Almost an hour had passed in the car with him and I was having a quiet but kind of intense internal freak-out.

A woman had died because of that video. Died. Brutally, by the sounds of it. Shit was real. Way too real.

A woman in a relationship with one of the guys (I didn’t know which guy, the long-haired guy or the guy with the faux hawk) was dead. Scooter had been raped and beaten. And Scooter was a guy! This shit was real. And it was swirling around me.

Ella had been kidnapped and nearly raped.  Rider’s sister had landed in the hospital because of one of those guys and she could’ve died.

The only two people not affected so far were us two. Unless you counted that Rider was affected, because he was related to Jojo and in the same MC as the other three guys. And me affected by being kidnapped, but by the Doms instead of the Wyld Jackals (Thankfully). Would Rider or I get hurt before this was over? What would make the other MC call this feud off?

And I was anxious about the wedding, too. That bride, Kendra, was going to go ape-shit if her hairdresser didn’t show up. She had a complicated up-do. And she wasn’t a bridezilla, per se, but she was picky. As she should be. It was her wedding day! When my time came, if it ever did, I’d be a total bridezilla.

It took me four up-dos to find one she loved and not to be a brag, but I was good at the up-do. Not all hair stylists are created equal. It was going to be the most important hair-day of her life. She did not deserve to be flaked out on. She deserved those intricate braids, those curls, the pearls and gems in her hair that made her cry and hug me when I showed her.

And no matter what emergency I had, there was no way she wasn’t going to see this as a betrayal.

She’d lose her mind if I texted her and told her I couldn’t come, sending her the pics of our practice run and telling her to give them to some other stylist. It seemed petty to think about that right now when comparing it to rape and murder, but this was that girl’s wedding day, and she didn’t know about all this other stuff. Bottom line: I didn’t want to let her down.

And would I even have a salon when all this was over? My parents could sell my salon, leaving me jobless and homeless. And that would also screw with Pippa’s livelihood. And the promises I made to Ella to help her out with hours while she was looking for another job. The cab company had cut her hours, so she was relying on me.

I felt sick to my stomach. And neither of us had spoken the entire ride so far.

We were pulling up to a large ranch-style bungalow with a triple garage in a nice neighborhood.  When we stopped in the driveway, a bleach-blonde late 40s early 50s woman wearing jeans, a pink tank top with excessive cleavage (and a black bra), and high-heeled boots (and what looked like yesterday’s make-up), was standing there and talking to Brady, her body language looking angry. She dashed for the car, dropping a leather jacket on the ground. She looked like strung-out biker broad trash.

And up close, the lines around her eyes and mouth added another ten years, ten unfriendly years. She looked like she used to be beautiful, but had maybe been through a war.

“Fuck me,” he muttered, and got out.

“My baby!” The woman threw herself at Rider before he even got his door shut. He caught and hugged her.

She looked in the car, eyeing me, critically.

I tried to give her a smile. It didn’t change the look on her face.

And I saw that she had those same green-blue eyes as him. She was probably very beautiful back in her day, and could’ve still been beautiful. But, she looked like she’d been dragged through hell by heroin or something.

And at the way she looked at me, I knew he was right. She was also a c-word. I guess we’d see if she was as much of one as my mother.

He waved me out.

“C’mon, gorgeous. Inside quick.”

“Who’s this?” his mother asked, halting him.

“Inside. We’re exposed out here.” He was texting, corralling me.

“Hey Jenna,” Brady said and crowded me, motioning toward the door.

“What’re ya doin, Ride?” she asked.

”Inside. Now,” he ordered.

She rolled her eyes and we followed her into the house.

I felt shabby. The too-big sweatpants. No make-up on, my hair in a haphazard ponytail that I’d thrown it into on the drive here. Not even wearing a bra or underwear. Old scuffed Converse on my feet. This usually wouldn’t be the time to meet the Mom (if we were in a relationship).

He put his hand to the small of my back and moved us inside swiftly. Brady stayed outside.

A gorgeous girl was in the front foyer. I mean gorgeous. I recognized her from the framed photos back at the cabin, but she was even more gorgeous in person. She had the features and figure of Adriana Lima, the Victoria’s Secret angel.  She, too, had Rider’s and his mother’s eyes, but long dark gorgeous spiral-curly hair.

Her wrist was in a cast and she was in light and loose cotton pajamas. She was wearing bunny slippers. But, it couldn’t be mistaken. Her killer curves could be in a burlap sack and she’d still be scouted to become a lingerie runway model.

“Joelle, Mom, this is Jenna.”

Joelle’s eyes lit up and she came to me and hugged me.

“Hey! Call me Jojo.” she took me in from head to toe. I felt self-conscious. She didn’t look judgy, though.

“Mom’s Michelle. Everyone calls her Shelly,” Rider added.

I looked to Rider’s mother and she was assessing me, too, only she was looking at me like I was something she scraped off her stiletto boot.

“Forgive my clothes,” I said. “We stayed at the cabin unexpectedly and I had nothing with me. And we rushed this morning after the bad news, so I couldn’t even get a shower.”

“What bad news?” Shelly looked to her son and demanded.

Jojo piped up. “Don’t even worry about it. I can lend you something. You can take a shower if you want. But weird, I have loads of clothes up there,” Jojo said. “Didn’t Ride show you to them?”

I looked at Rider. He was smirking. So was Jojo. Like they had a private joke.

“No. Where?”

“The middle bedroom. The one with the double? That’s my room. Under the bed there are two big drawer thingies that roll out. Jam- packed with cabin clothes. I go to the cabin a lot and I hate having to lug stuff back and forth, especially if I’m riding, small saddlebags on my Sportster. So, it’s stocked with bum-around clothes. Any time you’re there, help yourself. There’s a washer and dryer in the basement, too. Closet behind the bar.”

“Hm.” I shot Rider a dirty look. “Your brother neglected to tell me that.” And it would’ve been nice to be able to wash my undies. “I’m afraid there’s a lot of towel laundry from us staying a few days. And bedding. And I used your facewash and your moisturizer.” I felt guilty about how much of her moisturizer I’d used. Maybe I’d send her a new jar when all this was over.

“No worries. I’m sure I’ll be back there soon. I’ll take care of the laundry. But, anytime you’re there, help yourself to anything of mine. And, I love your hoodie. It’s way better than anything I have up there.” She winked at Rider and his smirk widened to a smile.

I found that exchange sort of odd, but I wasn’t about to ask questions or pull a tantrum here. It was just a Dominion Brotherhood hoodie and I’d bet that every woman connected with the club had one.

“You drive a motorcycle?” I asked her.

She smiled wide. “Yeah. Of course.”

I blinked. “Cool.”

 

“I’ll get Jenna set up with a shower and clothes and then we’ll grab food and head out. That okay?” she looked to her brother.

“Cool,” he said, and we we’d moved into a spacious and modern kitchen. “Pack her a week’s worth of clothes. Something for the funeral, too. But quick. Yeah? Boys’ll be here in twenty or thirty. Mom, you tell no one I’m here, got me?”

A week’s worth of clothes?

“Where are youze goin’?” Shelly inquired, arms folded over her ample fake-looking chest.

“Club business,” Rider mumbled. “Go with Joelle, baby.”

I was a bit thrown, probably why I didn’t even shoot him a dirty look for his bossiness.

I followed Joelle.

This was a nice house. It didn’t say biker, despite the fact that Rider’s mom was clearly a biker broad. It was decorated nicely. It was comfortable. Tidy. It was a family home. But, it was missing something. There weren’t any pictures on the walls and it had a bit of a haunted feeling to it. I walked away from him and heard his mother mumble, “Property? What the hell, Ride? You ‘n yer brother go there and suddenly you’ve both changed that tune?”

I didn’t know what the heck that meant. I glanced over my shoulder, feeling like there were eyes on me and there were. Rider was watching me walk away, a smile on his face, and his mother was eyeing me with irritation.

As I made my way down the hall to a wing of bedrooms, I noticed the walls were bare and it was the sort of hallway that should’ve been filled with family pictures. I’d have loved to see more family pictures. Little Deacon, little Spencer, baby Rider. I wondered if Ella had been here yet. Had she had a better experience with Rider’s mother? What did it matter, though, right? This would likely be the only time I was here or in her presence.

On closer examination, I saw picture hangers on the walls. There had been pictures, but they’d been taken down. Maybe due to the divorce. I hoped all those memories didn’t go up in flames when Deke’s Roadhouse was set on fire.

I was led into a bedroom. A total princess bedroom. All soft pastels and a huge canopy bed with massive dressing table that matched.  I looked around. She had to be a few years younger than me. But, when she opened her closet door, it rivaled even mine.

“Okay, so I can’t believe he didn’t tell me that there was a stash of girl clothes there!” I said as soon as the door clicked shut. “Or a washer. I’m goin’ commando, here!”

She let out a little bit of a giggle. “I can. He wanted you to have no choice but to wear that.”

“Wear what? No underwear?”

“The shirt.”

“This?” I pinched the hem of the sweatshirt.

She nodded.

I rolled my eyes., “Yeah, we had a whole thing about me wearing this.”

“A whole thing?” she asked.

I waved my hand dismissively.

She smiled knowingly. “He wanted you to wear it and there’s a reason for that.”

“And that is?” I asked.

“When you undress, look at the back of it.”

I went to lift it. “Shit. I’m not wearing a bra, either. We left on braless Sunday.” I shrugged. “If this was the second time we’d met, I’d whip it off without a second thought. I’ll spare you.”

“I have no idea what a braless day would be like.” She gestured to her ample bazumbas. “How is it?”

I raised a hand, understanding. Not from personal experience, of course, but from Ella’s complaints about lugging her ginormous knockers about and having to even sleep in a bra.

“Freeing. Um, what’s on it?” I asked, jerking my thumb behind me.

Jojo passed me a hand mirror from on top of her dressing table. “Look.” Her smile was big as she gestured to her mirror. I saw it in reverse.

The Dominion Brotherhood MC logo had been at the breast of the shirt on the front with a big motorcycle graphic taking up the rest. On the back, it mirrored the look of their biker vests. Only, instead of the city name, across the bottom of my shirt it said, “Property of Rider”

“Property of Rider? A rider?” I tried.

She shook her head. “The Rider. My brother. I made that shirt for all three of them. Gag gift, two Christmases ago. Him, especially, since he’s allergic to commitment. Or he has been.  I told him I wanted a sister-in-law from each of my brothers, and no bitches, either, please and thank you. Spence and Deacon have both brought girls around over the years. Bitches and non-bitches. Rider? Never. Not a one. And I knew he dated, but he never got serious enough to bring anyone home. Glad to see those days are done. That shirt has never been worn. I didn’t even know what’d happened to it. Evidently it wound up at the cabin and he was saving it for the right person.”

Wow.

That meant that every time I’d stomped away from him since the afternoon before, he saw “Property of Rider” on my back.  My face burned with embarrassment at the idea of that. And anger. What kind of a joke was that to play on me?

That closet had been jam-packed with hoodies and t-shirts, and yet he so specifically wanted me to wear this that he physically forced me to wear it. But, of course I hadn’t looked at the back of it. How many times had he sat and rubbed my back since he put it on?

Ohmigod. What?

I dropped my head and studied my feet. I wasn’t sure I wanted to think on this for too long. I had a funny feeling in my stomach. An unfamiliar and not pleasant one.

“I take it this is a surprise to you. I could tell out there that you had no idea what you were wearing.”

“It’s been a… uh… rocky few days,” I admitted, meeting her gaze.

She gave me a tight smile. “We’re all havin’ a bumpy ride right now. But, it means something that he gave that to you. Trust me.”

“Oh my God. I haven’t even said I’m sorry for what you’re going through. I’m an asshole.” I meant what I was saying, and it was helpful to be able to change topic, because I didn’t have the ability to decode the sweatshirt thing at that moment.

She shook her head, but cradled her arms around herself. “The funeral’s tomorrow. And I don’t even know how to process.”

“About that video,” I said, unable to imagine how it would’ve felt for her.

“Video?”

Damn it. I closed my eyes. “I’ve said too much. I’m out of my element here with all this.”

She huffed. “Don’t worry, I’ll make him tell me. I won’t put pressure on you. It’s not easy having three protective big brothers on top of my protective Dad. The whole club, really. It’s like I have an invisible chastity belt and forty-five big brothers.”

“I bet,” I muttered, with a wince.

“I don’t know what they’re keeping from me about Luke, but I intend to find out.” Her eyes went so sad it gripped my heart. I couldn’t imagine how she was feeling. And how she’d feel when she got the whole story.

“There’s towels in my bathroom. Wear whatever. There’s about seven new pairs of new underwear, still with tags, in the top drawer of that dresser.” She pointed. “I hit a sale just before the accident. Actually, I’ll pack them all so since we’re going on lockdown, you’ll have plenty. I’ll pack you some leggings and jeggings. I don’t think my jeans would fit you with this J.Lo butt of mine. I’ll throw a whack of clothes in bags for both of us when I find out what the fuck this video crap is.” She stomped out in her bunny slippers, slamming the door behind her.

Uh oh. F-bombs and bunny slippers.

I stood, frozen a minute. And then I lifted the hand mirror I was still holding and caught the reflection of my back again.

Property of Rider.

He very intentionally wanted me to wear it. He physically put it on me when he saw I was in Spencer’s shirt.

I blinked at my reflection some more and then quickly put the hand mirror down, deciding it was outside my capabilities to even think about the shirt.

I went to Jojo’s closet and borrowed some yoga pants and a red tank top with a built-in shelf bra (better than nothing and I certainly couldn’t borrow one of her bras unless I stuffed it with tube socks) as well as a black zip up hoodie. I grabbed a pair of black boy short undies with tags still on them, and went for a shower.

When I came out of the bathroom fresh as a daisy (she had some awesome body scrubs and top shelf shampoo), she was zipping up a black suitcase. It was beside a purple metallic suitcase.

“Black one’s yours, purple is mine. I put a few dresses in there for the funeral.”

I looked at her huge boobs. She chuckled.

“Oh yeah,” I thrust my chest out. I was taller than her and felt like Olive Oyl in contrast to her. “I’m sure all your clothes will fit.”

She laughed at me. But, it was good natured. I liked her already.

“Except bras. I dropped in a couple tanks with shelf bras. I packed you a wrap dress. It should work.”

“Thank you so much. When all this is over, I’ll mail you a gift card for the underwear, so you can buy new ones. I just left my clothes in your basket. They were all your brother’s clothes anyway. Is that okay?”

She smiled. “Sure. But, you don’t need to do a gift card. I have like four hundred pairs. I just have no impulse control when I see a sexy underwear sale.”

“I feel ya. But, I do need to pay you back.”

“Naw. It’s my pleasure. And trust me, I don’t need more reasons to shop. I could outfit us both for a month without having to do laundry.”

I chuckled.

I’d definitely be sending her a gift card. But, hopefully we could go shopping together. I could tell, already, that Jojo Valentine and I would be friends. My heart sank. No. We would’ve been if I wasn’t going to try to forget her brother existed at the first opportunity.

“Besides,” she added with a shrug, her face turning sad, “No reason for me to have new sexy panties right now anyway.”

Ouch.

“What’d Rider say?”

“He won’t tell me anything. Wants to wait until after the funeral tomorrow. Oh. He told me to tell you that if you say anything to me about anything else, you’ll earn yourself a spanking.” She rolled her eyes.

“And you’re telling me this?”

“He’s probably right. I need to get through the funeral. I need to say Goodbye to him. After that, I’ll get the rest of the details.”

I sat on her bed. She sat beside me.

“I have no siblings, Jojo, so I don’t know what it’s like. But I do know that I’d have a very hard time in your shoes. Especially if there were people trying to control what information I had.”

“They’re protective.”

I shrugged. We sat in silence a second and then I asked, “You wanna talk about it? Him?”

“We’d only dated a little while and it was secret, he didn’t want my brothers to know.”

“Oh, I know all about secret relationships. It’s how they fuck us over.”

She startled.

I realized my mistake. “Sorry. I meant me. It happened to me. A guy… it’s a long story. I didn’t mean… I don’t know anything about your relationship with him. Sorry. I’m a jerk today. I’m in major malfunction mode over here.”

She shook her head. “S’okay. We were gonna go public soon. It’s just… he’s in the club and he’d just got patched in. After a long, long stint as a prospect. My dad and brothers are protective, and he’s known us most of my life, and… it was delicate. Anyway, we only spent time together alone a couple times. I’ve had a crush on him for years. He was close to all my brothers, wouldn’t touch me. But, I knew he wanted to. So, I kept throwing myself at him. But then he found out my dad and brothers had plans to leave town and he started reciprocating a little. And even then… he was so careful with me. We’ve secretly had a thing a few months and no one knew except one person. He treated me like a delicate china teacup. He knew that any brother, mine or club brothers, they’d have his balls if they thought he was just out to tag some tail.”

She shrugged. “We had only had a few dates. Secret dates. But we texted constantly, and we talked deep. Hopes. Dreams. The future. We’d gone farther than ever the night of the accident. I took him to the cabin. I wanted it to be him. You know? My first. He stopped before… you know. But…” her eyes filled with tears.

I reached out and grabbed her hand.

“Sad, right? Nineteen-year-old virgin. But with my brothers?” she shook her head. “Everyone’s scared of them. They’ve all joked I’d be thirty-five before I was allowed to date. At this rate, it could be thrity-five before I find someone brave enough. I didn’t wanna stay behind with the boys and Daddy moving, stuck with Psycho Shelly, but for the first time in my whole life, I didn’t have a pack of bodyguards breathing down my neck and scaring off any guy who’d look at me. I figured I’d stay for a few months, enjoy the freedom. Mom barely notices me, so I do what I want. I figured I’d see if things with Luke would …” she shrugged.

I gave her hand a squeeze. Her eyes were all misty.

“And he was so sweet, Jenna. Luke was just so…” She got all dreamy-eyed. And then the lovesick look died. “I don’t even remember the accident. I guess I blocked it. I remember he was driving me home and then I woke up in the hospital.” She wiped her eyes. “Ugh. I have to stop this. I gotta get a fast shower and then I’ll get us breakfast before we head to the clubhouse. Go ahead and use whatever …” she gestured to her dressing table.

“I’m so sorry, Jojo.” I reached out and gave her a hug. She sank into me and then looked at me and gave me a little smile.

“I like you for him. I met Ella just briefly. I really liked her. Ride says you’re her bestie?”

I nodded. “Since we were in kindergarten. But---”

“This is gonna be awesome. Us three can gang up against them. We gotta find the right girl for Spency. He’s a handful. He needs a strong woman. We’ll work together on that once I move to Aberdeen.”

“I don’t mean to burst your bubble, but me and Rider…” I winced.

She laughed. “Right. You’re as smitten as he is. It’s all over your face.”

I gawked. And then I shook my head. “No. I don’t … well, he and I aren’t… I thought we might, but I was wrong. And, yeah, I was a smitten kitten, but I’m not now. Because I have to keep my head together. Because he made things clear. He’s acting weird right now, but my guess is it’s just this drama.”

“You’re wrong,” she said, and with certainty. “And it’s the only thing making me happy right now, so I’m gonna hang onto his little bit of happy. Okay?”

I kind of just blinked at her.

She gave me a still-teary smile and dashed to the bathroom, a blur of pink bunny slippers and curly hair.

I stood there a minute, frozen. 

When I was finished quickly fluff-drying my hair and putting a bit of make-up on, I wandered back out and heard Rider arguing with his mother before I got to the end of the hall.

“You’re the only one who gives a fuck about me, Ride. Your brothers are so cold. ‘Specially Spency. Now you’re taking Jojo? What about me? What. About. Me?”

“No, Ma. Joelle needs to be kept safe. We don’t fuckin’ know what else these bastards have planned. And Spence needs time. You gotta realize, all that’s happened is gonna have some lasting effects. And it wouldn’t hurt you ending your association with our enemies, Ma. Seriously.”

“I gotta support myself and you know your father cut me off. I didn’t know this’d happen. It ain’t my fault the Jackals hang out at the bar I work at. This ain’t on me. Your fucking father---. And I love you, Ride. You know I love you the most. But, you gotta take responsibility that you and your buddies dipped your wick and didn’t think about the consequences. Typical men.”

I felt sick at hearing that. And I, strangely, almost wanted to defend him.

“Stop,” he growled. “For the last time, that gash bullshitted. It wasn’t rape.”

“Sure as fuck looked like it.”

“You saw?”

“’Course I did. I told Mantis I wouldn’t believe it unless I saw it with my own eyes, so he showed me.  They put it on the big screen in the bar. Lotta people saw it.”

There was silence and I was flabbergasted at the idea of Rider’s mother seeing that video. At people in bar seeing that video?

“It was just a game,” he said. “A game that was Kailey’s idea.”

Ouch. Yikes. How could she watch that? And yet she still didn’t believe him despite his explanation? Had I missed something pivotal by not watching the whole thing or was she just… a c-word?

I backed up, thinking maybe I should go back to Jojo’s room to let these two have privacy, when I heard the horrible sound of a cat cry out. A tiny beautiful short-haired white cat with big powder blue eyes backed away, looking scared.

I squatted. “I’m so sorry, little kitty,” I whispered. “Did I hurt your tail?”

It blinked at me and then rubbed against me, purring. It forgave me instantly.

I scratched its head and noted it had on a black collar with a bell and some silver studs. A badass collar for a tiny white blue-eyed kitty with a very feminine face.

“Baby,” Rider called out, obviously having heard me. At the sound of his voice, the cat meowed loud and ran, faster than I could’ve anticipated, and I followed and saw her using her claws and climbing straight up Rider’s jeans. He hefted her tiny body up into one hand and she rubbed her forehead all over his chin.

I stepped in with a tentative smile.

Rider’s mother was leaning with her hip against the kitchen counter, her arms folded over her chest, a scowl on her face.

“I gotta go to bed. Haven’t slept yet,” Shelly muttered.

“It was nice to meet you,” I said.

“Mm,” she waved haphazardly in a ‘whatever’ gesture and looked to Rider.  “Take that fuckin’ fur ball with you if you’re goin’ more than a day. I ain’t feedin’ it.”

Rider rolled his eyes, still scratching the purring kitty.

There was loaded silence. I looked at him and chewed the inside of my cheek, feeling awful about how she’d been toward him.

“How old is she?” I reached over and petted her head.

“Three or four.”

“She’s not a kitten? She’s so tiny.” She looked only about half grown.

“Nope.”

“How are you so tiny? What’s your name?”

“Marshmallow,” Rider answered for the kitty.

I laughed. And then I saw him looking at me with warmth and the cat wriggled and then pounced onto me. Her tiny little claws were felt through the thin hoodie of Jojo’s I was wearing.

I winced.

Rider carefully extracted her from my front and put her on the floor.

She did figure eights around my legs, purring her little heart out. And then she wound herself around his legs.

We watched her in silence a minute.

I heard the roar of motorcycle pipes. It sounded like multiple bikes. “One sec,” he said and then he moved to the door.

Jojo was rushing to us, in a robe, hair wet. “Ay yay yay. Breakfast. I gotta…”

I touched her non-casted arm.

“It’s okay. Why don’t I do that while you get dressed? Just tell me what to do.”

She brightened. “They’re here now so maybe we should just toast some bagels and take them on the road. Or we’ll skip it. There’ll be food at the club.”

“I can toast bagels,” I said.

She pointed to a bread box. “Bagels are in there. There’s cream cheese in the fridge. I like the dill. Ride likes the salmon. There’s also plain and strawberry. Brady won’t eat a bagel so just us three.”

“Roger.” I gave her a thumbs up.

Rider was back when I was half way through buttering the last bagel. He froze in his tracks and looked at me.

“Jojo is getting dressed so I’m on breakfast duty.”

I put strawberry cream cheese on it and wrapped it in paper towel.

Rider grabbed a bag from a drawer and tossed some bottled water and bottled juice in and then called down the hall. “Joelle!”

She rushed out, dragging a suitcase, dressed in jeans, heeled ankle boots, and a black t-shirt. And I’d been right. She had seriously sexy curves. No wonder her dad and brothers were so protective. “Get the other?” she asked.

He went to her room and came back with the black suitcase.

“Your stuff, Jenna?” he asked.

“Oh. My purse is on Jojo’s bed. I’ll get it.”

“Where’s the clothes you had on?” he asked.

“I left them in Jojo’s basket. They weren’t mine, so she said it was okay.” I gave him a glare and he looked like he was examining my face.

Jojo chuckled. “I repacked that hoodie with your stuff, Jenna. When we get to the clubhouse, I’ll get it washed so you can get it right back on.”

Rider’s eyes hit his boots, but he wasn’t even trying to hide his smirk.

“No need. I won’t be wearing that again.” I remarked, wiping the cutting board and putting the butter knife into the dishwasher.

Rider’s eyes cut to me and then his brows went up.

“I saw what was on the back of it. Haha, very funny,” I rolled my eyes at him, my face burning hot.

He looked at me with a deathly serious look on his face, but he said nothing. Though he said nothing, my heart was racing, because if I could guess at the expression, he was telling me, without telling me, that I would be wearing it again.  I didn’t hide my reaction very well. I looked away, feeling more burning in my chest.

“Time to go,” he said. “Joelle. Drive the Charger. Jenna, we’re on the bike.”

“I, uh…” I didn’t want to be on the back of his bike again. I didn’t want to feel that feeling again. Why? Because it felt like something I shouldn’t be allowed to feel after all that had happened in the past few days. The last night in my apartment, when we’d been on his bike was amazing. I wouldn’t feel amazing his time. It’d make me feel the full weight of what wouldn’t be.

“I’ll ride with Jojo,” I offered.

“No. You’re on the back of my bike.” He tossed keys at his sister. She caught them. He took both suitcases and the bag of breakfast stuff and left. Jojo disappeared down a hall and came back with a carrying case with little Marshmallow in it. She was blinking from the front of the cage, looking at me, as Joelle walked down the hall toward the door.

“What can I carry?” I asked.

“Oh. Shit. There’s a bag with her food bowls and stuff. It’s by the back door.”

By the back door down a short hall from the kitchen was a big bag with a disposable litter tray that was prefilled, and half a dozen cans of kitty food, a bag of kitty kibble, plus pink and white Hello Kitty food and water dishes.

I grabbed those and my purse, and followed Jojo.

Outside, behind Rider’s Charger, were several motorcycles parked with bikers standing in the driveway. They all had their eyes on me and Jojo. And their expressions were all hard.

With what was going on, I wasn’t surprised. But, I felt very self-conscious. And I was also feeling very exposed. Where was Rider? I looked around and heard the sound of a gate. He was pushing out a very vintage but what looked like a meticulously loved motorcycle from the back yard. I knew nothing about motorcycles, but I’d say this was lovingly looked after. Every inch of it gleamed in the sun.

He went to an older man with long greying hair and a tidy beard and said something. The man gave a chin jerk and reached behind into a storage bag on the side of his motorcycle and passed Rider a helmet.

Rider set the bike on its kickstand and then moved to me, grabbed my hand, and moved me forward.

“Brothers, Jenna. She’s mine.”

My heart did a flip-flop. What kind of caveman statement was that?

All eyes were on me. And with all eyes on me at a time like this, I couldn’t possibly disagree with him or tell him to go to hell. These men were dealing with the death of a member’s woman. And the possible framing of another death. Only days after a member was murdered and a prospect butt-raped.

All the hard faces softened at his statement. This, for some reason, made my heart race even more.

“Jenna, Rudy, Prez of the mother chapter,” Rider said and the man who’d passed the helmet shook my hand.

“Good to meet ya,” he said softly and kissed my hand.

“Hi,” I said. It said ‘President’ on the front of his leather vest.

“You know Brady and that’s Axel.” He pointed to a tall bald and bearded black man standing beside Brady who gave me a nod.

“Duckie.” He pointed to an older man with a big belly, long curly grey hair, and a beard as long as the ZZ Top guys. “That’s Bud.” He pointed to another biker, this one short and stocky with a goatee, maybe in his fifties, with piercing green eyes.

“Hey, Jenna.” Brady moved in and gave me a quick hug. It, thankfully, broke the awkward spell. He moved to Jojo and lifted her up off the ground and blew a raspberry on her cheek. She let out a little chuckle. He took Marshmallow from her and put the crate in the back seat of the Charger.

All the men moved in and gave me hugs, one at a time. 

I sensed the heaviness in the air. Of course. A woman was left dead at their gates that morning. That they were here to escort two other females to safety felt kind of huge.

It was not the time for me to throw a hissy fit about being on his motorcycle or introduced as ‘mine’.

I noticed that Brady and Axel were both actively watching our surroundings.

“Time to ride,” Rider said and then he put the helmet on me. His eyes met mine and his expression was serious. My teeth sank into my tongue as I tried to hold myself together.

We rode with the president, Rudy, at the front. Two bikes were flanking him.  Rider and I were behind him with Jojo driving the Charger behind us and then two motorcycles drove directly behind her.

The convoy drove only about ten minutes and then we were pulling up to gates. Gates that had police tape up around them and two squad cars parked beside the entrance.

We stopped, but kept idling, in front of the cop cars and Rudy waved at a cop. We then drove down a gravel lane beside the gate and a smaller gate was opened by a young biker in a prospect vest. The convoy moved in and I saw that we were in a yard with several big rig trucks that read Dominion Moving and Storage, several cars, and loading docks.

We drove around that area to a parking area in front of a big warehouse. The area in front of the place was filled with people. Bikers. Women. I saw people sitting on picnic benches under a covered patio area that was built off the side of the building. People looked like they were consoling one another. I saw people crying, people holding Kleenex boxes and passing them around. My heart grew heavy.  Or heavier.

I also saw who had to be Edge, the faux-hawked guy from the video. He was sitting on top of a picnic table, with his head in his hands.

Rider turned the bike off.  I got my helmet off and passed it to him. He passed it to Rudy and then walked us to the car where we met Jojo, getting out. She was looking around, looking confused.

“Jackals got Jet,” Rider said, letting go of me and taking her by the shoulders. “Didn’t wanna tell you till we got here. Dumped her body by the gates this morning.”

She did a slow blink. Rider pulled her close and she looked up into his eyes.

“Why?”

“Tomorrow. After Lick’s funeral. Tell you all of it then.”

She shook her head in confusion and I could see in her eyes she was trying to work out how it was all connected.

“Are they just randomly taking us out?” she asked. Her lower lip was trembling.

He pulled his lips tight.

“No?” she asked.

Rider kissed her forehead. “Later, Joelle. Okay? C’mon.”

She stood there, eyebrows furrowed. A young woman, maybe my age, with beautiful platinum blonde shoulder-length hair stepped up and put her arms around Jojo.

Rider took my hand and pulled me along and started to introduce me to people who were approaching. Bikers and women who were either with bikers at their sides, or who were maybe just there. And every time he introduced me, he said, “mine.” “Jenna,” he’d gesture, “mine.” Or, “this is Jenna, she’s mine.”

How did I respond to that? I decided on the spot that I couldn’t. I just said my helloes and my ‘nice to meet yous’ and eventually, I was introduced to a lady that engulfed me in a massive embrace after she’d kissed Rider right on the mouth.

“Aunt Delia, Jenna.”

He didn’t say, “mine” this time and I gave him a quizzical look.

She kissed me right on the mouth, too, and hugged me hard. I was a little bit taken aback, but she seemed so nice that I found myself putting my arms around her.

She looked like she’d been crying for hours.

“Patticakes is gonna give you some keys. I put you in the room I’d given your brother the other day since it has an ensuite. Joelle’ll be down the hall.”

“Thanks, Aunt Delia,” he said. “How you doin’?”

She threw her hands up in the air. “I can’t wrap my head around it. I can’t. Blow and two other boys were comin’ in early from a run and they found her. I didn’t see her. I got here an hour later. Thank God. I don’t think I coulda handled it, Ride. That girl was like a daughter to me. She woulda been if Edge ever put a ring on her finger. And he’s a fuckin’ mess.”

He hugged her again. And then Rudy approached and pulled her to his side and I knew then, she had to be his wife.

I stood there, holding myself with my own arms, feeling the pain in the air like a living and breathing thing.

“Gotta give some sugar to your sister. How’s she holdin’ up?”

“She knows next to nothin’ yet. Keepin’ it that way till after Lick’s funeral.”

“Okay, well, I’ll shadow her until we get her to her room. She’s three doors down from you two. I’ll pass word around that no one gossips.”

Delia moved away from Rudy and then had Jojo, who’d been being hugged by a bunch of bikers ten feet from us, in her arms.

Rider took my hand and gave me a look.  I didn’t know how to read it at first, but it didn’t take long for me to figure out what it was about. He moved us to the picnic table where Edge was sitting.

Edge looked up at Rider and his face? He was wrecked. Absolutely ravaged with grief.

I met Edge’s eyes and my stomach roiled. I saw a flashback of the video. I don’t know what his involvement was, because I exited soon after I saw his face, but I was glad for that. Now that I had to face him, I was relieved I didn’t know.

He stood, and Rider pulled him into a hug and pounded on his back.

“We’ll get them, brother. They’ll pay. So fuckin’ sorry, man.”

Edge pushed out a long breath and nodded and wiped his eyes with the heels of his hands, and then his eyes came to me. “Hey. Good to meet ya.” He moved in and hugged me. I went stiff. I couldn’t help it. I doubt he even noticed, though.

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” I said.

I felt him take a broken breath and then he moved away. The look in his eyes was communicating something to me, but I didn’t know what.  Rider grabbed my hand and pulled me to him. As I collided with Rider, Jojo was moving toward Edge, and she was red-eyed, and her chin was trembling. When she got to him, they both started to sob. My eyes welled up.

I didn’t know these people. I barely knew Rider. But, I did know that this was real pain I was seeing here. And that a young woman was dead, murdered after being violated.  It was awful.  Beyond awful. I effing hated those Wyld Jackals. Hated them.

A tall dark-haired and tattooed older biker lady moved to us and passed Rider a key.  She kissed him on the cheek and reached over and squeezed my hand, and then she moved to Jojo and pulled her into a hug.

Rider tugged my hand and we walked inside the vast warehouse, through an open area with exposed rafters and then down a hallway that had drop ceilings. We went down a series of more hallways and then he unlocked a door, taking us into a small windowless bedroom with a double bed, a plain dresser, a smallish TV mounted up in a corner, a wooden chair, and a door that led to an adjoining bathroom. This felt like a dorm room. It felt a little bit claustrophobic. Not only because of the windowless status, but also because of that scene out there. And the two of us being alone in here.

At least behind these tall gates with all these bikers, maybe I was safe. Maybe. Until when, though?

Rider’s phone started ringing. He let go of my hand and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Yeah? Yeah. See ya in a minute.”

He dialed another number and then put the phone to his ear. “Deacon?” He gave me a ‘one second’ finger and stepped out of the room into the hall.

I sat on the bed and pulled my lips tight.

A few minutes later, he was back.

He let out a breath as he tossed that black suitcase and a Duffle bag of his to the floor.

His eyes were on me.

I rolled my eyes.

“What?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Got somethin’ to say?”

“I might, if things weren’t what they are because of what happened this morning with your friend’s girlfriend. I might have a lot to say.”

“Feel free,” he invited, with a wave of his hand.

I shook my head, but glared at him. “No thanks. But, I reserve the right to save it for another time.”

He crouched in front of me, so we were eye level. “Say it.”

“Why are you introducing me that way?”

He smiled. “Because that’s how it is.”

“It isn’t.”

“Tell ya what. Try me on for size. We get through this, we’ll talk about whether it’s permanent.”

How dare he.

“You know, I was tryin’ to be cool with all you’re dealing with, but how fucking dare you!”

He laughed a little bit and there was a sparkle in his eyes. He advanced, and I was pinned under his body. The playfulness was gone and in its place, was a look as serious as a heart attack.

“I dare.”

I brought my knee up and almost got him square between the legs, but he deflected, spun me around, and then he had me pinned on my belly on the bed.

“Wanna wrestle?” he said, huskily in my ear.

I struggled.

“Fuck, forgot the cuffs,” he grumbled.

I looked up and there was no headboard to cuff me to. Thank God.

“Get off me.”

“Gonna have to get creative in makin’ you behave.”

“Get your hands off me,” I ordered.

There was a knock on the door. 

He stopped a second, most of his weight still on me, and then his mouth was on my neck. He kissed it affectionately and got off.

Weird. As if that was all a joke. All a game. This guy was a mystery to me.

He stepped out into the hall. And I sat up and tried to catch my breath.

I was pulled from my dark thoughts as the door opened and I saw Rider had let Jojo in, but he stayed out there, talking on the phone. Brady walked by, carrying the purple suitcase and Marshmallow in her crate.

Jojo put the bagel bag down on the end of the bed. “I’m just a couple doors down. She reached in and pulled a bagel out.” I don’t think I can even eat. People know what I’m not allowed to know so I can’t be out there.” She rolled her eyes. “Gonna be a long day.”

I chewed my lip. “Come back and hang with me. Can we get a deck of cards or something?”

Rider entered the room.

“Good idea,” she said. “We need some playing cards, Ride. Maybe you oughta just tell me. Let me deal. Then I’m---”

“No,” his eyes cut to her. He’d been eyeing me.

“You do realize that this is fucking with my head. This is making things worse.”

“Jo---”

“Tell me, damn it!” she shoved him.

He barely moved an inch.

“Jet’s death is related. I know it. Explain. Please, Ride.”

Rider sat down on the wooden chair by the head of the bed and put his fingertips to his temples.

“I can’t take this back once it’s out. And it might be better that you hear this after the funeral. Dad, Spence, Deacon, and me…we’ve all agreed.”

“I wanna know what’s going on. Me. I’m not a kid, Ride. Don’t you see that this is torture? My mind is spinning. And if I know, I don’t have to be cooped up. I can be out there helping get things ready for tomorrow and keeping my mind busy.”

I felt like I shouldn’t be here for this conversation. This was private.

“I’ll just…” I pointed to the door.

“Stay.” Rider said.

“Then, maybe you two should just…” I pointed to the door.

Rider shook his head at me.

Awkward.

Rider looked to me. “What do you think? If you were her, knowing what you know, would it be better before or after the funeral?”

I looked at Jojo.

“Jenna, be honest. If you say right now that he shouldn’t tell me, I’ll let it go.”

“You don’t know me, Jojo. That’s a lot of stock you’re putting into someone you just met.”

“You’re a sister. A sister’ll know much better than a guy.”

I looked at Rider. “She’s gotta feel whatever she’s gonna feel. I get you don’t want her angry at him and then regret that later, and I haven’t been to many funerals, but funerals are supposed to bring closure. I think either way, it’s gonna be hard, but the sooner she can get started on working to coming to grips with everything, even the bad stuff, the better.”

He stared at me a beat and then nodded and looked to his sister. “You ever meet Kailey?”

Wow. I was a little thrown by his confidence in my opinion.

“Kailey?” Jojo asked.

“Blonde. Hangs out with Gia.”

“Gia’s stepsister. Yeah.”

“Gia’s what?” Rider asked, anger glittering in his eyes.

“Gia’s dad married her mom when they were kids. They split, but those two are still tight.”

He gave his head a shake. “Skinny bitch, long straight blonde hair. Beauty mark on her upper lip? Harley tramp stamp?”

“That’s her,” Jojo confirmed.

Didn’t know they were related. This changes Gia’s welcome status.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Kailey is an old lady to a Jackal.”

Jojo blinked.

“She fucked around with a few guys, took four at once, secretly taped it, hooked up with a Jackal who made her his old lady, then she presented the tape as a gang-rape. Incorrectly.”

Jojo’s mouth dropped open.

“First, we thought she was lyin’ because he heard rumors about her, that she was tryin’ to save face, sayin’ she was raped rather than admitting she was playin’ with four guys at once. But once the tape came out, it was obvious. It was staged. She set up four brothers to play a sex game. She recorded it without their knowledge. She presents a good case, because that’s how she staged it. It’s bullshit. It was a game. Not the first time that kind of game got played in the back room at Charlie’s. Not the first time she played it with brothers from our club. Jackals have come after us, using it as retribution, tryin’ to get the other clubs on side with us to change teams.”

Jojo blinked a couple times. “How does that get misrepresented when it’s a tape?”

“It was a game. Role playing. Rough sex.  She’d played it before and asked for it rougher.”

I sat there, my heart racing, my stomach churning with something vile and acidic.

“Which four brothers?” Jojo asked softly, tears forming in her already red eyes.

“Joelle…” Rider said gently.

“Who! I already know at least one, obviously Luke, but who else? Edge?”

“Yeah.”

“Who else?” she looked at me and then light dawned and her eyes cut back to Rider. “You?”

“And Scoot.” His eyes moved to the wall and his jaw muscles were flexing.

“That’s why Scott got beat up.” Jojo’s eyes were on her brother and they were haunted.

He nodded.

“When?” she asked.

Rider’s face contorted.

“When did you guys and Luke fuck her?” she demanded.

“Mid-July.”

She practically flew off the bed and was in the bathroom, door slamming hard. Rider closed his eyes.

Obviously, her relationship with Lick / Luke had already begun in July. We were now in early September.

Obviously, Edge had been with Jet at that time.

Scooter had been single. Rider: also single. But now Jojo wasn’t just coping with losing her secret boyfriend; she was also coping with the fact that he’d been cheating on her. In dirty drunken four-on-one gangbangs.

I shook my head, feeling anger rise. I was jiggling my legs, trying to keep a lid on all of it. That poor girl in there.

His phone made noise. He looked at the screen and then leaned forward on the chair and put his hand on my knee. “I hate to ask you this, but can you just hang tight here and keep her here if you can? Keep her company? I gotta hit church. Be back as soon as I can.”

“Huh?”

“I need to go to an urgent club meeting,” he clarified. “Stay in here. I’ll be back in a few. I know we got shit to work out, but don’t fan those flames.” He gestured toward the bathroom door.

“Go,” I snapped, jerking my leg to make his hand slip.

“Jenna…”

“Go, Rider. I have nothing to say right now.”

“Really?” he asked snidely.

“No. Not really. I actually have lots to say. But, I can’t say any of it, because right now, all that matters is your sister’s feelings. Don’t worry, I won’t make her feel worse. I don’t even think that’s possible.”

He tilted his head curiously at me.

“Go. I’ll take care of her.”

He looked a little frazzled. He ran his hands through his hair and then abruptly hooked a hand around the back of my neck and brought my head forward and touched his lips to my forehead. He just as abruptly let go and went to the bathroom door.

“Joelle, I’m headin’ to church. Stay with Jenna till I get back, okay?”

I heard a banging sound, like kicking the door, as a reply.

He turned and left the room, running his hand through his hair and shooting me what looked like an apologetic look.

And I sat there and tried to get my shit together. So, I could be supportive to a girl I’d just met whose heart went from crushed to completely annihilated.

There was a knock on the door. I got up and opened it.

Brady was there with Marshmallow. “Ride says Jo’s in here. I was waitin’ in her room. You want the cat, or should I drop her back in there?”

I reached out and took the carrying cage and the bag of cat accessories from him.

He gave me a tight smile and was gone, moving quickly down the long hallway.

I shut the door and put the crate on the bed and opened the door. She cautiously came out.

Not long later, Jojo cautiously came out, too.

“It’s just us,” I said, petting Marshmallow.

Jojo sat on the bed beside me.

“You okay?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No. We got started in June.”

Shit.

“We’d only kissed a couple times by then, but…” she thrust her fingers into her hair and her chin started trembling.

And then she looked at me. “Emotionally, we were something. Were you and Ride seeing each other then? Is that why you’re havin’ a rough go of things?”

I shook my head. “No. We met the end of last month, I guess. We’ve only hooked up a couple times and his … is this weird?” I asked, ready to spare her the details.

“No. I can deal. I need to understand this, make sense of all of it. That might not even be possible, but go ahead…” she invited.

“I kind of crushed hard,” I said. “And he’s totally not my type. But, it was almost like something snapped into place. And I tried to play it cool, because I’ve been hurt, so I have my heart shrouded in Kevlar, and… and he stomped on it anyway. And now all this is happening and I’m apparently in danger. He’s trying to act like it’s not just about hooking up, but yet… things he’s saying don’t add up. I don’t think we’re on the same page and doubt we ever will be.”

I was not about to tell her that Rider told me I was bad in bed, so it made no sense to me that he was acting like he wanted to be in a relationship with me. I mean, why would he? He liked kinky rough sex and I guess I’m too tame in bed. Too selfish. Too materialistic. Too… me.

We spent the next few hours playing cards while she talked about her life, her family. She was solemn, but she was still good company. She had to have been dealing with all this the past few days and thought it wouldn’t be any easier with the bomb that just got dropped, I knew already it was easier than not knowing, than wondering. At least now she could try to move forward. Not wait for the funeral to be over and then have a whole new set of things to cope with.

Listening to her talk about her family, about her life, it wasn’t hard to conclude that the Valentines were held together with love that came from their dad and the club. Shelly didn’t sound like she was around much and when she was, she’d done things to make herself an outcast. Jojo was the baby of the family, but she took care of the house the way Shelly should’ve. When Shelly and Deke broke up, she started working at the bar that was the local hangout for the Wyld Jackals. This was after she’d already been suspected of cheating on Deke with one of them on top of a bunch of other drama including stepping out on Deke with one of the Dom members, too. She was a shitty wife, a shitty mother.

Jojo told me her parents fought like cats and dogs and that months back, her mother had told her she wasn’t even Deke’s daughter. She blurted this at a family dinner for Spencer’s birthday, causing a rip-roaring argument and it rocked the foundation of the world for all of them. A DNA test had revealed that Deke was, in fact, Jojo’s father, but significant damage was done to the whole family.

Jojo went on to tell me more about her brothers and how their family (minus their mother) had unconditional love, telling me that Deacon and Spence fought a lot and that Spencer was a dick to Deacon and yet Deacon always forgave him. 

Spencer had demons and Jojo believed a lot stemmed from his issues with his mother. She’d abandoned him as a toddler on regular occasions and cast him aside when Jojo was born and was verbally abusive to him. He’d had rough teen years, and then had turned angry, often turning to booze and drugs.

She talked about Deacon’s history with women and I’d already heard a bit about it, but hearing more from Jojo as we played Gin Rummy, alternately giving affection to the little white purr machine, I felt sad for Deacon, hearing more about the story of his first girlfriend.

“How, then...” I started, feeling emotional, “could Rider be into that kind of scene, knowing what’d happened with Deacon?”

It made no sense to me.

She shook her head. “Rider is a live fast, ride hard and have fun guy. He avoids drama. Hates it. He’s all about the fun. Always has been.”

Rider sounded like me in male form.

She went on. “He uses humor as a weapon against stress, against drama he can’t run from. When things go haywire he acts like it all rolls off his back. Things get crazy with the club. Maybe that’s how he blows off steam. He’d never hurt a girl on purpose.”

I made a face of disgust. But her characterization of him made sense. He’d been joking with me throughout all this. Was it his coping mechanism? Or did he really just not take much of anything too seriously?

She kept talking. “They all get liquored up and there are these girls that just stick around and wait. Like vultures. They’re either all over them or they wait until the brothers are drunk enough. Dressed slutty, wanting to be with them, willing to do whatever. Some of those girls think that’s the way in, the way to becoming an old lady, and they’re wrong. Some girls want to get high or got nowhere to go. Some are just party girls, hang-arounds. I’m friends with Gia. She’s a biker bunny. She’s always around during the club parties. She’s absolutely gorgeous, could be a model, but the way she found her way in means none of them would ever look at her as old lady material. And it’s sad, because she’s a great girl with a lot to give. And they’ll never see her as anything but a piece of ass.”

I shook my head.

“Gia’s been with all three of my brothers at least once. I think she fucks Spence occasionally. She’s probably been with every single guy under fifty in the club at one time or another. She’s broken. And they don’t see who she is. What she has to give.” She shook her head. “I keep telling her to go somewhere new. To find herself a decent guy. She’s convinced it’ll happen for her with our club eventually. She loves this club. But in the meantime, she’s lonely and she just takes whatever dregs she can get. That’s probably another reason why my brothers are so protective of me dating. They didn’t want me getting labelled biker bunny.  That’s the way my dad explained it to me when I was sixteen and complaining my brothers wouldn’t let me date a biker.” She snickered bitterly.

 

“Daddy said that one day, if I set my sights on a brother, that brother shouldn’t have to worry I’d been with any of his brothers already. Daddy told me to date outside the club. Outside the life. But to keep my eyes peeled on club members in case any of them were worthy. I’ve never been attracted to a man who wasn’t in a leather cut, so I didn’t date outside the club. It’s weird. My father drilled into the boys to not ever get serious about club whores. That they were better than that. That comes from his bullshit with my mom, of course. She was a club whore and she got knocked up with Deacon and trapped Dad.” She shrugged. “But, I never got interested in any guy who doesn’t ride. Never. To me, they’re real men. They live by their rules. They go after what they want. They live large. We have a big awesome family that loves one another. We have a blast together. We’ll take a bullet for one another. It’s slightly dysfunctional in some ways, but aren’t all families?”

We both must’ve gotten lost in our thoughts (me in my longing), because we played out the rest of the game quietly.

“How long did Jet and Edge date?” I asked after a long silence.

Her eyes went dark again. “Like…five years maybe.”

I winced.

“But they’ve loved each other a lot longer than that. They’d dated when they were teens, too. She was in foster care and got transferred somewhere else, so they split due to distance. Found one another again years later. She was good people,” Jojo whispered.

“I think she got the video I got.”

“You got? You…you saw it?” Jojo’s eyes went wide.

“Just a couple seconds. I thought I was gonna be sick. I closed it and took off. Bronto and Jesse took me kicking and screaming to your family cabin. The Wyld Jackals had already threatened to do something to me. It looked real. Jojo, if that’s the caliber of the men in this club, why would anyone want that?”

She winced. “Not all bikers cheat, Jenna. My dad never cheated on Mom. Never. And she deserved it. She cheated loads. And Jet never said anything, but she and Edge seemed happy. I don’t know if they had an open relationship or what, but…” she trailed off, looking lost in thought.

I didn’t say anything to that, because her biker had cheated. Because, obviously Edge had cheated on the now-dead Jet. And his cheating had gotten Jet dead. Rape or not rape, open relationship or not, Jet was dead because of Edge sleeping with that Kailey girl.

“Did you see Luke?” she asked. “In the video?”

I put my hand up. “Please don’t ask me about it. You don’t wanna know.”

She shook her head. “I can tell by your face that he was fully involved. It must’ve been hard to see my brother---”

“It was.”

“But it was before you two met.”

I shrugged.

“My brother didn’t rape her. Neither did Scott, Luke, or Edge. I know these guys. If they say it was a game, it was.”

I had nothing to say to that.

Jojo got up with a sigh and a sad expression. “I’m gonna go grab my phone, call Gia and find out what the fuck. I also gotta warn her now that Ride knows she’s Kailey’s stepsister.”

“This gives me a bad feeling,” I warned her.

“I’ve known Gia for ages.  She’ll get me information about Kailey.”

“Her boyfriend was found in a dumpster in Aberdeen his morning.”

Jojo’s eyes bugged out. “What the fuck?”

“Rider says they’re trying to frame the Dominion Brotherhood.”

“Who was he?”

“A Jackal. Ben something.”

“I don’t know him. I’ll be back.” She stepped out into the hallway.

I hung out with Marshmallow.

Rider stepped in a couple minutes later.

“Where’s my sister?” he asked, looking around.

“She went to make a call.” I kept petting the cat. “I need my phone.”

“Why?”

“I have to call my mother,” I grumbled. And then my gaze cut to him. “You know, I shouldn’t have to ask to use my own effing phone.” I thought I’d maybe left it at the cabin, but the look on his face told me he had my phone.

He folded his arms across his chest. “If I wasn’t worried about what sorta calls you’d make, I wouldn’t make you ask.”

“I’m just gonna text her,” I muttered. “Deadline, remember?”

He sat on the bed and took my phone out of his jeans pocket and passed it to me.

I found Mom’s contact details and opened a text message.

“Can I help you?” I glared at Rider, who was looking at my phone screen.

“You’re not calling; you’re texting?”

“Yeah. So?”

“Chicken shit.”

“You wanna call her?” I offered.

“Nope. I’m chicken shit, too.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Call her.”

I looked at him.

“Better to know where things stand than send a text that pisses her off even more.” He shrugged.

There was wisdom in this. But, I often preferred avoidance where my mother was concerned. And, I wasn’t keen to do what he said, even if it made sense.

I checked my email to procrastinate, and then re-opened my text messages, about to compose a message to my Mom when I saw Daniel Sotheby’s text string.

I opened it. That morning’s text had been replied to.

“This is Jenna’s man. She’s not avail for breakfast with you today. Or ever.”

I glared at him. “Really?”

He jerked his chin up in question.

“You texted Daniel?”

His lip curled.

I rolled my eyes and went to my mother’s contact details and hit dial. Being pissed was being channeled into nerve…nerve to call Mom instead of text.

“You gonna stand here and listen, too?” I demanded.

He said nothing. He just stared.

There was a knock on the door. He opened it. My Mom’s line was ringing.

I saw Jojo’s head. Rider whispered something to her and then he stepped out into the hall with her.

“Hello,” Mom answered, grouchily.

“Hey Mom,” I said, my voice all scratchy.

Silence. But, I swear I could feel the animosity through the phone lines.

I cleared my throat. “I just wanted to check in, tell you I’m okay.”

“Where are you?” she demanded.

“Sioux Falls.”

“Why?”

“There’s some drama. I’m hoping to be back soon.”

“Genevieve, this is ridiculous. You have a business to run. You can’t just run off with some loser and…”

“I have coverage,” I defended, pacing the room. “And shit happens, Mom. I’m dealing with stuff and when it’s dealt with, I’ll be back. And he’s not a loser.”

I heard a noise behind me. Rider was standing there. He’d heard me defend him.  His expression was blank. His arms folded across his chest.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, young lady!” she snapped.

There was another rap on the door, so he stepped out again.

My eyes rolled ceiling-wards and I flopped back on the bed.

Marshmallow took that as an invite and climbed up onto me and stretched out across my belly.

“You get back here, and you get back here today or there will be consequences.”

“I can’t get back there today, Mom.”

“And why is that?” she demanded.

“I can’t tell you why. It’s complicated. I just ---”

“Either you give me a good reason, right now, why you can’t get back here today, or you’ll force my hand.”

“Mom! I’m an adult. I’m not a kid. And I don’t have to answer to every damn thing I do! I can’t get into things. I need you to just respect that I’ve got things under control with my business and that I’ll be home as soon as it’s feasible.”

“Your business is clearly not your priority, Genevieve.”

“You know what, Mother? I have a lot of priorities. My business. My friends and family. My safety. My happiness. And you and Daddy gave me the opportunity with this business, and I appreciate that, but sometimes I have to juggle things. You can’t use the business to control me. I don’t think I can take another three years of this.”

Silence on the phone line.

I sighed. “I’m sorry if you were worried. I can’t get into the details of why I can’t come home yet. You’re just gonna have to trust me.”

“No. I’m just gonna have to go now. I’m busy. Some of us take our responsibilities seriously.” And with that parting shot, she hung up on me.

Nice. I let out a growly sound in frustration and put the phone down.

Marshmallow was sleeping on my belly, her paws curled under her chest. She purred in her sleep. I put my hands on her head and felt her soft fur.

Mom had said she was allergic to cats, so we couldn’t have one. I’d always wanted one. I didn’t believe she was allergic. I’m convinced she just didn’t want me to have one. My dad’s aunt had two cats and we went there once for dinner, when I was a little kid, and Mom didn’t sneeze or complain once.

I decided that when I got home, I was getting a kitten. Or maybe a big old shelter cat who needed a forever home. Whether I had a business, or an apartment didn’t matter. I was a grown woman who could have an effing cat if I wanted to. Maybe I’d get a kitten and a shelter cat. And they’d have one another while I was at work, so they wouldn’t ever get lonely.

Rider stepped in. Jojo followed.

“How’d it go?” Rider asked, his voice soft.

I looked away and shrugged. “Not good.”

“I was just gonna get her and set her up in my room,” Jojo said. I sat up and passed the sleepy kitty to her.

“You okay?” Jojo asked.

I shook my head. “I’m gonna get a cat. Maybe two.”

Rider was staring at me curiously.

“You?” I asked Jojo.

She shook her head. “I’m gonna get drunk.”

I smiled. “Day drinking. Best idea I’ve heard all week.”

Rider’s eyes bounced between the two of us, and then he said, “It’s five o’clock somewhere. What do you girls wanna drink?”

“Pina coladas,” Jojo said. “No! Strawberry daquiris. Jet loved daquiris. And shooters. We’ll work up to the shooters.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“You two need to eat first,” Rider advised.

“Cold bagels?” I screwed up my face. Jojo screwed hers up, too.

“I’ll get you set up. Booze and food.” Rider kissed his sister’s forehead and then grabbed my hand. “What happened on that call?” I looked at his hand holding mine and felt something seize my chest.

Jojo reached for the bag with Marshmallow’s things and left the room, telling us, “Bang on my door when you’re ready for me.”

Me and Rider were alone.

“You okay?” he pushed.

“No.” I pulled my hand away. “But, I’m tired of her bullshit. She’s more worried about pulling my strings than what’s really going on that’s keeping me away. I can’t tell her the truth about why I can’t get back and frankly, I’m sick of her treating me like this. If she takes my salon… I’ll just figure something else out.”

He was quiet a moment, studying me. “That what you’ve always wanted to do?”

“I got my business degree and I worked at her bank, at Dad’s real estate brokerage. I just always wanted to do my own thing. I went to beauty school and got a loan for it and paid for it myself, despite their complaints about the business degree they paid for. I would’ve been totally happy working for another salon to start, but Dad insisted on giving me the salon. Well, I told them I wanted to pay for it. If it was gonna be mine, I wanted it to be mine for real, not a gift. And Dad came up with the plan to loan me the money and said if I did well, I’d only have to pay half and the rest would be early inheritance money from them. Morbid, kind of, but he insisted. She wasn’t happy from the get go, especially since Dad came up with the plan without her. But, then she figured out she could use the salon to control me, which she loves to do. I’m just so sick of it. Maybe I should walk. Go work for some other salon. Say forget it to the hassles.”

“You like having your own salon?”

“I love it.  Love every damn thing about it.” I sighed. “The spot. My customers. Making them feel good about themselves. Making plans for it to grow. Seeing it actually grow. My apartment upstairs.  My neighbors.”

He ran his fingers through my hair and I felt my insides freeze up. I was being real with him. I was being revealing. And it hit me that I shouldn’t be. Why was I?

“There it goes again,” he muttered.

“Huh?” I played dumb.

“The wall. Back up she goes. Read it all over your face and then saw it in your body language. If you and me are gonna work, we’re gonna have to do something about that.”

“If you and me are gonna work? What you and me? There’s no you and me.”

He smiled. And his smile wasn’t sweet. It was cocky. And dangerous.

He leaned over and kissed my lips.  “I think you know there is. I’ll leave that for you.” He gestured to my phone. “But, fair warning: you break my trust, it’ll be hard to earn back.” He pointed at me.

I jerked back away from him and shot him a glare. “Don’t point at me.” I reached to smack his hand away, but he caught my index finger in his grip and pulled it to his mouth and kissed it.

I was kind of speechless.

He smirked. “Text message there from Pippa for you.”

He left.

I stared at the door for a long time.

And then I stared at my phone and lifted it and went to a message from Pippa from earlier.

“Hey…. I talked to Rider and not to worry. Doc Lola’s sister Lulu is helping me with Kendra’s wedding. Deb knows her. Met her teaching a class at the beauty school. Crisis averted. Lulu’s fresh outta hair school but she has talent. 4sure. I sent Kendra her portfolio and told her to look @ it before I broke the news that you might not make it. I also got Lulu to do my hair in the style you picked for Kendra and she aced it. I showed Kendra and she was totally fine. You’ll luv Lulu. I think we found our new stylist for when Deb retires, but we’ll talk when you’re back. Can I give her a couple of your appointments this week? Not to worry, I’ve been doing the daily deposits, too. Pay her by the split you talked about doing when you hire someone? Call or text me.”

Rider called her about Kendra’s wedding? I didn’t know how to feel about that.

I texted back a heart and wrote:

“Thank you. My life saver! And sure. I trust your judgment. I’ll msg when I can but all’s ok right now. Love you. Xo”

I put the phone down. And I gave my head a shake. He’d acted like the wedding wasn’t even on his radar, but then went and took care of it. And today was Wednesday and he’d covered me for Saturday, so clearly, there were no plans to get me home before then.

A couple minutes later, there was a knock at the door. I opened it and it was Jojo. She had a pitcher containing a pink frozen beverage concoction and two glasses.

“Strawberry daquiris,” she announced. “I found a can of mix in one of the freezers. Likely from the last time Jet partied. I was gonna wait but he told me you were alone. He’s getting us food and more daquiri mix.”

Ten minutes later, Rider came in with a paper bag. He plopped it onto the wooden chair sitting beside the bed. I could smell whatever food it contained, and it smelled fantastic.

“Breaded veal parm sandwiches,” he said.

I looked at him and blinked. “Veal? Uh…. I do not eat baby animals.”

He took a big breath, pointed at the pitcher sitting on the chair, and said “Don’t. I’ll be back.” He passed Jojo the bag in his hand, which she accepted, and then he turned on his heel and was gone.

Just like that, no complaints or smart-alecky comments.

But forbidding us to drink? Bossy.

Jojo glanced at the door and then her eyes darted to me. She shook her head in what looked like confusion.

“Pour me one of those,” I said, feeling like ‘fuck it’.

We toasted Jet when we had our first sip.

***

I’d already had two daquiris on an empty stomach, and I had no idea how much booze was in them, but I did know that those types of drinks didn’t typically taste like booze --- but these ones did. In other words, whoever the mixologist was, they mixed with a heavy hand.

Rider came in with another bag. “Eggplant parm panini. You think eggplants are cute, babe, I’ll just say, you can pull it out and eat a tomato sauce sandwich.”

I laughed big.

He smirked at me, looking at me with warmth. I was feeling a buzz already.

Jojo got to her feet, holding the empty pitcher. “I’m gonna make some more…” she swayed just a little as she got to the door.

He tilted his head. “She eat?”

I nodded. “She ate both of them. She has no aversion to baby cow eating. The wench. Poor Norman.”

Jojo laughed as she shut the door on her way out.

“How many drinks have you had?”

“Two. But, it feels like six.”

“On zero food.” He shook his head. “Jojo’s cocktails are Molotov.”

“Huh?”

“Lethal.”

“I’ve never tasted eggplant parm,” I notified him, eyes on the bag.

He passed me the sandwich.

“How was your meeting?” I asked, feeling chatty and thinking the sandwich smelled awesome.

“Rough. Lotta tough decisions have to be made. How you doin’?”

“My life sucks.” I bit into the partly unwrapped sandwich. I chewed, swallowed, and then gushed about it. “Mm. This is really, really good.”

“Their pizza is their specialty. I’ll get us one before we head home.”

“Mm.” I kept eating. It was awesome.

Rider’s phone made noise and he texted for a minute and then he left when Jojo had come back with another pitcher of drinks. Me and Jojo had been drinking and talking. We’d been listening to music with my phone while playing cards on the bed, the wooden chair beside the bed pulled close to act as our drink table.

We’d decided to try to get our minds off the heavy stuff. I told her about my salon. About Aberdeen. About my life before all this craziness.

She told me about her closest friends, about how they all had crushes on her brothers, but that she forbade them to date any of her friends, after Spencer had done the dirty with one and then the girl got pregnant. Jojo’s friend had a miscarriage and it was a near miss… Spence was almost the first married off in a literal shotgun wedding. It had been a bad enough scene that Jojo made them all swear they’d never date her friends again.

Jojo kept losing her joy and sinking toward thinking about Luke, but when I saw it happening, I’d just start gabbing some more and change the topic.

She told me that a few of her friends met Ella at the hospital and were currently plotting to assassinate her for ‘bagging’ Deacon.

“Oh, Ella would win,” I assured. “She may be little and all cute-girl-next-door, but she’s fallen hard for Deacon. She’ll end those bitches to protect her man.”

“So, my other brother…” she said, pouring our fourth daquiris that felt like our tenth. “You fall hard for him?”

“Nope. We’re not talking heavy stuff,” I put my hand up.

She poured it too full, so I had to lean over and slurp some. My back was to the door and I hadn’t heard the door open, unfortunately for me.

“He’s off limits,” I said, licking my upper lip, still hunched over the chair and my too-full drink. “I can’t talk about him or how he’s the best sex I’ve ever had and how I’m the worst sex he ever had.”

“Err… Jenna…” Jojo started. But, I kept going.

“And how I could absolutely see a future with him. You know? The future I want. He needs a couple tweaks but he’s definitely a canvas I thought I could work with. Not the future my mother wants for me. Which is fine by me. I think I saw my whole life in my head that first time on the back of his motorcycle, and what I saw was good. Mm. More than good. But I was wrong. He’s allergic to commitment, as you said. And I’m just super vanilla. And he’s not. He’s… rocky road. Delicious rocky road.”

I sighed and then kept going, shaking my head.

“And we’re over before we got a chance to begin. Because I’m a selfish hypocrite materialistic bitch, apparently.  It was over before I got a chance to see if I could trust letting my guard down. And fuck, I wanted to. It’s just as well. I can’t trust him.” I looked up from my daquiri and noticed she had a horrified look on her face.

“What? Oh yeah, off limits. Let’s forget about him. Sorry for talking sex about your brother. But, yeah. Fuck him.” I put my mouth back to the glass and took another big slurp and lifted it off the chair we were using as a table. “Though I could go one more round, maybe. Show him that he’s wrong. R-O-N-G wrong. Be the best sex he’s ever had and then tell him Fuck You, Rider Valentine. Fuck you and your anti-monogamy..notony…monogo…whatever.”

“Joelle. Go to bed. We gotta get up early,” Rider said from behind me.

I jolted. I felt his hand on the back of my neck. He squeezed a little. Sweetly, maybe. Oh shit.

“Someone kill me. Please.”

I closed my eyes. How long had he been standing there?

“Night, babes,” she said to me.

“You got a gun, Jojo? Please. Shoot me,” I pleaded.

“Nope. No way am I shootin’ my future sister-in-law. Good luck, Ride.” She took her full drink and moseyed on out.

“Oh God,” I moaned.

He let go of my neck. “One sec. Hold that ‘fuck Rider’ thought.” And then he disappeared into the bathroom. And I was thinking, shit.

Retreat? Retreat!

I jumped to my feet and went out into the hall and was about to shut the door. Shit.  I didn’t have my bag. If I found my way out of this labyrinth, I’d need it.

I ducked back in and he was coming out of the bathroom.

“Where you goin’?”

“I gotta go.”

“Come here,” he said.

He was in just a pair of jeans and a black muscle shirt. His arms looked amazing. His ink. I could see the nipple piercing straining at the tight fabric of his shirt. He kicked his boots off and yanked his socks off and sat on the bed.

“Come here,” he repeated.

“Why?” I asked.

“I wanna talk to you.”

“No.” I shook my head, feeling like I was in mortal danger. Well, not me physically, but me emotionally. “Nope. I’m drunk, Rider. I need to just close my eyes and sleep. Not say more shit to embarrass myself while my Kevlar is malfunctioning.”

I went to him anyway.

Why? Who knows. Kevlar malfunction. Evidently.

He got to his feet when I got close. I pushed at his chest.

“Don’t. I wanna sleep. We’re done, you and me. Okay?” And then I ran my hands up his chest until they got to his shoulders. My hands stopped there. And then I shoved and grabbed him by fistfuls of his muscle shirt.

I looked up into his eyes. His beautiful green-blue eyes.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” he whispered, kissing my temple.

My heart hurt so bad it felt like it was bleeding. “I’m sure.” I touched his bottom lip with my fingertips. And then I pouted.

After a loaded moment of silence, me staring at his mouth, he stepped back.

“You don’t wanna try? See if we can make fireworks together? ‘Cuz I’d bet my Harley we can.”

I stared at him. My throat was dry. “No.” I took a step forward.

“Sure?”

“Yep.”

I stepped closer again. My hands were on his chest again. Or still? I didn’t know.

“Okay,” he shrugged and backed up.

And that hurt. I chewed the inside of my cheek, feeling the burn in my chest and my eyes.

“Okay?” I asked. I still had my hands on his chest. Or maybe I’d moved forward again.

He smiled at me and looked like he was about to crack up laughing.

I flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. He looked down at me and then pulled his shirt off and climbed in with me.

“Yeah, give up, Rider. They all do,” I said, all maudlin.

“What?” he asked, lifting up on an elbow and looking down at me.

“Nothing.”

He booped my nose with his index finger.

“Talk to me,” he said.

“How bad am I?” I asked.

“Huh?” he asked.

“In bed. I’m that bad?”

He let out a long sigh, “Gorgeous…”

“I’m not bad in bed. I’ve never had any complaints,” I defended. 

I didn’t like how my voice sounded. I sounded like a loser.

“Maybe you and me…we’re just not compatible in bed.” He was trying to be nice, but it was in his voice. It was written all over his face. And I could still hear those mean words he’d said about me being a selfish lay.

He was amazing in bed. He liked it rough, but the things he did with his tongue, his dick? He wasn’t bad in bed.

I was pissed at this guy. Pissed. But, I had to change his perception of me. Even if we were over, which we so were, I couldn’t let it end with him thinking I was bad in bed. He needed to have trouble getting over me because of how fucking awesome I am. He needed to think of me when he was old and gray and not nearly as hot, and think of me as the one that got away.

“Give me another shot. Let me show you you’re wrong. I’m not bad in bed.” I blurted.

His head jerked in surprise.

“We’re over. Don’t mistake me, Rider Valentine. But, I’m about to prove you wrong. Take off your fucking clothes!” I got to my feet and got the shock of my life when he got up too, and roughly grabbed my hips and backed me against the wall beside the bed.

I’d decided that though I was fed up with him and didn’t want anything to do with a guy who got his rocks off in a staged rape gangbang, I didn’t want to end this with him thinking what he thought about me. I was gonna walk away with him wanting more.

And not being able to get it.

His eyes were darker, hooded, and filled with intent. His hand cupped my jaw. “Since we’re over, I’ll give you a parting gift. I’ll show you how to fuck. I’ll show you how to rock the world of any man you wanna give that to. I’ll take off my fucking clothes, but first…” He grabbed my tank top with both hands and shredded it, stopping at the hem so that the front was ripped straight down the middle, but it was still technically on my body.  “Yours.”

He looked angry. Very angry. My heartrate spiked. And then he leaned in and ran his nose up the ridge of my ear and then sucked my earlobe into his mouth.

I started breathing heavily and wetness had already hit the gusset of my undies.

But, my heart hurt at just the notion of rocking some other guy’s world.  I pouted. And then I pulled my lip back in, but he saw it. I know he did, because I hadn’t hidden it and now he had a smirk on his face.

And I felt like he was playing me.

And I did not care.

I pushed it away and grabbed his belt buckle and worked his jeans undone. I went down with the jeans, sultrily, like a burlesque dancer, letting them sit on his thighs, then my hands rose, and I dug my nails into his perfect ass cheeks as I took him deep into the back of my throat. How I didn’t gag, I have no idea. Pure resolve, maybe. But, despite that the round studs on his dick were hitting the back of my throat, I sucked.

“Teeth, Jenna. Fuck,” he growled and pulled my hair back a little.

I deflated and pushed him away and wiped my mouth.

I got to standing and, looking down, avoiding his eyes, I tried to move away. This wasn’t gonna work. He didn’t even like the way I gave blowjobs. And I hated giving blowjobs. Why was I trying to prove something to him?

He wasn’t having it. The me pulling away part. He grabbed my hair and used it to bring my mouth to his. And then he was devouring me with his lips, his tongue.

I whimpered, half with arousal and half with frustration. He spun me to face the wall.

“You want it the way I like it?” He licked my collar bone.

“Rider.” I don’t know why I answered with his name.

“I want it rough, baby. Just a little bit rough. You can handle it, promise.” His mouth was at my ear and I was melting.

“Do it,” I heard myself say, and I was too much of a ball of sensation and firing synapses to think it through.

The yoga pants and panties went down to my ankles and he went down with them and then he bit into my ass cheek.

I jolted. “Ow!”

And then my ass was slapped with a ringing startling slap that made me gasp. He stood and almost immediately, I felt him, sliding between my legs.

“You okay with no condom?”

He’d already fucked me bare so what was the difference? I’d taken my birth control pill that day. I never forgot to take it.

“Hurry,” I demanded.

He slammed inside and then his hand snaked around to my throat and he held it.

“You’re makin’ me fucking crazy, gorgeous girl. Crazy like I’ve never been crazy.”

I whimpered, feeling everything he was giving me. He bit into my neck and I went liquid. My legs were trembling. That little voice in my head was trying to tell me to push him away, to get a grip, but I ignored it.

“You know how crazy you’re making me? I really fuckin’ get off on fightin’ with you, baby. I don’t get off on fightin’ ever. Till you. Never fucked without a condom. Love this. Feeling nothing but you around me.”

I shook my head. “No-ho. Ohgodohgod oh…right there. Right. Fucking. Ah! There!”

“Never been jealous, either. Till you. No one touches you but me. We’re not over, Jenna. We’re just getting started.”

I whimpered. “Uh uh.”

He was slamming into me. This felt so damn dirty. His jeans zipper was cutting into my upper thigh and I didn’t even care. Because, if I complained, he might stop what he was doing, and I did not want it to stop. Maybe not ever. He was hitting my g-spot. His fingers were holding my throat possessively and then his other hand went to my clit and he was pinching it or something and it felt crazy good.

“You really mean it when you say you want us over?” He demanded.

I moaned.

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” I said.

“Then why do you want this?” he demanded, slamming hard into me.

“I… oh fuck…” I was gonna come. This fast.

“Beg me not to stop. Or I’ll stop.”

“Don’t stop. I’m close.”

“I should stop.”

“No…”

“You turn lazy after you come. I think I should keep you on edge until I’m close.”

“No. Don’t stop.”

“Beg.”

I didn’t even hesitate for a split second this time. “Please, Rider. Ride me. Ride me, ride me. Fuck. Don’t stop…”

“No date with Daniel.”

“Nope.”

“Never.”

“Okay.”

“No dates with anyone.”

“Fuck...ah…fuck you,” I grunted, so close, so deliciously close to climaxing.

“Want me to stop?”

“No. Don’t. S-stop. Don’t. Stop.”

He thrust in over and over and over; a punishing rhythm that matched the rhythm of my begging. I heard each slap of skin and grunted in time with it. And then he pulled out and spun me and as his lips crashed into mine, it was a tumble and a cloud of hair and arms and legs, clothes flying off, and cusswords ground out as we hit the bed, my legs thrown up over his shoulders.

He was intently staring into my eyes while driving forward. Hard. So hard. I came, hard. I grabbed his hair and pulled his mouth to mine, crying into it. His eyes looked hard, angry.

I jolted in surprise.

He threw my legs back down, moved closer to my face, grabbed me by the jaw, and then his lips crashed into mine.

“Like to get hate fucked, Jenna?”

I gasped. “What?”

He laughed and tried to kiss me again.

I was about to pull away.

He kissed me anyway, letting go of my jaw to pin both arms over my head. He got them into the grip of one hand. He rammed hard. Then again. Then again, then pulled out.

“Gonna come all over your belly. Gonna write my name on this sweet body with my come. Mark you. Make sure you remember how good dirty can be.”

I was in such shock that I was frozen, mouth open, staring, reeling. Coming to grips with what was happening right here. In disbelief.

And then he stroked his cock with hard, long strokes until streams of his come were landing, warm, on my belly. He was staring at my stomach, not at my face, so he didn’t see what must’ve been horror on it.

And then he leaned over and ran his nose along my jawline and kissed my ear.

He leaned back on his knees and lifted his gaze to me and a smirk on his face melted clean away.

I was just lying there, staring, in shock.

He flinched.

“Jenna…” His eyes softened.

“Hate fuck?” I choked out hoarsely.

I felt my face crumpling.

He shook his head, paling, “It was a joke. It’s not---" He reached for me. “Baby…”

I scampered away, not letting him finish, and yanked my underwear and pants on. I ran to the bathroom and slammed the door and locked it, getting away from him before he could see me fall apart.

I felt the vibration of him pounding his fist against the door twice, but I kept leaning against it. I slid down slowly until I was on the floor, my forehead buried in my knees.

“Baby, don’t take that literally. It’s a game. Angry sex. That’s all. There wasn’t an ounce of hate in that.”

“Fuck you and all your games.” I jumped to my feet and started wiping his jizz off my belly with toilet paper. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Oh no. Shit no. He gave me another damn hickey! It was hideous and big on my neck.

“Gorgeous…”

“Fuck! Off!” I screeched and threw the toilet paper into the toilet and turned the shower on.

I stripped my clothes off, noticing I again only had one sock on. And Jojo’s tank top was half on me, but ripped, ruined. And I got in the shower and bawled while I shampooed my hair and scrubbed my stomach.

I heard an ugly smashing sound. He got in, pulling me into his arms, against his body. I tried to push him away, refusing to meet his eyes so he couldn’t see that I was crying. He tightened his grip on me.

“Talk to me,” he demanded, rubbing his hands up my back. He turned the shower off.

“I don’t wanna talk to you. I’m furious. That you would say that to me? I have a fuck of a lot more respect for myself than to let myself be treated like this. Fucking someone who hates me…”

“I don’t hate you. It wasn’t like that. You gotta know that what I’m feeling is a long fuckin’ way from hate. Hate fucking is just a rougher version of angry sex. It’s a good way to deal with frustration. We’re gonna learn a lot about one another. What I like. What you like. I’m lookin’ forward to it. What we did wasn’t even that. I was only teasin’ because of the way you yanked my hair."

“Not like what you and your biker shithead friends did to that girl? We’re done, Rider. That hate fucking thing was the last of it. So, I hope you enjoyed that shitty Jenna Murdoch lay, because it was the last time you’ll have to endure it.”

He clenched his jaw. “I explained about that gash, Jenna. Is that something you’re gonna throw in my face for the rest of our lives?”

“Do not call women gashes! And what?” I did a double take. “The rest of our…” I frowned.

He smiled deviously.

I shook my head. “Out. I’m pissed at you, Rider. Go.” I pointed.

He took my face into both hands. “Not going.”

“Then I will. I’m going to bunk with Jojo.”

I pulled away and exited the bathroom, which now had a broken door knob, to the suitcase on the floor by the bed and dragged on hot pink cheeky panties with the word PINK in silver glitter on the bum. I hadn’t even taken the tags off. I quickly threw on the first thing I could find. The hoodie. The hoodie. She must’ve put it back in the suitcase she’d packed for me. It was on and I was thinking it needed to come off. I was about to take it back off when he was coming out of the bathroom in a towel. I started dragging my purse and that suitcase out, heading to the next door to the right. In just the hoodie and panties. I banged on the door.

“Jojo!” I hollered.

I saw Brady and that tall bald black guy, Alex or Axis, standing a few doors down in conversation. No. Axel. 

He looked at me quizzically. I think I must’ve said his name as I remembered it. Or maybe he was looking at me like that because I was in my undies.

“Hiya,” I waved and then stomped on by them and banged on the door next door to that. Which door was hers?

The door opened and a sleepy-looking older biker eyed me. And then he smiled a big smile with only a few teeth in his mouth.

Yikes.

“Oops, wrong door,” I muttered and moved along.

“Jenna?” Jojo was popping her head out of the door next to that one. She had red eyes. She’d been crying. I had misty eyes too, but I hadn’t broken down and cried yet.

Rider was coming up behind me, in his half unbuttoned jeans. “You’re in your underwear, baby.”

“Can I sleep here?” I asked Jojo, slapping his hand away.

“But I like the shirt you’re wearing,” he whispered into my ear, sounding like he found me hilarious.

She opened the door wider and I pulled my suitcase and handbag in, seeing we had even more of an audience. Several more bikers were in the hallway. Oh shit, one of them was Deke, Rider’s dad. I hadn’t even properly met him yet and here I was in my underwear with a Property of Rider shirt on.

“No!” I shoved Rider back, “Go hate fuck yourself!”

“Why are you crying? I asked Jojo.

“Luke. It’s just… I read our old texts.” She wiped her eyes. “I don’t wanna talk about it. Why are you crying?”

“Hate sex with your brother,” I said, and she looked like she was going to laugh but then she stopped herself. I realized we still had an audience. I shoved Rider back as hard as I could. “Go!”

He stepped back, and I shut the door.

“Why would he… why did I… oh fuck.” I started to bawl.

“Oh honey…” she hugged me, and we were both bawling in one another’s arms.

“I wasn’t crying. I was holding it. I can’t hold it anymore.”

She nodded.

We both sat and cried a bit, drank some water, and I told her I didn’t want to talk about Rider. She didn’t wanna talk about Luke.

We were in her bed, which was smaller than mine and Rider’s, Marshmallow between us (purring up a storm), and I fell asleep, tears wetting the pillow.