Chapter Eighteen
…
Star
Remy was sitting on the floor on the far side of our one room apartment smoking when I came home. I hadn’t dwelled on Molly or what I’d done at all since leaving the restaurant. Actually, I was in a great mood. I felt lighter than I had in a long, long time.
Remy, on the other hand, appeared to be the opposite.
I put my bag down cautiously, trying to assess the situation. He’d occasionally get lost in thought as he tried to work something out. This time, though, he seemed more focused in his distant concentration than I have seen him in a long time.
It had me worried.
“Everything all right?” I tested the waters.
No answer.
“Remy?” I asked again.
He ignored me and took a pull from his cigarette. The cherry tip danced in his eyes, and smoke streamed from his nose. Still nothing, but that fiery gaze as it bore directly through the opposite wall. I half-expected the wallpaper to start smoldering any second.
“Rem—”
His searing gaze snapped at me.
I immediately felt uncomfortably warmer. I swallowed and continued, “Are you okay? Did something happen?”
At some point while speaking, he went from staring at me to staring through me. I felt translucent.
“Goddamnit! Talk to me!” Burn me, scream at me, anything to let me know you’re still in there! I could deal with damn near anything at this point but not a rift between us. I needed him to be able to talk to me because I needed to be able to talk to him.
All we had in this life was each other.
“I can’t do it.” His voice was a guttural whisper.
“What? Can’t do what?” I had no idea what he was talking about.
Remy shot up and whipped the ashtray at the far wall, shattering it then kicked the nightstand and lamp across the room. The lamp was still plugged in and smashed with an electric flare and fizzle.
I recoiled, but only at the sound. Remy still frightened me, but I didn’t think he’d ever hurt me on purpose.
“All of it!” he screamed. “This playing house bullshit. I’m not cut out for the nine to five grind. ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘No, sir.’ All these toilsome, fucking, parasitic jobs are eating me inch by inch! I’ve never had more homicidal rage than working fucking retail! How the fuck do people do this and not kill everyone?”
He saw that his outburst had startled me and walked outside, slamming the door behind him.
I was hesitant to follow him. What happened today?
My heart was beating as fast as it had when we walked into the Lobos clubhouse, and then I was dressed as a stripper. Remy was a frightening man when he wanted to be. Just because a tiger was docile at times didn’t make the animal less of a fucking tiger.
After a few deep breaths to steady myself, I started thinking about what he said. I thought back on all the jobs I had and all the shit I had to put up with over the years. Between managers and customers, I had been trained to be an obedient little worker bee who made just enough to continue working.
It was a form of economic slavery.
I guess that’s why I was going to college to escape the cycle. Then I thought about all my insane school loans and the unemployment rate. I understood Remy’s frustration. The normal world sucked. I wasn’t timid enough for it any longer. I wasn’t obedient enough to just fall in line anymore.
I went outside to find him sitting in the station wagon the priest gave us. I opened the passenger door and sat next to him. I waited until he was ready to speak.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he finally muttered.
“What happened?”
“I lost my job today.”
My creeping smile couldn’t stem the laugh that escaped me.
Remy was taken aback and eyed me suspiciously. Of all my possible responses, that wasn’t one that he’d expected.
“I’m sorry.” I finally got myself under control. “You, too? We’re one hell of a pair, huh?”
“You got fired today?” Remy’s demeanor lightened.
I told him about all the events of the last two weeks with Molly that culminated in me pulling a knife on her in the parking lot and threatening her.
“You told her you were going to tear her heart out through her pussy?” Remy cracked a smile and put a hand on my knee.
“Something like that, yeah.” I covered my face with my hands in embarrassment.
Remy pulled my hands away and kissed me.
His face was coarse, but I didn’t mind the sting from his beard. Those sweet, warm lips were all I cared about.
Regardless of the day I had, I could always lose myself in them.
“You’re too good for that place anyways,” he said when we eventually came up for air.
“I take it you had a shitty day, too, huh?” I asked.
Remy told me about the robbery and how he thought it was a Lobos hang around initiation. He told me what he’d done to the robber and what his boss had said to him.
While he was talking, I lit a small joint I had bought off one of the dishwashers. It wasn’t particularly good weed, but it was better than nothing.
“What bothers me the most is just how willing the Lobos were to pull this shit in their own backyard,” Remy spoke, reaching over and snagging the joint from me. After he took a few hits, he gave it back and picked up where he left off, “No one talks to the cops here because they know the Lobos will come knocking if they do, and there isn’t shit the cops can do about it. I can only imagine what they’d do in territories that the Veins had been pushed out of.” Remy shook his head, and I could tell he was thinking about Leslie.
“There’s something else I need to tell you.” It was no longer a difficult decision to make. Remy deserved the full truth no matter what path it would lead us down. “Nachomama’s is a money laundering front for the Lobos. The owner is related to one of the Lobos cabinet members, Spyder.”
Remy didn’t look all that surprised. We were in Lobos country, after all.
“I found out today,” I continued, pulling out a pair of tweezers and pinching the end of the joint so I wouldn’t burn my fingers. “I overheard a conversation between the owner and Spyder. They were talking about expanding Nachomama’s due to a lot more money coming in soon. Spyder said there was something big coming up next week that would let them know for sure when and if it was going to happen. They’re planning on putting a Nachomama’s restaurant in Leslie—”
“They’re going after something big enough to cripple the club.” Remy’s face went stiff.
“What is it? What could they be talking about?” I asked, coughing as the last of the weed was spent.
“I don’t know. I’ll have to at least warn them.”
“Are you going to call T— your brother?” I couldn’t say his name without my stomach turning at what he tried to do to me. Thinking about him made my skin crawl.
“No. He’s already buried both his brothers. I should stay buried at least for now.” Remy’s face pulled hard to the side. I could feel the burning sorrow in his heart. “Tee. I’ll call him instead. Give him the heads up.”
Remy desperately wanted to reconnect with his brother and his biker family. He was torn between wanting to help them and wanting to honor his vow to keep us safe and start a life together. It killed me to see that turmoil in him. I didn’t want to be the burden he was sworn to carry because eventually, he would resent me for it.
If I let things continue on like this with him knowing he could’ve done more to help but turning his back on them because of me, it would poison everything we ever tried to build together. If I cared about him above all else, then I would let him be the man he needed to be. I had to believe in Remy and give him the support he needed to spread his blackened wings and do whatever was necessary
“Remy…” I took his hands in mine. “I want you to know this. No matter what it is or what the consequences are, whatever you decide needs to happen next, I’m with you till the end of the road.”
“Thank you.” Remy’s brow furrowed upward. Hard-earned gratitude was heavy in his beautiful, dark eyes. He wasn’t one for spoken, soft pleasantries, preferring instead to show me how much he cared with subtle actions and meaningful gestures. So whenever I heard it out loud, it really mattered.
It made my heart flutter.
Remy started the car and drove us to our door. “Grab the bag and lock up.”
“Where are we headed?” I asked, stepping out of the car.
“To find a payphone if they still exist.”
“And the bag?” We didn’t have that much money left in there, so it was mostly just the guns. And for this kind of a shitty area, we didn’t have any problem with people trying to break in.
“You’ll see.” Remy smiled. It was a smile thick with more fun than trouble... well, maybe a little trouble.
After a few hours of searching and asking around, we’d given up on the phone booth hunt. We had pay-by-the-minute burner phones, but he didn’t want to use them for fear of having our location traced. Remy had decided we needed the remainder of the light for whatever he had planned so we picked up a case of soda and drove deep into the desert. When we stopped in the middle of nowhere, he finally told me what was going on.
“Pick out a gun you feel comfortable with. You’re going to learn how to use it.” Remy opened the bag. He started holding them up and explaining them to me – what each was called, the various parts, how to load them and unload them with extra care given to show me how to turn the safety on and off.
Fucker.
“Is this because of that whole safety thing?” I asked him. The incident made me a little wet just thinking about it. God, it was hot. CRAZY, dangerous and stupid, but hot.
“No.” Remy stripped down a Beretta nine millimeter, breaking it into five parts, then reassembling it in seconds. Afterwards, he looked up at me through a small gap he made between his extended thumb and index finger, a gesture that meant “a little” and mouthed the word, “maybe.”
I shoved him.
“You’re pretty when you pout,” he said mockingly.
I slid the magazine into the Beretta with a click and pointed it at him.
“See, you’re already learning.” He put his hands up like I had told him to freeze. Then I thumbed off the safety. “We’re off to a great start.”
His hands and legs were a flash of motion as he stepped out of the path of the gun and stripped it from my hands.
“Hey!” I protested.
“Now you just need to learn how to hold on to it.” He winked at me, thumbing the safety back on, and tossing the gun to me. “C’mon.”
He’d set up cans of soda all along an eroding stone wall. I lined up the shot as best I could and pulled the trigger. Miss. I winced from the noise. He motioned for me to continue. I stepped forward and tried again. As I pulled the trigger, my eyes narrowed like I was expecting a blow.
Miss! I dug my feet into the sad and pulled the trigger again.
Another miss.
Growling in frustration, I emptied the rest of the magazine toward one can of soda, and I swore the last shot only nicked it, but the damn thing didn’t have the decency to fall over! I was terrible at this.
“This is impossible!” I’d decided, handing the gun back to Remy.
Without a word, he reloaded it and fired off six quick shots, each hitting their marks and clearing the fence of soda cans.
“Show off.” I huffed.
“Here.” He loaded the gun and put it in my hand. “Hold it like this. Now—” Remy swung around, wrapping his body over mine from behind. I felt every part of him press into me. “Turn your head to the right a little. Just... like that. Look down the barrel. You want to line up the front and rear sights. Should look like a capital E laying on its back. You see it?”
“Yeah.” I was trying my hardest to concentrate, but Remy was so close that I found myself just taking him in all over. My mind drifted to each part of him that touched me, the vibration in his voice as he explained the basics, the heat of his breath, his scent—
*Blam!*
“Fuck!” I startled from the noise.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Shit! Yeah, sorry. It just kinda went off. I’m sorry.” I was blushing, but I don’t think he saw, or at least I hoped not. Focus, Star!
“Don’t jerk the trigger. Squeeze it. Line up your shot and fire at the bottom of your exhale.”
His voice was warm-honey calm. So soothing and smooth, I could drink it.
I followed his directions, relaxed, and fired. A can of soda exploded, the carbonated liquid spiraled it off the fence. I’d done it!
“Good. Now the rest. Each time you hit, move back a step.” Remy released me to fire by myself. He walked behind me to lean against the car and watched.
I relaxed, taking my time and drilling his instructions into my mind. It was slow going, but each shot that spiraled a can moved me a little closer to Remy. Several rounds of reloads, and additional targets later, I started feeling much more comfortable with the gun. I turned the death-dealing piece of metal and plastic over in my hands, wondering how I could’ve ever been so timid.
I would never close my eyes when I fired again.
By my final set of targets, I was boiling. The late summer sun had been beating down on us mercilessly, wavy clear lines of heat radiated off the red dirt ocean that surrounded us. I had to stop to remove the flannel button down I had on for fear that I might combust. I finished the clip and turned to Remy.
Remy was in process of peeling off his shirt. Thin beads of sweat rolled down through his matted chest hair and between his glistening abs and were absorbed into the band of his boxers. He used his shirt to wipe the dust and sweat from his face. The light caught the bullet scars on his chest and stomach from Bones, turning them a lighter shade of olive tan than the rest of him.
The longer I spent with him, the more certain I was that only Remy could’ve survived something like that. No one else would’ve ever been tough enough.
I’d never gotten the chance to see so much of his skin outside in the sun. Pale motel lights didn’t do his physique any justice. He was all scars and ink over a battlefield of hard, ripped muscles. While obscured a little by his chest hair, the words “Steel Veins” were tattooed like a top rocker on his chest. Running up his arms were scratches, burns and tattooed grey lines made out to look like his actual veins were made of metal.
Remy was the personification of everything my mother warned me about when bikers thundered by.
“Looks like you’re a natural, after all,” he said impressed.
“No help to you. You’re the worst teacher ever. So distracting.” I stuffed the gun into the back of my jeans and walked over to him.
When I got close enough, he pulled me into him and turned me around so that we were both facing the destroyed targets. “Yeah? And what do you call that?” he whispered, biting the top of my ear.
“That. Mmm... Was all me. I am a natural.” I smiled mischievously, feeling Remy’s tongue tickle as it set fire to all the ridges in my ear. “You just stood around looking pretty.”
The gun slid out of my pants and landed with a metallic thud on the hood of the car before sliding off to crash against the packed ground. His hands glided over my stomach and up my tank top, then down to pop the button on my jeans. He wasted no time in parting the metal teeth of my zipper and dropping both my jeans and panties to mid-thigh. It was all so rough and quick as he moved me to wherever he saw fit.
God, his hands were strong.
Bitter wind kicked up and dusted across my exposed flesh. I yearned for his touch, but he left me there, waiting. His hardening cock, pressed sideways along the top of my ass, it fought for freedom against the denim prison. My pussy quivered in the sunlight.
Touch me! I wanted to scream out.
We could fuck for days like our lives depended on it, and still I would beg him for more.
Three strong fingers peeled back my bottom lip and dragged past my teeth. I all but swallowed them until they were cruelly ripped away to push against my clit. My pussy strained against the weight of his fingers as they massaged me up and down. The pressure was devilish. It built upon itself harder and faster, his fingers pulsed between my lower lips and over my clit.
Tighter still, my back arched, my eyes closed. It felt like all the sensation was drained from my limbs to hum on that one golden spot between my legs. I vibrated relentlessly. My hips bucked. My inhales were sharp. My exhales ragged.
He wouldn’t stop until I came.
A shiver flashed through from me. Everything was electric. I grabbed his probing hand and together we got me off. I let out a long, choppy moan. Any soreness and stiffness I had from firing the gun dissolved instantly.
He wasn’t done with me. Not by a long shot. Remy spun me around and jerked me into him, the bulge in his pants stabbing into me. The pressure whet my appetite. I was famished. Ravenous. Carnal impulses took me over to the point I couldn’t think straight.
Then he switched gears completely and fucked me all up.
He kissed me.
The sweetness of it took me completely by surprise. It was a fairytale kiss, one that could’ve revived a sleeping princess. With a man like Remy, it was easy to forget just how tender and light he could be. Jesus, he made me feel like I was floating sometimes.
His lips, closed at first, were cracked but moist. Inviting. They wandered across mine, parting slightly more with each supple impact. A hundred little explosions of warmth reverberated through me. And with a parting smack of our lips, that tender moment was over.
He pulled away and looked at me. There were flecks of deep red hidden in those dark eyes that I’d never noticed before. It was stunning.
Those beautiful dark eyes narrowed. Everything behind those long lashes burned away. Heavy, bloody lust was all that remained. Remy Daniels was a series of heights and depths. Riding high of one of his peaks, I swallowed hard, embracing the plunge. I was turned back around, gently at first. I knew that wouldn’t last long. In a heartbeat, I found myself bent over the hood of the car.
More like thrown onto it, really.
The car had been off long enough for the engine to cool so it wasn’t scorching, but it was still damn hot from baking in the desert sun. My tits pressed into the top of the sun-soaked metal, the bra took most of the heat, but my hands and hips weren’t spared.
“Ow,” I hissed, ripping my hands away from the metal.
Remy stopped and laid his shirt down for me to lie on. I retested the hood with the fabric barrier, and my skin quickly acclimated to the heat. With a smile, I reached for him. I didn’t want him to stop.
He kindly obliged, swatting my hand away. In one savage motion, my pants and panties were yanked down by my feet. A bead of sweat sailed down the back of my knees. I felt his tongue catch it which nearly made me swoon. He traced its path back up my thigh in a long line to my bent-over ass. My knees buckled, but strong arms hoisted me back up. I was his to do with as he pleased. As his tongue hit the meaty part of my ass, it disappeared and was immediately replaced with dragging teeth. He bit one cheek while squeezing and spreading apart the other. Sharp ridges of pain amplified in waves as his jaw quivered with refrain. At any moment, I feared he’d lose himself and draw blood. Remy’s capacity for sex and violence was incalculable. Every beating moment near him deepened my depths of depravity, freeing me from my conservative New Hampshire roots.
Freeing me from everything.
Everything but him.
I felt his cock spring to life after the remainder of his clothes tumbled down the back of my legs. I couldn’t keep my aching hips from rocking toward him. He rubbed his cock between my thighs, over my soaked lips, toying with me.
Then I felt him – all of him.
Every glorious, thick, throbbing inch of him was pushed into me. It was always so much deeper from behind. It felt like his cock went on forever, stretching me apart. Soon, even that wasn’t enough for him.
He needed more.
I was jerked away from the car just enough for Remy to slide a hand over my sensitive, wet pussy. With two fingers, he split my lower lips even further so he could rub circles over my clit. Lightning sparked through me. Between that and his quickening thrusts, I came again. All my oxygen escaped me with a rush. The aftershocks rattled me. I screamed out, demanding more.
I wanted all of it.
The manly mixed scent of his sweat and dirt was intoxicating. It lingered in my nose and on my licked lips. His iron grip wore white marks into my hips. The blazing metal hood would abruptly catch a virgin patch of my tender flesh, momentarily lighting it on fire. His unyielding skin-covered piston pumped into me, through me.
Pain, ecstasy, discomfort, joy – it was all so shattering.
I almost cried when he pulled out. His cum blasted the sidewall and wheel well of the borrowed church station wagon. I had to grab the metal lip between the windshield and hood to keep from limply sliding off the car completely. Remy fell on top of me, his forearms landing heavily on the hot sheet metal with an audible sizzle. It burned him, but he didn’t care.
This was as close to heaven as we were ever going to get.
It was easily several full minutes before either of us had the strength to move after we were done. Remy opened the rear passenger door, and we both tumbled into the backseat. We hadn’t bothered dressing so we hit the hot leather interior as one big, filthy, mess of happy, wet flesh.
“Oh, God, we’re disgusting,” I groaned, peeling parts of myself off of him to adjust into a better position. “I kinda feel really terrible about that considering where we were doing it.”
“Yeah, it’s best you don’t think about all the Sunday school kids that got carted around in this thing every week,” Remy replied casually.
“You’re horrible!”
We both laughed.
“Seriously though, remind me to clean this before we return it to Father Jameson.” Even Remy felt a little guilty about it.
We both looked out the open door and took in the beautiful, if empty, landscape. We were completely alone out here. It was perfect.
After a little while, some questions that I’d tried burying seeped out of my mind. I didn’t know if we’d have another safe moment like this, so despite probably killing the mood, I mustered the courage to finally ask him, “Who was Maria?” The question sounded meeker than I would’ve wanted, but at least I finally got the words out.
“My late wife,” Remy answered after a long pause.
I almost thought I woke him up.
Once he started talking, I knew it was because he needed some time to figure out how to answer such a big question.
“What happened?” I was determined to get the full story out of him, however painful it might be. I felt like I needed to know about this woman if she mattered so much to Remy.
“Wrong place, wrong time. Wrong choice of husband…” Remy’s words trailed off as he was drowned in memory. There was another long pause. I was just about to prod him about it when he continued on his own, “I was arguing a lot with Top back then about how some of the new prospects were getting their patches. Unvouched-for guys brought in directly by Deadeye without a vote. Even with Deadeye’s bullshit reasons, up until then, that was a huge no-no for us. Top didn’t care all that much because it wasn’t happening in our chapter. Everyone else was willing to let it slide because it was coming from the top down, but I knew Deadeye was going soft. It started with his kid, Rio, who, despite his zealotry, just wasn’t club material. The kid was just a fucking monster. Well, you know that. A few of Rio’s friends got in that way too, then some others.
“Like Lorenzo?” I asked.
“No that scumbag was always floating around the periphery.” Remy amended his previous statement. “I guess the club really started going to shit way back when Teach, the other Veins founder, quit the club. Fast forward to today and before anyone realized, the scum in the Steel Veins’ mother chapter had begun steering us in a different direction. We didn’t start off as One-Percenters, but that’s where the MC was headed.”
“What’s that mean? One-Percenter? Is that more of an outlaw club thing?” There was still so much terminology I needed to learn.
“Kinda. Technically, it just means they’re not registered with the AMA or CMA, the American or Canadian Motorcycling Associations. If you wear the diamond One Percent patch, you just hold yourself to a tougher standard, usually racist and sexist. They’re harder guys that do nastier shit. Stuff I never originally signed up for.”
“I take it Maria wasn’t all that thrilled about the dark new direction of the club, either?” I asked.
“She was not.” Remy’s expression darkened. “We were hosting a couple of new members from Deadeye’s chapter who were on their way back to Norman after a charity ride. Charity rides were the easiest ways to move drugs or guns across state lines. Apparently, they were dealing for some quick cash in the wrong turf. Stupid.” Remy softly growled angrily to himself. His knuckles clenched. “They should’ve known better. Thinking it was our chapter that was fucking with their turf, the Lobos tailed them to Leslie. That night, they did a drive-by on me and a few other Veins in front of a downtown bar. I was there, picking Maria up from work, when it happened... She was caught in the crossfire. Dead before she hit the ground.”
“Holy shit, that’s awful! I’m so sorry.” I knew it couldn’t have ended well, but I didn’t realize Remy saw it all happen.
“Ancient history.” Remy swallowed hard, pushing the memories away with far too much practical ease.
How many times had he relived that horrible experience?
“Being in the Lobos clubhouse must’ve been really hard for you.” I twisted to face him and wrapped my arms around him.
“No. It was a Veins bullet that killed her.” Remy struggled to keep the venom from his tone.
This was an old hurt. One, I’m sure he wished stayed buried.
“What?” I was genuinely surprised. “How?”
“She worked across the street at a bakery.” Remy’s voice grew more distant. “Made the best damn carrot cake around.”
I frowned, remembering the piece of carrot cake I’d picked up for him in Santa Fe. “So it was an accident?” I asked.
“Didn’t make her any less dead. I was furious. The club had to hold me down to stop me from killing Deadeye’s guys right then and there. They were right to stop me. It would’ve kicked off a chapter war that would’ve ripped the Veins apart. I didn’t care at the time. I just wanted blood. But feeling betrayed by my club, I had to disappear for a few months and get my head straight. When I came back, everything seemed tainted, even my chapter. The club was going in a different direction, but it was happening so slowly that no one else realized it. Extortion runs? We never did that shit before. What happened to your aunt and uncle never would’ve happened before I left. It was a different club back then.” Remy looked at me apologetically. He felt bad about what happened to them for my sake.
“That wasn’t your fault, Remy.” I squeezed him tighter. He carried so much…
“I’m just as guilty as everyone else. Maybe even more so. I saw it all more clearly than anyone, but I didn’t do shit about it. I let what happened to Maria twist me all up. I didn’t care about anything anymore.
“Why’d you come back at all?” I asked.
“Because I couldn’t cut it out there alone.” Remy snorted, disgusted with himself. “The devil you knew, I guess.”
“You’re not alone anymore.” I smiled.
Remy stayed quiet, but some of the darkness lifted off his face.
“So what now?” I asked.
“I’ll do what I had planned originally, but this time for the right reasons.” Remy finally smiled at me.
I hadn’t seen that strength in his resolve since before he was shot.
“I’m going back to the Beaner Hotel to talk with Bones.”
He was committed, and I supported him a hundred percent. There was only one problem…
“Like hell you’re going back there by yourself.” I scoffed.
“Star, it’s too dangerous,” he replied sternly.
“I’m the only reason you survived that place the first time. You are out of your fucking mind if you think I’m letting you walk back into there alone.” My gaze was carved from granite. I was unshakeable.
“Star, I have to do this al—”
“You shut your fucking mouth! There is only one way this goes down. After everything that’s happened, you either trust me enough to be by your side no matter what, or you drive me to an airport right now,” I yelled at him. I wouldn’t go through all that from the sidelines. My eyes watered, but I fought it away. I refused to let him see me cry, not right now. I needed to know that he trusted in me.
Remy’s eyes flared, but otherwise, he was impossible to read.
I understood the risks. I could be killed or worse, but I would take that in a heartbeat over waiting at home, safe, not knowing if he’d ever return to me.
“Star, I don’t know how this plays out. I was lucky last time. The smallest mistake—” Remy shook his head. “This time… there’s a good chance we’ll both end up dead.”
“I don’t care,” I said definitively.
Dusk choked away the fleeing sun. When Remy looked up at me, a dying sunbeam caught his eye perfectly. He smiled. He knew I was right. We embraced, silently watching the sunset, wondering if this would be the last one we’d ever see.
“Alright,” he relented, pulling me tighter. “We’ll either be together in this life or the next.”