“I’m Marcia.”
Sam looks curious. “Is that what you prefer to be called? Heart told us you liked Marc.”
“Marc’s the name my brother gave to me. No one else ever used it but my family.”
Damn, I’ve become too relaxed. Sam’s picked up on it, I can see by the way her eyes sharpen. In recent years, Heart’s the only one I’ve willingly allowed to call me by my childhood nickname. And to this day, I have no idea why. As her eyes query me I shake my head in a silent plea, but watching her face, I see her lips curve into a small, knowing smile.
As the women come and surround me, taking up what seats they can find, a male voice barks in an amused voice, “Christ, you lot are like vultures sensing fresh fuckin’ meat. Now scat, I need to talk with Marc for a while.”
Glancing up, I see Drummer leaning against the door, his face softening as he spies his woman and his son. Sam gets to her feet. Scooping up Eli, she grins, nods at me, and then goes to the door, pausing so Drummer can take a kiss from her lips, so hot it almost makes me swoon, before he places a more chaste one on his son’s head. “She prefers to be called Marcia by the rest of us.”
I’m slightly stunned she picked that up so quickly and thought to tell him.
One by one the others leave, Sophie collecting her daughter, and Jayden trying to pry Amy from my lap. Amy protests, and her little hands grip me.
While we’re trying to gently extract her, another voice sounds, “Amy, sweetheart. You can visit with Marc later. Go with Jayden now, darlin’.”
“Daddy!” The child squeals and wriggles away, running over to her father. Heart balances crutches on his arms, and while he obviously can’t pick her up, pulls her in against his legs and hugs her to him. My stomach clenches as I get my first sight of father and daughter together. Memories come back to me of our conversations on his journey as he went through the myriad of emotions, first wanting nothing to do with her, feeling he wasn’t good enough for her, and then his longing to come home and see her again. I feel pride in my small part at bringing them back together, and discretely I wipe water from my eye.
After a cuddle, a tickle and a promise to see her later, Amy at last takes the teenager’s hand and allows herself to be led away.
The temperature in the room seems to drop by a few degrees now I’m left with the two bikers.
Drummer moves into the middle of the room and Heart steps just inside the door, heavily leaning on two crutches. He may still have some way to go, but he looks a darn sight better than when I last saw him in the hospital. It’s his face, though, that I notice most as a myriad of expressions crosses it, moving through gentle while interacting with his daughter, now settling into a frown as he looks toward me.
For six weeks I’ve tried to put him out of my mind. Now the fact that I’ve been unsuccessful slams into me. Particularly as I’m seeing him as if in full technicolour, rather than my previous sightings, looking pale and laid up in a hospital bed. He’s tall, taller than I expected, attractive long dirty-blond hair reaching just past his shoulders. His piercing blue eyes which look bright and clear, well-defined tanned cheeks, and a full mouth, make me want to lick my lips. Girl, pull yourself together.
“Marcia,” Drummer says sharply to get my attention. As I turn to look at him, I immediately stand. It’s like being dragged into the principal’s office. His smile for Sam has completely cleared from his face.
Chapter Nineteen
Heart…
Whether it’s just dictated by circumstances, or whether Drummer’s punishing me in some way, I’m to become Marc’s jailer with the instruction to treat her as I would my old lady. That leaves me with the responsibility for ensuring she doesn’t step one foot out of line. I’m to be her shadow, making certain she’s no chance to go poking around, keeping her away from any of our business, which is none of hers. While the majority of what we do nowadays is above board, we still keep ourselves to ourselves, unwilling to let any outsider in. A representative of law enforcement is definitely a person who’s kept on the perimeter.
Old lady. The term that I’ve only ever applied to one woman and had never thought to give to another again. But even if I refrain from using the term myself, others will be exploiting it at my expense. It’s a joke to them, a worthy punishment for getting involved with a cop. But to me, it’s not right, it’s borrowed. It’s not hers. Crystal’s been dead for getting on for a year, but that’s not enough. A whole lifetime wouldn’t be long enough to grieve.
As the real old ladies sort themselves out and leave, I look around. Dart and I used to have the two suites in this bloc, being best friends and often partners in crime. But his is now empty, as he’s made the permanent move to become VP of the San Diego chapter. And mine, well, that’s not been used for more than ten months, and even before that, once I was married, it had only become somewhere for Crystal and me to crash when we stayed on the compound.
The only difference between the two suites is that mine has a single bed along with a king-sized, shrinking the area, but meaning Amy can stay there as well. Although for now we’ll see how it goes. While I’m babysitting law enforcement, Drummer and Sam have offered to keep my daughter at their house at the top of the compound, where up to now I’ve been living as their guest. At least I’m lucky that Marc will have her own space, as I will have mine, and they haven’t gone so far as to force us to share a room.
But this situation means I’m forced to pick up the strands of my old life again. I’m not looking forward to entering my old space and seeing the ghosts which will be there. Although the girls had thoughtfully cleared her stuff out, everything else will remain much the same. Fuck it, I still miss you, Crystal, still expect you to walk in that door.
Drummer’s looking at Marc as though he could kill her with his bare hands, although it was his decision to bring her back for her safety. Looking at his face now, I’m wondering if he’s rethinking that hasty move. Why should he care what happens to one of the enemy? He’s done it for me, for the debt owed her as I’m still breathing. I lean against the doorframe for support, hoping my gut feeling is right, that we can trust her, and that she’s not looking to bring us down. My friendship with her wasn’t that of a biker, just a lonely man on the road trying to recover from the loss of his wife. Now I’ve resumed my role as a fully patched member, the dynamics of our relationship will have to change.
“Marcia,” he repeats, the tone of his voice making her stand up. “We’re extending our hospitality to you. This morning proved you’re a risk to yourself, and that you’re not safe. Being here, though, well that brings its own problems.” He pauses and gives her the full force of his stare. “I don’t know what you know about this club. We have two types of women here. Sweet butts—our club whores—and old ladies.” I see a range of expressions crossing her face, one being indignation as if she expects to be asked to service the men, but Drummer doesn’t give her long enough to protest, just carries on explaining.
“When a man takes an old lady, he’s takes responsibility for her. It has to be a club vote before we let anyone in. You’re not sweet butt material.” I watch her bristle as though she’s being insulted, but again he gives her no time to object. “Heart has agreed to take you as his ol’ lady. You’ll answer to him, and he’ll be responsible for your behaviour in and toward the club. As any other ol’ lady, you’re welcome in the clubroom, the kitchen, and such communal areas. Everything else is out-of-bounds. Heart will show you around and where you can go.”
Her eyes have come to mine and are open wide. Beautiful blue eyes which flare. “I’ve not agreed to be anyone’s ‘old lady.’” She even uses her fingers to put the term in quotes. “I’m not looking for a man, and if I were—”
“You might not have gone looking, but that’s what you’ve ended up with.”
I never realised she had a temper before, but suddenly her eyes are blazing and she’s standing up to the prez. “I’m a cop, have you forgotten? It’s one thing for me
to hide out here for a few days, quite another to be given a label of possession.”
“A few days?” Drummer’s face goes dark at her challenge. “You think all this will blow over in such a short time?” He flicks his eyes toward me. “Heart, take her gun, and check for her ankle holster too.”
Awkwardly, having been a very long time since I had my hands on any woman, I do as he says, and as he expected, come up with two guns. Turning, I go and lock them into the safe in my room.
When I return, Prez is still watching her. He moves fast, taking her by surprise and grabbing her by both shoulders. “Put one toe over the line, Marcia. Go where you’re not supposed to, speak one word of anything you see or hear…” He pauses for effect. “And no one will find your body.”
I watch her shiver, as if the air’s grown cold, and have a strange desire to comfort her and explain he doesn’t mean it. The problem is, I know that he does.
She pulls back her shoulders and stands straight. “I think I’d rather take my chances on my own.”
“Not gonna happen.”
While I’m still reeling with having her stuck at my side, I realise it’s time I stepped up. I see the way her little hands are fisting, and I don’t want to see what happens if she tries to take the prez on. “Marc.” I swing myself over to join them. “Marc,” I say more softly. “Whatever’s going on will be sorted faster if we both work together. We’ve got two enemies in common, the Herreras and the cops. Pool some of our information,” not all, of course, “and we might reach answers quicker. Mouse can help with your research, and you can tell us why you’re targeting the crime family.”
“I can do that without becoming your property,” she snarls at me.
I don’t blame her. “I like it about as much as you do.” But I admire her spirit. Crystal was energetic, loud at times, always excited and enjoying life. But she’d have backed down at the slightest opposition, always looking to me to take the lead. Marc, though. Marc would challenge me every single step of the fuckin’ way. If she really was my old lady. Which she’s not.
She’s staring at me, as though only just seeing me. And as we can count the number of actual meetings on one hand, and until today, almost all of those I’d always been lying flat in a bed, this is the first time. I’m a proud man, so when her face twists in a sneer and she turns back to Drummer, I feel the stirrings of anger that I’ve been so easily dismissed. What was my earlier desire? To take her over my knee and spank her for putting herself in danger? Well, she might just have ensured she’s earned that. She is, for all intents and purposes, my old lady after all.
“It’s impossible, Drummer. If you insist on keeping me here, I’ll repay you by being blind, deaf, and dumb. If you’re going to do something I’ll find hard to ignore, please keep it out of my sight. I don’t shit on my own doorstep, and for a while, at least, it seems this is going to be mine. But I won’t be given to any man whose job is to control me.”
Strangely, Drummer’s mouth is turning up at the corner, and I get the feeling he’s actually enjoying this shit. Two unwilling people being forced into line.
“Hate to remind you, Marcia, but you fought by our side in LA when we extracted Heart. You killed a man. Your hands aren’t clean, darlin’. You best remember that.”
“You threatening me, Drummer?”
“Just reminding you of the truth of it.” Her quick look away shows she’s aware of what she did. Then she glances my way, as if hating her desire to protect me has put her in this position.
Drummer runs his hands through his hair and looks at me, then back to her. “Can’t say any of us like this situation, but we will make it work. Marcia, you might have to put up with some dirty looks, maybe insults. Some of the brothers have had run-ins with cops.”
Actually, I suspect most of us have. The changes I’d noticed to the compound were as a direct result of Marc and her partner, Archer, coming here with a warrant and smashing the place up. A small smile plays at my lips. Actually, they’d done us a favour. The clubhouse I’d returned to was far better furnished than it had ever been before. I suspect the influx of old ladies had something to do with that too. In a way it’s lucky Crystal hadn’t been here, it would have ended up far more colourful rather than muted and tasteful.
I thought of Crystal without getting that pain in my heart. The realisation makes me feel guilty, as if I’ve been unfaithful.
“Dirty looks, snide comments I can deal with. It’s nothing I haven’t coped with before. A cop’s got to have a thick skin, Drummer.”
I’d zoned out of the conversation and now bring myself back.
“You’re not a cop here, darlin’,” I tell her.
Prez jerks his chin in my direction. “You’re here as Heart’s woman.”
Oh no, she’s fucking not.
“I’m not fucking him!” Her hand goes to her mouth.
Drummer’s face creases. “Never suggested you would. That’s something the two of you can work out.”
Marc’s eyes are looking at me, widening in horror, but other signs betray her. Her cheeks are flushing, and she seems to be taking in air fast. Is she attracted to me? Fuck it, I haven’t been with a woman since I was last with my wife. But in that moment, the thought that I’ll spend the rest of my life as a monk suddenly becomes challenged. Marc? Well, if I had to, the first stirring in my cock in ten months suggests that I could. If I had to that is, to keep her in line.
Up to now I’ve only thought about the weight that Prez has put around my neck. Now I take pity on her. Closing the gap between us, I rest my elbow on my crutch and reach out my hand to touch her under her chin. I turn her head to face me. “Stop overthinking it. We’ll work it out. Being claimed as an old lady gives you protection in the club. No other asshole will bother you. Just remember, we’re on the same side.”
“For how long, Heart?”
I shake my head. “For as long as it takes. I owe you, darlin’. I’m not gonna let you risk your life when you saved mine.” And then I realise how I might be able to get through to her. “Good guys, bad guys. Stay and let’s sort it out.” She’d had it all straight in her head, and now it’s gotten all twisted up. A brief wave of sympathy for her comes over me, knowing the reason why she chose the career that she did. “Once everything’s settled I’ll cut you loose, and you can go back to your home—my old house, or a new one, whatever you want. And your job.”
She’s not one of us, and never will be.
Drummer’s nodding, but his expression has returned to a frown. I realise I’m being ungrateful. The only reason he’s keeping her out of danger is because of the debt that I need to repay. He’ll pick up flack for bringing her here. A favour he did for me. I nod toward him. “We’ll sort it out.” I repeat the promise I made to her.
Drummer turns to leave, patting my shoulder as he walks past. Now what was that? A gesture of support, or of sympathy? Fuck knows with the prez.
“Well, this is awkward,” Marc says once we’re left alone. As I raise my eyebrow she continues, “Up to now, we’ve only spoken on the phone, except for the times I saw you in the hospital. And now I’m supposed to be yours.”
Using my crutches, I limp to the chair and ease myself down. “You’re only mine so someone has responsibility for you. Drummer’s right, women are only one of two things in the club.”
“It sounds Neanderthal.”
“It’s the way it is, and it works for us.”
I’m glad she’s relaxed enough to go sit on the bed. “I feel like Alice dropped down the rabbit hole.”
I smile, liking the analogy.
“What do you expect from an old lady, Heart?”
Now’s the chance to put her straight. “Had an old lady. Could never replace her.” As my cock twitches again, reminding me it might come back to life, I realise what I’d thought was impossible could feasibly happen. So I’m completely honest. “Not saying you’d never end up in my bed, you’re an attractive woman, Marc.”
Sh
e’s on her feet again, her arms waving in the air. “It doesn’t work like that. I don’t work like that. I don’t mind a fuck buddy, but I never get close, Heart.”
Fuck buddy sounds good to me, and I’ll be fucked if my cock doesn’t start to lengthen. “Who says we’re gonna get close? Can’t give you that.” Crystal’s still got my heart. “We’re friends already, Marc. Being in this position, if we both want it, means we can be friends with benefits.”
“We became friends over the phone.”
“Face-to-face just changes the dynamic is all.” And fuck me, now I’m considering it, the thought of her in my bed holds some attractions. If my cock’s started working again, like any man, I’d need a release. I’d probably have started using the sweet butts. Now I’ve got a decent enough specimen with no one to blink an eye if I take that next step, and no emotion attached. Ten months is a fucking long time not to get your dick wet.
She glances at me, and just as quickly away, and once again her face flushes red.
“How’s your head? Are you healed?”
She gasps then spits out, “I’m not going to have sex!”
I chuckle. “I’m not asking for that. Darlin’, I don’t expect you to spread your legs right now. Just putting the offer on the table if you want to pursue it.” When I walked in the room it had been the last thing on my mind. Now I realise I really wouldn’t object to sinking what is now my very alert and interested cock into her cunt. “I asked to find out if you’re going to have any problems. If you need painkillers or the like.”
After glancing my way as if to test I’m not lying, she touches her hand to her skull, maybe to indicate where the injury was. “The bones have fused and healed, but yes, I’m likely to get headaches for some time. They’ll gradually fade, and already I’m getting them less often now. I brought painkillers with me.”
“They incapacitate you?”
“Some do, like a bad migraine, you know?”
Crystal used to get those, so yeah, I do.
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