by Lilly Atlas
Chloe was probably meeting with a client. Hopefully she’d show in the next few minutes. In the meantime, Rocket fired up his bike and rode off after his brothers to collect a group of ladies who were not going to appreciate being on lockdown.
Though the ol’ ladies were going to react a hundred times better than Chloe would.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHLOE NAVIGATED THE shopping cart through the bakery section without really seeing the loaves of bread she’d intended to choose from. She was too busy trying to combat the swell of panic.
She was having dinner with Logan.
Logan. A man. A man she’d been sleeping with, and had formed an unconventional but strong emotional bond to. To a normal person, cooking dinner for an interesting man wasn’t exactly a newsworthy event. For Chloe?
Well it might as well be the headline of the year. Not the dinner part, not even the fact that he’d have to be uncuffed for them to share the meal. There was something else she had planned for the evening.
Tonight, she wanted to try something with Logan without handcuffing him to the bed. She wanted him to touch her. Put his fingers on her and in her, and make her come that way.
She had to try it if there was any hope of ever having a semblance of a normal sex life. And she was pretty sure she’d never find a man who made her feel safer and more protected than Logan. Without even knowing what had happened to her, he was extremely protective. She’d never felt better than when Logan was with her. Those feelings had bolstered her confidence and given her the ability to venture out on her own a time or two without panic attacks. Hence this solo shopping trip.
Chloe laughed out loud drawing a few curious stares from fellow shoppers. It was one thing to be crazy in her own head, but completely another thing for the world to see her insanity. With a sheepish smile for an elderly gentleman, she scurried out of the bakery, search for French bread forgotten.
She eyed the wine section and veered her cart in that direction. Liquid courage might be the only thing to quell her nerves. As she turned toward the reds, feminine laughter had her turning toward a group of women loading a cart with bottles.
They seemed close, heads together as they looked at a bottle one of the women held. At first guess, she’d have wagered they were sisters, but the differences in their looks were too vast to make them related in that way.
“Put it in the cart,” the tallest of them said with a pout. She had a fierce look about her. A long black braid hung down the center of her back, nearly brushing her backside. “Can’t believe you all get to float away on wine while I have to drink freakin’ chocolate milk.” She patted her stomach while another of the women, this one short with curly blonde hair, rubbed her back.
Pregnant, maybe.
A smile spread across Chloe’s face. Must be nice to have a close group of girlfriends like that. Even before her kidnapping, Chloe hadn’t had a group of girls she was quite that tight with.
“All right,” another of the women said. Her back was to Chloe. “Let me grab a second bottle of this one. I think I’m gonna like it.” She turned toward the display, hand outstretched and froze statue still the moment her gaze landed on Chloe.
Shit.
Shit.
Everything inside Chloe screamed run, go, move, but she was rooted in place as though bolted to the ground.
Stephanie.
Wife, or girlfriend, or—what had she called it—ol’ lady to one of the Hell’s Handlers bikers. Not the one who’d rode her away from her personal hell, but a biker all the same. A few weeks after Chloe had been released from the hospital, Stephanie had paid her a visit. Checking in on her to see how she was handling the ordeal. Apparently, Stephanie had also been a victim of the Gray Dragon’s cruelty. At least that’s what she’d claimed. Chloe had the impression the visit was more to check on whether she’d run her mouth to the cops, or her family, or a shrink. Even though the messenger was a cute and friendly woman who could somewhat relate to Chole’s experience, she had always wondered if the visit had a more sinister undertone. Did they have eyes on her? Would something mysteriously happen to her if she disobeyed their order of no police?
You can thank the Handlers for this. She’d never forgotten Lefty’s last words to her.
Stephanie’s visit was the one and only time she’d heard from or seen anyone associated with the Hell’s Handlers and she was more than happy to keep it that way. But here Stephanie was. In Chloe’s town. One of the women laughing with her girlfriends as though she didn’t have a care in the world. White hot jealousy joined her dread. Why couldn’t that be her? And more importantly, why the hell were they in her grocery store?
Stephanie broke from her stupor first. Gently setting the bottle of wine in the cart, she said something to her friends that led to the other three sets of eyes turning her way. Each had a curious, but kind look on their face.
With a welcoming smile, Stephanie made her way over to Chloe. “Hey,” she said softly. “This okay? Me talking to you?”
Clearing her throat, Chloe found her voice. “Oh, uh…it’s fine. I guess.”
It’s so not fine.
Stephanie let out a quiet laugh. “You don’t sound very convincing.”
Chloe ran a hand through her hair, cursing internally when her fingers shook. “I’m just surprised to run into you.”
“Me too. You look good,” Stephanie said. “How are you doing?”
“Thank you. I’m doing pretty good.” Ahh, awkward small talk. Who didn’t love it?
The women stared at each other for a moment then laughed at the same time.
“Okay, so this is uncomfortable, huh?” Stephanie said, wrinkling her nose.
“Yeah, it kinda is.”
“Hey!” Stephanie brightened. “We’re about to check out then grab a drink at that hipster coffee shop next door. You should join us.”
If it was possible for someone’s heart to completely stop beating without killing them, Chloe would have sworn hers did. Hang out with them? While a bunch of biker ol’ ladies stared at her and wondered how the poor girl who was gang raped was coping. “Um, I’m not sure.” What she wanted to say was, Hell no!
Had the club sent her? Would she be walking into some kind of ambush? No, it was broad daylight in a crowded shopping center. Maybe she should go. Maybe if they saw she was of absolutely no threat to them, the MC would leave her alone. Or, maybe this was a total coincidence and Stephanie was genuine.
“Look,” Stephanie said, leaning close and dropping her voice “None of them know who you are. I promise.”
She stared at the blonde woman who was either sincere or deserved an Academy Award for her performance. God, she hated how she had no choice but to question every word out of the woman’s mouth.
“I’ll say we know each other from when I lived in DC. We’re a fun bunch. Take a load off for an hour and have a calorie bomb disguised as a fancy coffee with us. I promise no one knows anything.”
Glancing up, Chloe couldn’t stop her puff of laughter, nervous though it may be. Stephanie’s three friends all stared at wine bottle labels like they held the secret to eternal youth. “They aren’t very good at being stealthy.”
“Yeah, they’re a nosy buncha bitches,” Stephanie said but her tone was filled with affection. “Love ’em like sisters though.”
“Um, is your…uh, sorry, I forget his name. Is your boyfriend with you?” Chains and a monster truck couldn’t drag her into the coffee shop if the bikers were around.
“Nope just us girls today. I promise it’ll be a biker free zone.”
One more peek at the other women who weren’t even pretending to hide their eavesdropping anymore and Chloe sighed. They all waved at her and made their way over, smiles on their faces. “All right. Thank you. Coffee sounds good.” She’d go, show them their club was safe from her, and maybe gather some information of her own.
“Yay!” Steph said as she gave Chloe a quick hug. “Guys, this is Cl—Claire. We know each oth
er from back in the day in DC.”
Man, Stephanie could act like no one’s business. Something to remember if they continued to hang out. Which they would not. A new friendship wasn’t worth running into any of the Hell’s Handlers.
“Hi!” Chloe said with a small wave and all the smoothness of gravel.
“Claire, these are my girls. That’s Izzy,” Stephanie said, pointing to the tallest woman with the badass braid. “And this is Shell and Toni.” She pointed to the curly haired blond and then the final girl, just a few inches taller than Shell with brown hair. “Toni owns the diner in Townsend. Have you been there?”
“I have! It’s been a few years, though. And, I’m sorry but I don’t remember seeing you there.”
“Yeah,” Toni said. “I’ve only been at the helm for about a year. So, we checking out or what? I need some caffeine.”
And just like that, the women accepted Chloe. Twenty minutes later, still missing the bread she’d planned to serve alongside her steak and potato meal, she found herself having a blast with four biker chicks. She’d expected thinly disguised questions about her attack designed to ferret out what she’d told the police. But the conversation never ventured close to her kidnapping. True to her word, Stephanie had the girls believing they were friends from a while back.
Chloe discretely checked her phone. She’d give it a few more minutes before she’d beg off and head home to prepare her meal for Logan. Placing the phone down, she tuned back into the conversation at hand.
“Please don’t make me tell the story,” Shell begged, face buried in her hands.
“Oh, you’re telling it,” Izzy replied as she took a bite of a giant chocolate chip cookie. The woman was in fact pregnant, though you could barely tell, a fact Shell seemed to hate her for. “If you don’t tell it, I’m telling it and you don’t want me to do that. I’ll probably throw in some extra stuff I make up for shits and giggles.”
Chloe snorted. Izzy was a trip and it’d be hilarious to witness her raising a baby. Hilarious for these women. She sure wouldn’t be around them after this coffee break. This hanging with the bikers’ women was a one-shot deal. It’s not like she had plans to go to Townsend in the next ten years and one of the women mentioned they didn’t make it out this way often. Just came to check out this newish coffee shop.
“Okay, fine.” Shell dropped her hands and stuck her tongue out at Izzy, which had the table giggling yet again.
Chloe sipped her frothy drink that tasted more like a warm chocolate milk shake than coffee, but it was delicious.
“So,” Shell began, “Beth, my four-year-old daughter,” she said to Chloe. “Beth keeps coming in our room in the middle of the night. Ever since Copper moved in, she’s totally fascinated with him being in the house and sleeping in the bed with me.” She rolled her eyes and turned to Chloe again. “We’re getting ready to move out of my itty-bitty house into something bigger. If you knew Copper, you’d know nothing about him was small.”
The other women snickered.
“Hey,” Shell said with a shrug. “What can I say? I’m blessed.”
“Will you get on with the story already?” Toni said, tossing a crumpled napkin at Shell.
“Sorry, sorry. So we’ve had to start locking the door when we”—she waved her hand around—“you know.”
“Fuck. When you fuck.” Izzy said.
“Seriously?” Shell fired back.
“I don’t know, it’s your story.” Izzy was doing a terrible job hiding her laughter which had the rest of them starting up again.
Man, Chloe would love to be part of this group. Too bad they were involved with a bunch of criminals who may or may not have something to do with her kidnapping. She frowned. Something didn’t quite sit right. These women were strong, independent, not any kind of beaten down or degraded possession like she’d heard of ol’ ladies. Hard to imagine any of them being with men who abused women. But Lefty clearly told her the Handlers were to thank for what he did to her. Could men treat their women okay but order the kidnapping and rape of others? If she didn’t have the horrifying memories as proof, she might not believe it possible.
“Okay shut up and let me finish. So the other night we were—”
“Fucking,” Izzy said.
Everyone glared at her.
“What? I’m not saying making love. That shit’s not happening.”
“Okay, fine, we were fucking,” Shell said way too loud, drawing the attention of a stern-faced older woman reading at the table next to them. With a grimace Shell lowered her voice. “We were fucking and there was a pounding on the door. It was Beth and she was mad. I mean hopping angry at us. She just kept screeching about how it was unfair, and how we didn’t like her, and how we were mean.”
The table had quieted as they all waited for the outcome of the story.
“She pretty much killed the mood, at least for the moment, so I tossed on some clothes and unlocked the door. She marched her sassy little four-year-old self in the room, looked at the television then at us, and said, ‘What did you do with it?’. Neither of us had any idea what she was talking about. Then she said, ‘I know what you were doing in here.’ By now, Copper was laughing his ass off, and I thought I was about to have to call a therapist for my scarred child. When I asked her what she thought we were doing, she said we were watching the Lion King without her and she was very angry at us.”
Toni’s forehead drew down as she blew on the black coffee in her oversized mug. She made up for the low-calorie drink with that plate sized chocolate chip cookie. “The Lion King?”
“Yep,” Shell replied, popping the p. “She said could hear all the wild animals from her room. There was a lion growling, a hyena laughing, and a monkey going ‘ooo ooo, ahh ahh.’ She then crossed her arms and demanded to know why we turned off the TV.”
“Oh, my God,” Toni said, trying so hard not to laugh that she snorted quite loud.
Izzy’s face was turning red and her eyes leaked.
Stephanie held her napkin over her mouth but her shaking shoulders gave her away.
With a roll of her eyes, Shell said, “Go ahead. Laugh your asses off.”
And they did. Even Chloe.
“Wait, wait!” Stephanie said waving her hands in the air. “Which one were you? No, let me guess. You were the hyena, right?” They all dissolved into hilarity once again.
“She totally was!” Toni said, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. “And Copper—oh, my God I can hardly breathe—Copper was the monkey! Ooo ooo, ahh ahh.” She lost it in a fit of hilarity.
“Holy crap,” Chloe said once she was able to breathe again. “You guys are hilarious. I’m so glad I joined you.” She bumped Steph with her shoulder. “Thanks for the invite.”
As Steph smiled at her, she found she truly meant the words. Aside from her time with Logan, this was the most fun she’d had in ages.
“Anytime, sister, anytime.”
Chloe scooted her chair back. “I should probably get going. I’ve got a dinner thing I’m cooking for tonight, and I need to get my groceries home.” Just as she was about to say her goodbyes to the women, the bell over the door jangled.
“Mav!” Steph said with a beaming grin.
For one quick flash, Chloe felt a sharp pang of envy. How wonderful it must be to have a man who could make her light up just at the sight of him.
Oh shit…Stephanie’s man was…Maverick. One of the Hell’s Handlers. Chloe’s hands started to shake and her breathing sped as though she’d run miles. She gripped the edge of the table to keep the group from noticing.
Still grinning like a loon, Stephanie said, “Mav, what are you—uh oh, that’s not a good face. What’s wrong?”
Chloe’s head snapped up, and her gaze landed on four very large, very serious, and very sexy bikers making their way to the table.
The Hell’s Handlers. Shit. She stood on rubbery legs, prepared to flee until a fifth biker came through the door. “Let’s get moving,” he
barked to the group.
Chloe’s jaw dropped and a strangled sound fell out. Everything she’d experienced during those horrifying forty-eight hours came stampeding back to her from the moment she woke up in her trunk, to the assault, to the agonizing motorcycle ride to the hospital. The burden of pain and shame returned as though the kidnapping happened minutes ago instead of months.
“Shit,” Stephanie said. She’d turned away from her ol’ man and was biting her lip as she stared at Chloe. “Chloe, I had no idea they’d be here. I swear it.” Her eyes widened. “Chloe? Are you okay?”
She couldn’t answer Stephanie to save her life. Her mouth had gone completely dry and her throat had constricted so tight she couldn’t even squeak.
The late-coming biker approached the table. Chloe could barely process what she was seeing. He was out of the dress shirt and pants, and wearing faded denim and a leather vest. A chain hung around his neck and rings adorned two of his fingers. Gone was the polished look, replaced by a far more casual style. Almost grungy.
He was one of them.
A biker.
Logan was one of the Hell’s Handlers.
Her entire body began to tremble like a leaf in a category five hurricane. Try as she might, she had no control over the convulsing of her muscles.
“We good?” he asked as he reached the table. His gaze hit her then a wide-eyed expression of shock that should have been comical crossed his face. He let out a harsh curse. Last weekend she’d have said Logan was unflappable. Right now, the man was beyond flapped. “Chloe,” he said, blinking and looking to Stephanie as though she would provide the answer to why they were in the same place at the same time. Oh, and with all his biker buddies present, of course.
Logan was a biker.
Like gears slamming into place, Chloe heard the pieces of the puzzle connecting in her head. From the very first time she’d laid eyes on Logan in the bar, something about him was vaguely familiar.
