Dirty Deeds

by James, Nicole

  “I found what I wanted. It doesn’t seem possible, but it is. It’s you. I love you.”

  “Stop!” My voice is harsher than I intended.

  She catches her breath and lets it out in a last small plea as I draw her to me. “I do love you, Reno. I’m not afraid to say it. Please, can’t we stay together?”

  “I’m taking you back. And you’re not talking me out of it.”

  Kara—

  I push out of his arms, yank down a towel, and wrap it around myself.

  “Babe—”

  I snatch up my clothes and stalk out the bathroom door. Tears well up blinding me as I dress. Last night—even this morning—I’d thought we’d shared something beyond need and want.

  How laughable I am. How can I think he’d love me back? Why would he? What an idiot I am. Naturally he’ll take what I offer.

  And what do I see in him to make me beg for a word of love, like a child for candy? Yes, he’s good looking, but so what? He’s a liar, a kidnapper, and who knows what else. He’s a lot older than I am, and perhaps what I mistake for strength is just stubbornness. Maybe what seems to be compassion is only self-interest. He’s nothing. I gave myself cheaply and eagerly to nothing.

  I drop to a seat on the bed in an agony of tears, the sobs tearing at my throat. I don’t hear him approach. He stands in front of me, dressed and silent. I get to my feet, wiping at my tears and running nose. Dear God, why do I still cry like a child?

  Other women can shed their tears and pat them away, looking doe-eyed. Not me, I ugly cry.

  He doesn’t speak. When does he ever? But he offers me a tissue from a box sitting on the dresser. I snatch it from him. I turn my back and wipe my eyes and nose.

  I brush past him toward the bathroom, hating him for offering it. I close the door and dress. When I come out, neither of us speaks.

  He lets the silence between us grow as he straps the gear to his bike parked outside. I sit, not helping, anger still fresh. I long for him to speak—will it, so I can ignore him. If he dares to tell me off for my childishness, I’ll let loose a volley of cuss words. If he dares offer one word of regret or love now, I swear I’ll throw them back in his face! My throat aches with the pent-up words, but he says nothing.

  Rusty returns, and they speak quietly between them. I catch parts of it. Seems Rusty has other things to take care of and is good with leaving my return in the hands of Reno. They make plans to meet up back here when Reno’s gotten rid of me, I’m sure.

  I walk outside, knowing this ride is inevitable now.

  Rusty looks at me. “You take care, kid. Okay?”

  I nod woodenly.

  He goes into the room and closes the door.

  Reno digs something out of the pack and steps over to me.

  He offers me half of a candy bar from a vending machine at the rest area where we stopped on the way here. It’s my favorite, peanut butter cups. I shake my head dumbly. Even my hunger is precious fuel to my fire.

  He throws his leg over his bike and lifts it off the kickstand. When he fires it up, he merely hands me the helmet instead of helping me. In my mind I’ve already shoved aside his helping hand. With no chance to do so, I swing myself onto the small seat behind him, a little ashamed of my silent tantrum.

  I realize that he’s handling me, and successfully. If Rusty saw it, he’d applaud him.

  “Hang on,” is all the warning I get before he twists the throttle and pulls out of the spot, roaring toward the street.

  It’s not long before the wind in my face and the roar of the motorcycle under me wash away all thoughts of anger. This is my first ride, and may very well end up being my last if Reno has his way. I decide to enjoy it. How can I not? It’s exhilarating beyond anything I could have imagined. I understand now what he loves about his life. He told me once that this was the best part of MC life—blasting down the highway. I understand at last. The freedom is addicting.

  ***

  We arrive at my father’s home as dusk is falling. There’s a gate at the end of the long drive. Trees tower overhead as Reno stops the bike. We climb off.

  This is it. Too soon the ride is over. I can’t help asking him. “Why are you making this so awful?”

  “Kara, you know why I don’t want you involved in this. My life is dangerous. I don’t want you hurt. The clock is ticking, and I need to see if I can stay alive and ahead of Rat until Rusty and I figure out what to do about him and our club. You’ll only be in the way, and that could put you at risk. I need you to stay here with your family where I know you’re safe. It’s better this way.”

  “Do you really want that? Do you really want to say goodbye?”

  He takes my head in his hands. “No one’s ever loved me the way you do. No one’s ever believed in me like you. I do love you, baby. More than I have ever loved anyone, more than I thought I was capable of, but the reason I need to go and do this is that if we have any hope of a life, if I want to have anything to give you someday, I have to fix my club. And I need you safe. Don’t you see? Don’t you understand? Right now, with the way things are, I’ve got nothing to offer you, Kara.”

  “Please don’t leave me.” I break down in sobs.

  He pulls me to him and whispers to my forehead. “It’s not gonna be forever.”

  “Don’t do this,” I plead.

  “It’s not gonna be forever. I promise you. I promise you. But for right now…” He pauses and swallows. “Right now we need to go our separate ways. Okay?”

  I shake my head, tears falling down my cheeks.

  He wipes them away with his thumb and dips his head to look in my eyes. “You talk or testify, I’m dead.”

  “You know I won’t.” My voice trembles. “If you hadn’t loved me, I’d be dead.”

  “You believed in me enough to trust me.”

  “I do trust you.” An idea pops in my head. “I could meet you somewhere later or—”

  “It’s too risky. I need to go.” He jerks his head to the gate. “You’ll be all right?”

  I nod. What choice do I have? He’s leaving me. My heart is breaking. “Be careful.”

  “I will. I promise you.” He kisses my forehead and then bumps his nose to mine. “All I’m gonna be thinking about is finding my way back to you.” He kisses me, and I cling to him.

  Finally, he pulls back, and I must let him go. He reaches up and pulls the silver necklace he wears from around his neck. “This was my grandmother’s.” He drops it over my head, and it falls to the valley of my breasts. It’s the Saint Christopher medallion he’d shown me at the bar the night I met him. I close my hand over it, tears in my eyes.

  “But it’s yours.”

  “I want you to have it.”

  He hands me the backpack from off the bike. “Don’t forget your stuff.”

  I take it, turn, and walk toward the gate. I punch in the number and look back. He hasn’t moved. He’s watching me.

  “I’m gonna see you real soon, Dante. I’m gonna see you real soon.”

  He lifts his chin at me, a nod of farewell, and I turn and walk up the drive.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Kara—

  I walk in my father’s house. Since my mother died, that’s how I think of it—my father’s house. It’s big and grand, and right now it feels like a prison. A maid comes and greets me.

  “Miss Kara, I wasn’t expecting you.” It’s obvious she was never told I was missing. My father kept his end of the bargain well.

  “Is daddy home?”

  “No, ma’am. He’s in court today. I believe he’s expected by dinner time.”

  I nod. “Thank you, Anna.”

  “Would you like something to eat?”

  As sad as I am, I don’t think I’ll ever be hungry again. “No, thank you. I’ll be in my room.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I climb the curving staircase and walk into my bedroom. It’s been my bedroom since we moved here when I was nine. It’s still the same, pink and gir
ly, and I realize looking at it now, too childish. I’ve outgrown it. I’m different now. I walk over to the built-in bookcases that frames my bed and look at my tennis trophies. It all seems a lifetime ago.

  I sit on the beautiful brass bed, grab one of my old teddy bears propped at the foot, and hug it to me. I recall Reno’s words. Don’t apologize for what you love, for what you want.

  He was right. I shouldn’t apologize for what I want. So, why is that what this feels like I’m doing? Like what I want doesn’t matter. Because my father won’t like it, won’t approve?

  And all of a sudden, I’m done with all of that. Maybe I was done with it when I withdrew from school and packed my suitcase.

  I walk down the hall to my father’s office—a wood paneled room with bookcases and a big desk and framed photos of important people around the room. There are only two pictures on his desk. One is my mother and the other is me. I grab a piece of his engraved stationary and use the fountain pen to write him a letter. When I’m through, I prop it next to my picture. Then I open the drawer and find the set of keys he keeps in there for his second car. His toy. His baby. I go back to my room and find a new outfit from some clothes I still have in my dresser. I dress in jeans and boots and a shirt. Then I grab a jacket and sneak out the back, past the tennis court, toward the three-car garage. I enter and press the button to raise the overhead door. My father’s black corvette sits there. It’s the latest model, worth about ninety thousand dollars, and I know he’ll kill me. But I hope to return it soon.

  I start the engine, and it purrs to life. I’ve only driven it once, and that was with daddy in the passenger seat. I pull out and head down the drive. I press the button on the remote that opens the gate. It swings slowly, and I pull through. And suddenly I’m free and I’m happy. Glancing down, I’m relieved to see I have enough gas to get where I’m going.

  Reno—

  I pull up at the motel. Rusty’s bike is parked outside along with the sedan. I park and knock on the door. Rusty opens it, and I enter.

  “Any problems?” he asks.

  I shake my head, not about to tell him it was a hard goodbye.

  “Good. You see her father?”

  “Nope. Left her at the gate.”

  “There’s a gate?”

  “Nice neighborhood. Big estates. Tennis courts. The whole poor-little-rich-girl thing. Hadn’t pegged that.”

  “Huh, we’re lucky we’re not in lockup right now.”

  I’m distracted and just nod. Rusty gets a text, and while he deals with that, I pull the burner phone from my pocket, the one with Kara’s number and a photo I’ll never delete. I contemplate texting her, just to make sure she’s okay. But I end up shoving it in my pocket. I’m surprised by how much I miss her already and how big that hole in my heart is. I’ve known her just weeks and already can’t picture a future without her in it. My life stretches cold and lonely before me. Going back to fucking club pussy with no emotional involvement seems inconceivable now.

  “I’ve got to go meet Jammer. If I can get him to listen, I know I can get him to talk to Bandit and Gypsy.”

  I nod, not really paying attention.

  “You okay?”

  I meet his eyes. “Fine.”

  “Prospect’s coming to pick up the sedan. He’s bringin’ Coolie. Can you wait for ‘em? Prospect’s gonna take him to the RV. Coolie’s gonna be pissed, but we can’t do shit about that.”

  “Great.”

  He approaches and I look up.

  “You love this girl?”

  I shake my head and look away. “I can’t.”

  “You don’t want to, but you do.”

  I’m silent.

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Does she know?”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m not what she needs.”

  “You’re overthinking this. Maybe you’ll make each other happy. If you can figure out a way to get around her father.”

  “Go do what you’ve gotta do.” I really don’t need a therapist.

  “Right.” He moves to the door. “I’ll be back in a couple hours. Hopefully this works out.”

  “Be careful, brother.”

  “Always.”

  He taps his fist to his chest twice, just over his heart, and points at me.

  I give him half a grin, tap my chest twice and point back at him. It’s a signal we’ve had since I first was his prospect all those years ago. It started one night after a bar fight.

  We were in some dive bar in a rural area of South Georgia, outnumbered ten-to-one by a bunch of rednecks pissed their girls had looked twice at us. I knew what was about to happen. I learned quick that Rusty had a wicked temper when he was disrespected, same as me. Some yahoo couldn’t keep from runnin’ his mouth, and Rusty knocked him off his barstool. I had to back his play in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night, outnumbered big time.

  The ferocity of Rusty’s temper kept them at bay with me as his backup shadow as he crudely but effectively took out two more. I smashed a barstool over the head of a guy coming at him from behind with a pool cue. After that, we beat a hasty retreat, blasting down the highway into the darkness, the straight pipes on our bikes shattering the nighttime air.

  When we got to the clubhouse and went our separate ways, me the lowly prospect, him the patch, he’d given that gesture of brotherhood to me even though I was not yet his patched brother. I gave it back, and we smiled, never telling a soul about that fight. It was ours. My initiation into the MC life at the age of twenty-one.

  Now Rusty walks out the door, and I stand here thinking how just a couple of hours ago I’d been hilt-deep in Kara’s sweet pussy, hearing her little moans and the catch in her breath when I brought her to climax. She tasted like sweet innocence. I did what I had to do. Pushing her away wasn’t easy, but it was necessary before my dirty world destroyed her.

  I vaguely hear Rusty’s bike blast out onto the highway; the sound of his drag pipes fades away.

  Eventually I lie back on the bed, and I must have dozed off, because a tap at the door startles me awake. I swing my legs over and stand, moving to the door. I peer through the crack in the curtain, expecting Coolie and the prospect. A black corvette is parked next to my bike, and I frown, leaning to see who’s at the door. Jesus Christ.

  I swing the door open.

  Kara stands there. “Babe, what the fuck are you doing here?”

  She throws herself at me, hugging my waist and burrowing into my chest. I gather her close, cupping her head and kissing her forehead. Her head drops back, and I find her mouth. The kiss is long and thorough, like I haven’t seen this girl in months, not hours.

  I pull back. “Kara—”

  “I couldn’t do it.” She shakes her head. “You’re what I want. I’m not going to apologize for it. Just like you told me.”

  She’s throwing my own words back at me, the little wench. “Babe, you can’t stay here. We’ve been all through this.”

  “Did you miss me? I missed you the minute you were gone.”

  “Yeah, I missed you.”

  “We love each other. Say it. Tell me it’s true.”

  I nod. I can’t deny it, but this is no life for her. She doesn’t know what she’s getting into, and I doubt she’s got the maturity to realize it.

  “Look at me, babe. I’m a biker, a DK, as bad as they come. Are you sure you understand the chance you’re taking loving me? You sure you really want this life and all that comes with it?”

  She nods. “I just want to be with you. I don’t care about the rest. We’ll work it out.”

  “Baby, you have to go back. I know it’s hard for you to understand, but this is one time you really do need to trust me, sweetness.”

  “No, I don’t want to hear it, not another word about you leaving me. I go where you go.”

  She’s a determined little tiger, but I can’t let her have her way. Not this time. I shake my head. “The shit I gotta do involves the club. You don’t get to decide this, babe. D
on’t work that way.”

  “Reno, please.” She stares up at me, pleading. I study her beautiful face with her expressive eyes and kissable mouth. I brush my thumb over her lower lip; I need to convince her to leave, but all I want to do is push her to her knees and sink my dick in her pretty mouth.

  The sound of motorcycles roaring up pulls me from my daydream. That’ll be Prospect and Coolie. But it sounds like more than two bikes. I frown, wondering if Rusty is back with Jammer and others. Or is it Rat? My heart stops, and I push Kara behind me. I move to the window and peer through the crack. I barely have time to see the four bikes and van before they’re busting through the door. The cheap motel lock splinters from the frame, and six angry members of the Evil Dead push inside.

  “Easy,” I tell Kara. ‘’Don’t say a word. Keep silent.”

  Her fingers clutch at my waist, her chest pressed to my back.

  I stand loosely, hands at my sides, weaponless. My gun lies on the nightstand, too far away to reach. I wouldn’t make a play for it if I could; I can’t take the chance of Kara getting hurt because I escalate the situation. If they want to take us, I’m helpless to stop it, unless I’m bent on suicide.

  For Kara’s sake, I hope I can talk my way out of this. “There a problem, boys?”

  One of them grins with a snarl, but jerks his chin and orders another man. “Take the girl.”

  I twist, trying to keep myself between the man and Kara. “Don’t fuckin’ touch her. She’s got nothing to do with club business.”

  Kara—

  My stomach knots with fear when the man to my right is ordered to take me. Reno pushes me back, but a split second later, one of the men on his left hits him over the head with the butt of a gun. Reno drops to the floor.

  I collapse on top of him, crying and shaking him. “Reno, baby.” I glare up at the men around me. “Leave him alone. He wasn’t resisting. He was only protecting me.” A man grabs my arm and drags me off him, covering my mouth with a hand when I begin to scream.

  The one who seems to be in charge jerks his chin again. “Load him in the van. Be quick, boys.”