Outlaw MC: The Complete Boxset

by Ethan Egorov

  I strip off my bar smelling clothes and decide to go to the gym. I expect it will help me get rid of some of this pent-up energy. Usually I don’t have it unless I’m going on a run or scaring the shit out of one of the Devil’s Princes. While I don’t necessarily like violence being the only thing that gets me going, it’s where I’m at right now. Has been for a long time. Joining the club wasn’t just about making myself out to be some big frightening guy. In fact, Tank wanted the exact opposite for me. My dad too. But neither of them is here now so there isn’t much left for me to do. The only skill I have is keeping as far away as possible.

  After pumping the iron for a bit, I head back up to my place. The gym is only a half mile down the road anyway. I live outside the city, the farthest out of any guy at the club. I like it that way because then they are less inclined to come visit me or some shit. I take a shower and heat up a frozen dinner, one of the healthier ones that consequently tastes like shit. I text Kit that I got his sister home safely, but I don’t expect him to answer since he was pretty hammered too and might not be paying much attention to his phone. I only do it so I feel like I’ve completed my task and that I can try and get her off my mind.

  But I can’t.

  She looked damn gorgeous tonight. She does most of the time I see her. I don’t know much about her; only what Kit has told me and the little bit that I’ve seen for myself. But I want to even though I know it’s not a good idea. Amy has a quality to her that I can feel from across any room. It would be too weird for me to try and talk to her, though, it’s like we are supposed to be friends because of how we know each other. I don’t tell many people about it, but when I mentioned it to my own sister, she agreed that Amy was kind of off limits. Women are a hard limit, and I wouldn’t want my own sister with one of us, so I don’t expect Kit to be okay with it. I don’t even want to ask him because I know the answer already and don’t want the idea in his head either. Basically, I’m screwed. Crushing on a girl I don’t even know, one that probably doesn’t feel the same way about me.

  Amy was plastered. It has to be the only reason she was outright flirting with me. I’m not the kind of guy to assume everyone is flirting but it’s the way she invited me in. Swaying her hips and shit. She had no idea that I was already close to my limit, but I’d never do something when she was like that. I’d like her to remember it. But instead of more dwelling on that, I force myself to go to bed, which is difficult since I’ve been on the verge of a hard on since I laid eyes on Amy. It feels wrong thinking about her that way, but too damn right at the same time, and so I take care of my shit and then I pass out into an uneventful sleep.

  “I think I’m gonna pass out.”

  I laugh at Kit doubled over the weight bench, putting his head between his knees.

  “Why did you come to the gym when you clearly have a hangover?” I ask him curiously.

  “It helps.”

  “It looks like it’s killing you but okay.” I shake my head at him and do another set of pull ups. My body wasn’t even sore from last night since it wasn’t a real workout. I go every day except Sunday, lifting weights and pushing my body to the limit is my favorite pastime. The only one that doesn’t stress me out. Unless it’s a group class day at the gym and there are women looking at me, taking video with their phones. I’m sure there aren’t any videos of me left, but I don’t like the idea of being on the internet. If I ever get caught from my illegal activity, there is a paper trail of me now.

  I finish and Kit is barely standing up to his chest presses.

  “When did you get home?” He asks me. I frown in the mirror at the question. The gym is empty except one guy on the treadmill.

  “Uh, pretty late after I dropped Amy off. She was pretty drunk.” I explain. He laughs and shakes his head.

  “Amy doesn’t drink very much. Two wines and she’ll lose her shit, it’s kind of sad.”

  “Well, she’s a doctor now so she might have new reasons to drink.” I murmur. It feels weird talking to him about her, but he seems none the wiser to it. I clench my jaw and do another set to keep my mind from really going there.

  “That’s true. Or picking a residency to do.” He adds. He does another set and this time he doesn’t turn green.

  “Yeah exactly.” I say like I know what that even means.

  After we finish, we change out of our sweaty clothes in the locker room. Kit and I work out together a couple times a week. Sometimes Rafe or Spencer will come but that’s a slim chance since he has a gym at his place that’s closer. But I’m closer to Kit than any of the other guys. We got along easy after he joined the club a little after me. I was there before him or Rafe, even Logan. But most people don’t know why, and I’d like to keep it that way. That’s why it makes me nervous when I run into Tank, and especially when he left the club. I dreaded him making me the pres and I’m glad he didn’t, Rafe is better at it than me.

  “Are you still single?”

  I nearly choke on my smoothie, “That’s no way to ask a dude out.” I say to Kit. He laughs and leans back in the chair. The juicing place we went to is a hot spot in town. Most of the college kids from the city fill up the place over the summer.

  “You know what I mean.”

  I swallow and wonder why he is even asking me this.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  He shrugs, “No reason. Just, maybe you’d be a little less grumpy if you were getting some.” He laughs.

  “I get plenty.” I respond. Referring to the two contacts in my phone that only get used once or twice a month. I met each of them at random places and they’re the only ones that don’t overstay their welcome. It’s not even because I don’t do relationships, I’m sure I can, I just don’t want to. Not with the kind of life I live.

  “Yeah, well, a girlfriend makes your life easier. Less depressing.”

  “Just because you got your shit together after Emily doesn’t mean it’s for everyone.” I chide.

  “It took her breaking up with me to do it. Besides, I swore up and down I’d never have a girlfriend.”

  I sigh and let him ramble on. I stare out the window at people passing by and living their lives. Sometimes it amazes me that people can be so different. I read and terrorize rival club members in my free time, other people just read.

  “You two getting married or something?” I ask, trying to figure out where all this relationship talk is coming from. His bright eyes grow wide and he chuckles.

  “I don’t know. I think about asking her all the time, but I think it’s pretty much implied. We have a joint checking account now.”

  “You mean the one you just put money in and put her name on it?” I tilt my head at him, and he nods like it’s a normal thing everyone does. Since he actually started working for his dad’s company and doesn’t just live off his shares, he makes a lot more money. It’s pretty cool that he didn’t just leave the club. In fact, he and Logan found another way to hide our bigger cash payouts by buying empty land and sanctioning it off. If we ever need the cash, those assets can be liquidated. The way the Devil’s Princes are going, we might need to.

  “Emily doesn’t like me buying her stuff. Directly, at least.” He explains himself. Though it’s hardly an explanation.

  I finish my drink and think over my next move. Kit and I are pretty close, it makes me think I can even ask him this.

  “Why is your sister still single? I mean, it doesn’t seem like she has a make attention problem.” I clear my throat and realize my face is growing hot. I hope it will just look like it’s from my workout instead of my nerves. Kit has a blank face that makes me want to back down until he chuckles.

  “It’s not like anything is wrong with her. I’m the one that doesn’t like the male attention. Doesn’t matter if she’s my older sister or not. You know how it is.” He shrugs and crosses his arms and I nod in agreement. When Olivia brings guys around, I feel like I’m having a heart attack. I’m protective of her, like she is to me. Whoever our parents are or
where they are, they must have done something right in the beginning because the two of us are really close. Maybe we had to be because growing up, we were all we had, being bounced around foster homes until she was old enough for us to live alone. We had no choice but to stick together.

  “Yeah, I know.” I shake my head.

  “Plus, she’s been in school for literally the past eight years. Science geeks aren’t that exciting, so I’ve heard.” He shudders and tells me about the time she graphically explained to him the worst sex she ever had with a guy that wanted to map out her anatomy. It doesn’t sound very fun to me.

  “I’m not worried about her though. She just has a hard time being social.”

  “She doesn’t seem shy.” I murmur.

  “Not when she’s drunk. She only gets like that maybe once a year, at the end of every school year back when she is in college. She almost got married in Vegas.” He laughs at the memory. I remember him telling me that a while ago, but I forgot.

  Amy didn’t seem shy at all. She seemed bold and carefree, but maybe it was just the liquid courage. I’d still like to know what she’s like normally, though, and not see her only once or twice a year. I have no idea how I might do that but it’s getting harder not to guess about it.

  We head out after a few minutes and since he took his car, he drops me off. It was different, getting used to him driving a car. But he seems to have assimilated to his new life well. It makes me want to make some changes, but I don’t know where to start. I have a routine; stay at my place for a few weeks until another asshole in the other MC makes a scene and I have to go over there. Then I come back. It’s simple. It doesn’t need much change but after last night… I don’t know. Thinking about Amy has changed my perspective, I just don’t know if it’s good or bad yet.

  4

  Amy

  I wake up to a splitting headache. I deserve it honestly, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. I’m nauseous too which sucks because as soon as I get up, I hurl into the trash can by my bed. At least it was there to begin with. When my head starts spinning, I get up and take a semi cold shower. I’m freezing when I get out and throw on a big shirt.

  It takes until after I get downstairs and take some pain medicine that I remember Darius was here. In my kitchen. If I try hard enough, I might be able to smell his cologne, but it doesn’t work. I can only imagine how it made me feel to inhale his scent, to be pressed up against his body. Maybe that’s why my knees are weak.

  I go over to the living room and start checking my phone. I had to buy a new couch after I learned of Kit’s escapades with Emily, so I have to break the cushions in before they are comfortable. My stomach is doing flips as I answer my friends’ texts. Ashley thinks I died; Tara is assuring her that I didn’t. I jump into the group chat and calm their worries. I met them both my first year of med school and we were almost instant friends, we got paired in a study group together. After third year, they decided to go into dermatology. Lucky them. I have five years left as a surgical resident. My parents were always confused as to why I want to be a surgeon, I was too for a long time. I don’t know which specialty yet; I just know it has to have the least amount of research required. I hated that shit.

  We make plans for lunch tomorrow, but I can’t think of eating for a long time. I sip on soda water as I watch daytime pop culture news, watching celebrities’ lives unfold is one of my favorite pastimes. I keep thinking an exam or assignment is looming over my head but there aren’t any, not until July when I start my residency. I haven’t decided where yet. I matched to two places on either side of the country, one is close, the other is in California. It would be a big decision to leave this house I grew up in, my brother behind, my friends. I don’t know how to decide, so I just push the thought away. Only, it gets replaced by Darius which isn’t much better.

  It might be because he is so damned sexy that I can’t stop thinking about him. But he is more than just a hot guy, he always has been. I look in his eyes and see so much sadness and darkness that all I can think of is how to help him, how to get through to him. But I don’t even know him that way. Kit wouldn’t talk about him the same way I would, all I know is he is a loyal friend. Which means we probably don’t stand a chance. Not that I would know how to initiate that anyway. But if I did, he would surely turn me down because of Kit. I both like and hate that.

  I think of calling my friends to ask them what to do, but I figure I should wait until tomorrow. Give myself another night to sleep on it.

  Around three, I start feeling better, enough to walk around at least. I take a walk outside to sweat some of it off. This neighborhood hasn’t changed a bit since I was a kid. I have memories on every street corner. Riding bikes with the other kids, running to the school bus when I was late, chasing Kit around back when I hated having a little brother. The ones with my parents hurt the most, and when I get to the park my dad and I used to go to, I turn back around and go home. I’ve accepted them dying; maybe not as much as Kit has, but I’m close enough, I think. For now, anyway. They would have loved to see me graduate. I thought of them the whole time I was on stage and almost cried, but I forced myself not to. Until afterwards when I was getting ready for the party. And then I drank too much to try and drown it away. Now I’m here.

  After another cold shower, I put on jeans and a cozy alumni tee shirt as I take inventory of the fridge to grocery shop soon. I’m not expecting anyone when someone knocks at my door. I ignore it because I think it might be girls selling Girl Scout cookies and I don’t need that temptation. But then the knock is more aggressive, and I decide to answer it.

  I jog to the front door and unlatch it, swinging it open and then think I am still dreaming.

  “Darius? What are you doing here?” I gape. My throat tightens like I might barf again, but my stomach is settled, minus the overflow of butterflies right now. He’s in a dark tee shirt and his cut, with black jeans on and combat boots, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He looks like a walking wet dream; I can barely breathe.

  “Um…” he stutters, trailing off. I swallow and step to the side, letting him in. He walks past and fills my entry way, his scent making another appearance. It’s like warm, sweet spice and an odd comfort, I can hardly understand it.

  “Just came to see if you were okay.” He finally says. His hands come out of his pockets and fall to the sides. I glance at the vascularity on them, the way his silver watch catches the light. I cross my arms over myself. Without a bra on, it’s too obvious that I’m not wearing one because I don’t have model type breasts. His eyes rove over me quickly, so fast I almost don’t notice it. But my heating body does.

  “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” I shrug.

  “You had quite a lot to drink.” His brow cocks and his lip twitches with a half-smile. I don’t think I have ever seen him smile fully; I don’t think anyone has honestly.

  “I can handle my liquor. Somewhat.” I mutter. He chuckles once, a deep rumble in his chest I feel in my core. I am only standing a few paces from him, but I feel like he is on top of me. Like he is right in my space along with his scent and piercing gaze.

  “Okay.” He drops his shoulder. I wish I hadn’t said that, maybe I should have said I’m not doing well and should be carried to bed. But the alcohol is out of my system now and I can barely find the words. I’m lucky I went to school with other socially awkward people. Some of the other science buffs didn’t know how to hold a conversation and it was easy to be the one moving things along. Now, not so much. I know he gets his fair share of women, always paying attention to him, wanting him. I’m nothing special in that regard.

  “Is that the only reason you came all the way over here?” I ask him. I remember in passing that Kit said he lived in the city, a good twenty-minute drive without traffic if you’re lucky.

  “Yeah, I um, was just thinking…” he clears his throat and rolls his shoulders back, taking a breath.

  “Thinking about me?” I laugh once, like he was te
lling a joke. His eyes narrow like he can’t believe I would question that. Clearly, I would.

  “Hoping you didn’t choke on your own vomit. It wouldn’t have gone over very well with Kit if I left you that way.” He says. My heart sinks at Kit being the only reason he would check on me. But of course, it makes sense. He is loyal to him and not me.

  “Well, I almost did but I’m fine. Trust me, I’m a doctor.” I laugh at my own joke and almost snort, but I stop myself. He gives me a funny look that makes me laugh even more, I shrug at my own awkwardness. More like hopelessness.

  “You’re very weird, Amy.” He murmurs. Everything he says is a dull murmur. It’s almost like he doesn’t like the sound of his own voice.

  “I take that as a compliment.” I clear my throat and give myself a mini pep talk. “Do you want um… something to drink?” I point the kitchen. His eyes flicker there, and he pauses like he is unsure.

  “Sure.” He finally says. I breathe and realize I was holding my breath.

  “Okay. Um, shoes please.” I point to his boots that look like they’ve seen war.

  He purses his lips but kicks them off, showing off black striped socks. They’re kind of cute and I stifle a giggle. I lead him to the kitchen, my feet clamming up on the bare floor. At least I did my nails recently, the pale white makes my feet look better.

  “I have water or Gatorade, sparkling water too.” I announce as I open the fridge.

  “Water is fine.” He gruffs. His voice is so deep it pangs in my ears, runs down my chest to my rapidly beating heart.

  I hand him the glass full of filtered water and he slides it between his fingers. I go to sit on a wooden bench, one chair away from him. He shrugs off his jacket and my eyes widen at thinking he is even staying that long.