Chapter One
Guilt sits heavy in my gut and has ever since the night with Gunner a week ago. I feel like I betrayed my dead husband and that’s a horrible feeling to bear. I could make excuses all day long for why it happened—Jesus, I’m the one that started it—but no amount of excuses would make fucking one of his club brothers acceptable.
I could say it was the alcohol, but realistically I wasn’t drunk enough to not know what I was doing.
I could say it was the fact I have been lonely since the day my husband got killed, but I went three years without another man. Why would I jump on Gunner the first chance I got?
I’ll tell you why: because he looks downright sexy, plain and simple. He’s changed since the last time I saw him; his long blondish-brown hair is gone now, it’s short in a buzz cut. His beard is no longer there, just shadowy stubble where he might grow it back. He’s still the same hard-bodied, tall, tattooed man as before, but I was looking at him in a whole new light last week.
Maybe that moment had been building between us for some time now and I didn’t realize it until we saw each other again. Gunner was the one to hold me and give me comfort the night Ripper died. If Crazy Girl wasn’t with me, then Gunner was. Up until the day I left, they took care of me when I couldn’t even bring myself to get out of bed. He would lay with me, hold me, and let me cry. When I’d wake from nightmares of seeing my husband take his last breath, he would pull me in close and whisper soothing words, rubbing my back until I’d fall back to sleep.
When Gunner got locked up, I knew he couldn’t talk to the guys and felt it was time for me to be there for him. I didn’t want him to be alone, so I wrote him letters. I wrote one letter, once a week for three years. I told him not to write me back, but to just enjoy what I was sending. The letters weren’t really anything special, just about how my week went, what was happening in the world, and I would tell him stories of when I was younger. I hope he got a good laugh from some of those stupid stories.
So…imagine my surprise when he came strolling up with Hanger on the exact same day I decided to come back. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him that day, and he was no longer Gunner, Ripper’s brother, he was Gunner, this sexy, built man that I’m attracted to. I knew he had gone three years without being with a woman, and after our ride on his bike I didn’t want him to fuck one of the whores. I wanted him to fuck me—that he did, and he did it well.
My emotions are all over the place now, and I don’t know how to deal with them or figure them out, because from the time I met Ripper, he was all I ever saw. I never once looked at any of the other guys in this club, until I returned here and laid eyes on Gunner again. I never pictured myself wanting another man, but I did or do. Hell, I don’t know. The only thing I do know is I feel fucking guilty for it, and I can’t let anything with Gunner happen again. One-time deal, that’s it!
Besides, why should I be able to move on with my life when Ripper can’t? He was taken from me way too soon, and it’s not fair that I have to be here without my husband. I should have died that day.
With the way I ran out of the clubhouse, the gunshots being exchanged and I didn’t even care if I got hit. I didn’t try to dodge the bullets—all I wanted was to get to my husband—but by some miracle not a single one hit me. Most people would be thankful for that, but I wonder if life would have been better on the other side with him, rather than being subjected to this fucked-up world.
I had a plan when I decided to return here, and it never involved another biker when I walked through those gates. Especially one of Ripper’s brothers. I wanted to work in the bar again and make some money while keeping my cousin, Tinsley, safe and hidden. That plan fell to shit when I looked into Gunner’s crystal clear blue eyes.
Later than night I was asking Gunner to make me forget and he did, but it wasn’t just during the amazing sex, it was from the moment I straddled his bike. I wasn’t Ripper’s Ol’ Lady anymore—I was just Chatty, the twenty-eight year old woman having a good time. The first good time I’ve had in so long, and not once did I think about being a widow. Not once did I think about Ripper, either, and he fills my thoughts day in and day out. Because of that, my heart feels heavy, and I’ve been beating myself up over my situation for the last week.
The girls wanted to get together today for lunch and shopping, no doubt to discuss what happened at the BBQ. I need this girls’ day more than anything. Friends, shopping, and gossip—I’m in.
Tinsley and I walk into the restaurant; it’s not overly packed for an afternoon lunch hour, which makes it nice because I am starving. Our table is in the back and as we head that way, I look around at the quaint little place. Lit candles sit on top of the white tablecloths so the lighting is dimmed some; empty wine glasses and silverware rolled in white cloth napkins are placed for each of the four wooden chairs per table. The décor is old—vintage antiques and black and white portraits hang on the walls, which are painted half turquoise and half chocolate brown, with white trim separating the two colors.
Already seated at our table is Crazy Girl, Jacey aka Lil Mama, Daphne, Sierra, and Audrey. The only one that’s still missing is Ever, Crazy Girl’s twin sister. I don’t know Audrey or Daphne that well and I’ve only been around Sierra a few times, but they all seem nice.
Five years ago, I didn’t have any friends outside of the guys. The whores were less-than-pleased that Ripper brought me in as his Ol’ Lady because I took my man away from them. I had to gain my respect and they had to learn I wasn’t the bitch to fuck with. Crazy Girl did it after me, followed by Jacey.
Crazy Girl and I immediately hit it off and she’s my best friend. Jacey, on the other hand… We had a rocky start, because I didn’t like how she did Bear—and, in fact, I thought she was a fucking bitch. That’s why I’ve never really adapted to calling her Lil Mama, the name Bear gave her. I know she had her reasons for why she put Bear through hell and she’s made up for her mistakes, but Jacey hasn’t won my respect yet. I don’t judge her for the choices she made and Bear got past all that, but those guys are family to me and when you fuck with them, you fuck with me. I keep the peace, though, for Crazy Girl’s sake.
Tinsley and I pick our seats and start looking at the menu. When the waitress comes over, I order a Pepsi with a big juicy burger and fries because, like I said, I’m starving, and I’m not a woman who is scared to eat. As soon as the waitress leaves from getting all of our orders, including Ever’s, the BBQ gossip gets started.
“Why did you leave so fast, Daphne?” Crazy Girl questions before taking a sip from her wineglass, which the waitress filled with water.
“It’s too much for me, and I couldn’t be there any longer.” Her response is evasive, and the way she is fidgeting makes me wonder if there isn’t a whole lot more to her story. Daphne is gorgeous! Her hair’s long and black, with some platinum white underneath. Barely any of her skin shows with all of the artwork she displays, and not many women can pull off a septum piercing, but it looks good on her. Daphne’s eyes, though, tell so much; the anger shines behind the dark coating of mascara. Since she is a tattoo artist, I wonder if she hasn’t given herself most of the decorative ink she displays.
“I know I’m never going back there. I can’t deal with Hacker’s shit any longer. I’m sorry, I love you ladies, but it’s just not worth it anymore,” Sierra admits while shaking her head. I witnessed firsthand at the BBQ how he treats the doctor, and it’s a little uncalled for. I don’t know what the hell happened between the two of them, but I’ve never seen Hacker act the way he does when she comes around.
Sierra is a genuinely good person and the oldest of all of us. In her forties, she still looks amazing and could pass easily for being in her early thirties. She wears a little makeup to cover the dusting of freckles she has and her red hair is all natural. Black circles are prominent under her bright green eyes that scream she needs sleep. We don’t know much about her besides she’s an OBGYN, and I’m sure that’s a tiresome job.
“I don’t know what the hell his problem is when you come around, but I’d like to nut-punch the shit out of him for it,” Jacey says with a look of disgust. Bear always said Jacey was exotic-looking, and he wasn’t lying. Her tanned skin matches her dark brown hair, but what really makes her unique is the fact her eyes are two different colors. One is green while the other is brown. She seems so much happier now that she isn’t a doctor anymore, but is following her true dream and has her own record label now. She even signed on one of the hottest new bands, The Betrayed.
“Yeah, I’ve never seen him act so harsh before,” I put my two cents in. The doctor stays quiet.
“Well… I don’t know what’s worse—that, or being mistaken for a whore?” The words come from Tinsley.
“Better than being one.” Oh, no! There goes my mouth. I wasn’t thinking when I blurted out a response to my cousin.
“Who thought you were a whore? And what are you talking about, Chatty?” Crazy Girl furrows her brows in confusion.
Tinsley knows what happened because after I left Gunner’s room I came into ours crying. I like to consider myself tough—you kind of have to be in the club life—but I spilled everything, she held me and comforted me until I fell asleep, and she tried to reassure me that I did nothing wrong. In my heart, though, it feels like I did something unforgivable. My brain says it felt so right and good and amazing. The struggle is real! And this internal battle is one I’m not ready to battle publicly yet.
“He had the dark complexion, is good-looking, and has tattoos. I don’t know his name. He came up behind me while I was bent over looking in the fridge and grabbed my hips. He said he wanted me in his room in ten minutes. I spun around so fast I practically gave myself whiplash, and told him I was Chatty’s cousin not one of those…” Tinsley’s voice lowers so no one can hear her and she leans in closer to the table. “Whores.” She sits back in her seat again and with a wave of her hand goes on. “I’m sure my eyes were big enough to scare him off, because he backed away and walked out of the room without another word.” She takes a sip of her water.
Crazy Girl, Jacey, and I bust out laughing and say, “Romeo.” I’m sure if Romeo would have seen her from the front he wouldn’t have gotten her confused with one of those black hole serpents. Tinsley is a beautiful woman, but too sweet for the MC lifestyle. She has an innocence to her, even though she’s twenty-five years old. Tinsley has that girl next door look, with dark brown eyes that can pull you in, and hair to match. Her smile is endearing with her bottom lip fuller than the top and her cute little nose. She’s petite like me, but where I have the big ass and thicker thighs, everything about Tinsley is small.
“So, Chatty, out with it.” Crazy Girl sits back in her seat, arms crossed over her chest, and waits for me to talk.
“I fucked Gunner and now I don’t know what to do.” My head hangs, and now I’m the one fidgeting with my napkin.
“You what!?” Crazy Girl and Jacey whisper-yell at me.
“You heard me!” I say back louder. Why aren’t they questioning the others? They’re super quiet about each of their issues with one of the guys.
“Do you ladies want to talk about it, or vent?” Jacey asks before adding, “We’re here if you need anything.” That’s her I want you to tell us all about it because we are some nosy bitches and want all the juicy gossip voice.
Amazing timing! Ever walks up, looking a little nervous and shy as she gives a small smile and a little wave before taking the last empty chair. Ever grabs the menu, but Crazy Girl stops her and is probably telling Ever that she already ordered for her. Ever is deaf, so you have to use ASL to communicate with her, and I don’t know how so I just have to assume, but after a few minutes of signing between the two, Ever spits her water out of her mouth and I know Crazy Girl told her about me and Gunner.
Ever reaches for my hand and gives me her silent it will be okay look. I hope she is right, because right now it doesn’t feel that way. I give her a faint smile just as the waitress brings our food. Ever and Crazy Girl are identical twins and the only way you can tell the two apart is because Crazy Girl has hot pink streaks through her blonde hair. They are both short like me—Crazy Girl is a little curvier than Ever—but they both have those full lips, cute little button noses, and sky blue eyes.
“So that’s why you’ve been avoiding him like the black plague,” Jacey states quietly. All I do is nod as I take a big bite of the delicious burger.
We talk while eating, and Crazy Girl interprets for Ever so she doesn’t miss anything, and she speaks aloud for Ever so those of us that don’t know ASL understand. Ever gives updates on how her pregnancy is going, even though it’s only been a week since she found out. I can see why she is so excited; after coming back from New York, I guess it took her and Writer a while to get in a good place. I’m glad Crazy Girl kept me updated on everyone, or I would be so lost right now.
Audrey talks about her new relationship with Hunter and how great it’s going. I swear, she dyes her hair more than anyone I’ve ever met. Last week it was black and pink, now it’s a sapphire blue. She’s very pretty, though, and, like Daphne, a lot of her skin is covered in tattoos. I wonder if Daphne does her inkwork also, since Audrey is her receptionist, after all. Her hazel eyes show she’s already in love with Hunter.
Jacey, Crazy Girl, and Daphne talk about their kids and how Bear and Hanger want more, but the girls want to wait a while. The rest of us stay quiet because we don’t have kids, but we listen to what they say, nod at the right moments, and ooh and ahh when they tell a cute story about one of the little ones. It never bothered me, not having kids with Ripper, because he was fifteen years older than me and didn’t want any, but the way their faces light up while they talk, I kind of feel like I’m missing out on something. Something I’ll never experience now.
After lunch is over and paid for, we go check out Ever’s store, Lady Sinners. I love shopping—and I mean I am obsessed with it! And I need some retail therapy in my life right now. I’m surprised to see Shug, one of the club whores, behind the counter as we walk in.
“Why does Ever have Shug working for her?” I ask Crazy Girl as I lean closer to her so no one else can hear me. I’m not quiet most of the time, but I wouldn’t want to come across as being rude.
“Ever said she saw something in Shug and that she doesn’t belong in the club as a whore so she wanted to give her a job.” My brow cocks at that.
“Interesting.” Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never had a problem with Shug, she’s one of the few, but she’s still there to spread her legs for the men.
“I know, I thought the same thing, but Ever started talking to Shug and getting closer to her. Maybe there’s something we don’t know.” Crazy Girl shrugs her shoulder as we continue piling in the store. Could be; I can’t say I’ve ever given one of them a chance to even get to know them.
As I walk through the store, the clothes are amazing! She even has a room in the back with the tanks and tops with Property of Satan’s Sinners on them for the women of the club. This room is filled with black and red material for the club colors, leather, and outfits for Hacker’s dancers.
I grab items from the back and front of the store, and after a few hours, I’m leaving with heaps of bags in my arms. I’m not the only one, though—it looks like all the girls are leaving with just as much, except Sierra. She only has one small bag and it makes me wonder why, but who am I to go around asking why someone doesn’t want to spend their money? Maybe she’s not a shopper.
We all give our congratulations, whether it be on paper or in ASL, to Ever. Tinsley doesn’t know these ladies yet like I do, but we are all proud as hell that Ever has accomplished her dream. I just wish she wouldn’t have had to leave Writer to figure it out, but shit happens and people learn from it. We all gush about how great the clothes are and how awesome the store is, then one by one we file out the door, say our goodbyes, and head in the direction of our cars.
“I like the girls,” Tinsley states as she pulls her white Ford Fusion out of the parking space.
“Yeah, I missed them so much, and after being gone three years, it’s really great to be back together.” They are the definition of true friends—be there for you through anything kind of girls. Not this if I’m not getting something out of it then you’re screwed type that you see a lot of. I know that if I need anything, they will be there without question or expecting something in return.
“I hope to have them as friends like that.”
“You already do. They’ve already accepted you into our circle.” Smiling, I turn on the radio and sit back, thinking about how lucky I really am to have them in my life again. Those girls welcomed me back in with arms wide open, after leaving them and not always keeping in contact, and made me feel as if I had never left them.
*****
I just returned to the clubhouse from lunch and shopping with the girls. I unloaded all of my bags, took them to the room I’m sharing with Tinsley, and dumped all of the clothes in my hamper so I can wash them before wearing.
I still can’t believe I let it slip about Gunner and me, I think as I’m walking into the old room. My eyes scan over the pictures of Ripper and me on the walls; the first day he brought me to the clubhouse, our wedding, us on the back of his Harley, and random pictures of us throughout the five years we shared. Opening up the closet, I pull one of his shirts off the hanger and put it up to my nose. The smell of leather, oil, and the cologne he wore are fading. Carrying the shirt tightly against my chest as I move over to the bed, I lie down. I pick up the photo of Ripper and the original Sinners off the nightstand and my finger traces over his much younger face. “I’m so sorry,” I say to the picture as I go back eight years to the first time we met.
“Lindy, get ready, it’s midnight. The bikers will be coming in any minute.”
“I’m ready,” I respond to Katelynn, the waitress, from behind the bar. I’ve only been working as the bartender here at The Tavern since Monday night. This will be my first Saturday, and so far the tips are paying out well; I already have three jars full, and it’s about to get even busier.
I just moved out here to Kansas a month ago because I wanted a change from Arizona. I have family there, but that’s it; one day I just decided to clear out my bank account, buy a bus ticket for some random place they had available, then I left and haven’t looked back yet. I keep in touch with my cousin, Tinsley, and I call my parents to check in once a week—other than that, my life back home is a closed book. Luckily for me, this little bar took my word for being twenty-one, I was close enough just shy a few months, I told them I would work only for tips, so no paperwork was involved.
Loud male voices come barreling through the front door; a group of fifteen guys dressed in leather, jeans, and t-shirts sit at a few of the empty tables. Katelynn saunters over with a little extra swing in her hips and a big smile on her pretty face.
When she returns to the bar, she asks for five pitchers of beer and I go about making them. I don’t pay attention to the group any longer since I have more drink orders coming in.
The night’s coming to a close and I’ve cleaned up the bar, washed all of the glasses, and made sure everything was stocked for the next day. As I’m emptying out my tip jars, I hear, “Hey, gorgeous! You wanna go for a ride when you’re finished?”
Looking up, I see the sexiest man I’ve ever seen in my life. His chin-length blonde hair is tucked behind his ears, and he has blue eyes the color of the ocean, a full beard you want to grab hold of while he kisses you senseless, and a smile that melts your panties away with a dimple that screams his sex appeal.
“Are you crazy?” I question as I stop what I was doing, put my hand on my hip, and wait to see if he is actually serious right now.
“Some might say so.” He chuckles, then adds, “I’ll take good care of you. I promise.” He makes a cross over his heart.
“That’s cute and all, but I don’t just take off with men I don’t know. You could be a serial killer amongst a lot of other bad shit. I don’t even know your name, how old you are, where you live, what your favorite color is, what your favorite movie is, and what kind of music you like. I don’t really need to know the last few answers, but proving my point—I don’t know you. So, no, I won’t be riding off with you to God knows where.”
“You’re a chatty one aren’t you?” He laughs, then says, “The name’s Ripper.”
I throw my arms in the air. “And that’s supposed to make me wanna leave with you? Ripper…what the hell kinda name is that? You gotta do better than that if I’m going anywhere with a guy named Ripper.”
Ripper pulls out his wallet that’s attached to a chain, opens it and gets a hundred dollar bill out, throws it on the bar, and stands. “Deal. Thanks for the drinks, Chatty. You’ll see me again, and I’ll have you on the back of my bike soon enough.”
Smiling and shaking my head, I get back to work.
It wasn’t soon enough, it was months, months I made him chase after me. Ripper came back every night I worked at that bar and gave me one new detail about himself. Once he did get me on the back of his bike, our relationship took off like lightning: fast, bright, and dangerous. I loved every second of it!
Putting everything back where it was, I walk out the door, close it behind me, and walk to the bar. Relieving Drifter from bartending, I get to work on taking inventory of what I might need to get stocked up on.
The guys walk into the room, I guess just finishing up on church, and head to the bar. They don’t need to tell me what they drink because I have it down to the T; I’m even memorizing the new guys’ poison of choice. I get busy making drinks and opening different kinds of beer, leaving Gunner for last. I don’t look at him as I set the Corona down in front of him and I decide the tables could use a good cleaning, even though no one has sat at them.
“You want to talk about it?” Looking up at my best friend’s voice, I see that Crazy Girl stands there, sympathy in her gaze.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Lowering my voice, I say, “It was just sex.”
“By the way he’s looking at you, it was more than that to him.” We both turn our heads in Gunner’s direction.
His crystal clear blue eyes are pinned on me as he brings the bottle to his lips. My body heats as a shiver runs through me at the memory of that night. Shaking it off, I repeat, “It was just sex.” I go back to obsessively cleaning an invisible spot on the wooden table.
Crazy Girl wraps her arm around my shoulders. “I’ve never seen you so quiet, Chatty. Just know that I’m here if you want to talk—and you didn’t do anything wrong.” She squeezes me a little tighter as tears spring up.
Making eye contact, I whisper, “It was just sex.” I’ll keep telling myself that over and over until I actually believe it.
“Yeah, okay.” She releases me and walks towards her husband as I move on to the next table.