CHAPTER NINETEEN
Brick
The general atmosphere inside the conference room is tight-lipped, my new brothers shooting me the occasional look. I feel like screaming what the fuck and shaking them awake. Everything that happened to Starlet goes against what the Iron Norsemen stand for. We’re outlaws, not monsters. Her testimony should have won them over, instead, it confused the shit out of them. Why?
If I could resurrect Starlet’s old man, I’d blow his brains out. “She’s a victim and deserves our protection.” What else can I say? I’m on probation for six months. At this rate, I’m going to tell Eagle to take the VP offer and shove it up his ass. I don’t like what I’m seeing and hearing here.
“Maybe she has a big fucking mouth and her old man punished her accordingly,” Axe says. “Wouldn’t be the first time an old lady needed an attitude adjustment.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d take him seriously. But I’ve seen the way he treats his teenage daughter and ex old lady who hangs out at the clubhouse all the time. Still doesn’t mean I don’t want to feed him a fist. “Don’t…” I growl, turning to face him. “Don’t make this personal.” It already is though.
Axe points at me. “Shouldn’t have tapped that sweet ass so many times—belongs to someone else.”
I try to ignore him, but the building pressure is too much. I scramble over the polished wood table top and tackle Axe out of his chair. We hit the floor hard, but I’m on top, giving me the advantage. I land a solid blow on his left cheek, then raise my fist to strike him again. Someone grips my wrist and holds on tight.
“You made your point,” Shorty says. “The only one who needs an attitude adjustment is Axe, not that little lady.”
So, I have Shorty’s support? Good.
“Get off me.” Axe protests underneath me.
I laugh and slide off him, admiring the red mark I left on his face like a badge of shame.
“I’ve had enough of this bullshit,” Eagle roars. “Axe, accept the fact that it wasn’t your time for advancement. Brick…”
I meet his intense gaze.
“Every time someone says something to piss you off, are you gonna hit them?”
I grit my teeth. “Maybe.”
A couple brothers chuckle. But I know Eagle isn’t entertained in the slightest or pleased with my performance so far.
“Back to your seats,” Eagle says. “We have the hard facts on Starlet. It’s up to each of you to choose what to do. Do we offer protection or send her home?”
Instead of sitting, I elect to stand at the table, still hungry for a piece of Axe. Motherfucker can’t keep pushing me or I’ll hurt him. Nothing lasts, I remind myself. Not this charter, not your feelings for Starlet, and not this life. Only the patch. Only the idea behind it. Brotherhood has its benefits, but the open road is the real shit. That’s what I live for.
“All in favor of offering Starlet protection?” Eagle prompts.
“Aye,” I say loud.
“That’s nine ayes.” Eagle looks at me. “Sorry, Brick. We need a unanimous vote.”
“Christ.” All I see is red and turn on the wall behind me, driving my fist into the plaster and leaving a gaping hole. There’s blood on my knuckles but I don’t care. I take one look at my prez and shake my head. “Guess I should tell her the news.”
“Do you want to make the call to Silver Donovan, or should I?”
Does Eagle really trust me enough to call the president of the Devil’s Crusaders, the man Starlet is expected to marry? I flex my hand at my side, considering it. “I’ll make the call. Give me tonight with her.”
“Take what time you need, brother.”
The room empties quickly, but Shorty stays behind. “Wish it turned out differently,” he offers. “She’s worth the trouble.”
“Thanks.” We fist bump, and for the first time since I’ve been here, I realize Shorty is a true ally. Most of the brothers are, but there’s inside politics that divide even the closest charter.
“Here.” He offers me a set of keys. “I have a cabin three miles down the road. Nothing pretty, but it’s clean and quiet. Take your girl there, say goodbye the right way.”
I study his features for a long moment. “Why are you doing this?”
“Lost my old lady to cancer a few years ago. Starlet reminds me of her.”
“I’m sorry. What was her name?”
Pain is evident in his eyes. “Izzy, a red head.”
What do you say to a man who lost everything he loved? I accept the keys and he gives me quick directions. “Thanks.”
“I’ll set Axe straight, Brick. This charter needs new blood—and if my instincts are worth a damn, you’re the right man to wear that VP patch.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I’ve seen enough. The man doesn’t make the patch, the patch makes the man. Earning it says everything I need to know.”
That isn’t entirely true—to younger members, the man makes the patch. But as long as veterans like Shorty are still around, old school rules.
* * *
Starlet
The brothers didn’t even look at me when they came out of the conference room. I eye the double doors nervously, wondering if I’m about to get good news or bad news. I shrug and take another shot, enjoying the growing numbness. Guess I can handle Jägermeister, the bottle is almost empty and I’m still upright on the bar stool.
Finally, Brick appears, his expression annoyingly neutral.
“You okay?” he asks.
I raise my shot glass. “Better now.”
“Ah, hell.” He picks up the bottle and examines it. “Can you stand on your own, Starlet?”
“Sure can.” I hop off the seat and the room starts to spin. “Um…”
He shakes his head and wraps a steadying arm around my waist. “Think you can ride?”
Though I’m a little dizzy, pretty sure I can hang on to Brick without falling off his bike. “Where are we going?”
“To a cabin down the road. Where’s your backpack, sweetheart?”
“Over there.” I point to a cubby in the dining area.
Once we’re outside, he secures my bag to the side of his bike, then straps the helmet on my head.
“I’m a big girl, you know. Could probably have done that myself.” I look up at him, meeting his gaze, loving and envying his thick, dark lashes. “You have beautiful eyes, Brick.”
He chuckles as I stand on my toes and plant a kiss on his mouth.
“What’s that for?”
“For being my friend.”
“Where did you get that idea? I’m not your friend, Starlet.”
I frown and retreat a step. “Glad you cleared that up, asshole.”
“There’s no man in his right mind who could be your friend.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Friends with benefits.”
He tips my chin upward. “Lovers. There’s a big difference.”
I don’t know what to do with myself, he’s right. I’ve never had male friends. I wasn’t allowed to hang out with boys growing up. The only men I’ve ever been close to are brothers. What a crazy life I’ve had.
I couldn’t even handle a couple weeks of freedom. I ran straight into the arms of another biker. “You’re right.” I struggle to free myself from the alcohol fog in my brain. “We were lovers, but decided to break things off before we came here.”
“No.” His voice is hoarse. “You decided.” I gasp when he scoops me up and gently places me on the bike. “Be a good girl, Starlet. Hold on tight—it’s a short ride to the cabin.”
Of course, I don’t heed his warning. As soon as we hit the highway and he opens up that throttle, the wind whipping my hair, I let go of him and lift my arms above my head, squealing like a little girl. I took my first ride when I was three-years-old, wedged between my father and the gas tank on his classic Softail. I showed no fear. A natural my father called me. Is that why it feels so right? Am I truly a natural or is it because I’m on Brick’s bike?
He looks over his shoulder at me. “Stop playing around, Starlet. Hold on.”
I shake my head. “Make me.”
He signals to turn and races down a paved driveway lined with trees and bushes. A small cabin with a metal roof comes into sight and I giggle. Not sure why it’s funny, but it is. This place, my life, everything is like a fucking cartoon. Except for Brick, he’s more real than anyone I’ve ever known.
He parks on a gravel pad beside the cabin and then climbs off his bike, ogling me. “What’d you say back there?” He’s trying to be a badass.
“Did I stutter, biker boy?” Somehow, I manage to swing my leg over the seat, grab my bag, and stand up, though I stumble a little. “Make me.”
He sighs, obviously frustrated. “Do you know how hard you’re making it…”
Without thinking, I reach between his legs and cradle his enormous erection. “It’s hard, all right.”
“Starlet…” I’m immediately flung over his shoulder and carried up three steps. He digs in his front pants pocket, produces a key, and unlocks the door. “Done playing games?”
“What’s wrong, Brick?”
He spanks my ass hard and then sets me on my feet. “Taking advantage of a drunk woman isn’t my thing.”
“Okay, Saint Brick.” He didn’t have a problem getting me buzzed and fucking me the night we met. Why would it be any different now? Besides, I’m not really drunk, just feeling good. Hot and bothered to be exact.
In need of a diversion, I take a quick peak around the one-room cabin. It’s rustic and completely male. There’s a sofa, weathered recliner, coffee table, and wood burning stove on one side, and a kitchenette on the other. A framed picture of an older man and red-headed woman is hanging on the wall. I immediately recognize the guy from the clubhouse, sat a few chairs away from him at dinner.
“What’s his name?” I indicate the portrait.
“Shorty.”
“Why are we here?” I ask.
“Privacy.”
I think Brick forgot his good mood at the clubhouse, but I won’t let it ruin the moment. His frown and one-word answers don’t deter me. I sneak up behind him and lock my hands over his stomach, appreciating the feel of his eight-pack underneath. “Privacy is a good thing, right?”
He turns in my arms. “Starlet.”
I shush him, holding my finger up to his lips. “Don’t tell me anything right now. I want you to fuck me.”
He steps back and stares at me, like he’s thinking about it. Really? “Do you need an engraved invitation?”
In response, he growls and drops to his knees in front of me, lifts my skirt above my hips, and shoves my lace panties aside. I love it rough with him, though I’m not sure why. Maybe the intensity in his eyes, or maybe it’s my way of getting all of him. Brick doesn’t do tender. I curl my fingers in his hair and encourage him to bury his face between my legs. The moment his tongue makes contact with my clit, I lose it and scream his name. The consequences of total submission to Brick means one thing—more.
He cups my ass with one hand, locking me against his face. I throw my head back as he sinks his thumb inside my pussy, sucking and licking me so hard. My legs are like jelly, but I don’t care. I need to feel alive, want to forget who I am. Pretty sure I know what went down in that conference room. If this is my last night with Brick, I’m going to make it count. His memory will have to get me through a lifetime of misery.