Chapter Seven
Chance
The blonde behind the counter smiles as she passes me a bag of food. “Have a good day, Sir.”
“Thanks. You, too.” I take the bag and slip outside, eager to get back to Carly. I had intended to make her something for breakfast while she showered but all I found in her fridge was two bottles of wine and some funky smelling Chinese takeout so I had to improvise. Thank God, she lives downtown and the doorman was able to direct me to a great diner only a few doors down. I half expected her to refuse when I suggested eating breakfast together but maybe the fantastic sex last night and this morning made her a little more amenable. Or she’ll throw me out when I walk back in with the food – it’s a toss-up.
As I pass by the doorman, I wave and he nods before turning back to the newspaper and coffee on his desk. Looking around the lobby, I can’t quite figure it out. From what I know about Carly, this doesn’t really seem like her tastes and she got fucking pissed the first time I called her princess so it just doesn’t add up. But you could say the same about a lot of things when it comes to her. One more thing I’m looking forward to uncovering about her, I guess.
Instead of waiting for the elevator, I turn toward the stairs, too impatient to wait before getting back to Carly. It’s been thirty minutes since I left her bed, but my hands ache to touch her again and wrap my arms around her. It’s ridiculous how addicted I am to this girl. How the hell am I supposed to get through a whole day without seeing her if thirty minutes was so hard?
God, last night was, hands down, the single best night of my life and if I didn’t know before I sank into her for the first time, I’m sure now that this can never be just sex. What we did, the way we connected, was more than just physical and I’ve never felt anything like it. But I know convincing her to give us a shot will take a lot of work.
The hallway is quiet when I step out of the stairwell and I march toward her door, hoping she’s still as agreeable as when I left. Not that I don’t love her attitude but seeing a different side of her like I did last night and again this morning, is nice. More than nice. It satisfies this craving I have burning a hole in my stomach to get to know her. There’s so much more to her than meets the eye and the more I uncover, the more I want to learn.
Opening her front door, I release a breath when I see her pouring coffee by the sink. She glances over her shoulder, her gaze dropping down to the bag in my hand, and relief flashes across her face before she hides it.
“Oh, you’re still here.”
Chuckling softly, I step inside and close the door behind me. “Yep. Just had to go get food since you apparently survive on wine alone.”
“What is that smell?” she asks, sniffing the air as she turns to face me and lifts her coffee cup to her full lips.
“Biscuits and gravy.” I hold up the bag and her eyes widen.
“Wow,” she whispers, looking away from me as sadness creeps into her eyes. “I haven’t had it in forever.”
I walk over to the island and set the bag down before pulling the foam containers out and setting them down. “It’s one of my favorites.”
“Mine, too,” she admits and I meet her gaze, confused.
“If it’s one of your favorites, why haven’t you had it in a long time?”
She looks away, pursing her lips, something I’ve come to recognize as a sign she’s holding something back. I want to go to her but I’m afraid it will spook her.
“My dad used to make it for my sister and me every Sunday. After he died, we just couldn’t bring ourselves to eat it anymore.”
“Shit,” I say, staring down at the containers in front of me. “I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. It’s actually really nice.”
I’m getting a rare look into a vulnerable side of Carly and I’m eating it the fuck up. Knowing she grew up without a dad, too, brings a few things into focus for me. She understands a part of me most people can’t.
“How old were you when he died?” I ask, opening the containers and passing her one as she grabs a couple forks from the drawer. She sighs and I wonder if I pushed her too far.
“He died on my sixth birthday.”
Holy shit.
“I’m so sorry. What happened?”
She clears her throat, looking away from me to hide her face as she wipes away a stray tear.
“I think that’s enough about me today. Let’s dig into your past now.”
I laugh, hoping to lighten the mood and hold my arms out wide. “What do you want to know?”
Cool gray eyes study me for a moment before she smirks. “Explain the biker thing to me because from what I know about you, it doesn’t really fit.”
I nod. “Everything was different when I first joined up.”
“How so?”
Shaking my head, I remember how out of control my life was back then. “I patched in when I was nineteen and I was a real angry kid. I hated the whole damn world and blamed it for all my problems. The club back then was completely different, too. They were mixed up in all kinds of bad shit – drugs, guns, all of it. Honestly, I’m so damn lucky I made it to this point without dying or ending up in jail because back then, I didn’t care if I lived or died.”
“What changed?” she asks, understanding in her eyes and I wonder what other secrets she has buried.
“Blaze, our club president, got shot and decided to take the club in a different direction. We got out of all the illegal shit and started a security business.”
“What changed for you?”
I meet her eyes, wishing I was next to her so I could wrap my arms around her while we talk but I’m not sure how open she’d be to that.
“Jerry got me into boxing. Turns out it’s really hard to be mad at the world when you’re too exhausted to even move. That and the work the club does now really pulled me out of a dark place.”
She cuts into her biscuits, closing her eyes and savoring the taste as she takes a bite. When she opens her eyes again, she flashes me a shy smile.
“What does the club do now?”
“We help people escape from bad or dangerous situations.”
Tilting her head to the side, she studies me. “Like women in abusive relationships?”
“Most of the time, yeah, but it could be anyone who needs our help.”
“And how do you find these people?”
I smirk. “Is this an official interview?”
She blushes and shakes her head. “Sorry, no. I’m just curious.”
“It okay,” I assure her. “Most of the time, they find us but sometimes, we’re contacted by family members or friends and then we reach out to the person in trouble.”
“What y’all do is amazing.”
“Well, thank you but it feels a little selfish sometimes.”
She scowls, studying me as she takes another bite of her breakfast. “Why?”
“We each have our own personal reasons for doing it and I think we need it as much as the people we help do.”
“I don’t think that makes it selfish,” she says, shaking her head. “Every single person has motivations for why they do anything. Why do you do it?”
Sighing, memories from my childhood come flooding back and I shake my head. “Before my mom met Jerry, she dated a long string of losers who would rather talk with their fists and all I could do was watch it happen. I wasn’t big enough to protect her and I hated it. After she met Jerry, things were really good for a while and I finally had the family I had wanted my entire life but it’s like she was too jaded or something by the other guys because she just couldn’t accept Jerry’s love for her and she kicked him out. After that, she started drowning her sorrows at the bottom of a bottle and she was never able to crawl out again.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, her voice cracking and I glance up, surprised by the tears shining in her eyes. As if on cue, she glances away from me and squares her shoulders. “I’m going to be late for work.”
Before I can say anything else, she turns and walks back into the bedroom, closing herself off from me once more.
* * * *
Me:
You free tonight?
I sigh, staring down at the text I sent her this morning that’s still unanswered before slipping my phone in my pocket and running my hand through my hair. Two days ago, she came alive in my hands and opened herself up to me in a way I never expected but maybe I pushed her too hard, too fast because now, I can’t get her to answer a single phone call or text. I’m slowly losing my mind and I’m tempted to just show up on her doorstep again and force her hand but I’m not that crazy…yet. Or maybe I am. I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough of her and being deprived of her, now that I’ve had her underneath me, is torture.
The thing is, Storm was partially right when he said I don’t commit but it’s not because I don’t want to. I guess you could call me a serial monogamist because for as long as I can remember, I’ve been looking for one thing. I jump into relationships quickly, hoping I’ll finally find what I’m looking for and when I don’t, it’s just as easy to end it. But nothing about Carly Mills is easy and I’m completely addicted. She’s different than any other girl I’ve ever met. All the woman has to do is look my way and I’ll do whatever she wants. If I’ve gotta beg, I’ll gladly drop down on my knees and plead for just another taste of her.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Jerry says and I glance up at him as he works in the kitchen. With a shrug, I stand up and grab the plates to set the table. One thing Jerry has always insisted on, since the moment he came into my life, was a weekly family dinner. When I was younger, I would roll my eyes and pretend to hate it, but the truth was, it was what I’d always wanted. “Something on your mind?”
“Nah. Not really.”
He chuckles, leaning back against the counter while the spaghetti sauce simmers on the stove. “Come on, Kid. You’ve never been that good of a liar.”
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout, Jer,” I tell him and he nods with a smirk on his face as he turns back to the sauce. He doesn’t buy it and I know it but I’m not sure I want to talk about it. Not that it really matters to Jerry. He’ll probably manage to pry it out of me before I leave tonight. It’s kind of annoying but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. After everything I’ve been through, I know how lucky I am to have him in my life.
Jerry met my mom when I was twelve years old and I’m pretty sure the dude fell head over heels as soon as he looked at her. He was so different than all the other guys she had been with and he accepted me as his son so easily when he didn’t need to. I could have just been his girlfriend’s kid but that isn’t Jerry’s style. He showed up to the house with a baseball and a pack of cinnamon gum and because of him, I finally had a family. At the time, he owned a restaurant in town and he provided us with a stable life – something else I’d never had before. Plus, he cherished my mom, treated her like a queen but it’s like no one ever thought to tell her most men don’t talk with their fists and she started questioning his motives. Everything he did made her suspicious.
Jerry doubled down and just tried to love her through it until she believed his feelings for her were true, but she never gave him the chance. One night just after my fourteenth birthday, I came home and she was throwing all his stuff out on the front lawn. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes as he packed his things that night, like his soul had just been shattered. Mom was never the same again either. She never went out on another date and she started finding her comfort in the bottom of a bottle. Just before I turned seventeen, she got drunk in the bath and drowned. Luckily for me, Jerry had been keeping tabs on us and petitioned the court to become my guardian the moment he learned about Mom’s death. As far as I know, he’s never dated again either. Even with all her faults, my mom was the only one for him.
“Food’s on,” Jerry says, snapping me out of my thoughts as he sets the pot of spaghetti down on the table and hands me a beer.
“Thanks.”
He nods, gesturing to my plate as he sits down. “Dig in.”
We’re quiet as we each dish food onto our plates and start eating.
“All right,” he says after a few moments. “Spill.”
“Spill what?”
He shoots me a look and I sigh as I push the pasta around on my plate. How can he still make me feel like a damn kid sometimes? “I met someone.”
“Ah, I see and this is bad because?”
“It’s not bad,” I reply, shaking my head. “Just complicated.”
He nods, indicating for me to continue.
“Storm’s pissed at me. He’s dating her friend and he thinks it’ll screw up what they have if I mess things up with this girl.”
“Storm will get over it. Boy’s always acted first and asked questions later.”
I nod. “Yeah, but what if he’s right? I haven’t ever been able to commit to anyone.”
“What about Trixie?”
My jaw clenches and I shake my head. “Trixie was a mistake. And the exact reason this isn’t exactly a good time to be starting something with someone else.”
He watches me quietly for a moment. “Do you regret meeting her?”
“No.” I could never regret anything that happens with Carly.
“Well, there’s your answer right there. Look, before I met your mom, I’d never had a serious relationship, but everything changed for me when she walked into my life. Your past doesn’t define your future, Chance.”
I nod, mulling over his words. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Now, I just have to convince her. She’s a little…difficult.”
“Son,” he says, laughing, “The best things in life always are. Is this girl special?”
“I think she is.”
He nods, smiling warmly at me. “Then you do what it takes to make her yours and never give up. One of my biggest regrets is letting your mom walk away. Don’t end up like me.”
I grab my beer, taking a pull as I watch him – hating the sadness in his eyes. “You ever thought about giving dating another shot, Jerry?”
“No. Your mom… she was the one for me.”
“Sorry,” I mutter, feeling guilty for the look in his eyes right now. He shakes his head.
“Don’t be. Those two years I spent with her were the best of my life and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Just don’t let your girl get away.”
I smirk, feeling more confident. “I don’t intend to.”
* * * *
“Shut up, y’all!” Blaze yells out from the head of the table and a hush falls over the room as everyone turns to look at him. “Let’s run through what we’ve got going on this week.”
I’m reminded of the story I told Carly a few days ago about how I joined the club and even though it started out rough, I know this is the right place for me. I hate to think what I’d be doing with my life without these guys and the work we do satisfies an urge in me to right some of the wrongs I endured as a child. I’ve learned so much about the way my mom thought and why she reacted the way she did to certain things. Knowing all that helped me let go of some of my anger toward her and I just wish she had lived long enough for me to help her.
“Who’s up?” Blaze asks and Storm clears his throat as every head in the room swivels in his direction.
“With me focused on keeping Ali safe, there’s going to be extra work for all of you. I just want to say sorry in advance.”
Kodiak claps him on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, brother. We’ve got your back.”
“Thanks,” he says, nodding at him. Blaze nods in agreement and glances down at the paper in front of him.
“Is this list up to date, Streak?” Blaze asks and Streak glances up from his laptop.
“Yep. You’re good to go.”
“All right. We’ve got one protection detail and one transfer this week and from the intel we’ve received, these are both going to be high risk, so I want, at least, two of you on each job. We’ll call in others to work the PI stuff and the shop if we have to.”
When Blaze pulled the club out of drugs and guns, he needed a way to make some money, so he started up the PI business and the motorcycle shop but I don’t think he was expecting them to explode like they did. Sometimes we were even turning away business and Blaze had to hire outside help, so we could still focus on the work we do off the books.
“The protection detail is for a woman named Amber and Rodriguez called us in on this one.”
That little detail grabs my attention as well as every other guy in the room. Detective Rodriguez has been working with us for a few years but it’s usually us going to him to make sure that we stay above the legal line. If he’s coming to us with something, it must be important.
“Why doesn’t he just put officers on her?” Smith asks.
“Amber was attacked and almost killed three nights ago and Rodriguez suspects that information is being leaked out of the department. We need to keep her safe until he can get her into a witness protection type situation.”
“We taking her to Emma’s house?” Fuzz asks and Blaze shakes his head.
“No, until we know why she was attacked and by whom, I don’t want to risk drawing a criminal to my family.”
I can’t help but smile. It’s so weird to see Blaze as a family man now when he’s been alone for as long as I can remember. He and his son, Nix, were estranged for a long time but when Nix came to us for help protecting his girlfriend, Emma, a year ago, it brought them all together. Truthfully, we all became more of a family when Emma came into the picture.
“Moose, you still friends with the guy who runs the motel?”
“Yeah, Boss,” Moose replies, nodding his head.
“Call him up. See if we can keep her there off the books. Tell him we’ll pay double. Now, the other transfer is going to be tricky because we only have a limited window and we have to grab Amy, the wife, and pick her two kids up from school before the husband finds out.”
“How is that tricky?” Fuzz asks, drawing on a cigarette.
“The husband doesn’t work regular hours and there is no telling when he’ll come home. If he comes home and his wife isn’t there, the first place he’ll go is the school, so you better hope you get there first.”
“Can’t we just pick the kids up at the same time that we’re picking up the mom?” Smith asks.
“Nah, the school will only release the kids to their mom or dad. Anyone else tries to pick them up and the first thing they’ll do is call the husband.”
“We gonna have someone tailing him?” I ask, already knowing that the answer is likely no. With us spread so thin, we may not have the manpower for it.
“I don’t think we can swing it. Just be careful and move fast.”
I nod. “Got it. Where are we taking her?”
Blaze glances down at his paper again. “Says here she’s got a sister in Tennessee that’ll be coming down the day after to pick them up. We’ll check them into one of the nicer hotels downtown under one of our names and they should be safe.”
“Sounds good, Boss,” Smith calls out and several of the guys nod in agreement.
“Anything else?” Blaze asks, looking around the room and after no one says anything, he nods. “See y’all later then.”
He stands and leaves the room, the rest of us trickling out after him and I grab a stool at the bar and order a beer.
“Chance,” someone says from my right and I peek over, trying to keep the smile off my face. Knew he’d come around eventually.
“Storm.”
He rubs the back of his neck and glances down. “Listen, about the other day…”
“It’s forgotten.”
He looks up and nods before slapping me on the back. “Thanks, dude.”
Laughing, I slide my unopened beer across the bar to him as I chuckle. “Have a beer with me.”
He slides onto the stool next to me and I look around the room at everyone laughing and talking.
“About Carly. If you want to date her, I’m not going to stop you. You both are adults; I’m sure you can handle it,” Storm says and I sigh.
“Thanks, man, but even without your approval, there was no way I was gonna walk away.”