20.

Elise

 

Beau rolls the Explorer to a stop outside Moe’s bar, double parking in front of a row of bikes. Several Lords spill out to greet us as if they’ve been waiting for us. It’s weird to see the Illinois rockers again. Seeing as the last time I had, Beau and I were in a completely different place in our relationship. As in, according to me, we didn’t have one. All my doing, running scared. I even kneed him in the balls.

At the memory, I snicker. Beau glances at me out of the corner of his eyes, smirking. I know he remembers it too.

The men stand guard while Beau and I are escorted inside. Smoke not as thick as the last time I’d been here, but in my opinion, still too thick for this time of day. I fan the air in front of my face, and cough.

Rick, the bartender, waits to speak until the door closes behind us, then he turns to me. “You’re a lot of trouble, little girl.”

Then with a chin lift to Beau, Rick asks him, “Sure you’re not ready for some new snapper?”

I gasp, first from being called such a derogatory word as ‘snapper’—as if I have nothing more to offer than what’s between my legs—and second because, well, I finally admitted to Beau that I love him, and thirdly, this isn’t my fault. Beau predictably pins him with the death glare of all death glares.

Rick holds up his hands like he’s surrendering. “Hey, I’m just saying, plenty of pussy to fuck without all the headache.”

“Keep sayin’ it, and you won’t have to worry about my headaches ‘cuz you’ll be dead. Got me?” Then Beau turns to me. “We’re waitin’ on Liv. Got some business to discuss with the brothers in back. Stay here, yeah?”

“Yeah, baby,” I answer, because this time, I’m not about outrunning Beau, but am all about staying safe and alive.

Very suddenly he fists a handful of my hair to pull me in for a brief, yet highly expressive kiss. Not one of his sweet ones from this morning, but more possessive to show these men exactly what they’re in charge of protecting.

Yes, I get all that from a kiss.

Then just as abruptly he drops his hand and walks out of the main bar area to a room off the back of the bar, by the hallway leading to the restrooms. And he does it leaving me breathless for a moment until a snicker has me recovering quickly.

“I’m Crass.” The snickering man introduces himself.

“No doubt.” Slips out without my meaning it to. Me and my mouth. But luckily he barks out a laugh in lieu of causing me bodily harm.

“You got looks and sass.” The jerk reaches out to run his thumb over my lips. “Can’t tell you how badly I wanna fuck that mouth right now.”

“Um…” Before he gets a wild hair to act on his desire to violate my lips, I slowly back away from him.

“Don’t worry. You’re the founding chapter VP’s old lady, you’re safe. Doesn’t mean I can’t fantasize.”

“I’d rather you didn’t, if it’s all the same. Beau—erm—Boss is the only one who gets to have relations with any part of me, and he’d probably break your neck for looking twice my way.”

He laughs again. “Beau? Seems I really mistook the situation.”

“Uh, how did you take the situation?”

“Thought maybe you started as a piece who worked her way up the ranks. Did your time as a hot mama. If the gash is good enough.”

Dear God, what is wrong with these men? I found snapper bad enough, but gash? That’s reprehensible. “I take offense to the term gash, and I was never a piece or hot mama. Never.”

“Can see that now. A hot mama, even elevated to old lady, would never call Boss by his given name. Now you’re really safe. You girlie, just earned my personal protection.”

“Why? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“Let’s just say I know a little about having it and having it taken away.”

I understand a great deal about this man now. “Sorry,” I tell him with nothing else to say, because I am.

But he doesn’t answer me, instead turns to slam the whiskey Rick had slid on the bar next to him while we were talking.

His signal to the end of our conversation. But now having had it, I feel safer being here until Beau can bring me back home.

We only sit silent for about five minutes when Livvy walks in. Same gorgeous strawberry blonde locks as before, but today, as compared to how she’d dressed the first time we met, she’s dressed down. In a pair of dark jeans, which make her butt look fabulous.

And I know I’m not the only one who thinks it, as every pair of eyes left in the bar follows that butt as it makes the walk toward me. The woman paired those jeans with a black leather halter top not even long enough to cover her abs, and black biker boots. She just rewrote the definition of hot while here I am, standing at the bar wearing an oversized tee and yoga pants.

“Girl, we have a lot of catch up coming.” This is how she greets me. It’s nice to see her again, though I wish our reunion could be under better circumstances. Thin, toned arms wrap around me once she reaches me.

“Yes, I guess we do.”

“So I guess this means Beau doesn’t have to die?”

That garners a laugh, an actual happy memory of me and Liv singing karaoke. I know she’s remembering too, as the smile spreads wide across her face and the high-pitched chipmunk laugh follows.

“No,” I tell her. “No, I really don’t want Beau dead. I shouldn’t have fought it, but I was scared. In my experience, it was easier to try to dislike him, than to admit I had feelings for him, which five years ago, ended in hurt. A whole lot of hurt.”

“But you’ve stopped fighting it?” The tone of our conversation turns.

“Yeah. He had to remind me that he’s worth taking a chance on again.”

“Take it he is.”

“Liv, he’s so worth it, I feel stupid for having fought it for as long as I did.”

She opens her mouth to respond but the men take that opportunity to file out of the back room, Beau in the lead, beelining straight for me. Only once he takes me fully into his arms does he acknowledge Livvy with a chin lift. “Liv.”

“Hey Bossman. Good to see you again.”

“Wish it was for shits and giggles. Thanks for takin’ my girl in.”

“Always…always.”

“Boss.” The president of the Illinois chapter approaches us. The patch on his cut says Tag, which I heard the men back home talking one day about his accomplishments. Apparently Tag is short for Toe Tag, making said accomplishments quite clear. Glad he’s on our side. “Boys don’t have all day. You got the escort now. The women need to leave the condo, they take a man with them. Crass here just volunteered. He’s a good man. Knows his shit. He’ll stay with them at all times. He’ll call backup for any outdoor excursions.”

“Crass, good to see you again.” Beau pats his arm. “I don’t have to remind you the precious cargo you’re protectin’.”

The man eyes both me and Livvy then nods his understanding. “Fully aware.”

 

***

 

We’re definitely a sight to behold. A Harley riding, black leather motorcade rumbling down Lake Shore Blvd. Though only Beau, Liv and I in Tommy’s Explorer, and Crass on his bike, pull into the parking garage. As we exit the vehicles, the men take up positions, Beau to the front of us, and Crass bringing up the rear. Seems a lot of extra trouble when Houdini shouldn’t even know where I am. But it makes my man feel better, so he’ll get no complaints out of me. He already shoulders more stress than one man should have to, no one can accuse me of adding to it. Not anymore. Nashville stressed him because of me. There will never be a repeat of Nashville. Not if I can help it.

Liv swipes a key card to gain us entry into the building. Her high rise has so many condos, the building so large, there are two elevators per wing, four wings total—north, south, east and west. Livvy lives in the north wing. As soon as we enter, Beau pushes the button for the fifteenth floor, meaning he’s been here before. As the doors shut, Liv digs her keys out of her purse.

“You remembered,” Beau says to her. She nods but gives no further insight on what he’s referring to. Though I can’t deny the bite of jealousy from my man and my friend having some sort of shared history.

“Get that look off your face,” he says. I look to Liv to determine what look she’s wearing. “Not her. You.”

Oh. Me? “Wha-what look am I supposed to get off?”

“The one that says you think I had sex with your friend. Woman, do you honestly think I’d have you, my old lady, my fiancé, holed up with some piece of ass I’d bedded in the past?”

“No. That’s not it. It’s just… I spent so much time fighting you. You had moments with Liv that I wasn’t a part of because I was too scared to trust you.” The tears start stinging my eyes. “And now you have to leave me. What if something happens, Beau?” God, I feel weak breaking down in front of Crass.

Beau has me in his arms though, holding me tight against his chest. “Shh… nothin’ gonna happen, darlin’. I’ll come get you in a couple a days.”

“He killed Shayla,” I whisper. “Something happens to you, I’ll have to live knowing I wasted those precious days. Or what if something happens to me? I was selfish and kept those memories from you.”

“You still trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Then trust nothin’ will happen. This is just precaution.”

“But what if—”

He cuts me off. “What if my aunt had balls? Then she’d be my uncle.”

“I just love you so much, Beau,” I whisper against his throat.

Thankfully the doors open for us, although I stare straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact with the witnesses to my emotional breakdown.

“Lucky bastard,” I think I hear Crass mutter as we exit. But that’s as much as either of them say about it.

Liv unlocks the door inviting the three of us inside her home. It’s a beautiful space, midcentury modern. Decorated in mushrooms. I love it. As much as I’d love to admire the space for a moment, Beau excuses us, leading me by the hand down a narrow hallway.

Yes, Beau knows exactly where he’s going and where he’s going is Livvy’s guestroom. What I expect is frantic, throw me on the bed, hardcore ‘I’m not going to see you for a few days and I’m angry this asshole Houdini is putting you in danger’ fucking. What I get is so far from that. So the opposite. I’m not flung. I’m scooped gently into his arms as he kicks the door closed with his foot. Then I’m even more gently laid across the bed, my hair spreading out over my pillow as if he’s staging a perfect memory to get him through.

When he moves his body over mine, it’s a slow, deliberate glide. And then…and then he takes my face in his large hands, stroking the apples of my cheeks with his calloused thumbs, the fingers on each hand holding against my neck and ears. He tilts my chin up just enough to capture my lips in a full, deliciously deep kiss. Again, nothing frantic. So much can be read from a kiss. And up ‘til now I thought he’d already given me his best kisses.

I was wrong.

If a picture can be worth a thousand words, this kiss has to be worth a million, all of them expressing, “I love you…you are my life” in a way saying the words never could.

Message received. Message so damn received, emotion clogs my throat and tears sting the corners of my eyes. Not sad like in the elevator. These tears emanate from some other emotion, altogether, and it’s altogether overwhelming. We are the air and trees, neither good without the other. We are the embodiment of need and love.

Slowly, and only breaking the kiss when he has to, to lift my T-shirt up over my head, but resuming the beautiful torture the moment the hem clears my lips, Beau undresses me. In the time since our reunion we’ve had all kinds of sex. From kinky fucking, to hardcore banging quickies. We’ve made love. But this—this has that something special which cannot be labeled. This something I’ve never until this moment known existed. Nothing short of the most beautiful, touching moment of my entire twenty-three years. So beautiful, so touching, I’m unsure if I’ll ever feel a moment like it ever again.

As he loves me, because there’s really no other word for it, as he loves me with kisses and our bodies connected, the buildup he builds within me can’t be described. Not as a tightening coil, or as a raging fire or even a slow burn. I’m at a loss for how to describe it, but just know it’s there building between us, for me, for us. Giving me the chance to process every emotion he’s communicating and giving me the chance to answer back.

When I finally hit my breaking point and tumble over the edge, I feel him filling me as he tumbles right along with me. And as I fall, it’s not on a scream of his name or a shout out to the Lord Almighty, but on a whispered gasp, concealing a promise. And it’s nothing short of the greatest orgasm given by anyone in the history of orgasms. Of this, I’m sure.

Beau still doesn’t speak, so neither do I. He rolls over, keeping his hand at my backside. He keeps us connected. We lay on our sides, my leg hitched up over his hip, face to face, chest to chest.

“You need me to pull out?” he whispers, finally breaking the silence.

Still too raw with emotion, I shake my head. I need to feel our connection for as long as possible.

“Good,” is all he answers. Then the room falls quiet again.

Well before I’m ready for it, a soft knock resonates against the door followed by Livvy’s soft voice. “Boss, Chaos is on my phone. He says he needs to speak with you right away. Says there’s been a development. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” His voice cracks. “Yeah, I’m comin’.”

He shifts pulling out of me, disconnecting us. Yet instead of letting go, I hold on tighter.

“Darlin’.” He coaxes my arms loose, or at least tries.

“Beau,” his name hiccups through my lips on a sob.

“Shh…it’s all gonna be fine, baby girl.”

“I know. Or I should know…it’s just…my head understands it’s just temporary. So then why does my heart feel like we’re really saying goodbye?”

The pain which shoots over his handsome face, he doesn’t need or deserve. How do I stop the way I feel, though? Nonetheless, he extracts himself from my hold as gently, as always, as possible, kissing my fingers at the knuckle before dropping my hand completely.

We both dress and when he leaves, I follow closely behind.

Even worse than the knowledge that my Beau will be leaving me is the pity stares from Liv and Crass directed solely at me, and hits square in the gut. Thus, they become the hardest looks to stomach at the moment. They become the hardest to stomach because at the moment, without a word spoken, I know our trip to Chicago has turned into more than a couple of days. Damn my instincts. My heart knew. Now the rest of me does, only to be confirmed even further by the blank look Beau targets my way as he listens to whatever Chaos has to say on the other end of the phone.

And the minute he hangs up, in two steps, I’m once again held in the arms I hope to be held in for the rest of my life, however long that might be.

“Darlin’,” he starts. Just the sound of that one word, his drawn out enunciation dregs the fear up from the bottom most place in my soul.

He has the look of a man about to spill something so vile he fears I may never completely recover. I get all that from a look.

“Darlin’,” he says again. “They determined the heart’s human.”

I suck in a sharp breath knowing he hadn’t hit me with the worst yet.

Oh, how I wish I’d been wrong.

“They identified the owner of the heart. Baby girl, her friends hadn’t heard from her and got nervous. Called Tommy to knock on her door, check things out.”

“Who?” I ask, but he keeps on talking as if I hadn’t asked my question.

“Apparently Shayla had been killed first. He sent them out of order for some reason. We’re still lookin’ into it. They found her danglin’ upside down from her feet inside a Plexiglas tank filled with water.”

A tank?

“Who?” I practically shriek.

“Hadley.”

My breath leaves in a gush as my knees buckle beneath me. Luckily Beau has a firm hold, keeping me upright. My ears know what they just heard. My ears know, yet the rest of me vehemently rejects the knowledge.

“Wa—was there a note? There was a note, right? From Houdini?” I ask, my body shaking even as I try to control the shakes. “I did an essay on him, the magician, my junior year of high school.” Then I swallow hard. “Mrs. Gentry’s class. You remember her?” Though, I keep rambling, not giving him a chance to answer. “Houdini—he had a famous escape, the China Box escape, or something like that. Sounds like what you described.”

He nods his affirmative.

“But darlin’, I swear I never had relations with her.”

“No, you wouldn’t have to. If—damn my head hurts—if,” I clear my throat instead of swallowing again, and pinch the bridge of my nose. “If Shayla was… if she, um, died first then it’s not about you or only you. My dad got with Hadley and didn’t have time for me anymore. So maybe the love he gave her came as sloppy seconds? Or maybe, I mean everyone knew how hard his death was on me. Maybe my love for him was sloppy seconds?” As those last words leave my mouth, a horrible thought hits me. “Logan, he didn’t have a fling with Hadley before my dad, did he? I mean, we all know he wasn’t faithful to me. You think that’s why she wouldn’t let my dad see me? Guilt?”

“Don’t know, but we’ll be lookin’ into it. Damn shit that bastard’s causin’ us still, he didn’t appreciate how good he had it.”

As I open my mouth to respond, Liv cuts through our semi-private conversation. “Do, uh, do you really think this Houdini guy is going after Logan Hollister flings?”

“It has to be more than that,” Beau answers her truthfully.

It hits me. Right here, right now I know his play. “Club connection,” I tell them.

“Pardon?” he asks.

And Liv says, “What?”

“I haven’t figured out the why of why Logan’s been involved. But if we can prove Hadley had a fling with Lo, then he’s going after club connections that had relations with Logan. He’s hitting the Lords by hitting those connections.”

“So the bastard has to be someone who knew Logan when we were younger.” Beau deduces for us.

“Seems that way.” Crass who’d been totally quiet up ‘til now finally chimes in. Arms folded over his massive chest, he looks contemplative, and I know he’s not just been paying attention but formulating. “Also seems like we need to find out about anyone else who might have jumped your boy’s bones with a tie to the club. You and your woman, Boss. Doc and his woman. The first chick fucked someone in the club, I’m guessing?”

Beau’s firm-lipped glare gives enough confirmation for Crass to continue. “Shit, there a way to figure out who all he fucked? Think it was just those two or you think he was a stupid prick for going out on that beautiful lady of yours?”

“He was a stupid prick for doin’ it just once, but I got a bad feelin’ about this.”

As Beau talks, I take notice of Liv becoming very agitated. Very agitated, opening and closing her hands into fists at her sides, scrunching up her lips, nose and brow. She catches me watching and stops. Fisting one of her hands to bring it up, she chews on her thumbnail. “You really think he’s targeting women who slept with Logan Hollister?”

“Yeah, why?” I ask.

“I had a one night stand with Logan Hollister,” Liv blurts out to all our dumbstruck faces. Me personally, my mouth hangs open from the gut-punch of betrayal. “Swear I didn’t know he had a girlfriend,” she rushes on, so I must be wearing every emotion I feel, and not slightly. “We met at a game senior year. Sat next to each other at Wrigley. I was in a vulnerable place, and he offered to make me feel less vulnerable for a time. He was charming and handsome, so yeah, shit… I took him up on his offer. Please don’t be mad at me, Elise.”

No. This can’t be blamed on anyone but Logan. And so I attempt to pull myself together. “It didn’t seem he was in the habit of telling women that, that he had a girlfriend.” I laugh humorlessly.

“I know it was him because my brother had been down on club business with our father, your whole town was freaking out about his death. He sent me a picture with a caption that said something like, ‘Didn’t this guy sit by us at the game?’”

“Shit,” Beau grumbles. “Crass.”

Crass nods his head. “With my life. Word.”

Whatever the unspoken promise that’s passed between the two men, I can’t think about because Liv, my friend, continues to chew on her thumbnail, which has me worried.

“Livvy, is there something else?”

She ignores my question, turning her gaze to Beau. “Don’t tell Chaos,” she whispers.

Chaos? I thought Blood?

“Can’t keep shit from my brothers, Liv. And I wouldn’t keep it even if I could.”

She doesn’t respond with anything save slumped shoulders and such a defeated face you’d swear Beau had walked up and popped her shiny red balloon with a pin just to watch her cry. One thing I’ve come to learn about my man, he has a reason behind everything he does, which means Chaos needs to know. Whether she likes it or not. And by the looks of her, she does not.