CHAPTER ONE
Dixie Rose
Pressing my foot on the gas, I open up the engine of my Chevy Camaro. Black Betty growls. I weave through the cars on the highway, hell bent on reaching my hometown. Thoughts of my father swim in my mind. Is he still alive? Will he survive this?
The years spent pulling all-nighters, partying hard, and taking on too much stress have finally gotten to him. They wheeled him into Mount St. Joseph hospital two hours ago.
I made the drive from Santa Monica in under an hour, breaking laws and driving with the aggressive skills honed on the busy highways of California. The familiar landscape is nothing more than a blur. I’m going too fast, and my ability to focus is shot. All that matters is reaching San Mateo. I know how their hospital is going to play it. They’ll bust the club’s balls and tell them they can only let in and release information to the next of kin or emergency contact.
Despite the AC blowing from the vents, a fine sheen of sweat coats my body. My father is everything to me. Mother, father, sister, brother, and extended family. I never knew my mother, and unlike many single fathers in our lifestyle, he never pawned me off on someone else. His philosophy is…we’re in it together. That means it was him and me against the world.
And then I left.
Guilt shreds me from the inside like poison tipped claws, releasing toxins into my bloodstream. I hit the brakes and skid into the parking lot, steering the car precariously into an open spot. After fumbling with the seatbelt with clumsy fingers and shaky hands, I manage to remove the strap, stumble from the car, and take a shaky breath. This wild-eyed, panicked persona won’t win me any points with the Kings, or help him.
Knock it the fuck off, Dunn. Time to woman up.
My heels clack against the blacktop as I walk through the rows of cars. I spot a line of parked motorcycles up front. My stomach drops, and I feel as if I’ve started the descent down a large hill. I run out of steam a few feet from the Harleys, faltering at the thought of facing their knowing eyes and censure. Everyone has an opinion about me and the way I handled things. I’m used to the malicious stares peppered in. It’s the silent accusations that kill me. At least I have the Grans. Grandpa and Grandma Dunn had accepted me and loved me with the single-minded-all-consuming-love that only grandparents are capable of.
As I stare at the double doors, my past rushes up and consumes me. The loneliness, shame, and self-loathing are the bile creeping up the back of my throat. God hates me. I’ve suspected it from the minute I was old enough to realize how fucked up my living situation was. Yet I didn’t let that stop me. I’m a part of Chaos. We don’t bitch and whine. We change what doesn’t work and keep it moving. It doesn’t matter if we’re dying inside. Maybe that’s why so many of us have a wicked vice of going a little mad. All that holding in emotions and pretending to be okay. Never mind the dirt, blood, and secrets that cover each and every one of us. We can pretend it’s a motorcycle club that loves to ride, but in the back of our minds, the reality is always there staring us in the face. It’s a fucked up thing when you see shit on the news and know the people you love caused it. The club has an ugly side and a hefty price tag.
I didn’t want to pay the toll, so I left. There was no gain for me, not when I was treated like a pariah. It wasn’t everyone, just a few, but it was one too many. I know I shouldn’t have let it stop me. Nothing changes the fact that I ought to have been around more for Pops.
Maybe this is my punishment for being a shitty daughter.
A month after I broke my rule about mixing with the club, I’ve returned with no immediate exit strategy in sight. I’ve avoided this place like the plague for over ten years, and now I can’t get away. I’d do anything for my father. The man loved me and fought for me from the minute he knew I existed. It wasn’t easy being a single father in the club. When you add the fact that I represented everything some of the patch members were against, its miraculous I came out as well as I did. I think I was drawn to psychology because what I wanted most when I left San Mateo was answers. About myself, about the world I grew up in, and about people who blindly hate.
I’ve learned a lot over the years, but the one thing I could never figure out was how to come home without feeling like I was compromising myself and undoing all the work I’d done. I grew up in the club, but I never felt like I belonged. It put a strain between me and my father. I regret my choices now, as I pray the cardiac arrest he went into doesn’t steal him from this world. I let it go too long. I knew better. No one understands better than I and my family how fleeting life can be. My mind goes back to Psycho’s fucked up assassination, because truly that’s what it was. A senseless snuffing out of life.
I give advice to people all day long, but I’m too chicken shit to face my demons. It’s ironic really. Those who can’t do, teach. Those who can’t function in a non-dysfunctional manner, become psychologists. Or at least I had. It made me feel like a fraud. Tired of being held captive by the bonds of the past, I square my shoulders like a soldier going into battle, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. I gave them the finger once and rode off into the sunset with a full ride to college and plans for a good life. I won’t revert to the cowardice preteen now.
With my spine rediscovered, I enter via the double doors with my head held high. The sight of all their cuts boasting the crowned Kings makes me queasy.
“Dixie Rose,” a voice booms.
I glance up and spot Stone.
“Where you been, girl? Get your ass over here, so we can find out how your daddy is doing,” Stone says. His voice is husky and his eyes are bloodshot.
I scurry over. When this man tells you to do something, you immediately comply. “I’m sorry, I got here as soon as I could,” I say, glad to have my task clearly labeled. “What happened?”
“One minute he was fine and the next, he was clutching his chest, and collapsing. His lips started turning blue. We managed to get an aspirin in him. I don’t know how much good it did.” Stone shakes his head.
“Are the Grans here?”
“No, they were out at the cabins. They’ll be pulling in soon.”
I grip Stone’s arm and let him lead me to the nurse’s station. I cannot lose my dad. “He has to be fine, he’s too damn ornery to let this take him out,” I whisper.
“His next of kin is here,” Stone says to the nurse at the desk.
“I’d like to see some identification,” the dark-haired nurse with the severe bun and dour facial expression says.
I grit my teeth, used to the disbelief that comes from having dark skin, and a Caucasian father. I dig into the purse hanging at my side, pull out my driver’s license, and glare at her.
She looks from my picture to the information they have on my father. “I see you are his emergency contact. Your father suffered a cardiac arrest.” She nods her head. “Okay, Ms. Dunn. I’ll call the doctor in to speak with you.”
“No, you need to tell me something, now,” I state.
“Ma’am, that’s against policy.” She glances over at Stone nervously.
“No. You don’t look at him. You look at me. I’m the one you need to be worried about right now.” I lean over the desk. “These men are my family. Don’t let this face and these work clothes fool you. I want to know if my father is alive and I’m not going to wait for you to track down the doctor who’ll take his sweet time getting up here to tell me.”
She clears her throat and shifts in her chair. “He is alive and stabilized, that’s all I can say.”
“There…was that so hard?” I ask.
She shakes her head. Her hazel eyes are full of disdain, anger, and fear.
I want to feel bad, but I don’t have it in me. From the minute I walked up, she judged me and gave me shit at the worst possible time. There were things I missed about this life, like getting straight to the point. There was no need for fake niceties. “You get all that, Stone?” I ask.
“Yeah, I got it, baby girl. Let me go tell the others,” Stone replies.
The mention of the others thrusts me back into icy waters. A chill rushes down my spine, and I can’t help but follow his journey with my gaze. I scan the crowd, searching for the one person I want to see the most, and the least at the same time.
Leaning against the wall, he looks like a mythical being. The golden strands of his hair fall around his shoulders, and his muscles flex in his forearms. All he needs is a hammer, and he’d be Thor.
His bright blue gaze collides with mine, and I’m lost. My heart bangs against my ribs like a prisoner rallying for freedom. Unable to move, I remain rooted like a tree grown up from the white and green tile floor.
“Miss?”
A baritone voice breaks the spell. I turn around and spot the silver-haired man with kind brown eyes, and a long face. His green scrubs makes him look pale. It felt like a death omen. My stomach aches.
“I’m Doctor Adams. I’ve been taking care of your father. Mr. Dunn is a very lucky man. We unclogged his blocked arteries using thrombolysis.”
“In layman’s terms, Doc,” I urge.
“We injected him with a clot-dissolving agent to get blood flowing back to his coronary artery. We’ll check in to see how they look and watch his progress. We’re hopeful with a new diet, exercise program, and the removal of stress, he’ll get back on his feet and avoid surgery altogether. The only answer if he continues the life he’s been living will be a pacemaker and even then, it will only extend his life so much.”
“I understand, Doc. He needs to realize he’s not a young man anymore.”
“He’s still under sedation, but coming to himself slowly, if you’d like to see him.”
I nod my head, working out my plan of attack in my mind. My father never liked to be told what to do. So, I’ll have to make him think this lifestyle change was his idea. “Can he have visitors? Those men out there, they’re family.”
“After you see him, one visitor at a time, for a few minutes apiece.”
“Thanks, Doc. I’ll go tell them.”
“Good. Nurse Reynolds will show you to his room. I’ll oversee your father’s recovery through the night, and then we’ll be talking to him about the necessary changes.” He’s off as suddenly as he appeared.
I walk over to Stone, relay the information, and return to the nurse’s station.
“He’s in room 416, third on the left,” Nurse Reynolds says.
“Thank you.” I hurry down the hall. I push the door open and peer inside. He looks so small lying there, far too still in the bed with a white blanket drawn up to his chin. Scooting the navy blue chair beside his bed, I sit and grab his hand; his swallows mine. The calluses remind me of the hands on policy he’s always had. Hell, he raised me with it. I can change a tire and oil with the best of them. Seeing this capable man felled is ripping my heart to pieces. “I’m here, Pops. And I’m going to stay here for as long as you need me,” I whisper.
His hand squeezes mine. “Always need you, Rosie.”
“Pops?”
His eyes flutter open. “What happened?”
“You had a heart attack. They’re working on clearing your arteries, but you have to change your lifestyle.”
He harrumphs. “No quack is going to tell me what to do. All gotta leave this place some time.”
“No time soon, if I can help it.”
“Takes more than a heart attack to put your old man in the ground.”
His voice is thready and whisper soft. It’s a far cry from the boisterous boom I grew up with. It’s a role reversal I never saw coming. I’m the caregiver who needs to protect him. “I know, Pops,” I say patting his hand.
“Brothers here?” he asks.
I can see him struggling to fend off the meds and regain awareness. “You know they are.”
“Mom and Dad?”
“On their way down from the cabin.”
“How long are you here?”
“As long as I need to be. I mean that,” I reply.
“You ready to commit to that?”
“Pops, you know my loyalty lies with you.”
“Yeah, but this place always sends you running.”
“None of that matters anymore.”
“You telling me you made your peace?” he asks.
His voice is stronger now, and I can see the thoughtfulness in his coffee-colored eyes. I never could lie to him. I glance at the doorway. “I’m saying… I’m trying.”
“That’s something at least.” He breathes heavily.
I tense, ready to press the call button if necessary.
“Go get Stone. I want to talk to him before the meds take me under again.”
“Okay, Pops. I’m going to be here till they kick me out.”
He grunts. “Go home, get settled in. I don’t need you watching me sleep, shit’s creepy.”
I laugh. He must be feeling better. He’s already grumpy and bossing me around. “Yeah, I hear you, Pops. I’ll be back in the morning then.”
He squeezes my hand. “Good to have you here. Just wish it was under better circumstances.”
“Me too.”
He releases my hand, and I walk back to the group warming the waiting room. I spot my Grans and make a beeline for them.
Stone follows me.
“How is he?” my grandfather asks.
“Good, grumpy. You know, usual Pops.”
The tension lines around his eyes ease.
“Oh, thank God,” my grandmother says, holding her hand over her heart.
“They used a medicine to try to clear the clots. They’ll be monitoring him tomorrow and checking on his progress. The doc thinks with a change of lifestyle, he could forgo a pacemaker.”
“Change of lifestyle?” Stone asks. His nostrils flare.
“Better food, less booze, and stress.” I shrug.
“Can I see him?”
“Doc says one visitor at a time for a few minutes apiece. Pops wants to see you before the meds make him loopy again.”
“All right. Good job here, baby girl.” Stone pats my back.
I give him a nod. He’s not a bad sort. He’s always treated me like the other kids. I respect him for that, but a part of me resents him for not changing the bylaws. I mean, he would have to take it to the table, but I know it’s doable. I give myself a mental shake. I need to stay in my lane. This is not a democracy. Old ladies don’t have sway in club business, I know that, yet I can’t help but wish things were different. “He wants me to go home and settle in. I’m going to do what he asks because I’ll have my hands full tomorrow, once the doc talks to him.” I’m already dreading the standoff.
“Hah, that’s an understatement,” my grandfather says.
“Talk some sense into him, will you, Pa?” I ask.
“Boy has always been bullheaded,” he replies.
“Wonder where he got it from?” Ma mutters.
I cough to hide my giggle and give them hugs as Stone heads toward Pop’s room. I keep my gaze trained on the floor as I approach the others. It’s a matter of respect. Leaving without speaking would be a snub. I have enough chips stacked against me without adding bad manners. I was bred better than that. I look up. “I’m sure P will fill you all in with the details. Pops had a heart attack. They got him stabilized and tried to clear the blocks to his arteries. We’re playing the waiting game to see how well the procedure took. Worst case, he’ll get a pacemaker. But they seem hopeful either way.”
“How are you doing?” a quiet voice asks.
I peer up and spot Wizard. I smile. The silent man always had a streak of kindness for the women of the club. “I’m here. Still a bit in shock. Pops has a larger than life vibe, you know?”
Wizard nods.
“You sticking around to see him back to health?”
I know the vindictive owner of this question. I meet his gaze head on. “Yeah, Mouth, I’ll be here as long as he needs me.”
“What about your fancy job at that high school? You think they’re going to twiddle their thumbs while you play in the mud with us?” Mouth asks. A sneer lines his thin lips. His cheeks are ruddy, and his pale green orbs are filled with hate. He was the biggest, or at least the most vocal racist among the Kings.
He’d made my life a living hell with his comments. I want to spit in his face, but he’s an elder, and a legacy, so he’s got me over a barrel. “They’ll deal with it,” I say, careful to keep the emotion out of every word.
“Right? ’Cause you’re so reliable. All you ever do is leave,” he spits.
“I’m here when I’m needed or asked to be,” I reply, not about to lie down and take it the way I once did.
I can see a glint of surprise in his spooky eyes. That’s right, motherfucker; I’m not a little girl anymore.
“We’re all on the edge. How about we let her go home, settle in, and catch her breath. Hoss is going to need her to get him out of here as quickly as possible,” Wizard says, working his magic yet again. He makes peace as easily as he ends lives.
“You were gone a long time, bitch. Best remember your place and the way things work around here,” Mouth says.
“I remember just fine,” I reply.
“Come on, kid, I’ll walk you to your car.” Shadow slips into view with Skull beside him. The two always had one another’s back, so I’m not surprised he’s shadowing him.
Had he been there the entire time?
He slings an arm around my shoulder and guides me away.
“Where’s Blue?” I ask, suddenly longing for my best friend.
“Out of town with Bolton, only reason she’s not here right now. They wanted to do some mother son bonding shit.” He shrugs.
I snicker. “They’re taking to the new roles, huh?” I ask, happy for my friend and the family she’d discovered.
“Been playing them his whole life. I think this was just a wake-up call. You okay? Shit looked like it was about to hit the wall in there,” Shadow asks.
“I couldn’t deal with his racist posturing on top of dealing with Pop’s brush with death. He wants to assert dominance, but I’m not his old lady or some King chaser. The only thing I owe him is respect. He’ll have to find another dark-skinned woman to break down and humiliate.”
Shadow whistles. “Shit, Dixie Rose.”
“I’m not a little kid he can make cry.”
“No one said you were,” Skull says. The mohawked brother has an intensity in his words that rings sincere.
I appreciate him throwing his support into my ring. “No one told him to shut the fuck up either,” I say.
“It’s a touchy subject,” Shadow defends.
“Not that we’re condoning it. You know we work in shades of grey,” Skull says.
“That’s a copout and you know it. It’s easy to ignore the elephant in the room when it doesn’t affect you directly. See, this bullshit is why I left. We’re supposed to be a family, right? Everything for the club. Protect it and the families at any cost. How the hell did I slip through the cracks if that was our motto?” I shrug off Shadow’s arm as we reach the car. “I know this isn’t on you, but it sucks, and I need to go before I say shit I don’t need to.” I hit the unlock button on my key fob.
“I get it. But you better get a hold of this shit. You can’t go mouthing off to the men in this club. You going to bring your old man and you trouble. Mouth is old school and we know he has no problem using his fists. He’ll draw your blood and call it justified,” Shadow says, opening the door.
“I wish he’d put his fucking hands on me,” I hiss.
Shadow arches a red brow.
I clench my fists. He hums, and I want to kick him in the shin.
He has a point. A valid one.
“I’m going to go home and get some sleep.” I climb into the car, gratefully sinking into the comfortable seat.
“You do that. Try not to let him get to you. His time is coming. The old is phasing out and it’s killing him.”
“Forgive me if I don’t feel any sympathy,” I say.
“Didn’t ask you to,” Shadow replies. He closes the door and taps on the hood.
I pull away and roll down the window, letting the night air clear my head. Pissing Mouth off and baiting him won’t get me anywhere. No one can undo the years of my childhood, and being home isn’t about him. It’s all about Pop. I round the corner and pull up into the driveway of the ranch house I grew up in. The floodgates open and I’m floored with memories.
***
San Mateo, 2000
The ping of rocks against my window pulls me from a light sleep. Warmth infuses my body. He’s here. I throw the covers off and climb onto my knees. My dad was pulled away on a run last minute, and I’m solo until the Grans come over tomorrow. I peer out the window and see him in the moonlight.
His blond hair is a halo around his angular face. He’s all high cheekbones and icy blue eyes, like most of his Nordic ancestors. His lips are pink and the perfect size for kissing, nibbling, and biting.
My stomach flip flops, and the familiar ache in my center begins to pulse. No boy has ever made me feel the way Joel does. I never thought I’d find someone so special. Civilians can’t see past the club and my pops. Club boys don’t want to risk getting their asses kicked if they break some patched member’s daughter’s heart. Also, when it came to me, they couldn’t see past color. Ridiculous, that in this day and age it mattered, but it does for me. When my club doesn’t patch in Black members, and my skin is a cocoa brown, it’s impossible not to stand out. Most members could give a shit, but there are those who think separation should still be a real and practiced thing. Joel’s father is the ringleader of hate. What am I doing?
Joel flashes me an almost shy grin.
Yeah, I’m melting. I’m choosing to be happy for once in my life and forgetting about everything else. He makes me feel brave and carefree. When I’m with him…nothing else exists. I open the window, and he jogs over, climbing inside. It’s not the first time he’s snuck in, and I know against my better judgment, it won’t be the last.
“Hey, I didn’t think you were coming,” I say. With no one else in the house, there’s no need to whisper.
“I had to wait until my brother crashed. You know how nosey he is.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I do.”
“But I’m here now.” His gaze rakes over me.
I resist the urge to cover my chest. I’m wearing a small pair of boxers, and a black tank top, which suddenly feels downright indecent.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, leaning in to wrap my hair around one of his fingers.
“Nothing. I…just. We’ve never been entirely alone before,” I say.
“Hey, you know I’d never hurt you or force you to do anything you don’t want, right?”
“Yeah, I know,” I whisper, glancing down to my lap.
“Look at me, Dixie Rose. If all I wanted was a piece of ass, I could get it. We both know that. This is about me and you.”
I take a deep breath and nod. It’s hard to believe he’s interested.
He’s a year older, sexy, smart, and a shoe-in to prospect for Kings of Chaos. He has his pick of the ladies.
“What are you doing here with me?” I ask.
“Are you kidding me?” he counters. His eyes go wide, and he closes the distance between him and the bed. “You’re gorgeous for one. That’s not all, but I don’t think people tell you enough. So I will. Hell, I better be the only one telling you.” A fire rises in his blue-green eyes.
My stomach flutters.
He runs his thumb over my lips. “You have those full lips.” He tugs my hair gently. “And this soft, curly hair. Shit, I can’t tell you how long I dreamt about discovering if it was as soft as it looks. You’re sexy as hell without trying, and you’re a good girl. All these sluts are used up and old before their time.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want that.”
“So you want…what? A kid?”
“No, I want a good girl.” He caresses the shell of my ear. “My good girl, tailor made for me. I don’t want you to know anything because I want to show you. I want to be your teacher, the person you trust most.”
“I-I’m not eighteen.”
“Yet. I’m not in a rush. I’m a man patient enough to wait.” He pulls back.
In that moment, I understand he’s no boy, despite his age. The club grows you up fast, and his father was one of the most hardcore motherfuckers out there. I’m sure it rubbed off on him.
“What I need to know is if you’re all in with me, or not. You all in, Dixie Rose?”
I hesitate knowing somehow, this will change everything.
He waits for my response, watching me with those electric blue eyes.
I swear they can peer right into my soul.
“Give me a chance, girl.”
“Okay.”
He grins. “I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.” He winds his fingers in my hair, pulls me to him, and presses a kiss to my lips that makes me forget every reason I had for saying no. It’s the first move he’s made toward me. This is officially happening.
***
Present
The lying bastard hadn’t made it all worth it though. He’d possessed me body and soul. Made me burn for him and live to serve him. There was nothing I wouldn’t have done for him. For my trouble, he bailed on me when I needed him most. My vision wavers. Pissed, I dash the droplets away. After all this time, I continue to allow him to hurt me. It was two years out of my life. I wasn’t even a woman yet. Why can’t I just let it go? Because it was everything, and you know it, an honest voice whispers inside my mind. I cut the engine, climb from the car, and slowly make my way up the walk, seeing the ghosts of my past at every step.