Kinsmen MC (Complete Series)

by J. C. Allen

  Ah, shit, should’ve known.

  Well, as long as no one killed anyone, I thought with a smirk.

  Nix, one of my club guys, barged in the room with a flustered look. He was a smaller guy, good for the numbers and shit. He was the one that always tells me when we’re about to run out of money.

  And, unfortunately, he has been for a while now.

  “What the fuck?” I said, more of an exasperated statement than one filled with actual concern.

  I made my way out, Nix explained everything on the way, telling me Kev, our good prospect, and Al, the flirtatious, no-good prospect, had gotten into a fight. A fight wasn’t beyond a “relatively peaceful manner,” but if it spilled out into the rest of the bar…

  Wanting to avoid any further problems for the night, I dispatched Nix to get the biggest boys in the club to break up the bullshit. At the bar, Kev was laid out, and Al was still going at him. It looked like an ordinary fight before I notice a familiar head of hair by the bar, watching from a “safe” distance.

  I was pissed about the fight. But I was more pissed that Isabelle didn’t fucking leave like I told her to. Goddamnit… well, now you see what we’re about.

  “Hey!”

  I took my anger out on Al, grabbing him by the shoulder and landing one punch on his jaw that laid him out on the ground. I towered over him as he looked up at me, blood trickling down his nose.

  “Get the fuck out of my bar and never come back.”

  Al nodded profusely. I rolled my eyes.

  “Fucker can’t take no for an answer, huh?” I grumbled as my guys hauled Al off the ground and out of the bar.

  I then turned my attention to the person I shouldn’t have even needed to keep engaging—Isabelle.

  And not surprisingly, shook up didn’t even explain her state well. The way her shoulders rose up into her neck, her cheeks flushed… she looked the complete opposite of when we were talking earlier. She was chewing the hell out of her bottom lip, her chest rising and falling with her rapid breath. And in a few seconds, her fleeting eyes met mine.

  I was ready to cuss her out, tell her she was an idiot for not leaving, tell her that this was the true side of the MC world, and that if this was the world she wanted, then she was somehow too goddamn crazy to stay here.

  But then her eyes softened as I looked at her.

  No, Jaxson! Get your shit together, get her out of here, and don’t let her come back.

  “Let’s go.”

  I grabbed her by her slender wrist. She didn’t resist as I pulled her off into the distance and out of the bar. She knew by now that I really wasn’t kidding—this wasn’t some stupid flirtatious move to get her to like me despite my objections.

  I really didn’t want her back. If she couldn’t handle a closed-doors fight like that, there was going to be a hell lot more she couldn’t handle.

  We stepped into the bite of the night air. I released her and faced her. She was still trying to catch her breath, a slight wheeze that almost made me want to hold her instead of telling her to leave.

  Almost.

  “I told you to leave.”

  She flinched at my harsh tone. I wasn’t looking to make her whimper or cower, but I was looking to do whatever I needed to do to get her to get the hell away from here.

  “I—you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

  Goddamnit, really. Do we have to play strong woman right now? Did you just see what the fuck happened?

  Despite her straightforward words, her voice barely came out as more than a whisper. She tried to make herself sound serious, but it didn’t come out that way. Her arms came around herself, hugging herself from the cold.

  “I told you it was dangerous,” I said, not yelling, but definitely not sweet or polite. “Now look what happened. You were inches away from a fist fight.”

  “Nothing happened.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Yet you’re shaking like a wet cat on the beach.”

  She had no response. Which was just as well, because I wouldn’t have had any patience for it.

  “I told you this wasn’t the place for you. And if you couldn’t handle that, you can’t handle real club business. Don’t come around here anymore, for everyone’s sake.”

  “You can’t—”

  “Did you come here alone? Do you have a ride back home?”

  I couldn’t carry on this conversation any longer.

  If I did, I was going to expose that I was still enormously attracted to her. If I did, I was going to go back on what I said. If I did, I was going to make a decision of weakness.

  “I came with a friend.”

  “Good. Tell her to come outside.”

  She frowned, her brow turning down and the corner of her lips tightening. I could tell she was trying her hardest to hold a glare at me, but eventually, she got wise, perhaps realizing she wasn’t going to win that battle. She fumbled for her phone in her purse, sending a quick text to her friend. Seconds later, the door swung open.

  “Tonight could have been a lot worse. Just remember that the next time you want to come here.”

  4

  Isabelle

  I hatde how I cry out of frustration, because this should not have been making me sad.

  But it was. And I wished he hadn’t done that. Really, I wish I didn’t care or that I ever even met him.

  But I had, and there was no fucking getting around it, no matter how confusing or stupid it all may have seemed.

  “Who the hell was that?” Riley said.

  I forced myself to turn and look at her, crawling out the confusion that was in my head. I felt trapped, recalling the fight over and over, yet not being able to make sense of it. “Who the hell was that,” indeed.

  One minute, I was by the bar and staring at Jaxson after he so rudely told me to get out. The next minute, some dude was bragging about being “picked,” leading to a fight with someone who apparently wasn’t. They started throwing punches right in front of me. I was just frozen on the spot, having never seen anything like it before—and, yeah, I guess Jaxson had a point about me not being able to handle it.

  But jeez, he didn’t have to be so mean about it.

  “Let’s go,” I said, dismissing her question.

  “What about—”

  “Nothing. Can we just go, please?”

  Thankfully, Riley didn’t ask any more questions; she just gave me a sad, confused look before we headed to the car and left. I stared at the bar and all the bikes, drifting off into the distance, still oscillating between wanting to go back and wanting to burn it all down.

  I could still feel his hands on me, his breath in my earm and everything about him that made me crazy. His voice was so stern, and his eyes were matching the intensity of them. I had never heard a deeper, sexier, meaner voice in my life.

  But there he was, pining me down with cold brown eyes and a smolder I don’t think I will ever forget. And all for what—because he thought I couldn’t handle the club’s activity?

  I just keep imagining him saying I don’t belong there, telling me to leave, looking at me like he wanted me but then telling me to go. Fuck him for telling me what to do.

  And fuck me for proving him right.

  “What happened?” Riley said as she pulled up to the house. “Please tell me.”

  I wasn’t going to get out of this, I knew. I could deflect her for some period of time, but sooner or later, Riley was going to get the truth out of me. Feeling no choice but to speak it, I decided that now was better than a never-ending press of questions.

  “It was nothing. He got all… weird with me. He told me to leave. That I shouldn’t come around anymore.”

  “What the fuck,” Riley said. “What an asshole. I’m sorry I ever told you anything nice about him. Clearly, he’s a dick.”

  “I know,” I said with a yawn. “But it’s all good. I can go to sleep now, and neither of us have to ever worry about him again.”

  “Agreed,” R
iley said with a smile. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I changed and showered before I head to bed, thinking it would be a nice escape from the shitty night that I had.

  But all I wound up doing was drifting back to Jaxson… back to the way he held me…

  And, yes, back to dreaming about him again.

  Once again, I woke up in an unsurprising cold sweat. Maybe it was from, once again, my heated dream, or the furnace being on too hot last night.

  Sitting up in my bed, I tossed the heavy red comforter off and swung out of bed, standing up to stretch out.

  The memories of the club came rushing back, and as they did, I had to ask myself what the fuck I ever saw in thinking the place and Jaxson would be so magical. It was nothing more than some sexy, intimidating biker dude who thought he could tell me that I didn’t belong at the bar and that I should never come there again. Like he’s the fucking sheriff.

  I shook my head at the memory and falsely promised myself not to think of it again—a promise I knew I would break before it was all said and done.

  I certainly could keep the promise not to go back, though. I wasn’t going to let anyone talk to me in such a manner.

  I made it through one hot cup and was about to pour the second before Riley came waltzing in. She looked happy as ever in her jeans and a decent tee shirt—it was enough to make me envious that she could feel so upbeat.

  “Morning.”

  “Hey,” I grumbled, more of a grunt than an actual word.

  “Sheesh, we didn’t drink that much.”

  Yeah, but the hangover is all the same.

  “I know.”

  I sat at the high counter with my second cup of coffee. I needed at least two in preparation for the day.

  OK, really, it was in preparation for—

  “So are you ready to tell me what that guy wanted last night?”

  That question.

  “He was no one.”

  Maybe I was being a tad dismissive, but I didn’t care at this point. I just wanted the questions to stop so I could focus on grad school, the semester ahead, and the friends I’d actually have in my life.

  “Okay, Jaxson Kinsmen isn’t no one.”

  C’mon, Riley.

  “Oh, is that his name?” I said, even though I knew full well that was his name.

  “Isabelle, what happened?” Riley said, confused. “I thought I left you with a nice hot guy to take home. I left to have my fun and then I come back to a bar that’s been ransacked and Jaxson looming over you like a silent protector.”

  That’s actually quite accurate.

  “He’s no protector, he’s an asshole. And, wait, where the hell did you manage to hook up with someone?”

  I made a face at her, but she just giggled. She sure seemed a lot more relaxed and comfortable with this than I ever would be.

  “There are rooms in the back or something. It was just some guy I may or may not have lunch with today. He was hot though. They all are.”

  Maybe. But…

  “Yeah well, Jaxson was a prick.”

  “What did he do? Tell me in literally three minutes because I have to go.”

  My eyes widened, but feeling like I had no choice, I just spouted off everything, from how Jaxson had given me conflicting messages to how he had berated me after the bar fight to how he told me never to come back. I wanted to believe that Riley had some sympathy for my situation, but for the most part, I just sensed bemusement from her that I would pass up a chance to hook up with Jaxson.

  Well, I’m not a local here, so Jaxson doesn’t mean anything to me.

  No matter how handsome he is. No matter how much of a spell he has on me. No matter…

  Riley left for work and I finished my coffee. I tried to tell myself I was tidying up, but I was really just avoiding the rest of the day.

  Last night was supposed to clear my head and let me have one last bit of fun before the new semester started and all the stress associated with the MFA. Instead, all it did was stress me out and have me thinking of Jaxson. I could tell myself he really was just being protective, or maybe even liked me, and that was his way of showing it—but I could never be that vain.

  Halfway through my relaxing day on the couch, I realized I couldn’t avoid Monday any longer. I couldn’t avoid being a teacher and doing my own research. I had to get my shit together.

  I had to leave the house and stop wallowing in self-pity. It’s not what my mother would want to see me doing. I got my shit together—somewhat, I was still in faded jeans and an oversized gray sweater—and headed to the store.

  I found a good parking spot right by the door, headed inside, and nodded to the store associate, politely declining her offer for help. My sneakers squeaked across the linoleum as I found my way to the school supplies section. I crouched down to look at the notebooks when I heard the voices of other shoppes ominously die down.

  After that, heavy footsteps and a cloud of familiar hardness walked over to me, and I have no choice but to look up and follow it from the ground up.

  Oh, shit.

  Black combat boots and dark jeans that fit the thighs in the ahem, right places, stood before me. I then looked further up to see a sculpted, hardened face; full pink lips pursed in permanent irritation, and brown eyes that should otherwise be kind but are very, very mean. Only one man could have looked at me like he did and convey all the emotions he did.

  “Isabelle.”

  Jaxson.

  I literally gulped in surprise and a little bit of fear. I dropped the notebook and stood up. Admittedly, he smelled intoxicating, but the gaze he gave me prevented me from turning into some middle-school fool.

  “Are you here to tell me I don’t belong in grocery stores either, Jaxson?”

  I cleared my throat, telling myself he was just a man and that I shouldn’t be afraid to talk to him. But when a man acts with the audacity that he had and when a man speaks to me as he had at his bar…

  “No.”

  I thought I almost saw him smile until he furrowed his brow and surveyed his surroundings. He had been impossible to read before, and he was impossible to read now.

  “Are you in high school?” he said, barely able to contain his sarcastic laughter.

  I didn’t bother to hide my laughter. I wanted him to realize I wasn’t going to get bullied out of this small Minnesota town just because of his juvenile, bullying humor.

  “No. Grad school.”

  He grunted as other shoppers around us slowly made their way out, as if afraid to trigger a reaction of any sort from the man before me.

  “How old are you?” he said.

  His voice was so gruff, I almost wanted to ask him why he was so angry. It might have made sense at his bar, but here in a fucking public store like this?

  “That’s none of your business.”

  I let out an incredulous laugh to accompany his question.

  “Fair enough,” he said, clearing his throat and stuffing his hands in his jean pockets.

  “Is that what you came up to ask me?”

  “No,” he said gruffly. “I didn’t expect to see you. I came to get ointment. For my hand.”

  He pulled his left hand out of his pocket to show me. His knuckles were barely bruised, but the skin was peeling over his pinky a bit. I took his hand without thought, looking to survey it. It definitely needed work, but…

  The hell was I holding his hand for? I snorted as I dropped it.

  “Hmm. Looks rough,” I said as I turned and continued to the register, making sure to grad a real cashier so I’d have someone else to talk to.

  And then Jaxson said the words that ensured I wouldn’t be saying but the bare minimum to the cashier.

  “I wanted to apologize.”

  The words came out of him in a real struggle, as if he had rarely, if ever, spoken those words. I suppose I should have taken this as a grand sign of some kind, that the great Jaxson was apologizing to me… but to me, it just felt like something
overdue by about sixteen hours or so.

  “For what?” I said, testing him.

  “I was rude. I shouldn’t have been. Even though I was right.”

  I refused to look at him, rolling my eyes at him. He just couldn’t give me a real apology, could he? He just couldn’t say “I’m sorry” and leave it at that, could he? He hadn’t even actually said he was sorry, just that he wanted to be sorry—although that was probably being too harsh on him.

  Although, really, what was the point in giving him any slack?

  “What an apology.”

  “Well, it is one.”

  Barely. And only technically.

  “So… I should just accept it and move on?”

  “I mean it, Isabelle. No need to hold a grudge or whatever.”

  Not only is he an asshole, but he’s an arrogant asshole who won’t take responsibility for his part. Fuck him.

  I reached my car and wished I had diverted him or not gone to my car. At this point, though, I just wanted him to get the fuck away from me.

  “I’m not. Thank you, for your version of an apology. But it doesn’t really matter to me. I don’t know you, you don’t know me.”

  I turned around and faced him, mustering up every ounce of courage I have ever had. I wanted to end whatever this was once and for all—no matter how much looking at him stirred a certain sensation in me.

  “You said you don’t want me around, guess what? I’m not around. You’re coincidentally in the same place I am and I can’t help that. But you were very adamant about never speaking to me again, so what changed that? Tell me.”

  Jaxson stared down at me, barely missing a beat, seemingly unaffected by my harsh tone. I figured he didn’t even plan on answering me, and so I loaded my bag in the car and moved to get inside once it became obvious Jaxson wasn’t going to say anything. I just wanted to get the fuck away from him and never have to deal with him again.

  All I knew was that I have dreamed about him… and that was very weird. I was experiencing more confusion with him than with my last boyfriend. Fortunately, the sooner I got away, the sooner the confusion and the madness in my sleep could end.

  “I shouldn’t have said that to you before. I was just worried seeing you there at the club.”