind of charming, under this rugged demeanor he has.

  “You’re welcome. I mean it’s my job. But if that’s the case then this might be a long road forward. The most I can do right now is get you out on bail. Are you pleading not guilty?” I ask him. I am getting good at this already.

  “Hell yeah.” He chuckles once, releasing a breath. His eyes shift and I can tell he is surveying me, more than just looking at me.

  But it doesn’t feel disgusting and invasive like when other men do it for some reason. He forces his eyes back to mine before I can dwell on it too much.

  I half smile and then stop myself by moistening my lips and pulling them under my teeth before I respond. “Okay, um, so that’s… good.” I shuffle around my papers and try to put them in order. The longer I sit in front of him, the more I feel the heat clouding my senses. The energy he is giving off is very distracting and I don’t know if it is just me, but he has been calm and even this entire time, before getting a bit defensive earlier.

  “Are you new at this or something?” He asks.

  I widen my eyes, hoping he wouldn’t be able to tell, or even notice what I am doing. He doesn’t have a prior record, so I didn’t imagine he would know the process. But I guess my looking down a bunch and shuffling papers doesn’t instill much confidence. Still, I don’t want him to know that this isn’t my forte.

  “No. I’m not I just am um, a little nervous.” I lie, which is still most of the truth.

  “Because you’re new at this?” He chuckles, which kind of lightens the mood a bit. But I can’t imagine he would be so lax if he didn’t have confidence in me. Anyone about to possibly be arrested might have less jokes, but he doesn’t.

  I shake my head and laugh it off. I am being completely ridiculous. He’s a client that is trusting me to be professional and do my job, but I am sitting here flustered and acting like a first-year law student. It isn’t fair to him, whoever he is. In all my reading, I somehow missed that part and now it would look foolish of me to check.

  “Sorry. It’s inappropriate for me to um—it’s nothing.” I adjust my glasses and push them up my nose, scrunching it up. A habit that I got rid of has now come back in these few minutes. I check the clock and it’s already been about twenty minutes. I don’t have any other cases left tonight but it is still late and I have to be back in early tomorrow.

  “What’s nothing…?” He asks, and I wish this line of questioning would just be gone. But he hiked his voice up like asking for my name.

  “Paige Travers. Sorry, I guess we skipped that part.” I clear my throat and reach out to shake his hand like I should have done in the beginning. But as I suspected, his hand is warm and calloused. There aren’t really any soft parts but he feels soft against my skin for some reason, and his hand is so much bigger than mine that it is laughable. He has tattoos on the back of his hand too, the same type of colors as on his neck.

  “Roland Leighton.” He tells me.

  I swallow at the sound of it, for some reason it doesn’t really match him at all.

  “So um, unfortunately I can’t get you out on bail tonight but I’ll push for an early hearing tomorrow and I’m confident you can get out on bail. You have no priors and a clean record.” I get back to business.

  “Good. And the worst-case scenario?” He asks, and for the first time he sounds worried. He didn’t really do anything, in my opinion at least. He doesn’t appear drunk and I believe that he didn’t attack that cop. I wonder why they would lie about it in the first place.

  I blink in response, a bit shocked at it. “People don’t usually ask that.” They ask how long it will take, when they can go home, but never about it turning out bad or how bad it can be.

  “I like to have all the information.” He blinks and drags his eyes up and then down my body quickly again. I swallow at the feeling of heat all over my body but it is short lived when his eyes are back on mine.

  “Well, the judge could deny bail. I really don’t see that happening though. And the cop could go on record, forcing the charges be added to, but no one wants that kind of paperwork. You’ll be fine.” I tell him confidently, but he doesn’t seem to think so.

  I could say the same about my life right now, but after today I decide that’s just what I have to keep telling myself.

  That I’ll be fine.

  3

  Rafe

  Jail is no fun at all. I make a mental note to never end up here again but clearly, I have no control over that. Even if I hadn’t been slightly speeding, or having drank before, that cop would have found a way to get to me. I’m no stranger to guys not liking the club and what we do, cops especially. But I forgot that it can get me in real trouble.

  That all went out the window when I met Paige though.

  She’s refreshing. So different from the other chicks around the bar, ones that I used to know. And she is obviously smart, because she’s a lawyer. I tried to focus in there but she is so damn gorgeous, it was hard to. That red hair and pale skin, the sight of it drove me crazy, along with her soft voice and soft demeanor. It’s like she didn’t belong in that room at all, she probably doesn’t. I don’t buy that she has been doing this for a long time though, even though she wanted me to believe it.

  I was able to visit with Spencer, but only for a few minutes. I just told him I couldn’t get out on bail and reminded him not to tell anyone about this. He’ll be at the club tomorrow and I know the guys are nosy, so I told him I would get myself home. All I can do is hope that the bail hearing goes well tomorrow, and that Paige was right.

  The night is uncomfortable as hell. The mattress is just a sad lump, and the room feels like a stale box. I inhale the leather of my cut I use as a pillow so the smell isn’t permanently etched in my brain. I wake up sore and pissed off that this all even happened. I’m given disposable hygiene products in the morning and that’s it, I wet my hair as it got pretty messed up over night and hope the judge doesn’t judge me based off my leather jacket and tattoos like most everyone else does.

  Paige didn’t seem to have done that though.

  She actually listened to what I had to say and didn’t assume that I was lying or something, which I was appreciative of. But now I just hope this will actually go my way.

  “Wait here.” I’m left in a room by the bookie again, after going to the court house. It’s a small cell with a bench that hurts my ass, but I sit anyway.

  I look up and watch the door swing open, when I see her.

  It’s Paige striding in, with a huge black leather binder packed with case files. I didn’t know the business professional look was this attractive, but it is on her.

  She has pants on today though, gray slacks that hug the curves I didn’t get to see yesterday, and they are mighty fine too, from her full thighs to rounded hips. A black button up is tucked in, her buttons a little tighter today too, but her tits still look amazing as hell in them. Her eyes scan the room and she finds me, her steps slow but I notice her glasses more, trapping her soft gray eyes in them. Her vibrant red hair is up in a ponytail, which shows off more of her smooth skin and elongated neck, no good for my concentration today. I watch her full lips purse up as she stops in front of me, behind the metal bars. I get as close as I can and half grin at her.

  “Good morning, Paige.” I turn it in to a full smile and watch her blush farther, fidgeting with the binder. I decide I shouldn’t distract her and reign it in a bit, this is my case after all.

  “Good morning, um Mr. Leighton.” She adjusts the binder to hold it in front of her self and clears her throat.

  “You can call me Roland.” I chuckle once. If I remembered my dad, I would tell her my dad is Mr. Leighton or some shit like that, but it wouldn’t be true. I have no idea who he is. Probably a dead beat like some of the other criminals in here right now.

  “Okay. It’s just more professional that way. For the judge.” She explains, looking up at me.r />
  I lean against the bars and smirk at her, unable to help myself.

  “So you can call me Roland in private then?”

  Her eyes widen and she stutters over her words.

  “Sure. Anyway, this is just a simple bail hearing. You’ll read your plea out and then the judge will most likely grant bail for a certain amount. I hope it’s not too high but if you need to put up your house as collateral that works too. Is anyone coming to get you after?” She asks.

  I hear everything she says and am convinced it will be fine. I tell myself it will, so I try to get her to loosen up a bit.

  “No. I can’t leave with you? As my lawyer I mean.” I cross my arms and stare down at her.

  Her cheeks darken even more before she firms her lips.

  “Do you not care about your case at all?” She accuses.

  I chuckle once, “It’s in good hands with you, isn’t it?” I raise my brows.

  “You better not be this smug in front of the judge. She’s a hard hitter and doesn’t go easy on people.” She tells me. I guess to try and scare me but it doesn’t work. I know how to play people up; I do half of that for the club.

  “Look, we both know I’m telling the truth and that I’m not guilty.”

  “Fine.” She shrugs her shoulders. “We just wait for our turn.” She adds.

  I nod once.

  “You don’t have any other clients today?” I ask her.

  She blinks and bites at her lip again.

  “What, I can’t ask you questions either?” I chuckle.

  She shakes her head, “No I um—nothing. I don’t have any new ones yet; the others don’t have trial dates set.”

  I nod, “Oh, okay. So I have you all to myself.” I shift in my boots and she gives me a funny look. She smiles to herself before shaking her head.

  “I hope you aren’t flirting with me, Roland.” She says. My name falls off her lips and I’m convinced I have to hear it when it’s breathy and begging me for more. But I stow away those thoughts and focus on that situation at hand.

  “Would that be such a bad thing?” I chuckle.

  “Yeah. Yeah it would. I’m your lawyer, I should be focused on the case.”

  “Yeah, and I’m the case. Just tell me something.” I narrow my eyes at her as I smile.

  She licks her lips and twists them as she thinks before eventually giving up.

  “Okay.” She sighs.

  I come as close as I can and notice her leaning in closer too.

  “Was yesterday really your first day?” I ask. Her eyes widen in that same way before she blinks and clears her throat defensively.

  “Yes. But I’ve been a lawyer for a long time. Just in private law.” She explains and I laugh aloud.

  “No shit, you’re one of those briefcase wearing, snobby lawyers?” I accuse, and she juts back in response. Before she can though, the door swings open and we’re called in. I kind of wish that wasn’t the last thing I said to her.

  It is the same thing that people do to me, assume that I am a violent law breaker and nothing else. And she didn’t even seem like that. But I don’t have time to relay that fact, before we are called into the courtroom.

  It goes as she suspected. I plead not guilty and request bail, the state agrees that it was nonviolent and isn’t really worthy of taking up a spot in jail until a trial date is set. I hope I can just plead out or something or make a deal but that’s down the line and if Paige didn’t bring it up, then I’m not going to worry myself over it.

  “Thank you, Your Honor.” I say respectfully, after I am released on a ten-thousand-dollar bail. That isn’t so bad, I have money saved and don’t need to take out a bond. And Paige doesn’t need to know I make my money doing less than legal things, since I don’t really spend it, no one notices.

  I glance at her on our way out and the front she put up for court is gone.

  “Look, I’m sorry about what I said. Thank you for getting me out on bail.” I tell her, and refrain from adding how sexy it was while she talked about a bunch of legal shit that made my head spin.

  “Don’t worry about it. You’ll get a letter in the mail for your trial date. See you then.” She moves to walk away and I call after her, but she doesn’t respond. I did piss her off, and I should worry about it. Women.

  The bookie takes me to get my belongings and I stand outside the courthouse prepared to call a cab or something, but those never run and take hours. Not even the bus can get me to the tow building where my bike is.

  Spencer is at the bar and I’m not asking anyone else, having them know what happened. To say I am pissed would be an understatement.

  I walk down the steps, angry, until I see a familiar swing of red hair.

  Paige.

  4

  Paige

  I leave the courthouse feeling ten degrees hotter than when I went inside. I never thought of what would happen, if I came face to face with a client like that. Perhaps because I have had training to that effect and learned how to not see clients as real people. I hadn’t learned how to not notice my coworkers, which is why I am here in the first place. An ivy league undergraduate, best law school in the country and most prestigious internship and associate job—then this is where I end up. Public service is good, a lot of genuine people that can’t afford legal counsel, but this is something I don’t think I prepared for.

  I tell myself that all I have to do is get him out on bail tomorrow and then never see him again. From the looks of it, the judge could just drop the charges altogether, in fact I might push for it myself just so I don’t have to be in the same room alone with him again. It’s too unnerving, Roland is way too pretty for my own good. And not just pretty, hot as sin; those tattoos and his wry smirk play in my head, even as I lay my head down to sleep. Which is usually the worst time; I get to thinking about Jason and what he did, about sleeping alone for the first time in two years. The past few months haven’t gotten any easier. Now I have to think about a man whom I know nothing about, only that he looks like something out of a motorcycle club film, and I thought Hollywood always overdid those.

  I’m glad that once I wake up and go through my morning routine, my phone rings with a call from a good friend of mine, whom I only talk to every once in a while, after leaving college.

  “Hey Lauren,” I answer and put her on speaker, while I fix up a bowl of oatmeal. It’s not because I am budgeting more now, I’m just one of those people who can eat oatmeal by choice.

  “Paige, I just walked by this guy that looked exactly like our political science professor and I had to call you.” She chimes in her soft voice.

  “I’m glad that’s what it takes for you to call me.” I laugh, cringing at the memory of that professor. He was bald and pudgy, not a good sight at all, especially since he smelled like horseradish.

  “Shut up, you know I call you. How was the move?” She asks. I hear her walking around the streets of New York, where she went to medical school after graduation. She’s in her last year and is always busy, which is understandable.

  “It was okay. The drive wasn’t that bad and I unpacked everything last night.”

  “Oh that’s good, I know how you like to do everything at once. What about work though? Is the public defender life anything like the movies?”

  I giggle, “Honestly, it kind of is. Really busy all the time, but none of the defendants are that bad…” I trail off, flashes of Roland hitting my brain again. I sigh and take a bite of my oatmeal to occupy myself.

  “That doesn’t sound very convincing at all.” She laughs.

  “Well, I mean it. What about medical school?”

  “It’s my last year, so I’m just waiting on my matches to come up. I can come visit in the break that I have. We could do something.” She suggests. But for us that always goes one of two ways, we plan, and it falls through or we never plan at all. Adult life is just busy and it’s nothing like college, we were roommates and never had to plan anything.

  “Yeah
that sounds great. I’m glad you called.”

  “Of course. I just wanted to check on you, I know things have been hard with Jason and what not. I hate that guy.”

  “I’m right there with you.” I laugh, but it doesn’t reach a smile, because it’s still kind of raw.

  “I hope it gets better. Hey, I have to catch this subway so I’m gonna lose you. But try to text me more, I forget to, but I’ll reply if you do.” She laughs.

  I agree with her and we hang up shortly after. I finish breakfast and go to find something respectable to wear for work. Something that reminds me I am not trying to look nice for Roland’s bail hearing. I have dozens of other clients; I am looking nice for them—which is what I tell myself.

  I settle on a black button up and gray slacks, tie my hair into a ponytail since the air conditioning sucks in the building and I don’t want to overheat. Frizz is what full bodied, big red hair does in warm temperatures. I hate it, but I have grown to manage it.

  The drive is short, since I found a place downtown, it’s finding parking that makes me two minutes late. Which sucks, since this is only my second day, but my boss doesn’t notice and neither do the other lawyers in here.

  Kayla walks in with two lattes from an upscale coffee place and sets it next to my stale, free coffee here.

  “This is for me?” I half smile at her, looking up in shock.

  She grins at me, “Yeah, you’re the only person that doesn’t irritate me around here.” She sits at her desk in front of me, dropping her bag down. She has on a vibrant purple skirt suit, which I think is a little overdressed for this place but that could just be me.

  “Give me a few months.” I look at the emblem and then sip the latte. “This is like an eight-dollar latte.” I tell her, implying that I know how much we both get paid per year, this can’t be a regular thing.