Until Amy

by Jessica Ames

  My thoughts scatter as one of the club bunnies, women who stay around the clubhouse, saunters over. I think her name is Roxy. She’s got fake tits that sit too high and too perky, dark hair that curls around her shoulders in loose waves and piercing blue eyes that see too much. She’s got a thing for Crank. I worked that out within the first three minutes I was here. Not sure how mutual the feelings are, though. I’ve seen him with her, but I think he just sees her as convenient. She runs her hands over his arm and chest.

  “You need to relax, baby?”

  He waves her off. “Not now, sweetheart.”

  She pouts at him, but he ignores her. He must be feeling fucking down. Usually, he’d be all over her with a fucking smile. She clearly doesn’t like the rebuttal.

  “I’m fucking horny!”

  “Go find another dick to ride.”

  “Bastard,” she growls and flounces off.

  “That bitch is crazy,” I tell him as Mac places a drink in front of me.

  He snorts. “Don’t I know it.”

  As soon as the kid turns away, I set my attention on Crank.

  “You doing okay, brother?”

  His mouth pulls into a dark line.

  “Still pissed about last night and that fucking shipment.”

  I take a sip of my beer, letting the malty taste sit on my tongue for a moment before swallowing it down.

  “It’s fucking bullshit. We need to go after these fuckers. Teach them not to mess with the Sons.”

  I place a hand on his shoulder. “Trust Omen. He’ll fix this shit.”

  “Yeah, but we shouldn’t have let those fuckers take the stuff in the first place. Should have fought harder.”

  “From what I heard there were twenty of them, all with guns, against six. Ain’t exactly a fair fight. Flash was already hurt. You did what you had to do by protecting your brothers.”

  “Should have done more.”

  I understand why he’s giving himself a hard time. I would too. I wish I could tell him we got the guns out, but until me, Omen and Havoc work out where the leak is coming from, I have to keep quiet.

  “You did what you could,” I assure him.

  I drink my beer and then head to find Omen. He’s in his office with Havoc. He peers up as I enter, and Havoc offers me the other chair in front of the desk. I sink into it.

  “Any news?” I ask.

  Omen shrugs. “Nothin’ yet. Havoc’s put out some feelers. We’re pretty sure from the description Crank gave us of one of the tats he saw, that it matches a guy called Brick. He’s a member of the Fallen Demons.”

  I don’t know the name, but I’m not up to date with all the allies and enemies Tennessee has.

  “They enemies of the club?”

  “Allies,” Havoc mutters. “Supposed to be anyway.”

  “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. I never expect allies to remain forever, but to break an agreement in such an underhanded way has my teeth grinding together. “Can we confront them?”

  “I want more proof before I do. I’ve told Crank to keep what he saw to himself for now. Don’t want it common knowledge we know who these fuckers might be. I want to send more men on the runs, but if we have a rat in the club, I don’t want to scale it into a full-blown gun fight. Flash getting hit was bad enough, but I’m not losing any of my guys.”

  “So, how do we figure out who is betraying us?”

  “Not sure yet. I sent six brothers with the last shipment, and those fuckers sent twenty men. Someone is talking.”

  “Who did you tell about the run?”

  “The six who were doing it—Crank, Chains, Hatchet, Dice, Flash and Mac.”

  “Likely it’s one of them,” I tell him. I don’t want to think about any of them being the one stabbing us in the back, but the truth is it has to be one of them.

  Omen sighs. “Fucking sick of this shit.”

  I know how he feels. It’s fucking exhausting having to watch every word you’re saying, making sure you’re not telling brothers—men we should be able to trust—things. I feel the knife twisting in my back every time I step foot in the common room, wondering who is betraying my brothers.

  When we find out, the outcome won’t be pretty. Omen and Havoc will strip the tats from the back of the brother who’s been spilling secrets. We take an oath when we join the club. A rat can break a club, which is why Rav took this shit so seriously. Tennessee is our national chapter in the US. They need to be solid.

  “We’ll figure it out, brother,” I tell him and push up to my feet.

  The prospect, Mac, drives me to the bar where I’m meeting Amy. She’s still wary and I’m willing to give her the space she needs to figure that out while we’re getting to know each other. I’ll give her as much time as she wants as long as she gives me a shot.

  “You need picking up?” Mac asks as I climb out of the car.

  I shrug, feeling like a fucking kid being dropped off by his mum. “I’ll let you know.”

  I close the door and walk toward the bar—Daniel’s Bar. I’ve never been here before and my eyes don’t stray to the decor as I walk in, but zero in on Amy who is sitting at a table alone.

  Fuck, she takes my breath away. She’s fucking beautiful and for a moment, I just stand and watch her as she nervously fiddles with the glass in front of her, her eyes darting around.

  I’m not wearing my kutte and I feel naked without it, but I don’t want people watching us because of the colors on my back. I don’t want her to feel like she’s under a microscope. Ain’t ashamed of my club links. Never will be, but I don’t want to scare her off yet either. Not until I have her where I want her to be.

  I head over to the table, and when her eyes come to mine, I see a hint of relief. Did she think I would stand her up? She’s fucking nuts if she thought that.

  “Hey, babe.”

  “Hey, Shane.”

  She stands and I press my lips to hers as she does. She feels soft, sweet as fuck in my arms.

  We sit, each taking our seats. “You want another drink?” I ask her.

  She nods and thanks me. I order us more drinks and get settled in my seat. She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and I track the movement, my greedy eyes trailing every inch of her face.

  “You ever been here before?” I ask her.

  “With my friend, Harmony. She and her cousins like to come here. Are you finding it strange being in a new city?”

  “I’m getting used to it. It’s different compared to London.”

  “I’ve never been.”

  “Maybe one day I’ll take you.”

  Her face gets soft. “I’d like that.”

  I let out a breath, a smile tugging at my lips. This woman is the light to my dark. I should walk away, let her find a decent man, one who isn’t caught up in criminality, but the thought of her with someone else makes me want to lose my shit. She’s mine, and I’m not willing to give her up.

  11

  Amy

  I watch as Natalie nervously moves around the room, grabbing a coffee from the dispenser on the table, her eyes everywhere. The people who come to the group often lack confidence, wondering why they came, if they were wrong to come, but she seems particularly anxious.

  I put down my files on my chair and head over to talk to her. She’s a petite woman, with dark hair the tips of which are an electric blue. She’s young too, maybe twenty-one, twenty-two. This is her first meeting after suffering months of harassment from her boss. When I spoke to her on the phone, she seemed scared, tired and anxious. I’m hoping the group can help her.

  I set up Workers Against Workplace Harassment shortly after all the shit storm with Dr Hofstadter died down. I was in a bad mental head space and I needed something positive to funnel my energy into. Setting up the group was a way to channel all that.

  “Hey, how are you doing?” I ask her.

  She smiles at me. “I feel out of my depth.”

  “That’s natural for your first time here.” I grab a
cup and start to make myself a coffee. “Don’t worry. Everyone here has been where you are now. We’ll make it easy for you.”

  “You were assaulted?” she asks, then winces. “Sorry, I shouldn’t pry.”

  “You’re not. I was sexually assaulted by a senior doctor at the hospital I work at.”

  Saying it fast doesn’t make it hurt as much, doesn’t let the filth that usually covers my skin sink in as deeply. Even now, after all this time, it still haunts me. I flinched when Shane touched me. I haven’t done that in a while now, but it shows me those fears still exist, buried within me. Maybe they’ll always exist. I’ve not been with a man since the incident, and I’m not sure how I’ll handle that. I feel safe with Shane, even though I probably shouldn’t—considering who he is. He’s bossy, but he’s never made me feel like I don’t have a choice in what we’re doing. He’s never pushed me beyond what I’m comfortable with.

  That makes things easier to manage. I know I should tell him what happened to me, discuss it like an adult. That’s what I would tell the people in my group to do, but there’s never a good time to bring it up. So far, we’ve only been on a handful of dates, and I’m not sure we’re even at the spilling all your secrets part of our relationship yet.

  “I’m so sorry, Amy,” Natalie says, bringing my attention back to her. “Things haven’t gone that far with my boss yet, but I’m worried it will escalate. He’s already pushing things further than he did in the beginning.”

  She brushes her hair back from her face and I see the desperation in her eyes as they come to me. I don’t blame her fear. These things can spiral fast. I experienced that first hand. With Dr Hofstadter, it started with him letting me in on interesting cases. Then he’d make out like I owed him a favor for what he did for me. He’d ask me to dinner repeatedly—to talk about work. I never believed that. Then, one day he cornered me and touched me. At the time I was so stunned I couldn’t move. After, I felt sick, disgusted, dirty.

  I got together with a few other women he’d harassed and found a lawyer who wasn’t scared of taking on such a big hospital. The case went ahead, even though Hofstadter died. The board had to change members and they lost their CEO after he was forced to step down. I earned the title of troublemaker for leading that. Harmony couldn’t stand it after what happened to her. She resigned just a few days after she got out of the hospital after Hofstadter’s attack. For a long time, I hated that he escaped justice by dying for a long time, but I’m slowly making my peace with it. At least he can’t hurt any other women now.

  “I don’t know what to do to stop it.” She nibbles on her bottom lip and my heart sinks. I’ve been her: scared, unsure, helpless. I want her to know she’s not alone in this fight.

  I give her a reassuring smile. “There’s a few things we can do. Firstly, you need to start keeping a diary of every incident, every time he makes you uncomfortable or says something inappropriate. In the meantime, I’ll help you to file a complaint and I can come with you to see your HR manager when you get a meeting, if you want me there.”

  She gives me a nervous smile. “Thank you. I have the forms with me to file a complaint. I just have to fill them in.”

  “I can help you with that too.”

  Natalie glances down at her hands. “I never did anything to encourage him.”

  “I know.”

  “I can handle the innuendo and flirting. It’s the seemingly innocent touches that make me doubt my sanity.”

  “If it makes you uncomfortable, they’re not innocent,” I tell her.

  “I’m glad I came here. I was worried, I won’t lie.”

  “It’s important to stand up to this man. Let him know you’re not going to allow his behavior to continue. I have to start the meeting now, but after we’re done, come and find me and we’ll fill in your form.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’ll get through this,” I say. “I promise.”

  Natalie smiles at me and heads off to find a seat as I start the meeting.

  “Right,” I say, taking my seat. “Who wants to go first?”

  I settle into the meeting, listening to story after story of horrifying harassment happening in the workplace and my heart sinks for every single victim. My harasser got some form of justice, even if it wasn’t the justice I wanted to give him.

  After the meeting, I help Natalie fill in the forms she needs to and I give her my number, telling her she can call me at any time. The isolation is the worst when this kind of thing is happening. I don’t want her to feel alone.

  As I head out to my car, I pull out my phone and see a message from Shane.

  SHANE: How was your day?

  I quickly message back.

  ME: Good. Yours?

  SHANE: Yeah, it was okay. Would have been better if you were here.

  I grin at his words as I climb into my car and lock the door. I don’t move to pull my seatbelt on as I message him back.

  ME: Mine too.

  SHANE: There’s a party at the club over the weekend. Come?

  I pause and stare at his text. A club party? That really is going into the lion’s den. I hover my fingers over the keys, not sure what to write back.

  SHANE: If it’s too soon…

  I love him for giving me an out, but I want to spend time with him, wherever that might be. I’m sure I can handle the Sons for one night, right?

  ME: I’ll be there.

  12

  Whizz

  I’m pretty sure I’ve been walking around with a dumb as fuck grin on my face since I first met Amy. She calms the voices in my head, quietens down the anxiety and fear that lives deep in my gut—a fear I carried with me from my time overseas. I loved being in the army, but it didn’t come without its share of nightmares.

  I’d seen shit no one should ever have to see. Fatal injuries, limbs blown to fucking pieces, and blood—sometimes, I can feel it on my skin, coating my hands even when they’re clean. Just a little take away from serving Her Majesty. Fuck, I’d seen and done it all. I’d shoved my hand inside bodies, pinching arteries to stop brothers from bleeding out. I’d lost my share of soldiers too, despite my efforts. That shit haunted me sometimes, though I’d learnt to live with it on some level. I had to, or I’d lose my fucking mind.

  But with Amy, it’s like that shit disappears into background noise. I can’t forget what I’ve seen, but it fades behind my lids the more she’s around and that shit is addictive. I need her in my life. I need her to still my spinning world.

  I’m lying on my bed in the clubhouse when my phone rings. Rav’s name pops up on the screen. It’s been a little while since I last heard from my president. He’s head of the London chapter and head of all chapters of the Sons globally. He’s also a hell of a leader and a good bloke, when he’s not snarling and losing his shit, which happens regularly with the bunch of fuckers he leads in London.

  I ignore the wave of homesickness as I sit up and swipe a finger across the handset.

  “Thought you’d forgotten about me,” I joke.

  “Ain’t no one forgetting your ugly fucking mug.” Rav must be in a good mood to take the piss like this.

  “You get the present we sent?” I ask, wondering if the guns me and Havoc sent out have reached him.

  “Yeah, thanks for that. It’ll go down well with our friends.”

  Our Manchester chapter will be happy for them. They’re on the brink of war with gangs in their area. I wish I was there to help out, but I know Rav will make sure everyone stays safe. He’s not going to let any of our brothers die on his watch.

  “You learned anything?”

  I sigh. “I’m pretty sure we know who crashed the party.” I try to keep my answers vague, just in case any fucker is listening in.

  “They being dealt with?”

  “Omen wants to know for sure first.”

  “Figure that shit out and get home.”

  Home. Fuck. I’d always thought of London as home, but since I met Amy, I’m reevaluatin
g that. She makes me want things I never considered before and part of me is considering if it would really be that bad to stay in Tennessee permanently. Could I leave my brothers behind in London? I don’t know, but the thought of leaving Amy behind leaves a heavy ball settling in my gut.

  “Yeah.”

  I want to ask how shit is back home, but part of me doesn’t want to know. Knowing and being thousands of miles from there is torture, especially since I can’t help.

  “Keep me updated,” Rav says, then hangs up.

  As I pull my phone from my ear a text message comes through from Amy.

  AMY: Hey, how was your day?

  ME: Better now. Yours?

  AMY: I had a hellish afternoon with a seven-year-old projectile vomiting. Looking forward to the party.

  I’m looking forward to seeing her, but I’m not sure what the fuck she’ll make of a club party. They’re normally pretty wild from what I’ve seen. These boys don’t care about fucking in the open and they’ll take bunnies, hangarounds, anyone they want. Back home, I was the same. Hell, my first few weeks here I was no different. Since I met Amy, I’ve not touched a bunny or hangaround. It doesn’t feel right, which fucking freaks me out. I’ve never cared that much about a woman before to guard my cock from others. Usually, I’d take what I want, when I want it. With Amy, shit’s different.

  ME: Can’t wait to see you and take your mouth.

  There’s a long pause before the three dots appear.

  AMY: You can’t get me horny when you’re not here.

  ME: Give me five, I’ll be over.

  AMY: I’m still at work.

  ME: What time do you finish?

  AMY: Too late for kinky fuckery.

  Kinky what? I grin. I love the sassiness of her. It makes me want to claim her, make her mine even more. When it comes to her, I’m greedy. I want everything she has to offer, but I don’t want to come on too hard or too fast. I get the impression she’s been hurt in the past, that there’s a story there I don’t know about yet. I want to know it. I want to know everything there is to know about her, because she’s fast becoming my world. She consumes me, makes me want to be a better man and it’s been a long time since I last wanted that.