by Anne Malcom
“I’m not ready I’m not ready,” she chanted, hopping on one foot. “Answer the door, Mom. Stall him,” she ordered, racing back into her room.
I was glad for this turn of events. When I opened the door, Killian turned from staring over at Zane’s house to face me. He was clad in jeans, motorcycle boots, a Grateful Dead t-shirt and a leather jacket. It was hot as hell outside. Obviously hot guys and teenagers alike were impervious to frivolous things such as climate.
“Hey Mrs. Spencer,” he greeted respectfully.
“Killian, come in.” I gestured inside. “Lexie’s not ready yet.”
He walked through and followed me to the sofa. His demeanor was casual, relaxed; he didn’t seem like a nervous teenage boy before a date. Then again, he wasn’t dealing with a shotgun-toting father.
“Can I get you anything? Coke?” I offered, trying to swallow the dislike I had for him.
He shook his head. “I’m good, thanks, Mrs. Spencer.”
I moved to sit opposite him. “Call me Mia,” I said.
He nodded but didn’t speak.
I decided to go right in for the kill. “I trust Lexie,” I started evenly. “I know she’s a smart kid. That’s why I’m not going to lecture with rules and curfews. She knows them all, she’ll respect them,” I said, glancing to make sure Lexie hadn’t arrived. “But you hurt her…make no mistake, I’ll kill you. Not in the figurative I’ll shout at you a bit and maybe call your parents type of way, but in a straight up murder type of way. No one will find the body,” I told him seriously.
Of course, I would never murder a teenager. But Lexie didn’t have the gun-toting father, so I had to make up for it somehow.
To my surprise, the bad boy nodded quickly. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Mia. Lexie’s special. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her, just so you know,” he told me sincerely.
And damn it if I didn’t believe him.
His eyes moved from mine as if he had some kind of sixth sense, and he stood. Lexie stood in the doorway looking beautiful. Her hair was plaited into a fishtail and her face was lightly made up with a dusting of pink lip gloss. She had on her lightest pair of skinny jeans and a fitted floral blouse, which had huge bell sleeves and a slightly plunging neckline. She was wearing my wedges and I felt a pang at how grown up she looked.
“Freckles,” Killian muttered, looking her up and down, “You’re beautiful.”
Lexie blushed bright red.
I didn’t blame her. The big, bad, leather-wearing, smoking teenager spoke softly and called her beautiful, in front of her mother no less. I’d be blushing too.
He moved to her and grabbed her hand. His eyes reluctantly moved to me.
“Have her home by ten, Mia,” he promised before directing them out the door. Lexie gave me a little wave and then they were gone. I sank down into my chair and tried not to cry. I picked up the phone.
“Lexie’s just gone on a date,” I greeted as soon as Ava answered. I didn’t give her time to respond. “And I want to hate him. He rides a motorcycle, smokes cigarettes and practically has Dangerous tattooed on his forehead. But he’s polite and is clearly obsessed with my daughter,” I groaned into the phone. “I’m torn between wanting to run him over with my car or be happy for them.”
Ava laughed. “Sweetheart, you are going through what every mother goes through. Whether they’re wearing leather or plaid, you’re always going to instinctively dislike your daughter’s first boyfriend.” She paused, and I knew she was remembering her own daughter, who she lost to a drink driver at seventeen. “But our Lexie’s a good girl. A smart girl. She would pick the right boy,” she said with a slight tremble in her voice.
“But I didn’t,” I half whispered. “I thought I was a smart girl—look what happened to me. Thank God it did happen because I got Lexie, but what if that happens to her?” I told the only woman I could talk to my greatest fear, tears welling in my eyes.
“Oh sweetie,” Ava said softly. “You were a baby. Not only that, you had parents that didn’t take care of you the way they should.” Her voice held a hint of anger. “Your parents were animals. You sought affection and solace in the one place you found it. That doesn’t make you bad or weak. Only human. You got out of there, made a life. Made Lexie a life. You’re strong, sweetie. You’ve got a strong daughter. We’re so proud of you.” Her voice cracked again and my tears really threatened to fall. “Lexie has such a good role model, she’d never have to blindly seek acceptance like a scared little one we knew. Trust her, be there for her, and make sure you keep a loaded shotgun under the bed, just in case,” she added lightly.
I laughed. A knock, no, a pounding at the door made me frown. “I’m sorry, Ava, I’ve got to go. Someone’s at the door,” I said, standing. “And I just wanted you to know, you’re a wonderful mother too. Alice was lucky to have you. And Lexie and I are more than lucky,” I told her softly. “Love you,” I added, knowing Ava didn’t do well talking about Alice.
“Love you, beautiful. Send my love to my Sunshine,” she said with a shaky voice.
I still had my phone at my ear when I answered the door; a furious looking Zane stood in it. His face changed as soon as he got a look at me.
“Babe?” He stepped forward and clutched my hips. His hand wiped a stray tear from the side of my eye. “What the fuck?” he asked with concern. Well, his version of concern.
“Nothing, I’m fine,” I reassured him. “It’s nothing,” I repeated.
Zane frowned. “Nothing does not equal tears.”
“Tear, singular—not plural,” I clarified.
Zane gritted his teeth, directing me to the sofa.
I threw up my arms. “Can a mom not get a bit emotional when her only daughter embarks on her first date?” I asked, only half lying. No way was I taking him on a trip down my memory lane. That was a place closed for good.
Zane’s glare returned. “Got to talk about that shit, Mia,” he bit out.
I straightened. “What shit?”
Zane looked at me. “Lexie going on a date with that little fucker,” he said roughly.
“I thought he was a friend of the club?” I said, confused and slightly worried Zane seemed so mad. Maybe I had judged Killian right on first glance. I restrained the urge to hop in my car and follow them.
“He was,” Zane said tightly. “Until he went on a fuckin’ date with Lexie,” he finished.
I relaxed. His fury was not due to the fact Killian was a troublemaker but out of protectiveness to my kid. A warm feeling spread through me.
I cupped his cheek. “He’s a kid, they’re on a date. He’s not whisking her off to elope in Vegas,” I joked.
Zane’s glare intensified. “She’s fuckin’ sixteen. Too young for that shit,” he argued.
I raised an eyebrow. “I’d had Lexie by the time I was sixteen,” I told him.
His face hardened. “Exactly.”
“What do you suggest I do, Zane? Look her up in a windowless tower until she is of the marrying age? Then sell her for five goats?” I asked sarcastically.
Zane grabbed my chin. He searched my face. “I’ll kill the little shit if he hurts her,” he finally said.
“Already threatened the whole murder thing—we’re good,” I patted his arm.
“You threatened to murder a teenager?” Zane said with surprise and respect.
“He was taking my daughter out on a date. It was my duty to at least threaten bodily dismemberment,” I deadpanned.
Zane looked at me a moment longer, then a shadow of a grin tickled the side of his face. I stared in amazement, but I didn’t have time to properly appreciate it as he pulled me in for a kiss. Then he deepened it and decided to fuck me on the sofa. I wasn’t complaining.
We were lying on the sofa dressed again, because I didn’t want Lexie coming home early from her date to me naked in the living room . Some things you just couldn’t unsee. I traced the patch on Zane’s cut which said Enforcer. I didn’t know exactly what it meant,
but I knew it meant he wasn’t crunching numbers for the club.
“Tell me about the club,” I asked quietly.
Zane jerked slightly. He was quiet for a while. “What do you want to know?” he said finally, his voice guarded. I glanced up at him; his face was blank.
I had a multitude of questions. “I,” I began, unsure of where one started asking their boyfriend about his potential outlaw motorcycle club. “Are you in danger?” I asked, needing to know whether said club would be a reason I lost him. I blanched at the thought.
He stroked my face. “Babe, it’s dangerous riding my bike down the street. That’s life. Ain’t livin’ if you do it scared,” he answered
I chewed my lip. “So that’s a yes, you are in danger,” I surmised. “Does that mean the club breaks the law?” I asked quietly.
Zane paused. “Not gonna lie, babe. Club used to be into shady shit,” He continued. “Last coupla years things have gotten on the right side of the law.”
I raised a speculative eyebrow.
“We ain’t ever gonna be society’s version of law abiding citizens. We are going to significantly lower the risk of entering a state run facility or meeting the reaper bloody,” he told me with honesty that made me sick.
I swallowed. “Meet the reaper bloody,” I repeated. “People have died?” I asked weakly.
Zane’s face turned shuttered, tortured even. His eyes were full of something I couldn’t place. Sorrow. Regret. “Long time ago,” he muttered finally. “Club’s outta that shit now. Promise you that.” His voice was husky, full of pain.
I wanted to ask him who had died. It was obviously someone important. Or multiple someones, but he already seemed on the verge of shutting down and I didn’t want to push it. Rosie’s words about sorrow and guilt reverberated in my mind.
“So me and Lexie having a connection to the club—to you—we’re not in danger?” I clarified, needing to know my daughter wouldn’t become collateral damage.
Zane’s grip tightened on my chin and he fastened it so my face met his. His eyes seemed to glitter. “You think I would let anything happen to you or Lexie?” he growled. “Think I would let you in my life if there was a possibility of you getting a hair on your beautiful head ruffled?” he continued with ferocity.
I shook my head slowly. I knew he would protect us. But I didn’t want to have a lifestyle that needed protecting. But unfortunately, I already did. With or without a motorcycle club, there would always be a shadow that haunted my dreams.
We were silent for a long while and I traced the patch on his cut again. “Enforcer,” I read quietly. “That mean what I think it means?”
Zane’s frame was tight under mine. “Means I protect the club,” he said simply.
“With that?” I nodded to the gun that sat on the coffee table. One that I was not happy having in my house. Not at all. Something we would sure be having a conversation about.
Zane nodded.
“And you use it?” I probed.
His face hardened once more. “If need be,” he clipped.
I chewed on my question before finally asking it. “You’ve killed people,” I said quietly, realizing it was more of a statement than a question.
Zane was silent. I knew this meant yes. I searched his face. Even though it was hard and expressionless at this moment, I knew it wasn’t the face of a cold-blooded murderer. He could be hard, dangerous and menacing. He could also be tender and loving. I wondered if Jeffery Dahmer’s girlfriend justified it that way. I didn’t know how I could live with that. How I could get past that. I also didn’t know how I could live without him. I wasn’t in danger of falling for him. I already had.
“You gonna be able to get right with that?” Zane asked roughly.
“I don’t know,” I whispered honestly.
Zane’s frame tightened even more and he moved to get up. I put pressure on his shoulders as he sat up and swung my legs so I straddled him, moving my hands to his neck. “I don’t know how. But I’m going to try, because I can’t imagine my life without you right know,” I said to his eyes.
His frame relaxed and his fingers flexed at my hips. “I’m a selfish fucker,” he growled slightly. “Shouldn’t be giving you a choice. Should be walking out right now. Can’t do that, babe.” His mouth brushed my jaw. “You’re under my skin,” he murmured.
I shivered at his stubble brushing against me, his lips at my throat.
Lexie’s date had gone well. Really well. Considering it was the day after and she was still wearing that slightly dreamy look which was on her face at 9:52 p.m. last night, well was an understatement. But, then again, she had been at school all day, where she no doubt encountered Killian once more. He had plenty of opportunity to give her another reason to smile like a dork. I’d had to physically restrain myself from peeking out the window when I heard him pull up last night, most likely giving Lexie her first proper kiss. I knew she’d been kissed before, but she hadn’t seemed too impressed and was happy to go back to books and music afterwards. My motherly intuition told me this time books and music would not hold her interest in the way Killian did after said kiss. Looking at her across the car, I knew it was the case.
I had finished work early for a change and picked Lexie up from school to take us on a shopping outing in the next town over.
We were pulling up to our store and I couldn’t help but smirk. “You know, if the wind changes your face will freeze like that,” I remarked lightly.
Lexie, who had been gazing out the window, turned to look at me. “Like what?”
I grinned at her. “Like a little lovelorn girl, wistfully waiting for her one and only to send that fated text,” I teased.
She didn’t even roll her eyes or frown at my statement. She just smiled slightly and retreated back into her head.
I was taken aback. No usual witty banter? Wow, one date and he had her mute. Oh God.
I parked slightly down from the kick ass vintage store Lexie and I had found when exploring Hope weeks before. Since Lexie not only had dates with her new man-boy and gigs with her band, she needed new duds. I also needed new clothes...well, just because. My eyes rested on motorcycles lined up slightly down from us. I wondered if the Sons of Templar liked vintage shopping too. I grinned at the prospect.
“Zane coming over tonight?” Lexie asked hopefully, finally regaining her cogitative skills as we got out of the car.
I chewed my lip and linked my arm with hers as we walked toward the store. Zane had left last night before Lexie had returned home, declaring he had “club business.”
“That little shit is even a minute later than her curfew, you let me know,” he had demanded.
I’d rolled my eyes slightly at this. If he was a minute late I’d barely be ringing the alarm bells. I had kissed him instead of answering.
“Mia,” he had warned after kissing me soundly.
“Yes, O Macho One, I shall do as you command,” I told him seriously, with a hand on my heart.
At this he had shaken his head, given me a firm kiss and left. I had not seen nor heard from him since then. I told myself not to be worried or pissed off, yet I was both.
“Not sure yet, Doll,” I answered instead. Then I decided that I would not be waiting around for his call. “How about we make an afternoon of this? Head to dinner and a movie later?”
Lexie’s eyes brightened. “Can I call Kill and ask him to come?” she asked.
I stopped us, right there in the middle of the street, raising my eyebrows. “You want to have a second date with the boy you’re daydreaming about with your mom as a tagalong?” I asked in disbelief. “Tellin’ you now, kid, such boys do not appreciate chaperones while they commence broody looks at pretty young girls. I’d cramp your style,” I informed her.
She grinned at me. “Kill needs to know, sooner rather than later, my mom’s my best friend. He already thinks you’re cool. He won’t mind—he doesn’t have a choice anyway.” She added the last bit thoughtfully.
I gave her a proud look. “You go, girlfriend. Tell him who wears the pants.”
She smirked at me. “I’ll call him now,” she declared, rifling through her purse.
I grabbed her hand. “Now?” I asked in shock. “But the shop is right there,” I pointed to the window, only a few feet away. “You’re willing to delay shopping in order to talk to a boy?” I asked in horror.
Lexie merely patted my arm and shook her head, walking slightly away from me to make her call.
I shook my own head. “Never thought I’d see the day when a boy came before fashion,” I muttered to myself.
My attention was diverted when four huge bikers sauntered down the street in my direction. I glanced at the bikes, which were parked in front of me. I deduced they were why the bikers were walking toward me, not so they could rob me. They got closer and I knew for sure they weren’t anyone in the Sons. Not that I knew them all, but I was pretty sure their cuts were different, and on closer inspection these guys looked slightly rougher than the bikers I had come into contact with. And nowhere near as hot. I stepped back instinctively, going closer to Lexie, who was smiling into the phone. Unfortunately, I felt their eyes on me as they approached.
“Hey, darlin,’” one drawled, looking me up and down in a decidedly skeevy way.
I gave a quick glance behind me Lexie had her back to me and the bikers, for now.
