The Ties That Bind 2 by D. A. Young (2)

GLOSSARY

MC: Motorcycle Club

Cut: Leather vest worn by MC members

Patch: An MC’s logo, usually worn on the cut or other identifying club wear and only given to club members who have earned the right to wear it

MC Positions:

• President or Prez: Leader of a local MC chapter
• VP: Vice President and second in command. Will assume leadership duties when the Pres isn’t around or available
• Enforcer: The “muscle” of the MC. They ensure that all rules and procedures of the club are followed, especially in club meetings and functions, and serve as protection for its members against rival MCs
• Members or Patches: Bikers in an MC who has earned the right to wear the club’s cut and/or patch after a suitable timeframe of prospecting. They take part in daily club activities and meetings
• Road Captain:
• Prospect: A literal prospective member of the club who is yet to earn his patch. Prospects are expected to do what they are told and follow the orders of patched members. They must be prepared to do whatever, whenever to prove their loyalty to the club. Prospects have no voting rights and do not attend meetings unless invited in.
• Nomad: Club member who is not patched into any specific chapter of an MC
• Church: An organized meeting of all the patched members of an MC, usually lead by the Prez and/or VP
• Old (Ol’) Lady: A woman who is married or the longtime girlfriend of a patched member
• Sweetheart: Girlfriend of a patched member
• Sweetbutt: Female hanger-on; not in a committed relationship with any club member and is often used for sexual purposes only

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

Chatham, New Mexico

 

The clicking and whirring noises interrupted Billy’s soundless sleep, prompting her to slowly blink her eyes open as she tried to comprehend what was happening. She turned to the left, and the indentation on the pillow was the only clue that Billy hadn’t been alone. Where was Ransom?

Click! Whirrr. Click!

“I should’ve known.” Billy squinted sleepily as she located Ransom across the room with that damned camera in his face. She scowled, her generous mouth poking out, as she pulled the bed sheets over her head and grumbled, “Baaabe! Stop with the pictures already! Don’t you have enough?! Please come back to bed.”

Ransom smiled at her sulking. The pout was a childish gesture, but of course, his fancypants managed to turn it into a seductive one that beckoned him to steal a taste of her luscious, ripe mouth that she knew just how to work for him alone. Ransom’s body tightened in response at the thought.

“I thought I made it clear to you that I’d never have enough of you, Billy,” he replied with a wolfish grin as he focused his camera lens on her perfectly painted red nails and pecan brown skin against the stark white sheets while snapping away. “You never heard the saying ‘you can never have too much of a good thing’?”

Billy lowered her shield slightly to reveal rumpled black waves tumbling over her forehead, slashing black eyebrows, and those luminous orbs that sucker-punched Ransom every time she trained them on him. They were deep pools of onyx inkwells that seemed to swirl with her emotions, like now. Presently, they danced with laughter as she peered at Ransom playfully over the sheet, cocked her head to the side, and silently appraised him. Those enchanting eyes were like a physical caress that caused Ransom’s heart rate to accelerate and his dick to harden.

He still didn’t know how he’d been lucky enough to wind up with this gorgeous woman, but Ransom planned to never let her go. Fuck ‘soulmates’. They were on some deeper shit, and he would go to war with anyone who disrespected or got between them. Billy’s love made Ransom a better man. She believed in him and allowed him to be who he was: a man desperately in love with her but still a ruthless enforcer for The Immortals MC. When he was with her, club business and worries ceased to exist, and he was determined to keep it that way. His baby didn’t need to know all the grim details of his job. Billy just needed to know that he’d take lives before he let any harm come to her.

Ransom smiled as she lowered the bed sheet, even more, to reveal the delicate pendant with the diamond flaming skull emblem hanging from around her neck. Normally, it was tucked underneath her clothing, but when it was just the two of them, his poor Billy often found herself in the precarious position of being naked, wearing only the jewelry he’d given her. The platinum pendant sparkled against her flawless skin and nestled perfectly between her lush breasts that were begging for the attention of his hands and mouth. The chain was impressive but in no way did it rival the rock on her left hand. Ransom had refused a wedding ring, opting for ink instead to proclaim to the world that he belonged to his fancypants. While Ransom insisted on jewelry for his wife, Billy had opposed it vehemently.

“Just never stop loving me,” she’d insisted with a stubborn tilt of her pointed chin. “That’s all I need! You and your love, Ransom Lawson. I don’t need any expensive decrees for the world to know we belong to each other.”

Bullshit. Of course, she’d say that. Billy didn’t need or want anything of monetary value because she was a fucking heiress to a wine empire, not to mention, independently wealthy in her own right.

“Well, it must not be true if you’re all the way over there and I’m in this big bed all by myself,” she teased, wiggling her brows as one hand slipped beneath the sheet. “Come back to bed, my love. You’re sorely missed.”

Ransom set the camera down and approached the bed with purposeful intent. His mission? To make love to his wife, continuing on his quest of ruining her repeatedly for other men. Billy smiled adoringly at him as he approached, and Ransom felt humbled by the glowing expression of love on her face that was exclusively for him. Intense feelings of possessiveness reared up inside of him as Billy allowed him to peel her cover away to reveal her round stomach. She didn’t have too much longer to go now, and he was excited to learn if their first child would be a daughter or son. Billy insisted on the sex being a surprise. And because Ransom could never fucking deny her anything, he went along even though she insisted he could find out just not tell her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him down to her, and Ransom carefully arranged himself between her thighs. “We love you, husband.”

***

Ransom’s eyes flew open at the insistent pounding on his door, and he bit back a stream of profanity, pissed at the interruption of his dream. He struggled to breathe and calm his racing heart simultaneously. Christ, he was a fucking mess. But that’s what Willamina “Billy” Stanton had done to him. Even after leaving Ransom high and dry months ago, she was still an intricate part of him, and he foolishly realized now that she always would be. Billy stole into his dreams every night and seduced him not just with her presence, but a ‘happily ever after’ that Ransom wanted so badly that he would kill for it. He hated her and himself even more because of it.

It wasn’t enough that she’d abandoned him, leaving him a shell of his former self. It was the fact that he couldn’t seem to move past her, no matter how hard he tried with countless nameless, faceless women.

The pounding on the door continued, but Ransom chose to ignore it, already knowing who was on the other side, harassing him at the ass crack of dawn.

“Ummm, should you get that?” a timid worried voice squeaked in his left ear, making Ransom grimace in surprise as he turned to look at the cute brunette occupying his bed, mascara smeared around her large brown eyes, giving her a raccoon-like appearance. “Or do you want me to?”

Damn. Ransom thought she’d left after they fucked, which also meant that she’d broken his cardinal number one rule: leave after fucking. He scratched at his beard thoughtfully. Maybe she didn’t know? Then again, how could she? They’d just met last night. His memories were such a blur, he couldn’t recall if they’d even had the discussion. What exactly did happen last night? Ransom remembered celebrating with his club at one of the their establishments, Club Flex because he was selected by his father and Prez, Slade, to help out another chapter of The Immortals.

“I’ll get it. I’m sure it’s just Shakes.” This new voice came from Ransom’s right, startling the fuck out of him. He twisted his head in that direction and saw Minnie, a buzzed cut blonde that he’d been fucking with for over a month now on the regular, lying next to him with her eyes closed. Well, hell. She was a stripper at Flex with a banging body that was all natural. Slowly, Minnie opened her brown eyes and winked at Ransom. “Before you go all apeshit about us being here, you were the one who insisted we stay. Said you’d make it worth our while.”

Ransom grinned as flashbacks started to roll in. “And did I live up to my end of the bargain?”

Minnie rolled to her knees and stretched, giving the bed’s other two occupants a show of her tanned, lithe form, large, impressive tits, and pussy covered by a fine thatch of golden hair. “Damned straight you did, lover.” She pressed a swift kiss to Ransom’s neck then leaning over him, she gave a lingering one to the receptive brunette’s mouth before climbing over both of them. “And then you insisted on us giving you a show. Haven’t done that in a while, but I’m happy to report that Katy here is no longer a virgin when it comes to women, right Katy?”

Ransom was amused at the scarlet flush racing up the brunette’s neck. It didn’t stop until it reached her hairline. Minnie leaned down and kissed her again, this time more thoroughly, and Katy wound her arms around her neck with a soft moan. Minnie broke the kiss and grinned at Ransom. “Who would have thought the ‘Ms. Priss’ school teacher was a secret freak for some girl-on-girl action, right?”

Aaaah, now he remembered everything in vivid detail.

The pounding increased and both Ransom and Katy turned to enjoy the view of Minnie’s backside as she went to answer the door still naked. She opened it and Shakes almost hit her in the face with his raised fist. “Fucking good morning to you too, Gomez.”

“Holy shit, Minnie!” Lucas “Shakes” Gomez exclaimed as he thoroughly eye-fucked her, his stare zeroing in on her crotch with a smirk. “I knew you were a natural blonde.”

“Yeah, and you fucking act like one, asshole!” she retorted, punching him in the shoulder before turning away from the big black-haired biker. Minnie was pissed that Shakes, in the three years that they’d known each other, was able to remain immune to her obvious assets. “Come on, Katy, let’s go and grab some breakfast.”

The brunette turned back to Ransom, who steeled himself at her hopeful smile and glazed starry eyes. “Uh-I’d like to see you again. Should I leave my number? You can call if you want to, which I hope you will. Or maybe I can call y—”

Minnie slapped her hand over Katy’s mouth and urged her out of the bed. She giggled at Ransom’s pained expression. “Don’t worry; I’ll school her on your rules, baby.” She sighed lustily as she rumpled Ransom’s hair. “But, damn, can you really blame her?”

The women gathered their clothes and quickly dressed. Embarrassed by her faux pas, Katy left without looking at either man while Minnie lingered to wrap her arms around Shakes’ waist. With a calculated look, she offered, “I’m free later if you wanna swing by and see what you’ve been missing out on?”

Shakes removed her arms with a shake of his head and covered his nose. “Damn, girl. At least brush the dick out of your mouth before you go around propositioning folks.”

“Fuck you, Shakes! I didn’t want to see your little dick anyway!” Minnie seethed, shoving him away from her.

“Not even if we were both wearing hazmat suits and God proclaimed you a reborn virgin, Minnie,” Shakes returned seriously. “And my shit would only seem ‘little’ to someone whose pussy has been stretched wider than the Grand Canyon.”

Ransom waited until the women left to address his best friend. “The fuck, man?” he chuckled. “Why’d you have to go at her like that? You’ve had a hard-on for her since she arrived, and I ain’t talkin’ about your dick, brother. What gives?”

Shakes' face reflected the disgust he felt. “That bitch is an opportunist, and you’re giving her exactly what she wants by fucking with her. I hope you’re the one providing the condoms because I bet she wouldn’t hesitate to screw you to the wall in more ways than one if the opportunity was provided.”

Ransom swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “But that’s all I’m doing with her and shit yeah, I’m the one handling the condoms! I’d never trust a female to do that.”

Shakes relaxed. “As long as you ain’t hittin’ shit raw is all I’m sayin’. Chicks these days can look like “Mary Poppins”, but are more radioactive than Chernobyl wastelands between their thighs.”

Ransom laughed with his friend, but he was savoring a memory. One of him being tangled up with Billy to the point that he didn’t know where he ended and she began. It was the last time they made love, and Ransom intentionally went bareback. Knowing that he couldn’t give her what they both wanted, he’d wanted to leave something of himself behind. Ransom was partially ashamed to admit that he’d hoped to plant a seed to tie her to him in some way. It was a dick move, straight up, and one he wasn’t particularly proud of. But still…that damn dream…that was all it was, though, and he’d best remember it.  

Abruptly, he changed the subject. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Pops said we got twelve cars to load down, so our asses need to be at the shop ASAP. Afterwards, I thought I’d swing by the Inferno for lunch,” Shakes said casually.

“Motherfucker, you just wanna sit your pretty ass up there and make goo-goo eyes at Lorelai. You need to cut that shit out before Marcus blows your fucking balls off,” Ransom direly warned his friend, trying to ignore the sharp pang of acknowledgment Marcus’s association to Billy caused.

“Why don’t you come with me to make sure I’m on my best behavior?” Shakes suggested hopefully then wheedled at Ransom’s stoic look, “Come on, man! It’s been five months since you set foot in there! The place ain’t the same without you, brother. Marcus and Lorelai ask about you every time I go in there! Why don’t you come and put their minds at ease?”

Although he’d known the older man long before Billy came into the picture, Ransom had avoided Marcus like the plague since he confessed to Ransom that she skipped town without saying goodbye. As if Chatham wasn’t small enough, to begin with, now Ransom’s free time was restricted to either the strip club or the clubhouse to kick back and blow off steam or one of his day trips exploring. It was best for everyone as far as Ransom was concerned. He needed no extra reminders of Billy.

As if you could ever forget her, his conscience taunted.

“Nah, I’m good.” Ransom stood up and stretched before grabbing a towel from a clean stack on his dresser, courtesy of his mother, Claudia. “I’ll see you at the shop.”

“Make sure you scrub real hard and wash all that random pussy off you.”

“You know good and well if Tia Lucy wasn’t my godmother and liked looking at you, I’d fuck you up, right?”

Shakes snorted, but he didn’t joke like he normally did. “Yo, for real, how long you gonna keep this shit up? So you got hit with some rock-bottom pussy. Big deal! Shake that shit—”

Ransom interrupted him to scoff, “Rock-bottom pussy? What the fuck is that?”

“Some shit that’s so good that you’ll never recover from it,” Shakes informed him with a sly grin that earned him two stiff middle fingers from Ransom. “Maybe you just need to go find her…”

His voice trailed off at Ransom’s closed off expression and suddenly tense posture. “The fuck I look like chasing after some broad, Shakes? She made her choice. Now, change the subject ‘cause this shit ain’t up for discussion.”

“You didn’t exactly offer her an incentive to stay or continue the relationship,” Shakes reminded him quietly, treading with a little more caution in the face of Ransom’s growing wrath. He raised his hands defensively as his friend’s eyes dangerously turned a darker hue of green. “I’m just sayin’ that maybe things would have played out differently if you did. Like, if you’d said ‘I wanna see where this could go.’ Why would she hang around if there was nothing in it for her? Billy wasn’t like these other broads we’re used to.”

“Jesus Christ, you sound like one of those fucking Harlequin romances our moms used to have their noses buried in, asshole!” Ransom mocked him. “I didn’t offer her shit because she doesn’t belong here!”

Ransom kicked his boots out of his path viciously, and they bounced against the wall. “I’m going to be the next president of this club, and she’s not ‘club’ material and never will be! Maybe if shit was different, I’d have wanted more than a summer, but it ain’t, so leave it the fuck alone, man. I’m good.”

“Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that, Ransom,” Shakes’ lips twisted in disappointment as he changed the subject. “I still can’t believe Harley left like that as well, and with Pitch of all people! I haven’t been real vocal on the subject, but with that shitbag by his side, you know they can’t be up to any good.”

“Like I don’t fucking know that? He’s a grown man. Let him stand on his own two feet. I was tired of cleaning up after his dumbass anyway,” Ransom said coolly. He refused to dwell on the fact that he’d been abandoned not only by Billy but his identical twin brother as well. He’d been so angry and resentful of his older brother’s selfish and reckless ways, the toll of constantly watching out for Harley and cleaning up his messes had come to a head this past summer. The blowup was vicious, and nothing brothers should ever have to go through, but necessary as Harley’s recklessness cost Ransom the only girl he’d ever loved.

Fuck. Love. If he ever got his hands on Cupid, he was going to choke the little asshole out. Love had him feeling like he’d been hit with an incurable virus. Ransom would rather take a fatal bullet than experience this never-ending hell again. He shook his head as if to ward off the onslaught of the vivid memories that continuously tortured him but was unsuccessful.

Billy’s laugh and smile. Peeling her clothes away as if unwrapping the most precious and invaluable package to reveal the treasure that was his alone underneath the layers. Long hours of lovemaking so sweet, dirty, and gratifying, it was enough to bring him to his knees. Ransom still remembered her fevered whispers of ‘I love yous’ their last night together. Typical Billy. So loving and generous, even in the face of his rejection. In spite of it and the hurt she had to be feeling, Billy had still given herself to Ransom selflessly, and like a bastard, he’d taken her selfishly while allowing her to spoil him with the words that at the time, he couldn’t reciprocate. She’d imprinted those three words on his soul, giving him hope for a future that couldn’t be for them, but the next morning, she was gone without a word to anyone but her father.

“Harley’s doing what he thinks he has to do right now, which is look out for number one,” Ransom said tonelessly. “Wherever he’s at, I hope to God he hasn’t become unhinged and had the sense to go his separate way from Pitch. This bullshit is fucking with my fam and has caused a big strain on our mother and Prez as well. Everything’s changed, and we just need to push through and keep going. There’s gotta be a light at the end of this fucking tunnel.”

Shakes picked up Ransom’s Nikon camera from the dresser. “Is this going with you? You’ve gotten really good with this shit.” He set the camera down and picked up some black and white photos Ransom had taken of the indigenous people and their adobe homes in Albuquerque. His whistle was lengthy and full of admiration at the raw emotion and regal bearing of the tribes Ransom had captured. “Brother, this stuff needs to be hanging in someone’s office or gallery. Anything’s better than laying in stacks on your dresser!”

Photography was a passion of Ransom’s, and he’d taken some classes on it while in college but hadn’t really done anything with his skills until Billy arrived. She restored his passion and he’d become obsessed with taking pictures of her but had yet to capture her in stillness. It shouldn’t have surprised Ransom. Billy was mercurial, sudden, and unpredictable. He had rolls of undeveloped film of her many sides: vulnerable, passionate, humorous, irritated, and seductive. When she left, he’d expected his interest to wane, but instead, it increased. Ransom spent his spare time taking covert pics of people around him, Chatham, and wherever else his bike took him. The camera didn’t lie, and the truth could always be found through the lens.

Ransom picked up his latest work that he’d just developed yesterday. It was a candid black and white photo of his mother, Claudia, at their bonfire last week. She was beautiful as always, but in this photo, Ransom had exposed her pain, anger, resentment, and loneliness, all highlighted by the fire she was staring into, deep in thought. What was also significant was that she stood on the outskirts of the fire and not by her rightful place at the Prez’s side. Was her divisive stance deliberate? The tight lines at the corners of her moss-green eyes, so like his, and her full mouth drawn into a compressed line were so out of character for his vivacious mother that Ransom was compelled to capture her emotions.

Something was going on with his parents, but Ransom had been so caught up in his own shit that he hadn’t really noticed until last week. His mother hadn’t left the compound, to his knowledge, in a month. The only time he’d really seen her was at the clubhouse, going through checklists and doing housekeeping inspections or when Ransom stopped by the house and she made him a meal. Guess they’d both been too preoccupied with their own thoughts to make more than small talk. He planned to address it before leaving town. Ransom’s instincts told him it had everything to do with Slade; he wasn’t surprised.

Didn’t everything revolve around that fucking asshole?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

Slade Lawson’s eyes flickered open, but it wasn’t from the restless sleep that had plagued him for the last five months. It was also from the lack of aromas that signaled he’d have to fend for himself for breakfast again, as well as lunch and dinner. He stared up at the ceiling, not bothering to turn his head to the right side of the bed, knowing that the space Claudia, his wife of over two decades, had faithfully occupied would be empty as it had been for several months.

Since discovering his extramarital dalliance, Claudia had checked out of her rightful place in his bed. Publicly she was still present and handling the head Ol’ Lady aspect of things, like making sure the families were taken care of, the clubhouse had everything the MC needed, and keeping the house mice in line. But behind closed doors, it was a different matter altogether.

Claudia refused to cook unless Ransom came over. She slept in their bed but was always gone before Slade woke up. She also had nothing to say to him if it didn’t pertain to the club and avoided him whenever possible. Gone was his passionate and affectionate wife, who was always ready to take his dick whenever and wherever Slade whipped it out. Ordinarily, Claudia couldn’t get enough of him. Hell, there’d been numerous occasions when Slade wasn’t even the one who initiated sex and had woken up to the sweet pull of Claudia’s mouth around his cock as she deep-throated him. The entire time they’d known each other, Claudia had never let him walk out the door without serving him a generous helping of pussy either. Now she could barely stomach being in the same room with him.

His ol’ lady also had a mouth on her and was very vocal in expressing herself, but these days, Slade might as well have been living with a fucking mute. It didn’t matter if he sweet-talked her, goaded, or attempted to instigate an argument, Claudia had nothing for him. She’d always treated him like a king with her pampering and worshipping, but now, all Slade felt like was a goddamn chump. He was short-tempered with his men, employees, and customers at Lawson’s Automotive and Club Flex, causing people to avoid interactions with him if they could help it. Aside from Claudia, the only people who didn’t give two shits about his surly behavior were his VP, Blaze, his wife Lucy, their son Shakes, and Slade’s youngest son, Ransom. His older son, Harley, Ransom’s identical twin brother, wasn’t around but even if he was, the little weasel wouldn’t be man enough to stand up to Slade like Ransom did.

The cordless phone on the nightstand rang, and Slade rolled over to grab it. “Yeah?”

“Just checkin’ to see if you were still alive. That was a shitload of liquor you kicked back at Inferno last night. Your liver has to be on its death bed with the way you been goin’ at bottles of Jimmy and Jack.” Blaze’s voice was laced with concern for his oldest friend. “We got a shipment comin’ in this mornin’. You gonna be here in time or let the kid handle it?”

“I’ll be in, but if it gets there before I do, show Ransom the ropes. You hear from Raze yet?”

Raze was the president of The Immortals northern California chapter. He’d reached out to Slade, requesting assistance with a security job. Their club had recently taken a hit with law enforcement, and at least ten of its members were locked up. Other chapters were stepping up to help out as well.

“Yeah, he said whatever we could spare. I think it’ll be a good experience for the youngster. Not to mention new pussy,” Blaze snorted. “Ransom has pretty much torn through everything like a fucking tornado around here that isn’t nailed down by a cut, except the brothel. You coming to dinner tonight? Lucy is making baked spaghetti and meatballs and garlic bread.”

“Shit yeah, brother. If an extra plate ain’t too much trouble and Lucy hasn’t decided today is the day to poison me,” Slade joked, only half kidding.

“Well, what the fuck did you think was gonna happen when you shitted all over her best friend?” Blaze snapped in his woman’s defense. “Shit, man, they’re practically sisters, and your kids are my kids and vice versa! This affects us all. Which is another reason why again, you don’t fuck around in your own backyard, Slade! Leave that shit on the road.”

“It don’t matter. Claudia’s a fucking bloodhound. She always knows,” Slade muttered, throwing his arm over his eyes. “I could fuck a martian on the moon and she’d find out.”

“Then maybe you should just stop doing it,” Blaze growled, frustrated by his friend’s cluelessness. “Eventually, women get tired of the bullshit. They either break, snap, or worse - get distant and leave your ass all alone. Do you know where your ol’ lady’s head is at right now?”

Distant was what Slade was dealing with right now. All of this drama because he’d decided to treat some bitch to a charity fuck. Slade hadn’t even bothered to learn her name. The only thing he knew was that she was a hot piece of snatch looking to add some MC cock to her pussy’s resume. As Prez of The Immortals, Slade felt it was his moral obligation to satisfy her.

She’d practically devoured him with her lips, sucking on his dick while allowing Slade to fuck her bouncy tits until he treated her to a cum facial. Slade then rewarded ‘diner girl’ by flipping her on all fours and doing her up the ass. Was it really cheating if you didn’t slide into the pussy? It was a meaningless way to pass the time while the carnival was packing up and forgotten as soon as his nut was busted. ‘Diner girl’ was still twitching and jerking on his dick while Slade was wondering if Claudia would make him a late-night snack when he arrived home.

He decided to change the subject. “Tell Lucy I’d appreciate a homecooked meal.” But Slade couldn’t resist wistfully adding, “You know, Claudia makes a killer chopped Italian salad that would go great with it.”

“Which is why she’s bringing it,” Blaze cheerfully responded. “Unlike you, she was invited, but I wasn’t going to leave you to fend for yourself. Later, brother.”

So, now he was a fucking pity invite? Enraged, Slade grabbed his pillow and threw it across the room where it knocked their wedding picture of the dresser. Pity was not something he loved. He needed to take a piss. Slade flung the covers back and went to relieve himself, brush his teeth, and shower before going to find his wife. As he walked down the hallway to the stairs, Slade truly noticed for the first time just how much time and effort Claudia spent into making their house a home over the years. The hallway was lined with family photos as well as club members and their families. Somehow, Claudia had managed to capture a softer side of his brothers that was rarely demonstrated as they had a ruthless reputation to uphold.

The Immortals family tree was steeped in iniquity, stemming from the long-twisted roots that ran as deep as the ocean in forgery, protective services to the highest bidder, and selling to smuggling drugs as well as firearms. The MC way of life wasn’t for the faint of heart, which was the reason nine-to-five jobs were held by spineless government bureaucrats. The only thing The Immortals didn’t have their hands in for business was women. Pussy was for pleasure only. They didn’t hurt women unless a female liked it that way; that was an iron-clad rule. The irony that Slade continued to assault his wife’s heart with his selfish callous ways escaped him completely.

The kitchen was empty, but signs that Claudia had been there were everywhere. The blinds were open, the back door unlocked, and the coffee pot was still brewing, but there was no indication of a meal made or that one was about to be prepared. Goddamnit, this shit ended today. Slade was tired of having to fend for himself at home and trying to overcome the barrier Claudia had put between them. It was time to remind her that no matter what hand was played, a king always trumped a fucking queen.

Slade snatched the door open and stepped out into the bright but frigid November morning. He guesstimated it to be about forty-five degrees right now and would probably only reach about sixty degrees today, which was normal this time of the year in Chatham. Barefoot, Slade stepped out in only a black tank top and well-worn jeans. He’d lived in New Mexico all his life, so the cold didn’t bother him, but the slow burn freeze-out Claudia was deliberately treating him too was fucking with him heavily.

Slade found her sitting with her back to him at the wrought-iron patio table she’d convinced him to buy years ago at a flea market in Albuquerque when they were newlyweds. Slade had considered it to be a piece of junk, but Claudia brought it home and lovingly cleaned it up then painted it canary yellow. Over the years, the colors changed to turquoise, then cobalt blue, and now, to its present color of lime green. Claudia loved color, and the proof of that ran along the adobe walls of their backyard.

In great detail, she’d painstakingly used assorted colored glass and beads to recreate New Mexico’s nature - cacti in bloom, roadrunners, desert cottontail, and kit foxes peeking and staring with lifelikeness between the jewel-like greenery. The backyard was done in rock landscape with pavers separated by towering yucca and ocotillo plants. Again, Claudia’s dedication in making this home an oasis for their family away from the club was brought to Slade’s attention.

Guilt settled in his chest, and he hated the oppressed feeling weighing him down. Slade pulled out a cigarette and lit it up, taking deep drags off it and allowing the nicotine to soothe his frazzled nerves. Pussy was a part of this life, and even at an early age, Slade understood it was his right to indulge when offered and wherever he liked, like his father and grandfather before him. His mother and grandmother had accepted it without blinking an eye, but not the hellion he’d married. She was a territorial scrapper and admittedly to Slade, nothing was hotter than seeing his sexy wife kicking ass and taking names, getting all fired up over her man.

Maybe that’s what it was for him? The attention. He was getting older and had strapping sons to remind him of that fact. Eventually, he’d be succeeded by Ransom then left to do what? Grow old with Claudia in her garden with daisies pushing out of his ass? Slade would cut off his own balls before he let that happen. Bitches fawning over him reminded Slade of his virility. He’d do anything to hold on to that feeling and still planned to get his wife back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THREE

 

Claudia felt him behind her and forced herself to stifle back her aggravation at his presence. Those blue eyes that used to make her heart flutter and stir her blood were boring into the back of her head, raising her ire even more. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? Hadn’t she made it abundantly clear that she wanted nothing more to do with his adulterous grease monkey ass?

“What are you doin’ out here in just your nightgown, Claudia? You’re gonna catch a cold,” Slade remarked gruffly. “Come back inside.”

“This is my time of day for reflection.” She refused to give him the satisfaction of turning to address him. Claudia’s days of catering to his every need were forever gone and she just wanted peace and silence. “Was there something you needed?”

No answer.

Claudia waited impatiently for him, but Slade chose to remain silent. Just another one of his antics to force her hand. Suddenly he whispered in her ear, shrouding her in cigarette smoke, “Yeah, there is. I need you to remove that stick from up your ass so we can get on with our lives, baby. Quit actin’ like such a cunt and let me make it up to you.”

Do. Not. React. Do not give him what he wants.

Claudia was a lady, raised a princessa, but a fighter by birthright first. You didn’t turn the other cheek for any disrespect no matter how slight, where she came from. Her brothers had taught her how to fight, and she received no leniency from them. Loving this manipulative asshole had weakened Claudia and made her lose sight of who she was at her core before meeting Slade. This man had caused an unnatural divide not only between him and his children but directly between his twin sons, all while sleeping peacefully at night. He didn’t give a damn about her, Harley’s, or Ransom’s feelings. Slade was only happy when the shit pot was stirred, and Claudia refused to give him the satisfaction of her anger.

She stood up and Slade devoured the image of her enticing body in the long, semi-sheer peach nightgown that she’d paired with shearling boots. Full breasts strained against the fabric, reminding Slade of how long it had been since he’d seen or touched. Perfectly shaped dark nipples that he was salivating to taste again revealed how cold it really was out here. Slade was disappointed when she gathered the plaid blanket she’d been sitting on around her slender shoulders and covered herself from his view.

Claudia’s lovely face was devoid of makeup, and her dark hair fell to her breasts. She looked as youthful and innocent as the day they’d met. Except in her aged green eyes. That was where all the damage Slade inflicted upon her lay for him to witness, bottomless depths, challenging him to acknowledge just how much he’d wronged her. Claudia was so fucking beautiful that it hurt Slade’s black, jaded heart to look at her. Once more, he felt the guilt assailing him, wrapping around him like a chain, linking him to a conscience he’d buried long ago.

“There’s nothing to make up to me or move past. You’ve shown me exactly where I stand with you. You and I are good, Prez,” Claudia replied in a neutral voice. She was shocked at the realization that she felt nothing but contempt for this man she’d devoted over half of her life to. Slade was sex personified with his penetrating blue eyes and strong Nordic features. His long blonde hair and beard might be heavily threaded with silver, but he kept his big, brawny body in supreme shape. But none of it appealed to her any longer. She was on a different path now, and Slade was coming to that realization also.

Prez. Not babe, mi esposo, my king, or any of the other names she whispered seductively in his ear, firing up his blood while they made love. Something akin to fear trickled down his spine, and Slade ground his smoke in the ashtray Claudia kept on the table for him and the boys. He grabbed her arm as she made to pass him and Claudia stiffened at his touch. The chains of guilt loosened at her repelled expression. “Release me.”

“Release you?” Slade towered over her, purposefully reminding her that in his eyes they weren’t equal. “NEVER. I’m your fucking husband, Claudia! For better or worse, those were the vows we took or did you forget? You knew what you were signing up for with me!”

All tethers on her control snapped in the face of his bold audacity, and Claudia hauled back and slapped Slade’s face. His head jerked back at the blow, but still, he held onto her. How dare he talk to her about their marriage vows! “And I’ve experienced both with you! Now, unless you’d like me to make the ‘death do us part’ vow a reality, you’ll keep your hands to yourself, Slade!

You couldn’t even say you were sorry or that you fucked up and were wrong without trying to justify your behavior! But I don’t even give a damn nor do I want your apologies. Any apology you’ve ever given has always been full of deflections!” Angrily, Claudia held up her index finger to him. “Once is a mistake, anything after that is a choice, and your sorry ass knows it, so don’t come slinking around me because I’m not interested!”

Slade’s grip tightened painfully, but he gave no indication that he was aware of it when she winced. “You’re my wife, Claudia! I need—”

But Claudia refused to let him go on a sanctimonious rant. He wouldn’t be laying any guilt trips at her feet today or any other day going forward. Eyes full of toxin and her lips twisted with bitterness, she pushed at him, hissing, “Exactly what do you need, asshole?! You want a meal? Go see your whore at the diner. Some relief for that dirty, nasty-ass dick of yours? Go see your whore at the diner. Dumb pussy to be impressed by the bullshit that continuously spews out of your mouth? Go see your whore at the diner. Are you understanding me now, Slade? Everything you need can be found at the diner. There is nothing for you here.”

Claudia rose on her tiptoes smiling brightly in Slade’s face. His grip loosened at the ‘fuck you’ in both her eyes and smile that she graced him with. “I want a relationship and love that I can be proud, confident, and secure in! You fall severely short in each category and I refuse to make myself more for your shortcomings! I don’t owe you shit, Slade Lawson, and don’t you dare try to insinuate that I do!”

Slade’s hand fell away from her soft skin in surprise at her words that rang with decisiveness, her hatred of him shining in her cold eyes. The pain in his chest from his breaking heart was an affirmation that unlike his club’s name and his status, Slade was indeed mortal and bled like everyone else.

Claudia used the opportunity to snatch her arm back, leaving Slade standing there shell-shocked at her confession as she entered the house. She felt nothing but relief that she could finally say what was in her heart after months of giving him the cold shoulder. Claudia rubbed her arm, needing to erase his touch. A shower was urgently required.

She entered the bedroom and locked the door then headed to the bathroom and locked that door as well. She turned on the shower, allowing the water to heat while shedding her nightgown and panties before stepping into the stall. Claudia tilted her head back and closed her eyes, allowing her thoughts to be redirected to a memory that was always hovering in the back of her mind. It was from a night a month ago. She’d made an outrageous demand and was rewarded generously for her boldness.

Claudia smoothed her hands over her arms, running them over the battle scars inflicted from her husband’s extramarital activities. What the hell had she ever been fighting for? she wondered. A man who didn’t respect what she’d been trying for years to build with him? A worthless father who’d done more damage than good to her children? Tears blurred with the water, and she was reminded of the last time she’d allowed herself to give in to them.

“You’re a fucking lioness, Mamacita.”

The utter conviction in those words, followed by reaffirming caresses and kisses placed on every one of her old wounds, made Claudia feel reborn. Tears streamed from her eyes, and Marcus kissed those away as well before covering her body with his. Claudia clung to him like he was her lifeline as her lover once more propelled her to heights of pleasure she’d never known existed.

Jesus, she missed him, and no, the enormity of what they’d indulged in didn’t fill her with guilt. Fuck. No. After everything Slade had put her through, Claudia was deserving of that night. Any guilt she felt was because she wanted to do it again, and again, and God yes, again. It was the reason she’d hardly left the compound. For fear she’d seek Marcus “Rage” Glover out. In bed, he was simply Marcus. Outside of it, he was Rage, making it easier for Claudia to differentiate the two in the double life she was now leading. They’d spent one glorious evening together, and Claudia was now experiencing withdrawal symptoms of crackhead proportions. Deep-seated aches, shakes, and pangs that were unbearable but thankfully oblivious to the untrained eyes around her. Just thinking of the way he did her body aroused and overheated her uncontrollably. His tongue, that cock…Claudia switched the water to cool and welcomed the stinging icy spray to soothe the heat of desire the memories evoked.

Another reason for her self-imposed exile was Lorelai. Claudia felt like shit as she knew firsthand what it was like to be the one who got cheated on. But it didn’t stop her from wanting Rage. God, she was tired of being so lonely! Tired of this growing void that could only be filled by someone who wasn’t hers to want. Just once more, she wanted to feel all of Rage—

BOOM!

The bathroom door being kicked open forced Claudia back to reality, and she stepped away from the spray, swiping the water from her face to see a livid Slade removing his clothes. Claudia threw the bar of soap at his head and screeched, “Get your ass outta here! Now, Slade!”

He dodged the soap and ignored her command, advancing forward with ruthless fortitude. Claudia tried to step out of the shower, but he blocked her path and forced her back in against the tiled wall. The ineffective punches she threw slid off his wet skin. Slade wrapped a hand around her throat and lifted her, hiking one leg up and pinning her in place. Cerulean eyes raging with fury and determination, and blonde hair plastered to his head and shoulders, Slade’s roar echoed, bouncing around the bathroom. “Don’t you ever try to keep barriers between us, Mrs. Lawson! You forgot your place and it’s time I reminded you exactly who you belong to!”

He bit her earlobe as he plunged into her sheath with an ease that made Claudia scream with frustration as he used her body’s natural response to his ministrations against her. Slade hissed with pleasure at the feel of her convulsing around him, causing his legs to lock in place. Finally. It was like coming home. “Don’t ever think you can deny me this sweet pussy, wife, or lie and say there’s nothing left for me here. You’re soaking wet for my dick! Now it’s time to stop playing games and let me give us what we both want.”

Suddenly, Claudia didn’t feel as empty inside as Slade began to move with a force that should have put her through the wall. The familiarity of his dick inside of her wasn’t as repulsive as she’d thought. It was comparable in size to her most recent experience but still not quite as thick. If she closed her eyes, the experience suddenly became more intensely pleasurable. The image she conjured up wasn’t Slade in her arms, driving into her body or suckling her nipples greedily. Instead, the head that she gripped was now bald and smooth, skin a deeper tawny hue, and the beard against her flesh, soft, chest-length, and black. It stirred her desire like nothing else and made her more amorous.

The image she’d conjured up was of Marcus Glover.

“Si, fuck me just like that, mi amor,” Claudia begged, wrapping her leg around his waist, prompting him to lift her other leg and do the same. She was delirious with ecstasy as she listened to ‘Marcus’ vowing his love for her, her pussy, and that she was the only woman he wanted by his side. He went harder, and she readily accepted all he had to give. Spots danced behind Claudia’s eyelids as her body primed itself for what promised to be her most intense orgasm yet, which she encouraged, “Si mi amor! Harder! Si! Just like that, mi amor!”

Claudia was so fucking wet, Slade was practically floating in her arousal. She’d never been this responsive and that was saying a lot as she was ardent by nature. Staring down into her lovely face, he fell a little bit more in love with her as he watched Claudia’s tightly shut eyes and the incoherent frenzied moans she emitted while biting down on her bottom lip and opening up more for him to fuck her with everything he had.

Claudia couldn’t get enough of the way ‘Marcus’ was loving her. She rotated her hips, tightening her muscles around his shaft as he beat relentlessly on her g-spot. Suddenly, her world imploded, and he allowed her to ride the wave endlessly before catching it and succumbing to his own release, cumming deep inside of her with powerful surges that triggered one last orgasm from her, propelling Claudia to scream, “Ma-”

But it was cut short by his tongue snaking between her lips. Thank God for that, because Claudia knew as her fantasy mirage vanished and she opened her eyes with dismay to find her husband staring at her, victorious smirk in place, that if she’d even have finished screaming Marcus, both she and the bar owner were as good as dead.

“I’m glad you finally stopped playing hard to get, babe,” Slade huffed, arrogance radiating from his spent form. “Now, let’s take this show into the bedroom for the next couple of rounds. You’re about to make up for lost time with my neglected ‘dirty’ dick.”

Claudia felt him swelling inside of her once more, and she wasn’t sure who she despised most: herself for being so weak or him for addicting her so that she’d fallen back in her husband’s arms. Slade grunted and Claudia flushed with resentment at indirectly fueling Slade’s ego as she coated him with fresh arousal from the thought of the only man she wanted inside of her.

Damn Marcus Glover to hell.

***

 

“Raze, is a solid leader, but you ain’t a slouch yourself, kid,” Slade reminded Ransom as he watched his son strap his duffle bag to his Harley later that night. Puffs of cold air punctuated his words, and in the distance, coyotes yipped. “Go up there and represent us right. Do me a favor and keep your dick zipped up.” Under his breath, Slade muttered, “God knows I ain’t a fucking boy scout or one to talk, but you can take it from me. Groupie snatch is overrated and everyone knows bikers are bitch magnets. Once you’ve sampled some, believe me, you’ve sampled it all. Pussy can wait. Feel me?”

Ransom managed to swallow the retort on the tip of his tongue. This wasn’t his hound dog father lecturing but his president. A fact that was hard to distinguish between when you’d listened to your mother crying and witnessed her pain over repeated marital transgressions. “Copy that, Prez.”

Slade reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick roll of cash. “Here. I know we’re all family, and they’ll take good care of you up there, but never let it be said that I can’t take care of mines.”

“Prez, I can’t take that. I’ve got my own money,” Ransom objected, estimating that it was easily three thousand dollars. “You know I don’t have shit to spend it on, so I’ll be alright. Just put it back in the vault for insurance. Shit gets a little rowdy on a full moon, one of these motherfuckers is bound to need it soon.”

But Slade wouldn’t hear of it, thrusting the wad at Ransom’s chest. “I appreciate the concern, but the coffers are overflowing and don’t have anything to do with this. This is from me.” His steely blue eyes met his son’s surprised green ones as Ransom reluctantly took the money from him.

“I appreciate it.” Ransom pocketed it as Slade continued to speak, planning to donate it the first chance he got.

“No, I appreciate you stepping up and doing what needs to be done. That’s what a leader should do, and when I step down, this club will need a strong one to guide them. Your brother is gone, and as far as I’m concerned, he can stay gone. He’s got too much woman in him and would never have been able to lead effectively, and we both know it. He’s too emotional and always has been.”

“Are you saying that if Harley comes back, he’s not welcome?!” The question was harshly demanded by Claudia, who’d come up behind her husband to say goodbye to Ransom. Furious, she grabbed his arm like he’d grabbed hers this morning. “Because if that’s what you’re saying Prez,” she sneered, her nails digging into his leather jacket, “then I’m no longer welcome here either!”

“Now’s not the time, Claudia! This is club business,” Slade snapped at her, the good feelings from this morning gone. “You don’t have a say in it.”

“Like hell, I don’t! You’re the reason Harley has issues! All his life you poked and prodded at him with your cruel words and barbs, never giving him a chance!” Claudia stabbed her finger into his chest viciously. “I’m warning you that if Harley comes back and you gun for him, you will regret it, Slade!”

Slade grabbed her hand and flung it away. “Don’t you ever threaten me, Claudia! Or so help me God—”

“I can guarantee God won’t be available to show you any mercy.”

Claudia and Slade froze at Ransom’s interjection. In the stark moonlight, their son looked older and hardened as he icily assessed his father. To Claudia, he instructed, “Ma, go inside; it’s freezing out here.”

To Slade, Ransom’s words were brisk and concise. “If Harley decides to come back, he gets to stay. There won’t be any shunning, baiting, or shoving your dick down his throat every time he opens his mouth. He gets a chance to prove himself with no beef. Understood?”

He was fucking serious, Slade realized. Ransom’s expression was carved in stony finality and he knew the sonofabitch well enough to comprehend what wasn’t being said. Ransom would walk if he and Claudia didn’t get their way. Harley, that sniveling turd won again while hiding behind these two. But Slade refused to acknowledge the corner he was being backed into. “Since it’s a club matter, I say we take this to church and get a vote.”

“You sure you wanna do that?” Ransom drawled laconically. “I’m tryna save you some face here, Prez.”

They both knew the outcome wouldn’t be what Slade desired. He was all too aware of the disapproval of his treatment of Harley, but few motherfuckers had the balls to say it outright. Ransom was unyielding, but Slade saw an opportunity to still get something he wanted out of this shit fest. He wouldn’t be the only one backed into a corner. To Claudia, whose expression went from smug to wary under his piercing assessment, Slade slyly offered, “I do this, and my slate is wiped clean with you? No more of your bitching and we get on with our lives! Take it or leave it.”

Bastard, Claudia raged internally. Everything was a power struggle with him. He’d kept her in bed for hours, and as long as Claudia closed her eyes and pretended he was Marcus, she could bear his touch. Now, he was asking her to swallow her pride and start anew with him. She hated him more than anyone she’d ever met. “You find Harley, bring him back and treat him well, then we have a deal, Slade.”

Slade’s smile was positively diabolical. “Okay then. If the little shitbag’s balls finally drop and he has the nerve to come around, he can stay. I don’t know what it is the two of you see in him, but you’re just fooling yourselves. The only thing Harley has the potential for is to be a fuckup or housekeeper of the clubhouse.”

He left them without another word.

“Are things going to be okay between the two of you when I go, Ma?” Ransom asked his fuming mother.

Claudia’s softened at her son’s concern. “Don’t worry about us, hijo. You go and represent the club. I’ll be fine.”

“We both know that he can be a vindictive sonofabitch, Ma,” Ransom tersely countered, drawing his mother into his arms and holding her tightly to him. He kissed the top of her head. “If he tries to get outta line with you, promise you’ll call me. I’ll come no matter what. I swear to you, Ma.”

Claudia wrapped her arms around his waist and lay her face against the cool leather of his cut. She would be fine as long as she had the love of her boys. No matter where Harley was, Claudia knew he loved her, despite his abrupt departure. She could only pray that he was okay.

“Mijo, I appreciate that, but that’s not what I want you to swear to me,” Claudia pulled back to look up at her beautiful son that towered over her. Christos, she could still remember changing diapers and wiping snotty noses, and her heart gave a sharp pang at how swiftly time flew. She placed her hand on the side of his bearded jaw and pleaded, “I want you to swear that you’ll stay away from that-that...girl! I saw what she did to you. The way she just walked away without looking back broke your heart. Dios, ella era el diablo!”

Ransom extracted himself completely from his mother’s hold and struggled to control his rising temper. Billy won again because it didn’t matter what she’d done to him, Ransom understood why she’d done it. He didn’t agree, but he understood and that’s all people needed to know.

“Leave it alone, Ma,” he warned as he swung his leg over his bike and settled in. “Billy didn’t do shit wrong. If you ever cross paths again, remember that. I won’t repeat myself, and I won’t allow anyone to talk shit about her. Ever. No one gets a pass from me. Not even you. Understood?”

Instead of agreeing with him, Claudia kissed his bearded cheek and murmured, “Te amo, mijo. Ten cuidado.”

She waved as he roared off, only stopping when he disappeared from her sight. As Claudia walked back to the house, she made an adjustment to her earlier assumption. Slade wasn’t the person she hated most. That honor belonged to Willamina “Billy” Stanton for coming to Chatham and spinning everyone’s world topsy-turvy, setting a tumultuous chain of events into motion. Wherever she was, Claudia hoped that karma had caught up to the little bitch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FOUR

 

Northern California,

 

Billy stared at the closed bedroom door and took a deep breath before knocking. “Angela, are you ready to go? I have to be at the theater in under an hour.” She received no answer and knocked again, this time, with a reminder. “You promised you’d come to the grand opening with us! Kent’s here already. Are you dressed?”

The response on the other side of the door was muffled, but Billy suspected it wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear. She tried the doorknob but wasn’t surprised to find it locked.

“If she doesn’t want to go, don’t try to force her,” Kenton Medina, her best friend, suggested as he adjusted the Windsor knot of his tie in the hallway mirror. “You know how self-conscious she’s been feeling lately because of...” He motioned to his stomach and made an exaggerated pregnant gesture.

“Hey, what’s that in your hair?” Billy asked curiously as she stepped away from the door and approached Kent. If Billy knew nothing else about Kent, she knew for sure that he was ridiculously vain, and would respond accordingly.

“What is it? Get it out! I paid a hundred bucks for this haircut! There better not be any mistakes!” Quickly, Kent lowered his head for Billy to get whatever it was, and she promptly smacked him upside of it. He jerked back, rubbing the sore spot as he glared down at her. “Oww! What was that for, Billy?”

She smiled sweetly at him, though her eyes were expressing her annoyance. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re acting like all those people who’ve made her self-conscious with their whispering and staring at her like she has a bomb in her stomach, fathead!” Billy fumed to him. “Angela is pregnant not dying! Those are babies in there, and they’re only going to get bigger. Talk about them instead of tiptoeing around them! If we, as her friends, can’t acknowledge that fact with her, Angela never will!”

Kent was only paying partial attention to her words. As usual, when he was in his best friend’s presence, Kent was caught up in how animated and expressive Billy was. She wore all of her emotions on her sleeve and always had. They’d grown up together and his ‘like’ had turned to love a long time ago. Billy wasn’t quite there yet, but Kent was confident that she’d come around in time. How could she not when they were two halves of the same person?

“Are you hearing me, Kent?” Billy snapped her fingers in his face drawing his attention back to her cat-shaped eyes and glossed lips. “Let’s keep her engaged and social. I’m so freaking scared she’s going to waste away in her room, and the only time she comes out is if I make her.”

Billy continued to talk, but no, Kent wasn’t hearing her. As always, when in her presence, lust consumed him. The night they’d spent together was the best of his life, and his mind was stuck replaying it. Kent wished it hadn’t been instigated by her sadness over Melody’s passing and the alcohol they’d consumed. Even though Billy was the one who’d been a virgin, she’d managed, like only Billy could, to make Kent feel like one even though she wasn’t his first. He’d gotten lost in her kisses as he explored the unchartered territory of her body before finally sliding in and claiming his rightful place. Kent tried to go slow, but the desire for her consumed him and the need to relish the moment that it was Billy in his arms were stronger. 

But Billy hadn’t wanted to go slow. Liquid eyes full of anguish stared up at him, pleading with Kent to keep up with her as she took control and urged him beneath her. Billy rode him with unrestrained abandon, head flung back as she worked that nubile body he’d fantasized about forever. She’d turned him inside out, and now, no other girl would do. Kent wanted all of his nights occupied by Billy. Days too. He wasn’t picky, but she’d changed since her visit to New Mexico. Billy was still fun, kind, playful, and caring, but she was different too. Sometimes, when she thought no one was paying attention, there was a haunted look in her eyes and Billy would get this faraway expression. She’d forget anyone else was in the room, and that worried him. No matter how much Kent dogged her with questions. Billy refused to discuss it.

“Earth to Kent!”

“Chill out, brat! I heard you,” Kent smiled down at her and her arresting features relaxed. He fingered the black and white tiny polka dot fabric of her high-necked, long-ballooned sleeved dress that nipped in at her waist and flowed to her ankles. The satin fabric subtly clung to her body, and the black stiletto ankle boots added to her already tall frame. “You’re bad all by yourself, but in this dress, you look amazing, Billy. You nervous about tonight? I hope not because you know you got this, right?”

Billy ran her fingers through her black hair that she’d styled in loose waves to flow about her shoulders and allowed a small smile to play on her oxblood painted lips. She’d kept her makeup simple with only gloss and a hint of mascara, and her jewelry minimal, but Kent knew the dress had come from Melody Lashay’s closet, and the large diamond studs that twinkled like stars when the light hit them just right sure as hell weren’t costume jewelry. This polished, sophisticated look was what Kent was used to from the old Billy. With a stylist as a mother, Billy was always hooked up and the envy of all the other girls at their school, another reason why Kent loved her. Not only was her personality fucking fantastic, but the girl was eye candy too. She used to be a fly dresser as well but had recently adopted a uniform of sweats and jeans with that ratty-ass plaid shirt she dragged around everywhere.

“Thank you, doll. No, I’m not nervous, per se. I did the best job that I could and in the end, that’s all that matters. I just never thought I’d enjoy designing sets more than acting,” Billy said as she readjusted his tie. “I’m also glad the theater budget got approved to really jazz up the space, so we’ll just have to see what the critics say.” Her hands fell away from his tie to grip her hips, a defiant, fiery look in her eyes as she angled her chin upward. “Either way, I’m damn proud of the job I did, and I dare anybody to say different!”

Being proud of your abilities and having a strong work ethic was something Melody had instilled in Billy from a young age. For the most part, she was confident in herself, but there had been times that Billy forgot and needed reminding.

“I’m scared, Mom,” a ten-year-old Billy whispered fearfully as she wrapped her arms around Melody’s waist, tilting her blue and white plaid head bow haphazardly. “What if they don’t like my acting?”

They were waiting in the wings for the play “The Wizard of Oz” to start. Billy was playing the role of Dorothy, and she’d been so excited until they arrived at the theater. With a gentle laugh, Melody pried Billy’s arms from around her and crouched down so they were eye level.

“Chile, what in the world? Of course, they’ll like your acting! You memorized the words to the movie by the time you were seven and always got into character playing Dorothy. How could they not like your acting? You’ve been practicing for over three months!”

“Hayley and Jackie kept telling everyone that I suck and will mess up my lines. They said I don’t deserve the part and that I’m too funny looking to play Dorothy,” Billy confessed, hating to admit that the older mean girls had rattled her.

Melody was pissed and silently vowed to discuss the girls’ behavior with their mothers when the play was done. But for now, she had a daughter whose confidence had been shaken and needed restoration. A quick glance around showed that no one was paying attention to them, so Melody whispered into Billy’s ear, “Do your best. Fuck the critics, baby. Be proud of what you can do! Nobody can do what you do, and no one has the right to kill anyone else’s dream either! If they have something to say about it, let them get off their preachy know-it-all asses and try to do it better.”

Melody gave her daughter a reassuring hug and kiss on her cheek, before straightening up. She tweaked Billy’s nose and winked at her. “I know it’s all grown-up sounding, but you get the drift. Now go out there and knock ‘em dead!”

But tonight wasn’t one of those times. Billy had studied and researched every detail methodically day and night for the time period for the play “Heiranimo is Mad Again”.

“Damn, if you don’t sound just like Ms. Melody!” Kent was filled with admiration and couldn’t help himself. “I’m so proud of you, fathead.” He leaned down and brushed his lips against a startled Billy’s, then encouraged when she didn’t object or pull away, Kent did it once more and allowed them to linger, gently.

It wasn’t a terrible kiss, Billy decided. Kent’s lips were firm yet held a touch of softness that he knew how to apply. She knew that if she even pressed back against them, Kent would use it to his advantage to shower her with sweet kisses. Not kisses that were wildly possessive, thorough, demanding, and voracious. Kent wouldn’t kiss her like he was dying, and the cure could only be found between both of her lips. He didn’t make Billy feel like she wanted to crawl into him and listen to his heartbeat, hoping that it beat only for her. Or that she was insatiable for a look, bone-melting smile, or touch from him. Or just for him period. Nor did he dick her down with a force fierce enough to be categorized as savage.

Kent also didn’t make Billy feel like she was dying every minute they spent apart because she couldn’t see, hear, or touch him. He didn’t keep her awake at night wondering what or who he was doing with a gut-wrenching jealousy that stifled Billy. Kent’s number wasn’t the one her fingers punched every number but the last to complete a call to him only to hang up in pitiful self-loathing. There was only one man that could make Billy feel this way, so out of control and hungry for him that she’d do anything he wanted.

Ransom Lawson.

The ruggedly sexy, supremely masculine biker had, at the time, been everything Billy was unaware she’d needed but desperately wanted. They’d been so unbelievably good together. There was so much more to Ransom than his intimidating appearance, the Harley, and motorcycle club. He was kind, funny, educated, smart as hell, big-hearted, and adventurous. He’d proudly shown her some of New Mexico, which he loved and shared his vast knowledge of his home state. Sometimes, the past summer felt like a dream Billy never wanted to wake up from. Ransom had made her smile, laugh, love, moan, and then finally break with a searing heartache over him when Billy realized her feelings weren’t reciprocated enough for him to take a chance with her.

That was the deal breaker. She wasn’t the one to wait around for anyone and try to persuade or beg for a spot in anyone’s life. Billy was an ‘all or nothing’ kind of girl and didn’t do shit by half measures. Life was too short to not live it on your own terms. Melody’s death had shown Billy that you should live unapologetically and be who you were meant to be. Fuck the stupid shit and people. She had a simple but big heart with one complication - it loved fiercely and entirely. Billy was still trying to decide if it was a curse or a blessing.

She eased away from Kent, placing a hand on his chest firmly. “Stop taking liberties, friend. Now, come help me get Angela out of her room.”

Billy ignored his look of disappointment and went back to Angela’s door and pounded on it. “I’m not going away, Angela! Open the damn door so that we can talk face-to-face!”

“Come on, Angela!” Kent added encouragingly. “This is Billy’s big night, and I’m taking you both out to celebrate later! Dinner at Bacchios on me! I know how much you love their spicy eggplant tortellini!”

Kent winked at Billy and she gave him the thumbs up sign along with a bump of her hip in approval. With Kent’s school schedule at Fresno and practice for basketball, the best friends had fallen into the habit of Kent driving up with dinner on Friday nights from the Italian restaurant. He’d hang out with the girls until Saturday evening sleeping on their pullout sofa in the living room. At first, Angela had been leery of this, but Kent had charmed her and she’d eventually come around once realizing he wasn’t a threat of sorts. The three of them spent their free time exploring San Francisco by riding its infamous streetcars, visiting Alcatraz, Fisherman’s Warf, and Union Square and cruising the hilliest, most crooked streets any of them had ever seen. Kent and Billy shared their childhood stories with Angela who remained notoriously tight-lipped about herself yet asked the two of them a million questions.

The door finally opened to reveal an uncertain looking Angela dressed in the black crepe maternity dress that Billy had bought for her. The lines were classic and neat, making the pronounced roundness of her baby bump a little less noticeable. At almost six months into her pregnancy with twins and unwed, Angela had been a hot topic of discussion on the small liberal arts college campus. Especially with a group of mean girls and their ingratiating holier than thou personalities that Billy had dubbed the ‘Cunt Society’. Who the fuck were they to judge Angela? They didn’t know what her friend was going through. Which is why Billy operated at a level she referred to as ‘Hoe, please try me’ with them.   

“I hate to switch it up on you guys, but I’m now craving meatloaf instead of spicy Italian.” Wrinkling her nose, she shyly asked, “Think we can go for somewhere that serves traditional American?”

Billy smiled triumphantly as she pushed the door open and placed her hands on Angela’s shoulders, carefully maneuvering her backward, into her room. “Honey, if that means you’re still coming with us, I’d even settle for coming back here and eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches if you wanted. Now let me do your hair and makeup.” 

“Uh, but I’m not settling,” Kent said as he entered the room and took the black pumps from Angela’s hands. “I ate enough of those when I was a kid. Tonight, we celebrate Billy’s success, and I’ll do my best to get you some meatloaf.” He flashed his winning smile at Angela. “While Billy does her thing, I’ll strap your heels on for you, if that’s okay?”

“Yes, please. You guys are too good to me.” Angela sighed as Billy sat her down in front of her vanity and picked up her hairbrush.

“Not really, girlfriend. We’re just doing what you should be doing, which is taking care of yourself,” Billy scolded as she styled her friend’s hair in a sleek chignon then expertly applied major concealer under her eyes, a hint of foundation, blush, eyeshadow, two swipes of mascara, and a dab of rose lipstick in a timely manner, thanks to Melody’s tips on beauty shortcuts. “Voila! What do you think?”

Kent looked up from where he was strapping on Angela’s heels, surprise registering on his face at the subtle hints of makeup Billy applied to emphasize Angela’s fresh-faced beauty. The shy girl never made any attempts to conceal her fatigue that was reflected in her washed-out complexion and dark shadows under her eyes. Kent wasn’t entirely convinced that the campus talk about her was more about the fact that she looked like the living dead than her pregnancy. “I think you’ve been holding out on us, Angela. You look really nice.”

She blushed prettily and whispered, “Thanks, you guys.”

Kent stood up and gallantly offered an arm to each girl. “Now, let’s be out. Can’t have the prettiest women in Cali hiding away in the house.”

***

Angela fidgeted in her seat uncomfortably. The twins were causing her major discomfort in her back, and as much as she was enjoying being out, Angela wished she was back in her bedroom, lying on her bed while contemplating her next moves. Her parents were asking her to come home for the holidays because they hadn’t seen her in awhile, but Angela couldn’t return home like this. Just thinking of the scandal it would bring gave her a migraine. And if anyone ever discovered how she wound up in this condition, it would ruin her family. She loved them too immensely to burden them with her shame.

A sharp kick to her ribs made her wince, and Angela knew it was the aggressive one. The one that was always pushing, shoving…assaulting her. Just like its father. The other one made soothing gentle motions that lulled her into a state of relaxation, and Angela feared that as well. Harley had been charming and easygoing until the mask slipped, no, was snatched off to reveal the monster within. The twins were a constant reminder of what she’d suffered, and Angela couldn’t wait to be rid of them and back to her normal life.

The life of being the baby of the family and rightfully pampered and adored. Her parents were forty and forty-five when she came along sixteen years after her older sister. She was their ‘miracle’ child and treated as such. Angela never had to want for anything or do anything for herself. They paid for everything she asked for, which also meant that her parents kept close tabs on her. The trip that brought her to Albuquerque was because she’d thrown a tantrum and insisted on being allowed to test out her new BMW convertible cross-country instead of being chauffeured per usual.

Drunk on her newfound independence and liquored up, Angela had been easy pickings for the much more experienced Harley. Ignoring the warnings of her traveling companions, Angela welcomed his advances, hopped her ass on his bike, and now, she was being punished for her stupidity.

“Hey, what the hell is this damn play supposed to be about?” Kent whispered to her with a dazed look. “So far, all I understand is that there’s some old ass foreign war going on.”

Angela turned to look at him in the dim light, and her body gave a small flutter that had nothing to do with the twins. In another time, Kenton Medina was exactly her type, and she would have felt confident enough to flirt with him and ask for his number. Since Kent came from money, her parents would have approved and gift-wrapped her for him as well. Because she was Billy’s friend, Kent considered Angela to be his as well, and that’s all she knew he saw her as because Kent only had eyes for Billy.

He was oblivious to the looks of interest that were thrown his way while in Billy’s attendance. Kent was so in love with her that Angela felt sorry for him that Billy didn’t reciprocate his feelings. Her beautiful friend treated Kent the same way she did Angela. Then again, she treated everyone who was kind to her the same way. Sometimes, Angela wished that she could be more confident and outgoing like Billy. She wasn’t the least bit interested in kissing ass and being popular. Billy always looked glamorous, whether it was in designer wear or her favorite plaid shirt.

“Billy mentioned it had to do with a war between the Spain and Portugal. Someone dies and a ghost haunts someone?” Angela shrugged sheepishly. “I’m going to claim pregnancy brain on this one. If you ever tell her I said that, I will deny it, Kenton Medina.”

Kent threw his leonine mane back and laughed, despite the ‘sssh’s’ he drew from the disapproving audience around them. “Then I guess your secret is safe with me, Angel.”

Angel. Not Angela. She blinked at the dazzling grin he shot her, and again, Angela felt flutters. She smiled back at him and turned back to the play. Angela allowed herself to fantasize about what her life would be like if she’d never got on the back of a motorcycle riding devil.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

Billy listened to the buzz as she wove her way through the crowd at the play’s afterparty. The night was a success, and Billy beamed with pride as she listened to reporters raving about the richly woven tapestries, vibrantly painted scenes that served as backdrops, and the accurate period costumes that she’d created with her team. God, she wished her mother was here to see everything. Billy could still see Melody flitting about dressing rooms and roll racks of clothing and studying photo shoot destinations for her upcoming projects.

“There’s a story in everything you do, Billy. You have to find it and ensure it’s represented accurately, my love, for it’s YOUR story. The one you will be judged by. Make it an epic bestseller!”

“Giiirl, you hear them going on and on about what you created? They are going bananas! You knocked it out the park, ‘fresh meat’!”

This came from Billy’s fellow classmate, who’d worked with her on the set, Dominique “Money” Eaton as she came up to her and wrapped her in a generous hug around the waist with a gleeful laugh. Billy towered over her friend’s five-foot slender frame. What Money lacked in height she made up for with style and her larger-than-life personality. Her waist-length black box braids, oversized silver hoops, diamond stud nose ring, and black oversized glasses further complemented the form-fitting mini-dress printed with “Calvin & Hobbes” cartoons that she paired with white high-top Converses. Her full lips were coated in a vivid purple lipstick that popped against her brown sugar complexion.

“Correction: I hear them going on about what we created,” Billy replied warmly. And it was true. She and Dominique were part of a formidable team, one that the juniors and seniors refused to give props to. They’d tried to block every suggestion the sophomores and freshmen made, but the group refused to go down without a fight. The director finally intervened and gave them a chance by allowing them to take lead on this play as a trial run. Billy had the creative flair and vision while Dominique had the execution. She was a fashionable handywoman whiz, and budding clothing designer, helping Billy to bring the set to life. “Bet they won’t ever underestimate us again.”

“Heeell no; they won’t be doing that shit again!” Dominique agreed smugly. “It’s about damn time for them stuck-up seniors to pass the torch to those with fresh to def ideas instead of that old, stuffy, outdated scenery, lookin’ like a cheesy ass soap opera setting! Hey, me and some of the cast are gonna grab a bite to eat. Want to join us?”

“I’ve actually got plans already, but will you take a raincheck?”

“You know it, girl! Go do your thing. I’ll catch up with you later.”

They exchanged another hug before Dominique disappeared into the crowd. Billy noticed Kent and Angela enjoying each other’s company by the theater’s main entrance, so she took another moment to just enjoy the hustle and bustle around her. She loved that they came to support her, but Billy wished that her maternal grandparents, Neville and Porsha Stanton, or Marcus, had been able to attend the play as well. Unfortunately, they all had prior commitments but promised to make the next play. She even wished for Ransom. After all, wasn’t this the main reason he’d insisted they couldn’t be together? Because Billy had to follow her dreams and exceed her goals.

“You know your mother is dancing in heaven watching you do your thing.” The gravelly voice in her ear made Billy smile as she whirled around to find Marcus standing there with his arms wide open. “I’m so proud of you, babygirl.”

She flung herself into his arms. “Daddy, you made it!”

“I wouldn’t have missed your debut for anything, Billy. I brought you some gifts as well,” Marcus replied as he returned the hug and stepped away from her to reveal a proud Neville and Porsha.

The trio exchanged hugs and kisses as well. “I can’t believe you guys tricked me! I’m so happy to see all of you.”

“How could we not come and support you? This is your first endeavor! You did an excellent job, Billy,” Neville stated proudly. “The play was good, but you and your team were better!”

“Believe me, dear, he’s not just saying that because he’s biased in our extremely beautiful and talented superstar granddaughter’s favor,” Porsha teased. “Let’s go and celebrate, shall we?”

Billy glanced around and saw Kent and Angela patiently waiting for her. She waved them over and flashed an apologetic smile at her dad and grandparents. “I’d love to, but I already made plans—”

“Then bring them along!” Neville resorted to his former stuffy impervious nature. “We don’t get to see you that much, and this gives us an opportunity to spend time with the people you spend your time with. My treat!”

***

Kent looked up from where he was lying out the sofa bed as Angela entered the living room, fresh out the shower and wrapped in a baby blue terrycloth robe. “Hey, I’m just about done making the bed up and was planning on watching “Silver Bullet”. Care to join me?”

Angela wrinkled her nose and settled into the comfortable recliner. “Is that my only option?”

“Come on, it’ll be fun! No one does horror like Stephen King. Want me to make some popcorn?”

“No, I’m still full from dinner.” Angela bit her lip, thinking of the way she’d caught Neville Stanton rudely staring at her belly. Protectively, she started to rub her tummy then stopped. They didn’t need her protection. If anything, it was the other way around. They were invaders that’d taken over her body, and she hated it.

Kent shot her a look, alluding to knowing what was on her mind. He used the remote to lower the television volume. “Hey, don’t let Neville get to you. He’s really protective of Billy, and their relationship is still new, but that’s another story. I think your pregnancy caught them off guard, but it’s none of his or anyone else’s business.”

“Thanks. I try not to let it get to me but it’s hard. People can be unintentionally cruel sometimes when they don’t know what you’re going through.” Angela’s smile was wistful as she played with the ties to her robe. Suddenly, she blurted out, “I wish I had Billy’s confidence! She just blazes her way through everything and never seems to second guess herself. She’s completely unshakable, and it’s one of the things I admire most about her.”

Kent grinned and Angela took note of the softness in his blue eyes as he agreed, “There’s no one in the world like her. But don’t define yourself by anyone else’s standards, or you’ll always fall short, Angel. My old man and brother played ball at Fresno before me, and I’m always being compared to them. I used to do it too, but I realize now that I just don’t care anymore. I’m only interested in making money.”

“But don’t you come from money?” Angela was curious. She knew his mother was a former model turned fashion designer, and his father was in the NBA Hall of Fame and now had a successful sports radio show.

“My parents have money, but I need to stand on my own two feet. Who wants to live off their parents like leeches?” Kent shook his head in disgust, not even noticing the blush staining Angela’s cheeks. “Besides, I hear girls dig a self-made man.”

“Well, Marcus will be happy to hear that.” Angela yawned. “At least you survived his interrogation! Think you passed?”

With a groan, Kent fell back on the sofa bed. Tonight was his first time meeting Billy’s dad, and Marcus had ridden his ass into the ground with a million questions. He’d rapidly fired them at Kent for the duration of dinner, and no matter how much anyone tried to deflect him and change the subject, Marcus kept coming back to Kent. Neville was amused, Porsha embarrassed, and Billy pissed. At one point, there was a disturbance under the table and Marcus grunted, making Kent hope that Billy had kicked him.

“I think he’ll come around,” Kent said confidently. “He won’t have a choice once he realizes how perfect Billy and I are together.”

***

“Do yourself a favor and get rid of the ‘Ken Doll’,” Marcus bluntly advised Billy as they walked along the foggy waterfront. “That pretty motherfucker won’t ever be enough for you, so stop wasting his time and yours. Trust me, he’ll be fine. That big ass ego of his won’t even allow him to mourn losing you.”

“Gee, Dad, judge much? Would you please stop trippin’ on Kent?” she demanded crossly. “It’s kinda rude to show up unannounced then go on a bashing spree of someone you don’t even know. I was so stressed out that I couldn’t even enjoy my prime rib! I can get your criticism for free daily but prime rib? Think I can get that on a student’s budget?”

Marcus was proud to learn that she was spending frugally instead of squandering money. “I already told you I felt bad about that. It’s why I’m treating you to dinner, kid. You’re in for a real treat.”

He directed her to a hot dog stand that had seen better days. Woogy’s. It was decorated in faded red and white stars and stripes with graffiti sporadically spray painted all over the shack. Billy looked at the stand and the bored kid reading a comic book behind the glass then glowered balefully at Marcus. “You ruined my prime rib for hotdogs? You cheapskate! I had hot dogs yesterday and three days before that!”

“But you haven’t had a Woogy dog, babygirl! I’m about to change your life,” Marcus bragged as he led her to the window and greeted the kid. “My man! Can I get an Argentinean dog and a Sonora dog for little Ms. Priss here along with two potato tornados, please?”

They watched as the kid hopped off the stool and went to work. Soon, the air was filled with the sizzling sounds and aromas of peppers and pork frying, instantly making Billy’s stomach growl. “What did you order for me?”

“The Sonora dog. It’s a bacon-wrapped hot dog with tomatoes, onions, shredded cheddar, and avocado mayonnaise on a split soft roll. You’ll love it.”

They got the food and took it to a picnic table and sat down on top of it with the food between them. Marcus waited for Billy to taste hers. “It’s good, ain’t it?”

Mouth full, Billy gave him the thumbs up approval. The smoky flavor of the hardwood bacon, the crispness of the fried hot dog along with the creamy dressing and sharp cheddar were a winning combination. “You were right. What’s on yours?”

“This right here is a chorizo link with chimichurri, pickled red onion, and tomatoes on a hero roll. Try the potato tornado, hit it with a little sriracha for an out of this world experience.”

Billy set her hot dog down to pick up the skewer with the potato spiraled all the way down like a Christmas tree. She took a bite of the spicy well-seasoned fried potato. “I love it. How’d you hear about this place?”

Marcus wore a reminiscent smile. “Believe it or not, your mother discovered this place. She came with my brother to one of my tournaments, and we had a little time to kill, walking around. Thought I’d take a chance and see if it was still here.” Marcus took a bite of his hot dog and sighed with appreciation. “She was pregnant with you and loved that Sonora dog too. When we left, Melody took two for the road. I used to tell her we’d make it back here one day. Thought I had the time with her.” He nudged Billy’s shoulder, and she put her head on his. “Better late than never I guess.”

This information soothed Billy’s restless spirit, and she felt a little bit more centered but concerned at the loneliness in Marcus’s voice. “You still miss her?”

He cleared his throat, and admitted in a low, rough voice, “I’ll always miss her, love her, and wish I could have been what she wanted. This is who I am, and I make no apologies for it, but her heart knew what it wanted, and it wasn’t to be tied down. At least not to me anyways.”

For the first time since Melody passed, Billy was irrationally pissed at her mother for breaking her father’s heart. Melody had done everything right, but that didn’t necessarily make things right. It just fucking complicated things for those she’d left behind. “I worry about you, Daddy. I don’t understand the relationship you have with Lorelai and wonder if it’s enough for you. Your heart is so big that I feel like you need to share it! A second chance with a good woman with your best interests at heart. I always got a lukewarm vibe around Lorelai. Is she who you really want to share your life with?”

Marcus tried to picture his sexy partner or Melody, whom he considered the love of his life, but he was having trouble doing so. All he was able to conjure up were dark green eyes glazed with passion and the sound of his name, a broken cry falling from kiss-swollen lips. Long hair cascading over his belly like a dark chocolate waterfall as his dick was whetted. They’d shared one crazy-no strings attached-night together, and he wanted more. Marcus knew she’d never been fucked like he’d done her that night. Her pussy had wrapped around his dick and strangled it as she screamed and wailed like he was performing an exorcism. Marcus had wanted that, though. To be better than her husband and make Claudia lose her shit like he was losing his over her.

He’d become obsessed with Claudia Lawson. Marcus had to force himself to lie still as she left his bed and dressed to go home to Slade. The need to mark the inside of her thighs had been territorial. He wanted the biker to know that someone had showered his wife with the attention that Slade was incapable of. But Marcus couldn’t risk blowing everything he and Lorelai had worked toward over a woman, especially a married one. And he’d thought he was done with women who were unavailable to him.

Lorelai was different. He didn’t give a damn about her feelings since she’d pulled that stunt with boss man. From now on, they would forever be co-workers and nothing more but remain fake-ass lovers in public. She didn’t deserve this prime dick and good lovin’ anyway.

“No,” Marcus confessed. “Our relationship is purely one of convenience, and you’re reading entirely too much into it. It works for both of us, and you don’t have to worry about my feelings, babygirl. But I was someone that used to be heavily invested. That’s why I recognize that look in your boy’s eyes.”

“Kent and I are fine, Daddy. Everything’s under control,” Billy soothed him.

“Bullshit,” Marcus swiftly countered in a stern tone. “That dude ain’t been told no officially. Now, unless you want me to make my pistol talk, tell that fool to step before he does something stupid. Save him a bullet, Willamina. He’s not the one for you, and he ain’t what your heart wants.”

Billy looked away from him and down at the crumbs where her tornado had been, unable to deny the truth of her father’s words.

“You’re making me nervous the way you got these white boys going crazy,” Marcus joked half-heartedly. “The question is how crazy? That some shit you want to find out, Billy?”

“Stop worrying.”

“You still miss him?” Marcus hated bringing up the topic of Ransom, but he could see the same loneliness he felt in his daughter’s eyes. Yeah, the Lawsons ranked high on his shit list for good reason.

“Every. Damn. Day.” The wind was picking up, and Billy huddled deeper into her wool coat to shield herself from not only the cold but also from the vulnerability her raw admission wrung from her. Sometimes, it seemed she mourned the loss of him as much as Melody. “Two weeks was all we had. I know it might seem silly as hell to some, but fuck them! It was real to me!”

Billy pushed her hair, whipping about her face, out of the way. “Sometimes, I tell myself to get over it. That this was just one moment in my life, and I could have more pressing issues like Angela. Two weeks…stupid, huh?”

Who are you to judge? Marcus’s conscience jeered.

He was still stuck on a one-night stand. He looked into his daughter’s pleading eyes that silently begged for his understanding, and as he gave it, Marcus wished he could take her pain away too. “Nah, your truth is your truth, babygirl. It ain’t for anyone else to understand.”

Billy crumpled against him in relief at his lack of judgment, and Marcus placed a comforting arm around her. “How is he?”

“You sure you wanna do this? Don’t ask the questions if you already have scripted answers ready,” Marcus warned. “You might not like the reality of what you hear.”

The cryptic response made Billy’s stomach take a nosedive, and she pulled away from him. “I know that!” she snapped. “I just need to know. It’ll help me to move on.”

That was a lie. She didn’t want to forget Ransom, his kisses, or the way he’d touched not just her body, but her soul also. “I’ll be fine.”

Marcus studied Billy with resignation. He hadn’t had the privilege of being in her life as long as Melody had, but he knew when his child was lying. Billy was in denial like a motherfucker. Love had a jacked up way of doing that you. “Alright then. I haven’t spoken to him since the day you left. He didn’t take the news well and hasn’t set foot in Inferno with any of his brothers since. But don’t get your hopes up that he’s pining away for you, Billy. He’s been whoring around town, keeping the strippers at Club Flex and the bitches at their compound well-occupied. Don’t waste any more time wondering what it could have been with him. Ransom ain’t thinking about you.”

It was a bold-faced lie, but Billy was better off without Ransom, out of Chatham, and Claudia’s vindictive crosshairs. Marcus knew the biker was plowing through tail in order to drive out Billy’s memory because he’d done the exact thing when Melody divorced him. It was just something men did because they couldn’t deal with their pain maturely. Ransom represented nothing Marcus wanted for his daughter, and he knew Melody would have agreed with him.

“You good?” he challenged her.

The wooden smile she gave him was automatic. “Yeah, I’m all good.” 

Billy couldn’t recall the remainder of her evening with Marcus but was certain she’d put on a good act and was able to breathe through the pain corroding her body. In the taxi back to campus, Billy stared blindly out the window as the evening fog crept through Famon and she replayed Marcus’s words that were death blows to her heart and pride. Knowing this stuff about Ransom was a good thing, she tried to convince herself. It helped to have that knowledge. Moving on from him should now be easier knowing Ransom had swiftly done it with ease.

When she arrived home, Billy saw that Kent was still up and watching ESPN, obviously waiting for her.

“Hey, how’d it go with your dad?” He scooted over to make room for Billy on the bed. The gesture was one of familiarity, something they’d done forever. They’d usually lay against each other, talking and watching their favorite shows until dozing off. But tonight wasn’t a normal night. It felt different. Dangerous. Right now, Kent represented the solid comfort Billy was craving to forget Ransom.

She toed off her boots and instead of sliding in next to him, she sat at the end of the sofa bed with her legs tucked underneath her. “It went well. He said to tell you no hard feelings about earlier.”

Kent gave her a pitying look. “You always were a crappy liar.”

Billy laughed at being busted out so easily. “How do you know I’m not speaking for my dad in the future?”

Kent didn’t laugh with her, though. The basketball player was too busy thinking now was the time to shoot his shot, no pun intended. “Then I guess we’ll have to see when I ask him for your hand in marriage, Willamina.”

Her laughter was cut short by his bold declaration. With a somber expression, she warned, “Don’t play like that, Kent.” 

“Who’s fucking playing?” He sat up, leaning forward, elbows on his knees to brace himself. His blonde hair flopped over his forehead, as he regarded her seriously, those lethal baby blues brimming with tenacity. Billy brushed his hair back, and Kent caught her hand, drawing it to his lips to kiss the inside of her palm. “Are you trying to tell me that night together never crosses your mind? Or of us finally being more than friends? We could be so much more if you stop holding back, Billy. Lemme show you.”

Billy allowed him to pull her closer until she was sitting in his lap. Through the covers underneath her bottom, she could feel Kent’s tented arousal. His cool breath fanned over her face, and it wasn’t unpleasant. This close up, Billy could see the tension in his chiseled jaw and cheekbones as he waited for her response. The warmth and strength from his body coupled with his clean soapy scent should have enticed Billy and ignited sparks of interest. Sparks that would fan into flames of desire that rendered her incapable of thinking.

Should have, but didn’t. Billy was able to focus clearly, and she only had one thought in mind.

Malleable.

That’s what Kent was for her right now, and she hated herself for thinking that. Billy knew she could mold him easily like Play-Doh if she was that cruel of mind. Marcus’s information that conjured up images of her ex-whatever fucking other chicks were short-circuiting her brain, and Billy desperately needed a distraction. It would be effortless to press her lips to Kent’s and allow him to slip her clothes off. To demonstrate her newfound knowledge of what she liked in bed and get lost for a little while. It would also be the perfect revenge against Ransom and his dirty dog deeds. Except, he gave less than a damn about her now and Kent would be the one who paid the price for her reckless selfishness.

“Billy, please.” Her best friend’s husky entreaty was muffled against her throat, where his face was pressed. Billy closed her eyes as she felt the soft flicker of his tongue along her sensitive skin, stroking her pulse as she struggled with her conscience. Or lack of one.

Why not forget about things and go with the flow? Let Kent take away your pain. C’mon! He’s a big boy. What harm could it do? It’d be just like last time…

No!” She jerked away from him and would have fallen backward if Kent didn’t catch her. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.” Billy pressed her fingers to his lips, silencing him when he would have protested. “It’s not you, Kent. This is all on me.”

He yanked her hand away and held onto it when she would have pulled away. “Why, Billy?”

She slid from his lap, pressed her knees to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them, trying to keep the pain at bay, but it was giving her a migraine. God, she felt like shit. Tears rolled slowly down her cheeks as she studied his wounded expression. Billy hated that she’d managed to hurt him anyway.

A cold feeling settled in Kent’s chest as he watched his best friend fall apart in front of him. Leave it to Billy to make a train wreck look beautiful. Her hair falling around her face, tormented feline eyes shimmering with tears, and her lashes spiky from teardrops as mascara smudged under her eyes. She couldn’t seem to stop crying, and Kent who hadn’t seen Billy this emotional since Ms. Melody passed, was internally freaking out. “You can tell me anything, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

Billy drew a long shuddering breath. “I’m glad to hear that. I need to tell you about something that happened this past summer…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SIX

 

The next morning, Angela shuffled out of her bedroom and headed for the kitchen. She had an intense craving for a strawberry yogurt parfait and was hoping Kent hadn’t used all the yogurt for his morning smoothie like last time. Angela passed the living room and was surprised to find the sofa made up and no sign of Kent. She headed for the kitchen and was even more surprised to see Billy sitting in their small kitchen at their table still wearing last night’s outfit and staring into her mug, listlessly stirring a teabag.

“Good morning.”

No answer.

Angela moved closer and pulled out the chair across from her. “Billy, are you okay? Did something happen? Where’s Kent?”

Billy lifted her face, and Angela gasped at her haggard expression. Billy’s eyes were red and lifeless. She also seemed to have a hard time focusing them on Angela. “I’m sorry, what’d you say?”

Angela repeated her questions carefully and Billy stiffened. “Kent’s gone. He needed some time away from me.”

“Did you hurt him?” Angela tried to refrain from sounding accusing to one of her only two friends, but it was hard not to be when Kent’s feelings were obvious to everyone but Billy. “Kent’s crazy about you, Billy. You had to have known that.”

“I do know, but I don’t feel the same way, and I didn’t want to lead him on,” Billy replied tiredly. “I told him that he was my best friend, and nothing would ever change that, and that I’d always be there for him. He said he needed time to sort things through.”

***

“Kent, you don’t have to go.”

“Yeah, I do.” Kent threw his stuff into his duffle bag, pain and bitterness twisting his handsome features. “You’re fucking unbelievable, Billy! I try to tell you I want more, and you respond with an ‘I fell in love with a fucking criminal’ spiel and that you’re still in love with him! What the fuck, Billy?!”

“You need to lower your voice. Last I checked, this was still my place,” Billy ordered, injecting steel into her voice. Kent said nothing, but the tick in his jaw let her know that he was making an effort to control himself. Her tone softened. “Would you have preferred that I lie to you, Kent? Or worse, use you? Our sleeping together never should have happened to begin with. It was a mistake, and I’m sorry if I led you on in any way. You deserve better, Kent. You deserve to be with someone who is going to love and respect you and everything you stand for. You’re my best friend, and I’ll always be here for you, but I’m not in love with you.”

Dejected, Kent sat down on the sofa, fuming and glaring down at his fists as Billy killed his dream with her kindness. He wanted to hate her, but knowing her like he did, Kent knew she already felt terrible if it had taken her this long to admit everything.

“So what happens now, Billy?” The question emerged hoarsely and the crack in his voice completed Kent’s humiliation. “Are you going to go back to him now that you’ve determined I can be a big boy and handle your rejection?”

“NO!” Billy sharply denied with a shake of her head. “I-He-We’ve both moved on. I’m telling you this because we all need to get unstuck from these feelings. You and I go way back. You were the first to sit with me, the only black kid in class at lunch in third grade. We discovered that we loved the same cartoons, shows, and dodgeball. You’re my ace, Kent. I don’t want to lose that.”

He couldn’t even look at her. Billy was the first girl he’d ever loved and his best friend. She was his biggest cheerleader at his games and always came to his games with a handmade sign as she cheered him on. When he scored a point, Kent looked for Billy first. All his hopes, fears and obsession about being a better baller than his pops and brother, Kent poured into Billy’s ear. Any girl he’d ever had an interest in wasn’t worth a second look or date if she didn’t get Billy’s stamp of approval.

Kent could still remember the first time he truly noticed her as more than a friend. It was the summer before tenth grade. They were in Newport Beach with Ms. Melody for a photo shoot she was styling, just chilling on the beach, people watching and hanging out. Kent was trying to look cool in front of the models and Billy was mercilessly teasing him about it. One of the models asked Billy if she was here for the shoot.

“No, my mom’s the stylist,” she explained, pointing at Melody flitting from one model to the next, calling out orders to her assistant.

The model’s words would forever be burned into Kent’s memory. “You should give modeling a try. With your unique looks, gorgeous skin, and those long-ass legs, you’d be a hit!” She tilted her head with a critical expression. “Might have to bind those tits down, and that’s a little too much ass, but maybe you could do headshots?”

He could still remember the way Billy dead-eyed the woman until she scurried away.

Later that afternoon, Billy asked him to help her put sunblock on and removed her tee-shirt and shorts to reveal a red bikini. As he massaged her smooth, soft skin, the model’s words came back to him about Billy’s full, heart-shaped ass and those perky tits. Kent got so hard, he threw the sunblock down and professed exhaustion. Lying face down, he willed his boner to disappear, but it only grew harder in her presence. From that day on, Kent had seen her as more than a friend. He’d seen possibilities with hopes of turning them into realities.

“Kent?” Billy placed her hand on his arm and gave a gentle shake, breaking Kent out of his reverie.

“I can’t do this right now,” he sighed, standing up and grabbing his bag. Kent headed toward the door without looking back. “I need space from you.”

***

Angela couldn’t help it, and laughed angrily, causing Billy to raise an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, but I just really wish I had your problems right now. ‘How do I make a good-looking guy fall out of love with me?’” She rolled her eyes so hard, it was a wonder she didn’t strain them. “Meanwhile, the highlight of my fucked up year is having a rapist’s babies!”

Mortified, she slapped her hand over her mouth, but it was too late.

“What the hell did you just say?” Billy gasped, eyes wide with disbelief as she came out of her chair and around to crouch by Angela’s chair. Carefully, she pried the hand away from her friend’s mouth. “Talk to me, Angela.”

She tried to hold the word’s back, but Angela was tired of being a silent victim. Staring at her stomach with disgust, she woodenly replied, “I didn’t mean for it to come out that way, but it’s true.”

“Did you report it?”

“No! I just wanted to forget it ever happened.” Angela pulled her hand back and nibbled on her thumbnail. “There were two of them. They took turns and sometimes did it together.”

“Oh, Angela…”

“The other guy wasn’t even into it. He just wanted to make the monster happy,” Angela whispered. “That one was only interested in making me cry.” Her eyes were glassy as she tried to focus on Billy’s compassionate face. “He…hurt me! My pain was what got him off! The things they-no, he instigated...and no one stopped him, Billy!”

Angela put her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed. “That was the worst part of it all! No one cared enough to stop what he was doing! I could hear some people coming and going outside of the room. How could they ignore blatant injustices like that?! Like I wasn’t even human…”

Locked in the horrifying memory, Angela’s voice trailed off, but Billy refused to let her dwell there. She pried Angela’s hands away from her face. “You’re safe, Angela! They can’t hurt you any longer. I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to you or your babies.”

“My babies?!” Angela spat, recoiling from a surprised Billy. She stood up and paced the small kitchen. “These aren’t my babies, Billy! They’re his! You think I’d have these devil children and keep them?”

“I wouldn’t know because we’ve never talked about it,” Billy replied carefully as she got to her feet as well. “What are you planning to do with them?”

Angela paused at the question and leaned against the counter, staring helplessly at Billy. With her tangled red hair and peaches and cream complexion, she looked young and innocent. Except her protruding stomach and wounded eyes contradicted that assumption. “I didn’t even know I was pregnant because my cycle is irregular!”

Her hands tightly gripped the counter behind her as she locked eyes with Billy. “I found out when I was three months pregnant. I wanted to get an abortion. I wanted these demon spawn out of me! I hate knowing that they’re thriving off of me!”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I wasn’t raised that way!” Angela shouted with frustration and began to cry. “Because when I was lying on the examining table, they let me hear their fucking heartbeats, and I just couldn’t do it, no matter how much I wanted to! I’m a coward, alright?! I wasn’t strong enough to do it.”

She grabbed a paper towel and wiped her face free of tears. “I’m stuck here until I give birth! Then I’m going to give them up for adoption and go on with my life. My family will never need to know, and I won’t ever have to think of the bastards again. They will never know how much I despise them.” Her voice broke, and Billy crossed the room to hug her. Angela leaned her head on her shoulder. “That seems fair, don’t you think?”

“I think the choice is yours to make. It’s your body, and only you should decide,” Billy said clearly. “I’m so sorry for what happened to you and that you’ve been facing all of this alone, Angela. But you don’t have to anymore! I’m here for you and support you one hundred percent. I do think you should see a therapist, though. You have so much buried inside of you, it’d do you some good.” Billy hesitated, not wanting to upset Angela even more, but it needed to be said. “I also think you should file a police report. They can’t get away with what they did to you, Angela. Don’t let them. It’ll be easier to do since you know where they live. I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

Angela wrenched herself away from Billy, backing away with a wild look in her eyes. “No! It’s not that easy, Billy. You don’t know these people! If it hadn’t been for his brother, I would never have gotten away. He saved me and told me to forget everything.”

Angela set her shoulders back, firm in her resolve, finality hardening her voice. “And that’s all I want to do. I don’t want a trial so my parents can discover what I went to so much trouble to hide. Or to drag my family name through the mud. Or worse, he finds me and exacts some sort of revenge! Just forget about it, Billy. It’s over. Please don’t bring it up again.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you, Angela. I won’t bring it up again on one condition: stop hiding away.” Billy shook her head when Angela would have protested. “I’m not tryna hear it. Stop fucking hiding! You talk about those other chicks downing you, but you’re the only one putting limitations on yourself. I can’t be worrying about whether you need to go on suicide watch because you stay locked in your room for days.” Eyebrows raised expectantly, Billy held out her hand. “Do we have a deal?”

Angela stared at her hand as if it were a snake waiting to strike before eventually placing hers in Billy. “Deal.”

They shook on it, and with a shy grin, Angela said, “Hey, you feel like getting some breakfast? I saw a pancake house not too far from the campus that seems pretty popular. My treat?”

Billy looped her arm around Angela’s neck and hugged her close. “I could go for some eats. Let me take a quick shower.”

***

Angela held the umbrella with two hands, against the whipping wind. Of course, Billy’s play debut was the night of a great storm. She carefully made her way to the theater in the heavy rain. Angela was looking forward to seeing Billy’s new set for “Mahogany”. She smiled and returned the greetings of classmates she knew and would have stopped to chat, but the rain was relentless. Since accepting Billy’s deal three weeks ago, Angela felt a lot better being out and about instead of cooped in her room. She and Billy went to the movies, out to eat, and even shopping. At home, they made dinner together and discussed their days, gradually growing closer. Angela was feeling so confident that she’d even accepted Billy’s invitation to her grandparent’s home for Thanksgiving in a couple of weeks.  

She was so lost in thought that Angela stopped paying attention to where she was going and ran into someone. Her umbrella hitting the back of his head. Quickly, she lowered it to her chest. “Oh, I’m so sorry about that!”

Rubbing the back of his head, the man turned around, irritation flashing in his eyes. It disappeared at the anxiety in Angela’s face. His eyes dropped to survey her with approval before coming back up to her face. She could tell he liked what he saw, and while pleased because he was good-looking, Angela knew he’d run the other way if the umbrella was lowered to reveal her belly. “No worries, as long as you’re alright.”

“We’re good. Again, sorry about that,” Angela murmured as she kept her umbrella in place and stepped around him. It was amazing that while she was pregnant, good-looking nice guys were falling out of the sky.

“Have a good night, Miss?” the stranger probed with a smile.

Angela smiled, knowing he was fishing, but she ignored the question in his eyes. “You too.”

“Pitch, Harley’s looking for you.”

The man smiled at Angela with regret before stepping around her to speak to another man behind her. He didn’t even seem to notice that she remained rooted to the spot. Unpleasant memories surfaced, and the ground seemed to shift and rise toward her. That voice. She’d recognize the other man’s voice anywhere. The eagerness and anxiousness to please. Digger. He was one of the animals that raped her…and he’d said…Harley. He was somewhere, probably on his way toward them or perhaps watching them right now. Angela’s skin crawled, and her breathing turned erratic as her heart rippled with terror. The monster was here.

Her hands were shaking so bad, the umbrella slipped to the ground and the rain pelted her viciously, ruining her makeup and hairstyle that she’d painstakingly coifed, but still, Angela couldn’t move. Onlookers stared at her curiously, and Angela stared back helplessly paralyzed with fear. Her blood roared like thunder in her ears, and queasiness made her lightheaded. She wanted to move but was shaking so hard, her legs finally gave out, and she collapsed to her knees.

Angela would have stayed like that forever if the stranger didn’t speak again. “Miss, are you okay?”

The voice was like a gunshot, driving Angela into survival mode. She scrambled to her feet without looking back to address him or confront his companion and took off.

“Hey! Miss, wait a minute! Miss!”

Angela didn’t care that she could have slipped and broken her neck in heels in this weather. All she cared about was escaping. This time, there was no Ransom to save her if she didn’t get away. Angela didn’t dare look back as she bolted toward a taxi that was pulling up to the curb ahead. The couple departed, and Angela shoved them out of her way, hopped in, slammed the door, and locked it.

“Please go!” she screamed at the cab driver who stared in consternation at his new passenger. Angela caught a glimpse of herself in his rearview mirror. Stark white with terror and dread, hair plastered to her face, makeup streaking, and crying, Angela was sure he thought she was deranged. “Please, sir! I’ll give you a hundred dollars on top of whatever the fee is if you just leave now!”

The driver’s attention was caught by two men running toward his cab. One was blonde and well-dressed, the other, dark-haired and stockier. Both wore determined expressions. He turned around and after checking for clearance pulled away from the curb and stepped on the gas. Reaching into his passenger seat, he grabbed the box of Kleenex and handed it to her. “Where to, ma’am?”

Gratefully, Angela took it and swiped at her face. She was faint with relief. They wouldn’t get to her. Never again. But what were they doing here all the way from New Mexico? And who was the blonde man?

“Where to, ma’am?” the driver repeated, cautiously evaluating her in the rearview mirror.

Angela was guilt-stricken as she gave her answer. “The airport, please.”

She couldn’t go back to the apartment and risk putting Billy’s life in danger. Once she got to the airport, she’d call and leave her friend a message.

Hopefully, in time, Billy would be able to forgive her.

***

“What do you think that was about?” Curiosity rang in Digger’s voice. “Think she suspected anything?

Kevin “Pitch” Wallace stared after the taxi cab in consternation, racking his brain, trying to recall if he’d ever seen the redhead before. Something about him and Digger had spooked her. What bothered him more was that she knew exactly what he looked like. He’d noticed the interest in her eyes, and it was enough for her to describe him in great detail to authorities if she needed to. Pity. Pitch had planned to use the interest against her.

Pitch glanced around uneasily, trying to gauge if anyone was paying attention but couldn’t detect any interest in them. He silently cursed Harley for demanding they come to this sleepy-ass town. Pitch hoped that being away from Chatham would make the dumbass’s interest in Billy Stanton wane, but it seemed to be having the opposite effect. Harley insisted that they come here before meeting Barrera. They sent Digger to blend in with the other college students, and two days ago, they located Billy. Digger tailed her and discovered that she would be at tonight’s theater production.

Pitch planned to let Harley look his fill then drag his ass out of here. They needed to leave California tonight in order to ‘shop’ for product and prepare for their next meeting with Barrera. “I don’t know, but I’m not planning on hanging around to find out. Let’s grab this lovesick fool and get gone.”

“After meeting with Barrera, we’ll head back to Chatham?”

Digger’s hopeful expression irked Pitch. He knew the other man was tired of their nomadic lifestyle and eager to beg for Slade’s forgiveness. Pitch wanted to tell him that Slade would never let him patch into The Immortals for taking a side in the feud he was waging on Harley. No, Slade would only accept him back into the fold to run Digger’s ass into the ground. Pitch too. God knows what he planned for Harley, but Pitch was willing to suck Slade’s dick for a short time as long as the end result was him fucking The Immortals over completely.

He still didn’t understand what the appeal of being with them was for Digger. Maybe it was just the adventure. He’d grown up in Chatham, too, with his whore of a mother who worked at the Petal Soft Brothel. She’d knocked him around a lot, and Pitch suspected that she probably knocked a few marbles loose for good. Harley told Pitch that he’d given Digger his first shot at pussy with some bitch in the barracks this past summer when Pitch went to his grandmother’s funeral. Now Digger thought Harley walked on water.

“Yeah, Dig. It’ll be back to Chatham.”

***

She was just as pretty as he remembered, Harley decided as he watched Billy on stage, laughing and smiling with her peers, charming them effortlessly. He understood his brother’s infatuation with her. But that was a thing of the past. Digger had asked around, and everyone said the same thing: Billy was single. She was up here in Famon, all alone. No one would be the wiser when Harley made his move, especially Ransom or her father back in Chatham. He was going to have her. Spread her wide open, gag her, and test her tolerance level for pain. She wouldn’t break easily and Harley didn’t want her to. He could tell from her regal yet spirited personality that Billy would be a hellcat and fight him at every turn. Hell, she might even die trying, which Harley found upsetting. He planned to keep her around for a long time.

“It’s time to go, Harley,” Pitch spoke abruptly from his post next to him. The last hour had stretched his nerves to capacity, being on alert for any spontaneous gestures from Harley to get Billy’s attention.

“I think we should go and pay our respects,” Harley suggested with a sly grin.

Pitch grabbed Harley by the elbow. “What the fuck are you doing, man? You seriously ready to risk everything over some bitch? All she has to do is mention to Rage that she saw us, and he might mention it to Slade. I didn’t…” Pitch paused, struggling to reign in his temper. “We didn’t come this far only for things to fall apart now! She’s your brother’s sloppy seconds, Harley. Forget about her. We can’t keep Barrera waiting.”

“Fuck Barrera! I run this shit, not him!” Harley glared malevolently at him, but Pitch held his ground.

“Then act like it! Act like money is more important than a bitch who’ll never give you the time of day whether she’s single or not!” Pitch knew he was treading on thin ice from the way Harley’s jaw locked and his fingers spasmed, but he wasn’t about to be screwed out of his revenge. He’d kill Billy himself to eliminate more problems with Harley if he couldn’t get his dick under control.

Harley finally relented. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

“Harley—”

“Go.”

His anger receded with Pitch’s departure, and Harley was able to focus on Billy once more. He’d never admit it aloud, but Pitch’s words made sense and he needed him. Pitch was the brains and believed in him, unlike Slade and Ransom. Pitch’s loyalty was unwavering, and he’d never do anything to disrespect or betray Harley. He was Harley’s only true friend, besides Digger, and that’s why he’d listen to him now. Billy wasn’t going anywhere. He’d be patient a little while longer. Pitch wanted to head back to Chatham, but Harley planned to double back here first.

He shifted his stance, content to get one last look at Billy for the time being when suddenly their eyes connected. Harley saw recognition, then disbelief, followed by wonderment and pure joy at seeing him. No, not for him, he realized. Ransom. Jealousy made his gut churn. He’d thought leaving Chatham behind would mean leaving Ransom as well, and he’d finally get to shine, but she was another reminder that his brother was better than him. He had the love of this woman, and Harley wanted to destroy it and her to get back at Ransom for always purposely showing him up.  Billy started to make her way toward him, and knowing he needed to go, Harley allowed himself to linger for a moment. Stay and see the effort Billy was making to cross the crowded theater in a desperate attempt to get to Ransom. Harley imagined it wasn’t Ransom but himself Billy wanted. The crowd closed around her, blocking her pathway, and unwillingly, Harley slipped backward, into the crowd behind him until she disappeared from his view.

Outside he breathed in the cool air heavy with the scent of rain. He could feel the need swirling like a tornado inside of him, pushing to break free and lash out. Quickly he left the theater and went to find Pitch. There was no time to hunt. Digger would be waiting for them back at the motel, and the motherfucker would be hungry as usual. They would need to stop by a Denny’s first and grab some food. Harley found Pitch standing next to the van, but he wasn’t alone.

“There you are, buddy!” Pitch called out to him good-naturedly. “Come over here! I want you to meet a good friend of mine.” He smoothly took hold of the shy girl’s hand and bent over it to kiss it charmingly. “What’s your name again, darlin’?”

“It’s Carmelita,” the girl said shyly as she pushed her glasses up on her nose and made sure her headband held her dark, long hair from her face.

Harley laid on the charm automatically, flashing her a mega-watt grin. “That’s a pretty name and doesn’t do a stunning woman like you justice, right Kev?”

“Hey, get your own girl!” Pitch gave Harley a mock scowl that made Carmelita giggle. “Why don’t you and I get something to eat and you can tell me exactly what Famon College has to offer?”

“That sounds like a good idea.” The girl glanced uncertainly over her shoulder. “Just let me tell my friends so they don’t worry.” She turned back to Pitch and was rocked backward and unconscious, into Harley’s arms, by his fist driving into her jaw.

“What the fuck are we supposed to do with her?” Harley hissed as Pitch opened the van then grabbed her legs and they guided her sleeping form into the vehicle. “Barrera ain’t interested in something he can get every day!”

“She’s not for Barrera!” Pitch snapped at him as he whipped a cloth out of his back pocket and gagged Carmelita. “She’s for you! Something for you to take the edge off that hard-on you’ve developed for your brother’s used goods! Now let’s go find a spot to play before it rains again so we can get back on track!”

Pitch hopped in the driver’s seat while Harley waged an internal struggle. He glanced around and back toward the theater. Just thinking about Billy made his dick swell, and the pull she had over him, made him hesitate. Sooo close. He hated to leave her. Then Carmelita moaned, and the innocent whimper was tempered with fear, and the monster finally broke free and roared his delight. Harley saw her staring up at him with stark fright and smiled soothingly.

“Ssssh. Don’t worry, I plan to go very slow,” He hopped in the back with her and Carmelita began to cry as he closed the door on her freedom, sealing her fate. Harley grabbed the duct tape from his duffle bag of supplies. “We have all night.”

***

Her mind was playing tricks on her, Billy acknowledged as she unlocked her front door. It was causing her to see things. That was the only deduction Billy could come up with after the mirage she witnessed at the play tonight. She’d come to the stage with the rest of her team and taken a bow, giddy with the success of the new play. Billy was talking with Money when she felt that she was being watched. A glance around and her breath caught as she locked eyes with a familiar pair at the back near the exit doors. Ransom. His hair was cut short, but it did not detract from his handsomeness. The rest of him was blocked by the crowd between them.

Never looking away, Billy jumped from the stage and tried to make her way to him, but it seemed as if every person in the theater wanted to stop and discuss the damn play! By the time Billy made it to the doors, he was gone. Hunting for him took precedence over why Angela had stood her up. For an hour, Billy searched, but Ransom wasn’t anywhere to be found. She finally gave up and came home.

“Angela?!” Billy called out. “You’d better have a good reason for standing me up!”

No response.

“Angela?”

Billy passed the blinking answering machine and walked down the hall to her roommate’s room. She wasn’t surprised to see the door open. Since their talk in the kitchen, Angela no longer kept her door closed. What was surprising was the empty room. Now, she was worried. The place seemed eerily quiet to her now as she walked to the bathroom then checked her room. Where the hell was Angela?

She came back down the hallway and noticed the answering machine this time and pressed play. The tension left Billy as she heard Angela’s voice, then sadness overcame her as she listened.

“Billy…something’s come up. I’m not going to return to school. Don’t worry; I’m fine and still going through with my plans for adoption. I just wanted to thank you for being a great friend to me. I’m so damn sorry that I couldn’t be a better one to you. I hope you and Kent makeup soon, and if you can find it in your heart, give him a chance. He’s a really great guy. Take care of yourself, and be careful and safe. You can’t trust everyone, Billy. Love you.”

When the message ended, Billy went to the sofa and stretched out. As her eyes closed, Billy vowed that tomorrow she’d let go of everyone and everything that was weighing her spirit down. She wished Angela and Kent well, and even Ransom too, wherever he was. Her heart was heavy, and she felt lonely and abandoned all over again, just as she had during the summer.

Tomorrow would bring new beginnings, she thought. It had to.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

Farmington, New Mexico

 

Adsila Martinez stood in the doorway of her front door and watched her husband Jacy. He was still in his mining clothes and standing in their front yard with his back to her. Arms crossed, he watched a group of pre-teen boys playing soccer in the field across the street from their house. Adsila knew that it wasn’t the boys that held his attention as much as the young man moving around them with his camera. Determination etched on his face as he took shot after shot of the hard-playing youth.

Quietly, she opened the door and stepped out to join Jacy in the nippy afternoon weather. Fall had come, bringing its annual changes to the desert in the form of leaves on cottonwood trees turning an almost neon yellow, brightening the red clay dirt roads, short wheat-colored grass, and the backdrop of adobe mountains. Adsila handed him a cup of hot cocoa as she greeted him, “Yá'át'ééh (Hello), my love. How was work?”

They both spoke Diné bizaad, or Navaj, an Athabaskan language, relating to a family of North American Indian languages, including Navajo and various Apache languages spoken primarily in the Southwestern United States.

Jacy wrapped his cold hands around the hot mug, grateful for the warmth it brought after long hours of working underground. The mines were freezing, and the work was intense, but it put food on the table his family gathered around. He’d worked there since he was fourteen, alongside his father, uncles, and grandfather. Like most men in their small Navajo community, it was all they’d ever known. “Yá'át'ééh, wife. No complaints from me. Has he been here long?”

“Showed up around ten this morning. Said he’d eaten and immediately started working on our cars. He changed the oil in the station wagon and insisted that the muffler needed replacing then took it upon himself to do so.” Adsila smiled, and just seeing the lovely gesture and the way it made the laugh lines crinkle at the corner of her warm chestnut brown eyes, Jacy returned it. “Of course, he refused payment, but I insisted he stay with us while here. I insisted upon it, but you know he comes and goes like the wind.”

There was a Navajo proverb that had been instilled by both of their families growing up. Always assume your guest is tired, cold, and hungry, and act accordingly. They didn’t have much, but Adsila was determined to honor their upbringing in this way. After twenty-five years of marriage, she still warmed Jacy’s soul, and his heart sang in her serene presence. They shared a simple life that was rich in love and laughter, not just between them, but with their seventeen-year-old daughter Rozene (pronounced ro-zay-nuh) and twelve-year-old son, Jacy Jr. Except these days were filled with more turbulence than laughter as their daughter attempted to assert her independence in a challenging way.

Seeing her husband’s troubled expression, Adsila placed her head on his once broad but now stooped shoulders. She smiled when Jacy leaned his salt and pepper covered head against her own that was still black and gray-free. His clothes smelled faintly of smoke, dirt, and kerosene from the mines. That place had aged him, and no amount of worrying on her part could get him to leave. It was the work of his family before him, and Jacy would not alter his path, no matter that two uncles had died of black lung disease.

“Jacy, I’d like to discuss our issue with him. Perhaps he could help—”

“Adsila, I will handle it. Let’s not speak of it again.” He did not need to raise his voice to convey his displeasure, for that was never his way. Jacy was a quiet man who didn’t believe in grandstanding of any sort and only used the barest minimum of words needed. He preferred actions to words in measuring a person’s integrity.

The boisterous cheers across the field signaled that playtime was over. It was followed by the galloping of feet running toward them, and the man following at a slower pace.

“Yá'át'ééh!!!” the boys greeted Jacy and Adsila in loud whooping cries.

“Boys, why don’t you wash up? There’s more cocoa in the kitchen, and supper’s almost ready,” Adsila told them, and they readily complied as their guest for the night approached.

He was a big man, tall and powerfully built. He walked with an assured swagger that oozed confidence of the power he wielded, even with no weapon. The leather motorcycle cut worn over his black hooded sweatshirt, black shitkicker boots, shaggy, shoulder-length brown hair, and beard covering his angled jaw only made him seem more imposing.

The two men surveyed each other, quietly taking stock and noting changes before Jacy finally addressed him. “You lost again, Ransom Lawson? Not surprised with all the wandering you do.”

Ransom threw his head back and laughed genuinely before enveloping the older man in an affectionate bear hug that was enthusiastically returned. “Just because I wander doesn’t mean I don’t know where I’m going, old man. How ya been?”

Their unlikely friendship was formed two years ago when the biker enforcer was traveling down Interstate 25 on his way back to Chatham and stopped to get gas. Ransom walked in on a robbery in progress. The bastard was holding Adsila at gunpoint by the register while the clerk stuffed the safe’s contents into a bag for him. Ransom was able to shoot the gun out of the asshole’s hand and Adsila grabbed a flashlight lying on the counter and hit the robber over the head with it.

Ransom took over from there, urging her to call the cops while he had a ‘talk’ with the junkie. Adsila also called Jacy, and he arrived fifteen minutes later, enraged that someone had scared his wife who was on her way home from the hospital. She’d worked the graveyard nursing shift and stopped for gas. He’d been wary of the biker but owed him a debt of gratitude. Adsila insisted he come to dinner. Ransom accepted, and that night they discussed sports, the wonders of New Mexico that tourists took for granted, and politics.

The following week, Ransom showed up with parts for their station wagon they’d mentioned needed fixing. Adsila and Jacy were overwhelmed by his generosity and worried about how to repay him. For Ransom, seeing the Martinez family together, their normalcy, and the obvious love and respect they shared for each other inspired him to take on the responsibility for these kind, hard-working people. In the end, he allowed Adsila to feed him again, and a friendship was born.

It was his first true friendship unrelated to his MC. The Martinez home was somewhere Ransom could go and clear his head every now and then. Despite the cut he wore and the tattoos covering his arms that implied an interesting story, the family never questioned Ransom on his other life, and he never volunteered it, except for the photography. He’d taken some of their favorite family pictures that Adsila had framed and hung around the house.

“I can’t complain, Ransom. We all have our health.” Once more, Jacy studied his friend. There was a restlessness about him, and his eyes seemed distant and troubled. Something was worrying his friend. “Come, let’s eat.”

While the boys ate gathered around the television in the living room to watch “WWF”, the adults sat at the dining room table and caught up. Hungrily, Ransom dug into Adsila’s nambe rellenos, which is poblano chiles stuffed with chicken and cheddar cheese rolled in blue cornmeal served over cilantro rice with a red chile sauce. Adsila and Jacy exchanged a grin as Ransom made a considerable dent in the generous portion she’d served him. Jacy pushed the serving dish closer to him, silently encouraging Ransom to eat more.

“No, this is more than enough, thank you. Adsila, you outdid yourself as usual. Run away and marry me,” Ransom kidded, earning him a mock scowl from Jacy.

The trio talked and laughed while the boys roughhoused for a bit then got up to take care of the kitchen without being told. Through it all, Jacy watched Ransom with grave concern. The younger man seemed a little subdued and preoccupied. “What’s going on with you, Ransom? You seem troubled.”

Ransom's eyes snapped up from the table to meet his friend’s penetrating look with a grimace. “Am I that obvious?”

“You don’t seem like yourself tonight.” Eyebrows raised with speculation, Jacy haphazard a guess. “Surely, a fella like you can’t be having woman problems?”

He was unprepared for the flash of pain that appeared across Ransom’s face before disappearing. “What makes you say that?”

Jacy’s whistle brought a slow flush to Ransom’s face, and he rapped his knuckles on the worn oak table in agitation. “Because only a woman can make a man lose his focus like that. I’m all ears if you need to talk, friend.”

Ransom debated the offer. This bullshit with Billy was ripping him apart, but what good would talking about it do? They both made choices, and he’d be damned if he’d go crawling back to her like a pussy, begging her to take him back. But goddamnit, he missed her. He remembered in brilliant fucking clarity everything they’d shared, but mostly, he remembered how she’d decimated him. The night Billy left, he’d gotten sloppy ass drunk, and in the darkness of his room, he’d finally broken down and cried like a fucking baby.

“I’m good, but thanks, Jacy.” Ransom used his napkin to wipe his mouth and nodded toward the empty seat across from him. A quick glance out the window and the clock on the stove confirmed that it was past six. “Where’s Rozene? Shouldn’t she be home by now?”

“She’s working at the diner off the interstate,” Jacy offered in a neutral voice. “Normally gets off at eight.”

Ransom slowly chewed his food while processing that information. The diner was linked to a truck stop, and he’d been in a time or two. It was often filled with a rougher crowd of greasy truckers and bikers. No place for a young innocent girl like Rozene. “How do you feel about that?”

Adsila bit her lip, overtly conscious that Jacy wanted her to keep their business private, but anxiety for Rozene’s safety won out. Leaning forward, face flushed with worry, she blurted out, “Honestly, Ransom? I hate it! She’s changed so much in the last year, ever since she began hanging with some of the older town girls. She quit her job at the daycare for this diner. Rozene’s been moody and distant; she hardly wants to participate in council events and lead our youth group.”

She looked away and out the window, pausing to take a steadying inhale and slowly released it. Softly, Adsila continued, “I understand that she’s trying to find her way, but the people she’s hanging out with aren’t really the best influences. We’ve talked to her, but she says if we don’t stop interfering, she’ll run away and never come back.”

Initially furious at his wife’s outburst, Jacy could only agree with Adsila. “She’s started seeing a young man those girls introduced her to. Seth Hunt. He’s a trucker but drinks a lot. Rozene…she’s always been different. Cared too much for the opinions of those outside of this house instead of ours. These teenagers are unlike us. No good will come of this. I pray it’s just a phase.”

White kids, Ransom realized. He wasn’t offended by Jacy’s observations as he’d seen it and experienced it enough coming from an MC family. The kids on the Pueblo reservation back home tended to give outsiders a wide berth and were highly suspicious of them. Seth Hunt seemed like the perfect nightmare to feed into their fears. It was hard to imagine baby-faced Rozene with a guy like that.

This felt all wrong to Ransom, but he kept those thoughts to himself. There was no point in alarming Jacy and Adsila.

***

Ransom left the Martinez home after coffee. He insisted that he needed to be on the road in order to reach his destination in a timely manner. His Harley roared down the unpaved road, the big, thick tires spewing dirt as the family waved goodbye to him. The chrome on his bike glinted under the full moon that illuminated the quiet desert. Up ahead, Ransom could see a pair of coyotes chasing a black tail jackrabbit that evaded them by diving into a hole. The predators dug furiously at it, but at Ransom’s approach and the Harley’s rumbling pipe tails in the still night, the animals took flight to hide in the brush, their dark eyes gleaming back at him inquisitively.

At the fork in the road, Ransom did not choose the one that would take him to the highway. Instead, he chose the one that took him straight to Granny Lynne’s, the greasy diner where Rozene worked. He pulled up in front of the well-lit shithole and removed his lid, hanging it on a handlebar as he eased off his bike. Country music could be heard even through the closed windows and door. From what he could see, there was a manager, a cook, and an older waitress running around serving the half-full joint, but no sign of Rozene.

Foreboding barreled through Ransom’s body as he remained still, except for his head. He swiveled it around the parking lot, listening. Then he heard a sound similar to one he’d responded to five months ago. One he’d never hoped to hear again. A terrified plea for help coming from behind the diner and he was able to distinguish at least two male voices amid the laughter. Ransom bent over his bike and withdrew his weapon of choice. Yeah, he could beat a man to death with his fist, but these bastards deserved a little something extra.

Ransom headed behind the diner to find a crying Rozene being shoved roughly between three men about his own age. Two had on cook’s uniforms and hats. With each boomerang, her uniform was being torn. Her round face was red with exertion, and terror etched into her soft features. Rozene’s words reached him.

“Leave me alone! Seth, how could you do this to me?! I trusted you!” She launched herself at the youngest man with a trucker hat covering his bald head. Rozene punched him in the eye and kneed him in the balls.

“You fucking cherry nigger slut!” Seth howled as he went down on one knee, and grabbed her arm dragging her down with him. “You’re gonna pay for it now, bitch!”

One of the other men stepped up to Rozene and twisted her braid around his fist, forcing her to remain at crotch level while unzipping his pants with his other hand. “I want a turn first, Seth! Let this bitch see what a real man tastes like—”

His words were cut off by the link chain Ransom wrapped around his throat and tightened as the man gagged and tried to pull at the chain. Ransom propelled him into the brick wall, ramming his face into it repeatedly and tightening the chain. The other man staggered drunkenly toward him but flew back from the boot Ransom stomped in his midsection. He fell to the ground, clutching his abdomen and spewing vomit.

“R-R-Ransom?” Rozene’s voice was faint with relief at the rescue, yet she was terrified to see this side of her family’s friend.

She pushed Seth away from her and scrambled to her feet, clinging to the brick wall on the opposite side as she watched the man her family considered to be a good friend bash in one of her assailant’s heads. Gone was his warm approachable personality with them, and it was replaced with the face of a ruthless killer. His green eyes were filled with deadly intent, a cruel smile danced on his lips. Rozene easily comprehended that he enjoyed inflicting the pain on the men who intended to defile her.

Ransom didn’t stop until bits of the asshole’s flesh were embedded into the mortar. He released him, and the man slumped to the ground unconscious. Ransom took the chain and used it to whip the other man down. The man howled in agony as the metal connected viciously with his ribs. Only when he heard the bones crack did a satisfied Ransom stop and turn to Seth, who was still sprawled on his ass, face ashen, and paralyzed with fear except for his rapidly blinking eyes.

Ransom turned to Rozene. “Are you alright, darlin’?”

She straightened up from the wall and tried to smooth her torn uniform into place. “I’m fine, Ransom. What are you doing here?”

“You’re not fine, and it looks like I got here just in time,” he answered shortly. “Your parents mentioned that you started working here and were keeping company they didn’t approve of. Thought I’d come see for myself. What were you doing out here?”

“I was just taking the trash out, and then Todd and Jon followed me out.” Rozene shot Seth a scathing glance. “They’re the boyfriends of my new friends, and I didn’t think anything of it. We were just talking and then Seth came. I didn’t even know he was in town!” She crossed her arms and stared down at her white sneakers. “He started kissing me, and I said I had to get back to work. Then he started groping me, and Todd and Jon joined in.”

Ransom glanced at his watch. He’d been out here approximately fifteen minutes, and the dumpster was right next to the building. “I want you to go inside and tell your manager to come out here right now! Tell him that if he doesn’t hurry, I’m coming in to drag his fat, nasty ass out here.”

Rozene hurried to the door but stopped when Ransom spoke again in a gentler tone. “You’d be wise to listen to your parents, Rozene. I might not be around next time.”

“Yes, sir,” she mumbled before hurrying in.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, Seth,” Ransom taunted as he slowly wound the chain around his gloved hand and addressed the sniveling crying coward on the ground. “Why don’t you tell me what you had planned for Rozene before I interrupted you?”

Seth scooted into a crouching position and held his hands up as if to ward Ransom off. “We wasn’t gonna do nothin’, I swear! We was just havin’ a little bit of fun with her. On my life wasn’t nothin’ gonna happen, man!”

The metal links smashed into the side of his face, causing it to explode from the jarring pain. Stars danced behind his eyelids, and Seth felt his teeth loosen as he fell backward. He turned and tried to scramble away like the coward he was but didn’t get far. With a yelp, he was dragged back and flipped over, so he lay staring up at the stranger who smiled victoriously down at him.

The biker’s boot connected with Seth’s side as the big man delivered kicks to his ribs and abdomen. Breathing already constricted, it became even more impossible to do when Ransom’s chain-covered fist collided with Seth’s face. Mouth pooling with blood, Seth was forced to swallow or choke on it as white-hot pain consumed him, raging like a wildfire as the biker delivered well-placed punishing blows to his face and body.

“Is that how you respect your woman? By treating her like shit and allowing your friends to grope and disrespect her?”

Weakly, Seth tried to ward off the powerful strikes, feebly dodging and kicking, but he was defenseless against Ransom’s relentless fury. His vision was blurred, and Seth felt dizzy and nauseous as his body cracked under the violent duress. The beating seemed to go on forever until finally, he succumbed to the peaceful state of unconsciousness.

“What the hell is going on out here?” The manager that Ransom had seen leaning on the counter laughing and joking while his employee was being harassed stood gaping at Ransom’s handiwork. He took a fearful step back to the door where the rest of the staff, including Rozene, was gathered. “Who are you? Nancy, go call 911!”

Ransom advanced on him, and he turned to run. The grip on his lank, oily ponytail made him cry out as the employees retreated, and Ransom yanked him to the ground. He placed his boot in the middle of the man’s fat, sweaty back and wrapped the bloody chain around his neck and pulled until the blubbering fool was on his knees.

“Let me ask you a question, motherfucker,” Ransom snarled in his ear. “You make it a habit of letting young girls take the trash out by themselves? You weren’t the least bit concerned when your other employees also went missing?”

Ransom put his foot in the man’s back and pulled on the chain until the man turned blue in the face. He stared into the faces of the transfixed employees. “Rozene Martinez and every other woman here are to be treated with the respect and dignity they deserve.” He released the chains and the man fell to his knees twisting and gasping for breath. “Those two assholes no longer work here and are eighty-sixed from the property. If I have to come back here and remind you of these facts, I won’t be so nice. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-Y-Yes, perfectly clear,” the manager coughed. Ransom stepped on his hand and ground his boot on it. “Aaaargh! Fuuuuck!!”

“As long as everyone here understands me.” Ransom ground once more before releasing him and stepping back.

The man staggered to his feet, cradling his hand and waddling for the door. It slammed shut behind him, leaving Ransom alone with the injured men. Seth’s friends carefully got to their feet, observing Ransom warily. “If I hear that you motherfuckers go anywhere near Rozene again or her family, I will make this seem like child’s play. Understand me?”

“Yessir,” the man that Ransom had rammed into the wall squeaked. He broke down crying when he touched his scraped, raw face.

“Good; now get that piece of shit out of here before I change my mind,” Ransom advised sinisterly.

The other man limped over to Seth, and Ransom left him to it. He left the same way he’d come, and when he turned the corner, Ransom wasn’t that surprised to see Jacy leaning against the family’s station wagon, a shotgun in his hand. Rozene sat in the front passenger seat, head hanging and her face averted.

“You know how to use that thing?” Ransom asked indicating the shotgun.

“Crack shot since I was eight. I became concerned when I didn’t see my Rozene.” The older man nodded in the direction Ransom had come. With a somber face, he addressed Ransom. “Is that what you do for a living? You’re very good at it.” 

“This is one of the things I do,” Ransom admitted gruffly. “You won’t have to worry about them bothering Rozene anymore. I’m not just good but effective. This is the least I could do, Jacy. There’s cruelty everywhere, and you and Adsila have been lucky to keep it at bay for as long as you have, but you gotta know it was right there on your doorstep. I remember a Navajo saying you mentioned the night of the robbery: When you see a rattlesnake poised to strike, strike first.”

“That is very true.” Jacy regarded him thoughtfully. “Son, I have to ask, are you on the lam?”

With a mirthless laugh, Ransom scratched at his bearded jaw, a little disappointed by the question. “You really think I’m on the run and would bring that to your door?”

“No,” Jacy replied adamantly. “But if you were, I’d offer you my place as a hideout. It’s the least I could do for all that you’ve done for us.” He reached into the pocket of his faded, worn denim jacket and extracted the roll of money Slade had given Ransom. “Here; take it. I can’t accept this from you. You’ve gone above and beyond already.” 

“You keep that money, Jacy.” Ransom’s tone brooked no room for argument as he reached for his lid and put it on. “Your family gives me a sense of normalcy that I could’ve used growing up. I’m gonna be gone for awhile, and it’d put my mind at ease to know that y’all are doing okay.”

“Ransom, it’s three thousand dollars!”

Jaw stubbornly locked, Ransom curled his hand around Jacy’s. “Like I said, it’ll be one less thing I worry about, friend.”

They embraced each other tightly, and Jacy whispered, “I have been to the end of the earth; I have been to the end of the waters; I have been to the end of the sky; I have been to the end of the mountains; I have found none that I’m more honored to call my friend than you. Nizhónígo ch’aanidíínaał (Have a safe journey) Go with God, son.”

Humbled by his kind words, Ransom’s grip tightened. “Likewise, Jacy.”

Ransom threw his leg over his Harley and started it, thrashing it for good measure as he stared into the diner. The deafening revving of the engine rumbled like thunder in the still night and inside the building, the injured pack of pussies took flight.

Jacy placed a hand on Ransom’s shoulder. “Does your leaving have to do with the woman?”

Ransom stilled at the words then continued to fix his lid strap. Shit, his friend didn’t miss much of anything. “I’m going away for work, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back this way. The woman…happened over the summer. Forget about her. She’s a part of my past.”

“Looks to me like you haven’t left her in the past, Ransom. She is always present with you, and you wear the heavy burden of that loss around you like a cloak.” Eyeing him shrewdly, Jacy added, “All is not lost, friend. Perhaps, one day I’ll be able to meet her so that we may laugh about this temporary setback.”

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Ransom confessed under his breath knowing Jacy couldn’t possibly hear him over the roar of the motorcycle engine, “Believe me, if things were different, I’d like to meet her again too.”