CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Brick
Six o’clock the next evening, I wait on my bike while Starlet finishes getting ready inside her house. Nothing happened overnight, I woke up several times and checked on her—even kissed her forehead without disturbing her. The woman looks completely edible when she sleeps. I had to talk myself out of crawling into bed with her several times. Not an easy thing when you get a hard on just thinking about a girl.
The thought makes me smile. As I look up from the ground, she’s in the process of locking her door. When she turns around, my cock stands at full attention. She’s wearing a short black skirt, a leather halter top, and pink and black cowboy boots. The damn skirt looks spray painted on—highlighting her hour glass figure. Dark sunglasses hide her green eyes, but I know she likes when I stare. Starlet was made for sex, put together like a fucking Valkyrie—that natural red hair a crown of glory. I like curling my fingers in it and pulling her head back so I can pillage her slim neck and shoulders.
“Is everything okay?” she asks as she approaches my bike, offering her backpack to me.
“Perfect,” I say, licking my lips. “Get on, sweetheart.”
I take her bag and give her the helmet. Once she straps it on, she slips her backpack over her shoulder, and then climbs behind me, instinctively locking her arms around my waist. Unbeknownst to her, she’s the only woman to ever sit behind me on this bike. If that doesn’t say something…
I take the exit before the private driveway to the compound and park at the trailhead to a hiking path that leads to the Red River. Starlet hops off.
“This isn’t the clubhouse.”
“No,” I agree while I unbuckle the chin strap on her helmet. “Thought you could use a minute before you meet everyone.”
“That’s very considerate. I’m definitely nervous. I feel like my life is about to begin or end depending on what Eagle decides.”
I hang the helmet off one of my hand grips and then face Starlet. “Eagle doesn’t have the final say. This will get a club vote, sweetheart.”
She swallows. “The air is so much fresher out here, don’t you think? All the greenery and the river makes it an ideal place to live.”
She’s babbling, so I know she’s afraid. That’s my fault. I put the integrity of the club first, as I should. But that doesn’t mean I can’t feel sympathy for Starlet. From what I can tell, she’s a good girl. I watch as she starts to follow the trail to the water. Being a woman in this world is hard enough, but being an old lady, that shit is serious. Though the Iron Norsemen treat females better than most MCs, they have no rights. I’ve seen too many old ladies make themselves small so there’d be no retaliation if they caused problems.
One of Starlet’s most attractive qualities is her independent spirit—she’s a certifiable rebel. I’d have to kill any motherfucker who tried to break her.
I walk lazily behind her, until she stops beside the rocky shoreline, wedged between a couple trees. The river narrows in this area, providing a great place to fish.
“You’re lucky,” she says.
“How so?”
“You live out here.”
“Why’d you choose the city, then? From what I hear, rent is fairly cheap around here, better than Shreveport.”
She clicks her tongue. “Nowhere in Louisiana is cheap, Brick. Not after Katrina devastated the state. Beyond that, Juanita is my only friend on the outside. She offered me a job and a place to live.”
“Do you have any money, Starlet?”
She twirls around. “That’s a very personal question.”
“Everything about us is personal.”
“Not anymore.”
I step closer, surprised by her words. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t make me explain what you already know, Brick. We were doomed the night we met. I didn’t care up until this point, I wanted you.”
“You still do.”
She averts her eyes. “That doesn’t matter. You reported me to your prez, which puts me in a precarious position if we’re still involved. Hell, it puts you in an awkward position, too.”
“Don’t,” I warn. “You don’t get to speak for me, Starlet. And this isn’t over yet…” We still have some time left together. She gazes up at me, and I pull her sunglasses off so I can see her eyes clearly. I tuck them in my vest pocket. “Never hide your eyes from me.”
She makes a choking sound. “Y-you can’t keep doing this, it’s not fair.”
I cup the back of her neck and tug her close, resting my forehead against hers. “You of all people should know life isn’t fair. I did what I had to do.”
“You could have just walked away the night we ran into each other in Shreveport. Why’d you chase me, Brick? Don’t you get it? I never want to be a part of an MC again. I hated my father. I wanted to kill my husband. And I sure as hell won’t let you, Eagle, or the Iron Norsemen send me back to Alabama. The Devil’s Crusaders treat dogs better than women.” She’s shaking uncontrollably.
“Listen to me.” I grip her by the upper arms. “Have a little faith, Starlet.”
“In what? You?”
“Christ.” I let go of her and take a step back. Patience, I remind myself. The one thing I lack the most—another reason I wear the nomad patch. I don’t like complications. And Starlet Vega is a beautiful complication. “If not me, then Eagle.”
She snags a flat rock off the ground and throws it, it skips twice and then sinks in the water. “I don’t even know him.”
“You will.”
“That’s my misfortune, isn’t it?”
I sigh, through trying to convince her I have her back. Instead, I take her by the elbow and usher her up the pathway, back to my bike. “We’re going to be late for dinner.”
She doesn’t say anything, but does put the helmet back on. We reach the compound five minutes later. Black Sabbath is playing on the outdoor stereo system, and Shorty is manning the grill. There’s old ladies and kids running around, and Eagle is sitting on the porch with a beer in his hand, his wife on his lap.
I wasn’t expecting a gathering like this.
“W-what is this?” Starlet asks.
“Fuck if I know.” I’m just as surprised as she is. And I’m definitely not in the mood to socialize. “Just smile and act like everything is okay. The old ladies don’t need to know why you’re really here.” We walk to the porch and I wait for my prez to acknowledge me.
“This must be, Starlet,” Angel, Eagle’s old lady, says as she stands up. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
I throw Eagle a what-the-fuck look and he shrugs. “Blame it on the nice weather.”
“Let’s get this over with,” I say, opening the front door and stepping inside, in need of a shot of whiskey.
Starlet doesn’t follow me, so I walk to the bar and grab a bottle of Jack Daniels off the shelf.
“Is that the girl?” Shorty asks as he walks up to me.
I take a long sip from the bottle, not giving a shit if anyone else wants some whiskey. I set the bottle aside and jamb my thumbs into the front pockets of my jeans. “Christ, Shorty.” Why does he keep hounding me? Asking stupid questions? “Did you see us drive up together?”
“Yeah,” the old man says.
“Guess you know the answer then.”
He shakes his head. “Just because you wear that goddamned patch doesn’t mean you have to hate the world.” He pokes me in the chest with his index finger. “I backed you as the vice from the moment I read your profile and saw your picture. There’s hunger in your eyes—reminds me of myself when I was your age. But if you keep rattling everyone’s chains, you’ll never get a chance to achieve your full potential in this chapter, any, really.”
It’s a long climb to the top of any club, and an even harder fall. Maybe that’s why I like staying where I am. “I’m not here to make friends.”
“Maybe not,” he says. “But you’re about as methodical as one of those fancy computers you work on. It won’t work here, Brick. Sooner or later, a brother needs a place to call home.”
Those words are eerily familiar. If I were a normal man—even a regular brother, I’d embrace the chance of staying in one place. But I’m not. I gaze out the screened door where Starlet is still chatting with Angel. Eagle has it all. Even Shorty does. But I’m my own enemy within. Whenever I get too close to someone, I self-sabotage, putting as much distance between me and whoever threatens my life plan.
“This isn’t Philly,” he adds.
“No.” I stare at him. “It’s not.”
“Then quit acting like it is and do the right thing.”
Why is he making such an effort to reform me? “Thanks for the wisdom, old man.”
He nods, slaps me on the back, and walks away.
Louisiana isn’t anything like what I thought it would be. There’s a deep connection between the members of this charter—different than any other club I’ve visited. And I’m not sure I can handle it, even if I wanted to. I take another swig of whiskey, mentally preparing for what’s coming after dinner. Starlet doesn’t have a chance in hell—the brothers are going to send her back to Alabama.
A number of outcomes play out in my head. Defying the club and making a run for it with Starlet. Or just killing every motherfucker that poses a threat. Or turning my back completely and letting the Crusaders deal with her like the law says they can. No matter what, someone is going to get hurt. And because of it, not sure which way any of this is going to go yet.
I take another deep drink, hoping to achieve complete numbness, the only temporary relief I’m likely to find.