THE RULE OF THREE: A.C.H.E., MOTO, and TRINITY

by Never , M.

  I’m a walking fucking contradiction. Truth is, I was so ass backward after what happened with the two of them that I didn’t know what to do. I needed time to sort things out.

  Dev is the dangerous one. Plain and simple. I know when he looks at me, it’s more than just physical attraction. I felt it when he touched me, when he kissed me. It was emotionally charged. Being with Dev felt final. Being with Reese felt free—no strings attached. No chance to get hurt. I knew he never planned to stay. He was an easy out. At least, that was my impression until he showed up clear out of the blue. I’m in the worst possible situation. Caught between two men I yearn for equally. Desire equally.

  “Now, we’re . . . friends?” I try to simplify it.

  “You asking or telling?”

  “I’m not really sure, to be honest.” I laugh. “I’m just trying to let it all sink in.”

  “I understand that. Reese Dane is definitely one fine piece of man. I’d let him sink in all night long. Mmm.” I snap my head toward Tammy as a stab of jealousy punctures my gut. “Hell, I’d even take his brother as a consolation prize.” She jokes as I glare at her. Once she peels her eyes away from Reese and Dev, Tammy looks at me, startled. “Why you shootin’ death rays? You can’t lay claim on both of them.”

  Says whom?

  I know that thought is preposterous, but still. In my warped little world, they’re both mine.

  Before I get a chance to tell Tammy hands off, someone hollers my name.

  I turn to see Knight stumbling toward me.

  “What’s up, girl?” His voice pitches as he puts an arm around me. “I thought you didn’t show face at these things.”

  I’m momentarily stunned. One, because he’s never touchy-feely, and two, I think that’s the most he’s spoken since I met him.

  “Um . . .” It takes me a second to reply.

  “No worries. No explanation needed.” He cuts me off. “The important thing is you’re here, and I have moonshine.” He holds a large Mason jar up to my face. Now, I understand the source of his loose mood.

  “Why do I have a feeling that you and that ‘shine are a dangerous combination?”

  He grins and nods. “Like a Molotov Cocktail.”

  “I like cocktails,” Tammy chimes in coquettishly.

  “Oh yeah?” Knight still hangs on me but centers his full attention on the leggy brunette. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

  “Tammy.” She flashes him a flirty smile, and I swear up and down he gets hard instantly.

  “Knight.” He slips off me and cozies up to Tammy. She doesn’t seem to mind one bit. You cannot only see the instantaneous attraction, but you can feel it. I glance behind me at Dev and Reese, who are still hanging back on their bikes. Despite being identical twins, they each portray their own persona. Reese is flashy, where Dev lays in wait. He’s methodical. Even his sleek black sports bike screams discipline and control. A quiet domination.

  I know just how dominant he can be. I shiver from the mere memory. Jesus. I need to get a grip and stop thinking about Dev when Reese is the one I came here with. Who made me come an hour ago.

  Too bad that’s easier said than done. Truthfully, it’s fucking impossible. Not with them both ingesting me like that.

  “Drink, Nursie?” Knight shoves the moonshine under my nose. “You look like you’ve got way too much shit on your mind. It’s a party! Lighten up.” His arm is around Tammy now. When did that happen?

  I gladly accept the Mason jar without a second thought. He’s right; I do have way too much shit on my mind.

  I take a sip of the sweet-flavored alcohol. Mmm. “Is that root beer?” I examine the dark amber liquid.

  “Riley’s grandpoppi’s secret brew.” He winks as I take another swig. “Now, drink up!”

  “I like this side of you,” I confess to Knight.

  “You mean he isn’t always this charismatic?” Tammy pets Knight’s chest. He’s dressed casual, as usual, in a gray and white camo flannel and baggy jeans.

  “He’s usually so shy,” I tease.

  “Not shy,” Knight corrects me. “Controlled.” He looks directly into Tammy’s eyes, and I swear I hear her panties squeal.

  I need more ‘shine if I’m going to endure this. One jar is just not enough.

  I hit the bottle hard as Tammy and Knight eye-fuck each other right in front of me. For Pete’s sake, get a room or get lost in the woods or something. I laugh to myself.

  “Easy there, killer.” Reese’s voice travels behind me as I swallow down more moonshine. I turn to find him and Dev leaned forward on their bikes, looking like two jungle cats on the prowl.

  “Someone made a friend,” Dev comments about Knight.

  “He’s full of surprises tonight,” I add.

  “So are you.” Dev stares me down.

  I shift uncomfortably. This situation is never going to get easier. I know what the smart, rational thing to do is. Just walk away. From both of them. But I’m neither smart nor rational at the moment. On top of that, walking away seems nearly impossible when they’re both hell-bent on having me. There’s nothing but heartache down this road, I see it clear as day. Someone is going to get hurt, and I can pretty much guarantee that someone is going to be me.

  “Easy.” Reese draws me next to him, keeping Dev at bay. “Let’s not scare her off already.” Let’s? He kisses my neck openly while Dev drills a hole through my forehead with his searing gaze. I nearly buckle under the mishmash of Dev’s scrutiny and Reese’s warm lips. I down some more moonshine, begging for a palliative escape before Reese slips the jar out of my hand.

  “You’re going to be walking sideways soon, and we can’t have that,” he murmurs as he hands the Mason jar off to Knight.

  We? Why does he keep using plural pronouns? And why is it irking me so?

  Reese wraps his arm around my waist, locking me against him and his bike. My back to his side, while Dev’s suppressive blue laser beam ensnares me. I swallow thickly.

  Before I internally combust, a black and yellow motorcycle comes veering out of nowhere. It circles around our small group several times, the pipes roaring annoyingly. We all grimace. They sound like a buzz saw. The rider parks next to Knight then removes his helmet. If I didn’t know it, I would have bet money it was Riley. He loves attention, and I have a feeling the only time he gets it is when he’s on a bike.

  “What the fuck are you riding? A bumble bee?” Knight asks him, aghast.

  The name is appropriate considering the skins are horrific.

  Riley cackles, his laugh echoing up through the night sky.

  “It’s my newly-acquired P.O.S. Won it ten minutes ago. Can’t believe the jackass actually raced me! Look at this thing.”

  He dismounts the shabby machine, then kicks it. “I’m going to strip it for parts.”

  “That’s about all it’s good for.” Knight curls his lip. “Scrap.”

  “Guy was desperate to race. I couldn’t say no. He looked hard up, too. Needed a score, ya know.” He rubs his nose and inhales exaggeratedly. “Probably shouldn’t have even been driving.”

  “And you raced him anyway?” I ask.

  “’Course I did. Easy mark. I’m not an idiot.”

  “Hell, yeah!” Knight high fives him. “That’s how we do.”

  “I know, right? I mean, look at this shit.” Riley fishes into his jacket pocket and pulls out a handful of plastic.

  “What the fuck is that?” Reese asks, as we all lean in curiously to look at what’s in his hand. Upon better inspection, I realize what he’s holding.

  “Holy shit.” I grab his wrist and yank. “Are those all yours?”

  What Riley is holding is half a dozen empty dime bags with a tire stamped on each one.

  “Of course not. I don’t mess with this shit, but apparently, that guy does. This was his jacket. He bet the whole enchilada, helmet and all.”

  “Yo, man, you need to ditch that shit. Empty or not.” Knight sounds alarmed in his drunken sta
te.

  “I plan to.”

  “Smart idea.” Tammy frowns. “I heard that’s the stuff killin’ people off.”

  “You know about this?” I ask Tammy, a little too interested.

  “Just from what I hear around town. Supposedly, there’s a huge stash at some abandoned church somewhere.” She shrugs. “But it’s just hearsay.”

  Abandoned church? In this area, that’s not uncommon.

  There’s a bunch of dilapidated shacks littered all over the place. But it is something. I pull out my phone from my pocket as casually as I can, not wanting to draw attention to what I’m doing. As Riley, Reese, Dev, and Knight converse about the newly-acquired bumble bee bike, and what to do with it, I nonchalantly snap a picture of the license plate. It’s not a great image, but you can make out the numbers and letters from the off angle.

  I text my aunt:

  Not sure if this is anything, but might want to look into it and any abandoned churches in the area. #Overdose

  I attach the pic and hit send.

  She’ll know what I’m getting at. The only thing I’m not looking forward to is explaining where the tip came from.

  A few moments later, my phone vibrates.

  Sam: Thanks for the tip, crime stopper.

  I smirk then erase the message.

  “Whatcha doing all quiet over there?” Reese rasps, looking over my shoulder.

  “Nothing,” I reply flirtatiously as I slip my phone back into my pocket. Last thing I need is to be caught text texting 5–0, even if she is family.

  What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

  “You ready to go for another ride?” He skims his nose down my neck, and I can’t stop myself from looking at Dev. He’s watching mine and Reese’s every move like a hawk. It’s fucking stifling. Maybe leaving is in everyone’s best interest. I know I’m going to have to face Dev sometime soon and confront what happened between us and what’s happening with Reese right now. But I’m at a loss, honestly. I don’t know what to say, or even how to address it without hurting him. Because that’s the last thing I want. Let’s face it. I may be cozied up to Reese right now, but my feelings for Dev haven’t disappeared. They’re as strong as ever and eating me alive.

  Before I have a chance to respond to Reese, the loudest exhaust boom I’ve ever heard tears through the throng of people. It’s as if a blanket of dread covers the entire gathering as a figure on a jet-black beast rolls through the crowd. Reese straightens, forcing me back onto his bike. Our small circle tightens, Dev rolling closer to Reese and me, Riley doing the same as Knight locks his arms around Tammy and drags her next to me. We create our own little fortress of bodies as the biker heads straight for us. I’ve never seen anything like him. A massive body covered completely in leather with gold toe shit kickers that match the thin pinstripes running along the fairings on his machine.

  “Who is that?” I whisper to Tammy.

  “Viper,” she replies, just as he reaches us. He stops directly in front of Reese, their front tires practically touching.

  The man is intimidation personified. He sits in front of our little group for several long nerve-wracking heartbeats before he removes his black Predator helmet, complete with alien dreadlocks and all.

  I tighten my grip on Reese as the man shows himself. His skin is as dark as his leathers, his eyes a stunning green, like two pieces of sea glass.

  “Well, look who decided to slum.” Viper’s deep timbre rattles through me. “None other than the infamous Phantom himself.”

  I can’t see Reese’s face, but I can feel his body language. He’s apprehensive, but not intimidated, contrary to me.

  “Have some time off, so I’m hanging with my crew. It’s not unheard of.”

  “For you it is,” he contests.

  “Did you just roll over here to bust my balls because you’re still sore you never escaped this miserable shithole?”

  “I’m not sore,” Viper leers. “I own this fucking town. I’m king. Staying was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  As confident as his voice sounds, there’s an underlying resentment. We can all hear it, especially Reese. I suddenly have a bad feeling.

  “You’re king, huh?” Reese goads him. Oh shit. “I distinctly remember burning rubber down your ass every time we raced. Which I believe makes me king. Estranged or not.”

  The look in Viper’s eyes sharpen to a point. Holy fuck.

  “This isn’t ten years ago. You have no idea who I am now.”

  “Oh, I think I do. Washed-up racer with a chip on his shoulder.”

  “Reese,” I whisper a warning into his ear, squeezing him hard. He rubs my hand, placating me, which only amps my anxiety.

  “You think you can just roll up in here and stake claim? This ain’t no fancy race track.”

  “You’re the one who rolled up. I was just hanging. But now that you mention it, I do think I can just lay claim. I already have. And all I did was sit on my frame.”

  “You think you’re street? Why don’t you put your pussy where your mouth is?”

  Say what? I straighten my spine.

  “You want to race?” Reese rises to the challenge.

  “I do, and when I win, I want your piece of shit and your piece of ass. Then I want you to get the fuck out of my town and never come back.”

  “Oomph. You’re jaded. Still not over our last race, huh? Are you a masochist?” Reese riles him. “Itching for me to leave skid marks down your back again? Am I the one who got away? The only one who can satisfy your sadistic craving? Let’s go then. I’ll get you off and put my pussy up just to let you save pathetic face.”

  Excuse me? I look immediately at Dev, who is seething.

  “You’re on,” Viper revs his V-Twin.

  “And you’re on your own.” I hop off Reese’s bike, enraged.

  All eyes center on me.

  “Kayla?” Reese’s tone elevates, dismayed.

  “Oh, are we using my real name now?” I rip my helmet off his gas tank. “What happened to pussy?”

  “What the fuck?” Reese bites, as I climb on the back of Dev’s bike.

  “Get me the fuck out of here.” I’m so pissed, I’m shaking. What the fuck does Reese think? Just because I slept with him, he can pass me around to all his scummy friends? Fuck you.

  “Kayla.” Reese stands as Dev turns on his bike.

  “Reese,” I echo disdainfully, yanking on my helmet. I flip Reese the finger as Dev drives off. I. Am. Livid. I didn’t put myself through college and nursing school, then fight for a good job, to be fucking objectified as a piece of community ass. This is exactly why I say bikers are nothing but trouble.

  The ride home does nothing to calm me. Not even when Dev rubs his hand soothingly over mine at a stop light. I just feel so fucking stupid. I should have never trusted him. Never given in to a biker, period. Professional or otherwise. You can take the man off the street, but you can never take the street out of the man.

  “Fuck,” I mutter as I jump off Dev’s backseat once he’s parked in my driveway. I see a ten-mile run in my future to burn off the memory of Reese fucking Dane.

  “Hey.” Dev grabs my arm as try to stomp off.

  “What?” I tear my helmet off.

  “You made him look like an asshole back there.”

  “What?” I nearly implode. “He’s the one who made me look like an asshole. I’m not some bike bunny he can just pass around!” I try to escape his grasp, but he locks on tighter. “Dev, let me go.”

  “No, not until you calm down.”

  “I’m not going to calm down! I’m pissed off and I want to be alone.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m worried you might be a threat to yourself or others.”

  “What?” I tilt my head. “Are you being fucking serious right now? You’re psychoanalyzing me?”

  “In my professional capacity, yes.”

  “You’re as crazy as your brother.”

  “We do
share the same DNA.”

  “Warped DNA.”

  “Meh.” He shrugs. “Whose isn’t?”

  He’s got me there.

  “We do definitely like the same things.” He pulls me closer. Oh no.

  “I’ve noticed.” I step back but don’t get very far. “What are you doing?”

  “Going after what I want.”

  “No. You’re not.” I put my hands on his chest, my heartbeat elevating.

  “Don’t fight me, Kayla.”

  “I’m done with both of you,” I spit.

  “No, you’re not. You’re just beginning.” He leans in, and I freeze.

  “Dev, this isn’t right. I don’t want to ping-pong between the two of you.”

  “You don’t have to.” He’s so close; I can feel his breath fan across my cheek.

  “How can I not?” I swallow the thick ball of emotion caught in my throat.

  “Kiss me and find out.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “I hate him.” I vent.

  “I know you do. But I’m here now.”

  There are no words after that, just an explosive mingling of tongues and a cocktail of confusion.

  I’m so weak. Five minutes ago, I was fuming. Now, I’m crumbling into Dev’s arms.

  I don’t know how long we kiss—minutes, hours, days possibly. The only thing I’m sure of is that I never want him to pull away. As much as I’m damning myself, the allure of burning in hell has never been so rapturous.

  The thunderous sound of a street bike careening into the driveway rips us apart.

  Hell has no fury like a racer scorned, I guess, because Reese is furious. His eyes are an incinerating blue as he approaches us.

  “What the fuck?” he snarls, as I push away from Dev. This is the most fucked-up situation ever. I’m still mad at Reese for what he did, yet I feel tremendous guilt for making out with his brother a fraction of a second later. I need to be institutionalized.