Still Standing: Wild West MC Series

by Ashley, Kristen

  “That’s crazy,” I whispered.

  “That’s the choice you made.”

  “I didn’t have all the information!” My voice was rising, and unfortunately, it was rising somewhat hysterically.

  “Too late,” he replied.

  “That’s crazy too!”

  “Baby, keep your voice down. Tatie’s sleepin’,” he said softly.

  “That’s crazy too,” I repeated on a whisper.

  He grinned. “Yeah, it’s crazy. It’s fuckin’ nuts to a lotta people out there. But you, you get it. You get it was bad. And you get how you found good.”

  Yes, I did get that.

  But like he said, I also got the bad.

  And in that moment, that was my focus.

  So I shook my head. “Oh no, I don’t.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t think you did either. I thought it’d take you a while before we broke you in. But, darlin’, I heard what you said to Conley. I saw you open the door and position yourself in it, protecting your territory and puttin’ yourself between him and your people. I heard every fuckin’ word you said. And I knew when I listened, you got it. So now I know, you’re hurt and pissed I marked you. What you don’t know is, I’m pissed at myself for doin’ it. If I could take it back, I would. Bust my balls, break my back to erase those marks from you, but more, how you got ’em. It sucks, and huge, that I can’t. It also sucks, and huge, that someone touched my girl with the intent to do her even worse harm. And Clara, baby, you know that in my world, that means payback, instant, swift, painful. And you were standin’ in my way. Next time, you’ll know not to stand in my way.”

  “So that’s it?” I asked.

  He grinned and gave me a squeeze, his hand leaving my hair so he could wrap his arm around my waist. “Yep, that’s it.”

  “So when you get angry about something else, I don’t stand in your way but somehow get in your way, do you get to put your hands on me?”

  His grin died and his eyes narrowed.

  “Babe,” he warned low.

  “I’d like to know and think I’m entitled to that knowledge.”

  “Shit isn’t jacked, like it was last night, you got nothin’ to fear from me.”

  “You’re sure?”

  His arms gave me a different kind of squeeze.

  “That isn’t cool, Clara.”

  That isn’t cool?

  “I’m entitled to know, West.”

  His face dipped close to mine and his eyes were suddenly angry.

  “What you get when you get me is what Tatie got last night. And I’ll remind you, you’ve already had it. Someone hurt you, Clara, and I hunted his ass down and I beat the shit out of him. I beat him until he was down and I kept beating him until he was no longer moving. Anyone hurts you or tries to hurt you, that’s what they get. When you get me, you get my protection. I’m tellin’ you, and I said it so many goddamned times, it’s got to be in your fuckin’ brain by now, I wasn’t thinkin’ last night and you were standin’ in the way of me exacting retribution for my…fuckin’…daughter. I apologized, and I explained, and you need to let it sink in, babe, and you need to do that fast. You’ve seen me mad and you’ve made me mad, and you know, Toots, you fuckin’ know you got nothin’ to fear from me. Now don’t play this game. Not now. Not this mornin’. You aren’t good at games, babe, and doin’ it now, you’re only pissin’ me off.”

  I pulled in my lower lip and bit it.

  What I didn’t do was say anything more.

  “You done bein’ a pain in the ass?” he asked.

  I didn’t think I was being a pain in the ass.

  I thought my reactions and my questions were perfectly justified.

  Obviously, I needed to make a phone call to Minnie and ask her how I should have reacted.

  I didn’t share this with Buck.

  Instead I shared I was not done being a pain in the ass.

  I did this by stating, “West, you beat up some kids.”

  “Right, and how would you want that to go?” he bit out.

  “We should have called the police,” I pointed out the obvious.

  “One, Clara, they are not kids. They’re adults. Legally and otherwise. They’re old enough to know better, and just sayin’, even if they were goddamn twelve, anyone with a dick should be old enough to know better than to hurt a girl like that.”

  Oh boy.

  Now he was getting in there.

  Because he was so, so right.

  And he wasn’t done.

  “Two, babe, I know how that would go down. You know how that would go down. You got her clothes and you got those pictures, but some asshole like Armitage gets her on the stand, he talks about her short skirt and how she was seen shitfaced drunk with her face made up too much just weeks ago, and suddenly, no matter what she says, a jury not of her peers thinks in their fucked-up heads she was askin’ for it. So jacked, somehow, they forget she should be able to wear what she wants and cake so much makeup on her face, it’s draggin’ on her skin, and it’s her choice and it don’t say dick. And it sure as fuck doesn’t say, ‘come and rape me.’”

  Yes, he was getting in there.

  Because he was so, so right.

  “Three, woman, I don’t want my daughter to go through that. My estimation, she’d been through enough. She didn’t need to go to the hospital and have them swabbing for DNA and taking photos and cops askin’ her shit. And then the long haul after, bringin’ it up day in and day out, until, by a miracle, seein’ as she’s the daughter of a biker, and those boys got pedigree, she might find justice, but they tear her to shreds before she gets that. So she not only has to find a way to live with what they did to her, she’s gotta live with the memory of a justice system that doles that out to an innocent girl who was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time with the way wrong assholes.”

  He shook his head and kept going.

  “No, I did not want that for her. So I got justice for her. And I got no clue how a man like that might behave, considering how they’ve already done it. But I can hope the beatdown me and Gear delivered will make them think twice before they ever,” he put his face in mine, “ever do that to another girl.”

  “Okay, Buck,” I whispered.

  He pulled back a smidge, and was in such a state, one I had to admit he was absolutely entitled to, he carried on.

  “Just so you got the full picture, Clara, it is my thought that if you let loose the fathers and brothers and husbands, and equal opportunity and all that shit, mothers and sisters and whoever of girls and women who face what my little girl did last night. Let them loose on the assholes who do it. I bet it’d happen a fuckuva lot less. So, if you asked me, what me and Gear did last night should happen to every fuckin’ one of them.”

  If pressed, sometime before last night, and before what Esposito did to Tia, I might be able to come up with a suitable argument to that statement.

  But only if pressed.

  Buck kept going.

  “So last night, what Tatie got was a good woman who looked after her and a father and brother who went out and took care of business. My baby girl faced what she faced last night and came home to safety. That’s what she got. All she got. And now we keep takin’ care of her and she gets to move on.”

  “Okay, Buck,” I repeated in a whisper.

  He studied me closely and did this awhile before his face relaxed and his arms gave me another squeeze, this one the good kind. At the same time, the tension ebbed out of his body.

  Then he muttered, “Good.” He dipped his head, his mouth brushing mine and then he lifted it again and ordered, “Now get some socks on, we’re sittin’ on the deck, havin’ coffee and waitin’ ’til the kids get up for breakfast.”

  And I said the only thing I could say at that juncture.

  “Okay, Buck.”

  20

  Waffles

  I lifted my legs off Buck’s, set my stocking feet on the deck and straightened out of my chair.


  “Where you goin’?” Buck asked, and I looked down at him to see him looking up at me.

  I lifted my mug.

  “More coffee,” I muttered, then to be polite, my eyes shifted to his mug, and I offered, “Do you need a refill?”

  He offered his mug to me, murmuring, “Yeah.”

  I took it and started toward the door, but his arm wrapped around my belly, and I stopped.

  I looked back down at him to see he was still looking up at me.

  “Come here,” he said quietly.

  “I am here, West,” I pointed out the obvious.

  His eyes moved over my face while he muttered, “No one calls me West. Used to like it when you’d call me West. Today, the way you’re sayin’ my name, not so much.”

  I waited patiently, but I didn’t reply.

  His eyes moved to mine.

  “Come here,” he repeated.

  “I’m not certain how much more here I can get,” I told him.

  “Closer,” he stated.

  I sighed.

  Then I bent to him.

  “Closer, babe,” he said softly.

  I bent closer, he lifted his arm, cupped the back of my head with his hand, and he brought me even closer.

  So close, my mouth was nearly on his.

  “West,” I whispered.

  “That’s better,” he whispered back.

  I blinked. “Sorry?”

  “You can whisper my name sweet like that. That’s better.”

  Oh God.

  “I need more caffeine,” I informed him.

  “Yeah, and you can get it after you kiss me.”

  Oh God.

  Not this again.

  “What?”

  “Babe, we fight, we stop fightin’, you work out the rest of your attitude by kissin’ me.”

  “Is that an order?” I asked, and he grinned.

  “Yeah.”

  “Whatever,” I muttered, bent even closer, touched my mouth to his then touched my tongue to his lips, those lips opened, my tongue slid inside, and I allowed myself to enjoy the taste of him.

  I drank my fill, and as weak as it made me, I loved every second of it.

  Before he could take the kiss out of my control, which meant out of all control, I broke contact and pulled away two inches where I stopped because his fingers flexed on my head.

  He studied me again then murmured, “Thinkin’ that didn’t work.”

  “Buck, I’ve had about two hours of sleep. I need caffeine.”

  “Kids weren’t here, babe, I’d try a different way to work out your attitude.”

  Proving just how weak I was, my nipples got hard.

  “Can I go get coffee?”

  He grinned again, his hand left my head, and he relented on a, “Yeah.”

  I escaped.

  We were both on our second cups (Buck had done the first refill) and I poured new ones then set them aside as I cleaned out the filter and pot to start another one going. I’d need more and both Locke and Tatiana drank it too.

  And I wanted Tatie’s coffee to be fresh.

  I was scooping coffee into the filter, thinking that the good news was, some time had elapsed, and the sheriff hadn’t come calling, when I sensed movement.

  My hand froze mid-scoop, I turned and saw Tatiana wearing her cute pajama bottoms and tight little camisole standing by the counter.

  I wondered what today would bring, if the drama last night meant a breakthrough that was permanent or temporary.

  She stared at me. I stared at her. Her lip was less fat, but a bruise had risen on her cheekbone.

  Okay.

  Yes.

  I was so totally glad Buck and Gear beat the shit out of those boys.

  Finally, when I could take it no more, I whispered, “Hey, honey.”

  That was when she moved.

  Her bare feet quickly eating the distance, she threw her arms around me, pressed her cheek against my shoulder and ground coffee went everywhere.

  I dropped the scoop and wrapped my arms around her.

  It took a while for me to realize she was crying.

  “That’s it, baby,” I whispered, bending my head toward her and stroking her hair. “Get it out.”

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled into my chest.

  “What? Why?” I asked.

  She tipped her head back, her eyes caught mine, and she wailed loudly, “I was such a bitch about your car!”

  Then she burrowed her face into my neck and her sobs got louder.

  Golly.

  I forgot about my car.

  I heard the door open, and I lifted my eyes, but not my head, to see Buck walk in.

  “Don’t worry about that,” I told Tatiana, my gaze on Buck.

  “If I wasn’t such a baby, if I didn’t take off on a hissy fit, I wouldn’t—”

  Oh no.

  Oh no, she was not.

  My hand curved around her head and I dipped my lips to her ear. “Don’t,” I cut her off. “Don’t make what happened your fault. Don’t you do that, Tatie. It was not your fault. Not a lick of it.”

  “I went off, lookin’ for trouble,” she sobbed into my chest, tipped her head back and cried, “And I found it!”

  I cupped her healthy cheek in my hand. “You went looking for a way let off steam, honey. No woman looks for that kind of trouble.”

  “I…I…liked one of those guys!” she wailed. “He never paid attention to me! I thought he was bein’ nice, me bein’ angry and all, listening. But he wasn’t. He was just…just…”

  “Shh,” I whispered, moving my thumb to her lips. “He was just a jerk. He was just a big, fat, horrible jerk.”

  She blinked.

  Then she said around my thumb, “He’s not a jerk, Clara, he’s an asshole.”

  I smiled at her. “That too.”

  She stared at me.

  I pulled in breath, took my thumb from her lips and decided to change the subject.

  “This is our deal, okay? Weekends, you get the Charger. Weekdays, when you’re with your mom, I get it. We share. I think I can talk your dad into that. Do we have a deal?”

  “You’d do that?”

  I shrugged. “Sure. I don’t need a car much anyway.”

  “No, I mean talk to Dad for me.”

  “Well,” my eyes slid over her shoulder to Buck, “I don’t really have to since he’s standing right there and any dad’s going to see that’s a perfectly sensible arrangement.”

  Buck’s lips twitched but Tatiana jerked around.

  “Dad,” she whispered, her body tight.

  Buck’s attention went from me to Tatiana. “Come here, darlin’.”

  She didn’t move and didn’t speak, not for a while.

  Finally, she asked quietly, “You aren’t mad?”

  “Come here, Tatie.”

  She hesitated then, slowly at first, she walked to him. It didn’t take long, though, before she ran and threw her arms around him.

  He folded her little body into his big one and held her close, bending to put his lips to her hair.

  “I’m not mad, baby,” he muttered there.

  I turned back to the coffee, not wanting more conflicting feelings about West Hardy and our crazy relationship. I had enough of those. Too many. And seeing him being a caring and loving dad would add to them.

  As I turned, out of the sides of my eyes I saw movement, and I twisted my neck to see Gear standing there.

  Buck had taken the time to change his T-shirt and wash the blood from his knuckles. Gear hadn’t yet taken that time.

  I walked to him and grabbed his hand but kept my eyes on his, which were locked on his sister.

  “You need to clean up, Locke,” I said softly, and he tore his eyes from his sister and looked down at me. I squeezed his hand. “Give your sister a hug and then go clean up. I’ll make you a coffee and your dad’s making breakfast. Tatie’s choice this morning.”

  “Waffles,” Tatiana said instantly, and Gear and I loo
ked at her to see that Buck had hooked her around the neck and tucked her to his side. She had both arms around his middle and was pressing in.

  “Waffles,” I agreed, squeezed Gear’s hand again and turned back to him.

  That hand twisted so I had no choice but to let it loose.

  But he didn’t move away, and he didn’t move to his sister.

  Instead, he hooked his arm around my neck and he tucked me into his side, just like his dad had Tatie.

  “Waffles,” Gear muttered, giving my neck a squeeze.

  Hesitantly, I wrapped my arms around Gear’s middle and my eyes moved to Tatiana.

  Golly.

  So this was what being part of a family felt like.

  I wished I didn’t know this.

  I was conflicted. I was unsure. I got where Buck’s head had been at, I felt for him that he opened the bathroom door and saw what he saw, but I was still angry at their father.

  But I had to admit, I liked the feel of family.

  A lot.

  Tatiana grinned at me.

  I couldn’t stop it and didn’t try.

  I grinned back.

  * * *

  “Jesus, your life’s pretty crazy, babe,” Minnie said in my ear.

  It was late evening.

  I was on my back on top of the covers on Buck’s bed.

  It was after waffles.

  It was after Buck made a call, took a shower, got dressed and took off to places unknown after he gave his daughter a hug and a kiss on the temple, grabbed me by the back of the head and laid a long, wet one on me and then gave his son a meaningful look.

  He then took off, not yet to return.

  It was also after I cleaned the house and did a bunch of laundry.

  Tatie started helping while I was vacuuming. She disappeared to the utility room and came back with a load of freshly laundered towels, folding them on the kitchen counter.

  After that, she stuck to me like glue.

  If I was cleaning a bathroom, she was in it cleaning with me. She helped me strip the beds. Then she helped me make them.

  I told her to rest, but she shook her head.

  After that, I let her do whatever she wanted to do.