Outlaw MC: The Complete Boxset

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Outlaw MC: The Complete Boxset Page 35

by Ethan Egorov


  After I order, I sit back down with our drinks, beer for me and lemonade for her.

  “Do you always drink beer?” She frowns at the bottle and I laugh.

  “Most of the time. Are you going to give me a health evaluation about it?” I grin at her.

  Her blue eyes light up with her smile, she twists her lips and shakes her head at me.

  “No, I’m just saying. Besides, what I’ve been told was just for fitting in society worthy dresses.” She giggles.

  I lean on my arms to get a little closer to her.

  “And that would be?”

  She sighs, “My father is a very successful businessman. In holdings. I had a life full of charity events and dinners. I hated it but if it meant pleasing him, I decided to just keep doing it. I thought he might change one day.” Her eyes turn sad and I feel for her, but I don’t know what I might be able to tell her.

  “What about your mom?” I ask, and her smile drops immediately before she forces it back.

  “She died when I was younger. I wish I could say it made him different, but he was the same way before. She was just there as a buffer.” She shrugs and sips some of her lemonade. Looking at her in the fine fabric of her dress reminds me to text Jeannine about those clothes and so I do.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, it must have been hard.”

  “College was a little better, but as long as he was paying for my life it would never be my own.”

  “And so, you’re here.” I grin. She smiles and nods.

  “Yeah. Have you always lived here?” She asks. I set my phone down and focus on her.

  “Yep. My mom taught high school here and my dad is an accountant.”

  She smiles, “That sounds incredibly normal. You don’t seem that way.” Her gaze turns apprehensive.

  “I don’t? Well, I am. Don’t let the MC fool you, most of the time we are just a bunch of guys on bikes.” I lie. Well, halfway. That is true for most of the time. Others, we’re owning our turf and doing not so legal things. I spent the morning tabulating cash from a drug run and gun transport combined. None of us carry, but there is a lot of money to be made in protecting the people that do.

  “Hm. Okay. Are they still around?”

  “Sort of. They travel a lot, but they visit sometimes.” It might be too awkward to say I live in their house. It’s technically mine since I pay for the mortgage, but I still grew up in it.

  “And you joined the MC after…?”

  “College.”

  Her eyes widen and I laugh, before she covers it up.

  “No, it’s okay. Most people have the same reaction.” We are interrupted by the pizza coming, the smell reminding me how hungry I am. And we pause to get a few bites in. She even eats like she was coached on it, the same way her posture is too perfect, the way she walks and talks. I honestly feel like I’m talking to a princess, the pet name comes naturally.

  “I studied finance, always had a thing for numbers.”

  Chantal dabs the corner of her mouth with her napkin and stares across the table at me.

  “So, you’re smart.”

  “Don’t sound so surprised.” I chuckle. She flusters and tries to correct herself.

  “No, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry. I just—well you seem smart too anyway.”

  “So, do you.” I smile at her. After another slice each the pizza is half gone and I don’t really want to pig out in front of her, and she doesn’t seem keen on eating too much either. But at least she didn’t try and order a salad instead.

  “I used to think so. But I also hopped on a bus and came to an unknown place with absolutely no plan behind it. And now I have maybe two grand from my uncle to last until I’m on my feet again. Not so smart.”

  I laugh at her but not in the sense that’s at her amusement, she laughs too, and I find it endearing. Most of what she does is endearing.

  “Well it brought you to me, and I’m pretty smart if I say so myself. Plus, I know how to make a budget.” I grab a napkin and the signing pen from the bill. Leaning over the table, I push the plates out of the way, and she leans over too. I get distracted by her leaning close and pressing her cleavage against her dress, but I digress.

  “So, you’ve got two thousand dollars. Around here it could last you a while, maybe four months. That is, if you crash at the club for a bit.”

  “It’s fairly safe right?”

  “Yep.” I nod and cross out a number, start with another one. “So, you only have to worry about getting some clothes, you can get around without a car, and then you just need miscellaneous stuff. You know where you want to work yet?”

  “I’m not sure.” She blinks.

  “Well, either way. That leaves you with about a couple hundred dollars a month until you get things going.” I tell her.

  “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever made a budget before.” She eyes the pizza. “Have you?”

  I chuckle, “No, I don’t need one.” I grin at her. The club leaves me with good money, and I don’t have anyone else to worry about, at my age, that leaves for a lot of good spending potential.

  “Okay, mister prepared.” She giggles at me. I get the sense she has a sense of humor; she is good at laughing at herself and me too.

  “I’d rather get a job related to business. But that might take a while, especially around here.” She says. She goes on to tell me about studying the retail part of business and so I suggest working at the shop. I don’t tell her that I own it, by technicality. Rafe owns the bar part of the club, I have the shop.

  “Are you actually hiring or just doing me a favor?” Her eyes narrow.

  “Which would be worse?” I lean in and grin at her. She holds a poker face before laughing once.

  “I don’t know. I guess it sounds alright.” She pauses and gives me a long look. My gaze drifts down to her lips and I let them linger there for a while before I go back to looking in her eyes.

  “Logan, why are you doing all this? Be honest with me, even though you don’t know me all that well. Because I don’t know you that well either and yet—I don’t know.” She blinks, trailing off.

  I stall in my breath and try to force myself to answer her, but I don’t want to lie. The truth is that I don’t really know either.

  6

  Chantal

  I see my face in the mirror and nearly scream. I was walking around looking like this?

  I make quick work with one of my mini make up wipes and put a little gloss on. Knowing Logan is waiting for me makes be a bit nervous, but more excited. It’s nice talking to him, I don’t feel judged or like I am trying to prove something. These past few hours, I have felt more like myself. So, I walk back out with a pep in my step to meet him, furrowing his brow at the ground like he is thinking hard. This man is just so damned gorgeous it’s hard to breathe yet I feel light as air.

  Even when we stop at a pizza shack, I don’t think about the calories first but instead being happy just to be around him. Logan is nice, funny, charming for sure. More genuine than the men I am used to. I can tell that he is older, but I just don’t want to ask. He goes to order the pizza, after teasing me, and sets a mouthwatering lemonade in front of me.

  “Do you always drink beer?” I fake a frown at his bottle of beer and laugh once.

  “Most of the time. Are you going to give me a health evaluation about it?” His grin is equal parts distracting and warming.

  I purse up my lips as I swallow. He has taken his jacket off, and his black inked arms contrast the red booth and table cloth. The place looks so traditional, it’s kind of endearing. This small town is growing on me already.

  “No, I’m just saying. Besides, what I’ve been told was just for fitting in society worthy dresses.” I half giggle. But it’s true. Back home I couldn’t be caught dead eating pizza, even at college. I enjoy that type of food, but I was always afraid of liking it too much and eating my feelings away or something. With my luck it would happen. But the place smells like delicious pizza d
ough and I am already done for.

  He surprises me by leaning on his forearms to be closer to me on the table. I can inhale sharply and get his warm, cologne scent. I want to feel it closer to me, like when I am on his bike with him, but I can take this for now.

  “And that would be?” He speculates.

  I give up trying to dance around it and decide to go all in after a heavy sigh, “My father is a very successful businessman. In holdings. I had a life full of charity events and dinners. I hated it but if it meant pleasing him, I decided to just keep doing it. I thought he might change one day.” I feel the sadness hit my eyes before I can stop it. But luckily, he doesn’t dwell on it or get weird. That’s just how my life was, pleasing my father, playing the right role. I finally grew enough to realize I was being played.

  “What about your mom?” He asks me.

  “She died when I was younger. I wish I could say it made him different, but he was the same way before. She was just there as a buffer.” My expression turns grave. He knowledges me and then does some typing on his phone, I suspect texting someone. But then he turns his attention back to me.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, it must have been hard.” His voice is like a comfort to me. He doesn’t try to pry my feelings away or even tell me how to feel. Logan is one of the good guys, I can already tell.

  “College was a little better, but as long as he was paying for my life it would never be my own.” I add.

  “And so, you’re here.” His grin makes me smile.

  “Yeah. Have you always lived here?” I turn the conversation back on him so I can breathe easier. I didn’t get all nervous saying that, but it is still pretty personal stuff, not something to outright disclose.

  “Yep. My mom taught high school here and my dad is an accountant.” He answers.

  I smile at that fact, “That sounds incredibly normal. You don’t seem that way.” I look him over; the whole dark hair and green eyes look is hard to get past. Especially when it is connected to the bike and MC thing. Even still, his eyes are soft and welcoming, he doesn’t seem like a bad guy at all.

  “I don’t? Well, I am. Don’t let the MC fool you, most of the time we are just a bunch of guys on bikes.”

  I am not fully convinced but I don’t want to pry. It’s like I am hoping there is no reason for me to suspect him of anything bad. I can get past a lot of things, but I don’t know if crime is one of them.

  “Hm. Okay. Are they still around?” I ask him, not wanting to tread uncharted territory too fast.

  “Sort of. They travel a lot, but they visit sometimes.” He says, and I understand him a bit easier too. He seems like he has a happy home life, a normal one. You can tell when people grew up in less than ideal situations and he has this well-rounded air to him.

  “And you joined the MC after…?”

  “College.”

  I am shocked at him saying that but didn’t want to make it obvious. From the look on his face it seems like I already did.

  “No, it’s okay. Most people have the same reaction.” He chuckles and shrugs it off. But it must suck when people assume you aren’t smart or capable of something. People would do it to me, expecting me to have studied fashion or something or not have gone to college at all.

  “I studied finance, always had a thing for numbers.” He explains, and somehow that makes him even more sexy to me. A smart guy, one that can do math in his head—I don’t know why it sends me it just does. We talk as I am eating, and I finish my last slice, dabbing the corner of my mouth. I’m glad I didn’t mess up my gloss at all.

  “So, you’re smart.” I giggle.

  “Don’t sound so surprised.” His chuckle is short lived as I try and correct myself, I need to stop sounding so accusatory.

  “No, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry. I just—well you seem smart too anyway.” I correct.

  “So, do you.” His smile is warm.

  We both have another slice, and I am absolutely stuffed now.

  “I used to think so. But I also hopped on a bus and came to an unknown place with absolutely no plan behind it. And now I have maybe two grand from my uncle to last until I’m on my feet again. Not so smart.”

  He laughs at me but not in a way that makes me feel dumb. Or feel dumber.

  “Well it brought you to me, and I’m pretty smart if I say so myself. Plus, I know how to make a budget.” He says, and I don’t know if he meant that we were meant to meet or something else, but I think it is too soon for that. Anyway, he grabs a napkin and pen and starts writing on the napkin, even his handwriting is pretty.

  “So, you’ve got two thousand dollars. Around here it could last you a while, maybe four months. That is, if you crash at the club for a bit.” He says.

  “It’s fairly safe right?” I check. Not that I think it is dangerous or anything, but it is a place full of men most of the time. He said it is like its own apartment, but I am still worried a little. It’s an unknown place after all.

  “Yep.” He starts over with a new base number. “So, you only have to worry about getting some clothes, you can get around without a car, and then you just need miscellaneous stuff. You know where you want to work yet?” He asks me.

  “I’m not sure.” I tense up. Getting the perfect job is going to have to wait until I can sleep regularly at night again.

  “Well, either way. That leaves you with about a couple hundred dollars a month until you get things going.” He sounds so assure saying it that I believe him right away.

  “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever made a budget before.” I look at the pizza like I am calculating the cost, perhaps I am. “Have you?”

  He laughs, “No, I don’t need one.” His grin makes me feel like he has a little secret, but I don’t ask.

  “Okay, mister prepared.” I cackle at him. I like using my sense of humor for something other than buffering someone else’s bad joke or lightening the mood, like my dad would make me do at his parties.

  “I’d rather get a job related to business. But that might take a while, especially around here.” I say. At least I can be somewhat practical.

  But when he suggests working at some tee shirt shop he knows about, I’m apprehensive. And not because it is a tee shirt shop but because I feel like he has already pulled out the stops for me. He even bought the food without telling me, though I don’t know what I would have paid with either.

  “Are you actually hiring or just doing me a favor?” I ask him, just to make sure.

  “Which would be worse?” He leans in and evades the question.

  “I don’t know. I guess it sounds alright.” I lean forward and hold his gaze. He nods slowly, moistens his lips before his eyes draw down and I know he is looking at mine. I know how he looks at me, and how he acts around me. It isn’t just to be nice, but I now know it isn’t because he wants something from me either. But if he might want that down the line, it would be easier to know now, in case I have to push some feelings away.

  “Logan, why are you doing all this? Be honest with me, even though you don’t know me all that well. Because I don’t know you that well either and yet—I don’t know.” I thought I found the right words, but I apparently hadn’t. Because I feel like I sound crazy.

  Logan leans closer to the table; we are so close I could reach out and kiss him if I wanted to. If he wanted to. But we don’t. And I realize how much I want to, the way his full lips look so kissable, how he is so easily…debilitating. He takes a deep breath and looks me right in my eyes.

  “Look princess, you seem great. But you’re at a low point right now, I’m not gonna add to your vulnerability or take advantage of it. Like I said, I think you’re great. But I just want to help you out, we can be friends. Everyone needs a friend, right?” He half smiles and I don’t believe him.

  Clearly, he believes it or wants to. But the way he is looking at me… it doesn’t seem like just friends. Maybe it can be or should be right now. He gives my lips one last look and leans back in the
seat; I do the same. Feeling a little discouraged, but not wanting to press the issue at the same time.

  “Okay, just friends.” I reach out and shake his hand for good measure, and he chuckles once as his hand closes around mine. I pull it away as soon as possible. He offers to get me dessert, but I decline, suddenly I want time to myself for a while.

  That’s exactly what happens when I get on his bike and we go back to the club. The little apartment is off the back with its own key to get in. Sometimes the guys crash here but he said they haven’t done that in a while, so it is a little dusty but once he leaves, I start cleaning things up and fluffing the sheets out. It is a little dingy, but I don’t want to be the prim and proper complainer. I can do this for now.

  Logan comes back briefly with Jeannine and a bag of clothes I can borrow. I’m really grateful for it but I need to get my own first thing tomorrow. There are fresh sheets there too, and after Logan leaves, I’m sad to find that they are his—because they smell like him and it is disappointing. Knowing that it won’t be like that between us. It has only been a few hours but that is all it takes. Logan did meet me at a vulnerable time, but I have a level head, he isn’t taking advantage of me. If anything, it is me taking advantage of him.

  I shower, put one of the night shirts on and try to sleep, with Logan’s scent all around me.

  7

  Chantal

  A few weeks later…

  I am fairly good at this, anyone would be, but since this is the last thing I imagined myself doing, I have to take some credit for it. Folding clothes, I mean. A lot of them. Over and over. Mostly shirts and a few tank tops, but they are all pretty much the same thing.

  I’ve worked at the tee shirt shop for a few weeks now, in fact today marks an entire two months since I have been here. In that time, I have grown familiar with the town which isn’t that hard. But I work here at the shop most of the time and busy myself with inventory and balancing the drawer, which Logan often helps with anyway. I made friends with Jeannine too, she reminds me of the people I would have been friends with in college if I ran in normal social circles. She’s nice and very helpful, and I think I borrowed half her wardrobe until I built up my own. My dad hasn’t called, I don’t expect him to since he cut off my phone and I had to get a burner. I talk to my uncle every few days, but I told him he doesn’t have to send me any more money, I like doing this on my own. I have grown in this time more than I have my whole life, and I guess I should thank my dad even though it is horrible that he did this to me. I have kept my head up though and tried to keep Logan at a distance too. Except that’s the hardest thing, he has been so nice to me and yet he only wants to be friends. I don’t know if it is because I’m young, I found out he is thirty-one. Which isn’t old but considering the fact I am a fresh twenty-two kind of makes it out to be that way.

 

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