Nicky
Heading south again didn’t sit well, but I needed to get my stuff out of the club. Needed to cut ties and try like fuck to move on. The apartment I’d found wouldn’t be available for a little over two weeks, and even though Suzie didn’t scream at me through her door anymore, I hadn’t been able to get her to open the damn thing. Staying with her wasn’t an option.
I’d had to sign out of the B&B before heading back to the club since Greta had booked the room I’d been using, so I had no fucking clue where I’d be crashing until my apartment opened up. Camping out under the stars was fine by me—God knows I’d done it countless times while out touring with my brothers.
Jonny had told me I could keep my stuff in the club for as long as I needed, but I swore spiders crawled down my shirt at the thought of going back to that place. Didn’t have a choice, though. I’d found a place—my new town—and I was anxious to get my shit and start the last leg of my life.
The sun shone down on me as I pulled into the club’s near-empty lot. I cut the engine and stretched my neck and shoulders, talking the imaginary eight-legged fuckers off my skin.
A deep breath, and I strode toward the entrance and pulled open the door. The scent of tobacco, booze, and sex swept over me along with the eighties music Jonny was too damn fond of.
Hawk lounged on a chair nearby, bottle of beer in one hand, a toothpick between his teeth. His eyes lit up. “Knew you’d be back here, you old fuck.”
“Only here to grab my shit.”
“Goddamn.” He stood and grabbed me in half a hug, and although I wanted to hate everything about my previous life, I couldn’t push one of my best friends away. Too much history. Too much of a bond. “I shouldn’t let you in here without your colors, but I don’t give a fuck,” he said with one last thump on my back and stepping away. “Good to see you back, Nicky.”
I nodded, hunched my shoulders, and made my way through the bar area, ignoring the skanks I used to take pleasure in. Not one of them could outshine Mel and her vibrant rays of sun.
Body tense, I knocked on the office door.
“What?” Jonny hollered.
I knew the tone all too well. He had a woman on her knees, sucking him off—or trying to, rather.
“Come on out when you’re done!” I turned, but Jonny’s curse cut through the overhead music.
“Nicky! Get the fuck in here!”
I hesitated a few seconds, hand on the knob, giving whatever whore tried to please him time to pack her shit—and his—away.
“Now!”
Bossy fucker. I pushed in the door and stepped to the side, letting the blonde with the mascara streaks down her cheeks hurry around me.
Jonny sat back in his chair, yanking up his zipper, his dark-eyed gaze glued to my face. “Fucking waste.”
“Wasn’t working for you?”
“Nothing fucking works for me these days.” He pointed at the chair across from him and adjusted himself through his leathers. “Fuck. We need some new blood in the club, someone who knows how to swallow a cock without gagging.”
I nodded, although I couldn’t find a single fuck to give.
Jonny peered at me over the desk, his brow furrowed and eyes troubled. “You here to stay?”
“No.”
“God damn this shit to hell.” He tossed aside some papers and leaned forward, elbows on the old desk his father used to sit behind. “You and Hawk are the only two brothers I trust my life with.”
I didn’t bother correcting him that I wasn’t his brother anymore—just waited for him to continue.
Lips pursed, he shook his head. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but there’s trouble. Lots of fucking whispering. A handful of the younger brothers took off, leaving their colors behind yesterday.” His voice lowered. “The thought they might have followed you off to start another club crossed my mind.”
“I’m too fucking old, too fucking done.” I gripped the arms of my chair as a frown dented my brow. “You know better than to entertain such a—”
“I didn’t give it a second thought.” Jonny sat back and heaved a breath.
“I served under you the last ten years, and your father for twenty before that.”
“You’re loyal.” He nodded, still peering intently at my face.
“Was.”
Jonny tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. “Meaning?”
“Meaning that I’m done here, just like I told you a few days ago when I handed in my colors.” I forced my grip to relax but didn’t break eye contact. “I’m loyal in that I won’t rat out or give up any shit to the law if that’s what you’re thinking.”
He slowly nodded and slumped back in his chair. “I need a fucking vacation.” Pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, he tipped his head back. “This fucking place… Goddammit.”
I opened my mouth, ready to tell him about the perfect hole-in-the-wall bar up Route 16, but clamped my lips shut. Leaving the brotherhood meant leaving my friends behind. Moving on. While I wanted to give a fuck about Jonny, Hawk, and the handful of others I’d considered friends, I told myself I couldn’t do it.
Fucking sucked, but Suzaroo needed me—even if she didn’t want me.
I stood, and Jonny tipped his head down, the resignation in his eyes like a knife to my gut. “Need help packing up your stuff?” he asked, his voice void of emotion.
“Don’t have a lot.” Didn’t have jack shit beyond my clothes and a few odds and ends from over the years. Trinkets from here and there littered my apartment on the club’s second floor, worthless shit since the Gliders lay in my past.
Jonny nodded, seeming to deflate even further into his chair while pulling open the top desk drawer. My keys clinked as he tossed them to me.
I caught them and dropped my hand to my side. “Thanks for letting me keep my truck out back.”
“Anything you need,” he said, standing and moving around his desk. “Anytime you need it.”
My throat tightened, and I dipped my head. “Appreciate it.”
“Come on.” Jonny clasped my shoulder and turned me toward the door. “The least I can do is carry a bin or two. Stick around for a drink after?”
Hawk grinned at me and tipped his beer my way as Jonny and I walked out of the office.
My mouth watered for a shot or two. I nodded. “One last drink.”
****
Done, I told myself an hour later as I pulled out of the club’s parking lot, never to return. Hands washed of that life and everything associated with it—except for my Harley on the trailer behind me. Wouldn’t ever give her up.
More than anything, I wanted to head north, settle on my new bar stool and drink in the sight of Mel and her bright smile. Her twinkling eyes. The curves of her ass I wanted to sink my cock into.
Too damn young rang in my head more times than I could count, but every time my head whispered the words, they held less meaning. Who gave a fuck if she was easily twenty years my junior? Her body language told me she wanted me. I wanted her with a need that bordered on obsession. Just the thought of her hardened my cock, something that happened on an hourly basis, same as when I’d been a young, clueless fuck of sixteen.
I crashed at a motel a few miles away and took the next couple of days to put the rest of my shit in order, antsy as hell to get back to Mel. Cashed out some investments I didn’t want to be associated with anymore. Closed out two of my three bank accounts. Spent a few hours in the pawn shop unloading things I didn’t have need of anymore.
Sunday night found me pulling my truck and trailer into Mel’s. I’d jerked off countless times to thoughts of her ass, but the release my hand gave didn’t offer what I wanted.
Light rain fell, coating my hair before I made it through her door.
Like a magnetic pull, my attention went directly to her, and she turned. Her cheeks flushed and lips parted with a wide smile, and an ache zinged through my chest.
Fucking ray of sunshine.
The bar was packed, but I was able to snag a stool near the one I’d claimed the week before.
“Nicky,” Mel greeted me over the blasting country music, her voice breathy and lust-filled.
My cock swelled, and I bit back a groan. “Mel.”
“Whiskey?”
“The good stuff.” I ran a hand through my wet hair while she grabbed a bottle and shot glass. “Thanks,” I said as she poured.
“Good to see you back here.”
“Is it?”
My question tipped her head up, and her smile faded. “Yes.”
“Mel!” someone called, but it took her a few seconds to turn away, breaking the crackling need to fuck between us.
I downed a couple of shots, ignoring the people around me, focusing on Mel as she worked the bar and the people paying her bills. She had a gift for listening, drawing out people’s stories without seeming to pry.
I’d never been so damn comfortable—except for my throbbing cock—in years. Even the club back in the day hadn’t afforded me the level of contentment Mel’s place did. Glancing around, I decided the stool I claimed again two hours later would be my seat until I breathed my last breath.
Good old Sheriff Elliott climbed off his stool at the other end when the one beside me opened up.
I kept my attention on my shot glass as he took a seat too close for my liking.
“Been meaning to welcome you to our town, Mr. Landon,” he said, his tone decent enough but stern as he held out his hand.
Shaking his hand, I nodded, noting the caution in his dark eyes. “Thought you’d come see me sooner or later.”
He released his grip. “Sorry about your sister.”
Lips pursed, I nodded again and picked up my glass, my gaze flitting to Mel. Concern etched her brow.
“We have a major epidemic in this state,” the sheriff said while I swallowed the whiskey.
I kept my mouth shut and poured another shot.
“Mel tells me you handed in your colors, Mr. Landon,” Sheriff Elliott continued when I didn’t comment.
My gaze trailed after her as she turned away from us to pour another beer for someone a few feet away. “I did.”
“Reforming your ways?”
I shrugged. “Not looking for any trouble, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Sheriff Elliott turned on his stool to face me. “I’m more interested in whether you’d consider being a bad boy turned good.”
Brows lifted, I peered at him. “What exactly are you getting at, Sheriff?”
“I could use some help.”
“With?”
“Any information you can toss my way that could help us clean up our state.”
I tipped my head back, downing my drink. “Can’t say I remember too much from my days before arriving here.” The heat of his stare licked at my face, but I ignored him, still absorbed by Mel and every move she made.
She tossed a flirty smile my way, stirring my cock back to life.
“Well.” Sheriff Elliott emptied his beer and threw a twenty onto the bar while standing. “If you decide you’d like to do your part in helping people like your sister, stop by the station.”
His words knifed my gut, and I offered one last nod of feigned indifference. “Nice talking to you, Sheriff.”
He left without another word, and I forced my thoughts back to the ass of the bartender and how much I wanted to bury myself balls deep in every hole of her lush body.
Slowly, the place emptied to what appeared to be the regulars, lingering over their drinks and shooting the shit.
“What’d Sheriff Elliott want?” Mel asked after finally making her way back to me.
“Just making sure I’m not going to start any trouble in his town.”
“Trouble, huh?” She bit her lip against a growing smirk and glanced at the door. “I didn’t hear your bike pull up.”
I leaned forward onto the bar, fighting the urge to drop my gaze to her pert rack and the nipples that pebbled anytime she came near me. “That’s because it’s on a trailer behind my truck along with a couple of plastic bins.”
“Better bins than boxes,” she said, pointing toward the windows.
Rain fell, and I realized my chances of sleeping under the stars were shot to shit.
“Heading back to Greta’s?” she asked while picking up a rag to wipe down the bar beside me.
“She’s booked this whole week, which really fucks me up.”
“Why’s that?”
“Suzie still isn’t talking to me, and I’ve got no place to crash until my apartment here in town opens up.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Any other place you know around here? Something off the beaten path?”
“Grandpop kept a cot in the back storeroom. Isn’t much,” she smiled, twisting that ache in my chest again, “but you’re welcome to it for the night.”
“You mean that even knowing what I am?” I asked, one of my brows raised.
“I know what you were.” Her smile made the room a little brighter, and she sauntered away, her tight jeans hugging curves that ought to be illegal. Small waist, round ass, and thick as honey thighs my fingers itched to dig into.
I tore my attention from her, cleared my throat, and downed my shot of whiskey. What woman would offer a complete stranger—especially one looking like me—a place to crash? In her storeroom, too? Didn’t she notice my love of whiskey? Had she even considered I could rob her blind? Get my hands on her the second the last patron left for the night whether she wanted it or not and fuck her senseless until the sun rose?
A bubbly, seemingly genuinely happy young woman, one who clearly wanted me if the pulse in her neck and poking nipples spoke the truth. Throw the dilated pupils into the mix, and I was ready to bet all the cash in my bank account she’d be up for me bending her over the bar and fucking her tight little pussy. Or ass.
Cock hard and pressing against the confines of the damn leathers I wore, I’d take either. Both. Whatever she wanted, however she wanted it.
Back in the day, she would have been my type. Smiley and sweet, not a drug abusing whore like the rest of the women who hung out at our club. A breath of fresh air, Mel shone like a spotlight in the darkness of my mind, and fuck did I want her.
My cell chimed with an incoming text. I pulled the phone from my jacket.
Jonny: Wish you hadn’t left. Miss you brother.
I tapped out my reply. Sorry to leave you and Hawk behind, but it’s time I moved on
Without waiting for his reply, I shut off my cell and tucked it back into the inner pocket of my jacket. I’d told him I was done with a life of distributing drugs that killed. I was done protecting those who delivered, done taking the lives of those who threatened the brotherhood’s lucrative business.
I’d been paid, and paid well. I had enough stashed away to last me until a revenge bullet found my brain, or I keeled over an old man. The morbid thoughts lay like a dead weight on my mind. I hoped for the latter, knowing helping Sheriff Elliott in any way would probably lead to a bullet between my eyes. For Ellen, my conscience whispered.
“Fuck that,” I muttered while pouring another shot.
My attention strayed to the bar’s ray of light. A good hard fuck to take away the dreariness sounded a million times better.