by Snow, Nicole
His eyes narrowed, and he pinched my ass until I whimpered. “Last time I'm telling ya, it's Asphalt now. Asphalt forever. Tomorrow, I'm leaving this town behind with no regrets. You're the only thing I'll be missing when I think about this shithole.”
His voice rang solid. No sarcasm, no lie – just plain truth.
I couldn't take it. His hand pushed against my ass as I stood up on my tiptoes, pursing my lips. His mouth covered mine with a growl, and the heat in my blood turned into fireworks.
We kissed, hotter and longer than anything I'd ever imagined. He gave me passion, so much it threatened to consume me. I lost myself in his strong, sexy lips, relishing his arms around me, and offered him my heat like the world was about to end.
I think it did when his tongue slipped past my lips. He conquered me, opened me like no man ever had. My lips were all over the bastard, Asphalt and Austin, a kiss equal parts beginning and end, hello and goodbye.
My heart banged like a car crash by the time he finally let go.
For a second, we stood there, staring. Both shocked from the sudden explosion of lust, disbelief over what just happened mingling with the howling need for more.
I flipped my hair back and wrapped my hands around his neck. I hadn't planned to lose my virginity tonight, but suddenly, I was totally ready.
If his mouth felt like heaven, then his body promised ecstasy I couldn't imagine. I didn't want fantasy anymore, I wanted this for real, embracing the wet, greedy urge to feel him between my legs.
“Come inside,” I whispered, my voice turning into a moan. “The prospects don't normally come in as long as they see the TV going in the living room. And daddy's out late all the time, he usually doesn't get in until two or three, sometimes later...”
“Fuck, babe, do you even know what the hell you're saying?” He grinned, his powerful jaw tensing with the same dark energy in his beautiful emerald eyes.
“Yeah, Asphalt. I do.” I slipped my hand back into his and reached for the door, twisting my key into it, ready to lead him straight to my bed.
But we never got that far.
The door burst open before I could finish unlocking it. A huge, angry hand reached for my wrist, flinging me against the wall.
I saw a blur of the murder on daddy's face before he marched out to kill the only man I'd ever kissed.
* * * *
“What in the ever living fuckity fuck were you doing with my little girl?” For an older man, daddy had the strength of ten raging bulls when he got mad.
I watched him fling the big badass I'd just had on my lips against the wall like he was a ragdoll, one hand around his throat, his handlebar mustache twitching with pure venom.
“Jesus Christ, Prez, ease up!”
“Don't think so, motherfucker.” I had to lean close, one ear out the door, as daddy's voice lowered to a deadly boom. “You've been going behind my goddamned back too many times, treating this patch like it's the only reason you've got for growing a dick. No more. These colors aren't a fuckin' joke, kid. They've got blood behind them.”
I poked the rest of my head out just in time to see daddy land a savage blow to Asphalt's gut. My crush doubled over, dropped to his knees, and hit the ground. Then my father looked up and saw me, his eyes blazing full bloodlust.
I think I died on the spot.
My head shook slowly, tears welling in my eyes. So much for salvaging this prom, the beauty of a first kiss, much less pretending I wasn't waist deep in this violent, secretive life.
“Elle Jo, get the hell inside. Now! I'm not gonna ask you again, sweetheart.”
The tears came, hot and poisonous, as I slinked away. Just before the screen door slammed shut, I heard daddy let out a heavy sigh, his face dangerously close to Asphalt's.
“You're a lucky fuckin' punk tonight. You deserve to be gutted for putting your filthy hands on my daughter, but even I don't have the heart to do it right in front of her. Let's go, cockmongler. You can lick some of your fuckin' namesake off my driveway while we go out back for a chat.”
My hand shook, holding the screen door open, just enough to hear Austin groan. Then there was nothing but the sound of a body being dragged behind the fence, into our backyard. My heart beat wild, on the verge of giving out.
Couldn't believe it. Just couldn't.
The full horror of what was happening made me wretch.
It wasn't going to get better, was it? I hadn't seen my father this pissed for months – not since he was screaming at that other club President from California on the phone.
Daddy sent me to the safe house that night, surrounded by three burly prospects. Something about a reckoning coming one day with the national MC because someone called Fang had fucked up everything, and the Mexican cartels would be sawing everyone's heads off to pay for his mistakes.
Who knows what he'll do when he's like this? I can't just sit on my hands. I have to save Austin!
My feet didn't match my brain's courage. I couldn't just rush out and meet them head on, especially if I stumbled into daddy with a gun against my neighbor's head.
So, I compromised. I crept toward the back door, undid the latch, and held my breath as I tried to push the screen open as carefully as possible.
“You're taking this shit way too seriously, Prez. Elle Jo's becoming a young woman. She's grown up. A few more months, and she'll be out on her own. Good fucking luck telling her who she should kiss then.”
The lump building in my throat was like solid stone. Asphalt had balls, talking back to my father like that, especially when he faced an execution on our patio. It made me love him even more.
Wait, love? No, maybe not, but at least a stupid little crush that had finally come into full bloom tonight.
It wouldn't have worked out, of course. I wasn't stupid. He didn't call me princess for nothing.
In a year's time I'd be sitting in a Seattle sorority with new friends and some handsome jocks who'd never held guns in their lives. My life here would be a distant memory, I hoped, and if I didn't see another switchblade shining in the light or a grizzly bear patch for years, then I'd consider myself very lucky.
No, Austin and me, we didn't have a prayer. Even if I wasn't heading off to college, Asphalt – god it felt strange to think of him as that – was leaving the state. Assuming daddy let him off the hook still breathing tonight.
Right now, that was all I cared about.
“She's my daughter, damn it. My own flesh and blood, asshole! If I want to hear your horseshit excuses, trust me, I'll ask.” A heavy thud landed in someone's chest, cutting through the night.
Asphalt swore, barely able to vocalize. Daddy's voice boomed loud, dangerous as ever.
“Shut your yap. You breathe another fuckin' word about what she wants or how I oughta treat her, and I will put hot lead through your skull. I don't give a single fuck who she winds up with, as long as she's happy, respected, and safe. My girl deserves better than some boozin' and whorin' shit-for-brains prospect sticking his clap filled dick in her, and she's gonna get it.”
“Yeah, she does, Gil,” Asphalt growled, staggering up, blood running between his teeth and out his mouth. “A girl as smart as her deserves to make her own damned decisions. She was smart enough to lay off the kid she took to prom tonight who acted like he owned her. She picked me, Prez, just like it was meant to be. All these years of flirting and teasing, don't tell me you're fucking blind?”
My heart nosedived and swooned back up in my chest. Ballsy and arrogant as ever, yeah, but he told the truth. It wasn't just the fact that he'd given grabby Mike a harsh send off.
“Thing is, she wants me. I know I can't have her. I'm leaving your fucked up club. I know when to let you go. You've gotta learn to let her go, too, let her live on her own,” Asphalt continued. “I won't be anything you've gotta worry about in a few more weeks. The boys in California are more my style. This fucking transfer can't come soon enough.”
I'd fought my little crush on the bastard foreve
r. Ever since the day he'd stopped in town to help me change a flat on my bike, I'd known there was a deeper side to him than the pretend killer with the take-no-prisoners attitude.
This crush didn't mean I wanted to marry him. He'd never be husband material or anyone I'd hitch myself to forever, but god, his lips were just perfect tonight.
Too good to lose forever.
I clenched my teeth and threw the screen door open, stepping outside. I was just in time to see the death stare between the two men end with daddy pulling his gun.
My jaw dropped. Before I could say anything, he pushed a boot into Asphalt's guts, knocking him to the ground. His pistol flew up and barked two deafening gunshots.
Asphalt, Austin, the first man I'd ever tasted, screamed on the ground. Daddy spun around, and we locked eyes, sharing the same look of mutual horror.
“No! Jesus, daddy, you...you...didn't...” I stumbled a couple steps backward.
I couldn't bring myself to finish it, to ask if he'd killed him. My eyes danced to the body on the ground. Some tiny relief flickered through me when I saw Asphalt moving, rolling on the ground in agony, clenching his shoulder.
Then I saw the long, thick crimson stream making its way across the cracked patio. So much for barbecues. I'd never see it the same way with a man's blood trickling across the tile.
“God damn it, Elle Jo, I told you to stay inside! What the fuck's the matter with you, girl? You gone deaf today?” Snarling, he shoved his gun back in its holster, and caught up to me before I could run.
I screamed as he grabbed my arms and pushed me inside, firmly but gently, slamming the screen shut between us.
“You're too good to care about what happens to this piece of shit. I raised you better than to fall for bastards like him, and you know it. Your ma knows it, bless her soul.”
I winced, pinched my eyes shut, and shook my head.
“Daddy, don't.” I looked up, letting him see my anger, even if it threatened to get someone killed. “Don't ever use her name like that again.”
“It's the God's truth, sweetheart. We both know it. I'm taking out the trash before he leaves his fuckin' stink all over you. I get it, you think he's just a cute boy with a chip on his shoulder.” Growling, daddy pulled out his gun, and motioned again to my crush, bleeding on the ground. “I'm saving you from making one helluva mistake. You won't understand tonight, sweetheart, but you will someday.”
“No, daddy, you're the one making a mistake. Austin's right. I deserve to make my own choices. I'm eighteen now, and I'll be out on my own this fall. You can't treat me like a little girl forever.”
The rage on his face cracked. The soft smile that appeared was totally out of place. But that's the kind of man my father was, a storm in a bottle who gave all his love to me while he went away to kill, abuse, and do who knows what else.
“You can choose whatever the fuck you want, baby doll, just as long as it isn't him or any other sorry bastard wearing a one-percenter patch.” Daddy turned, his hawk eyes focusing on the unfinished business a few feet away. “Wish you'd understand. This maggot's dirty, and I don't just mean bitches and smokes kinda filthy. He's already been hanging with the NorCal boys, and that's where he belongs. Those fuckers aren't like us. Not anymore. They lost their damned honor years ago and made this club a fucking laughing stock. Your boy here will fit right in.”
“Wait!” I rammed the screen as hard as I could until it flew open, forcing him to pause. “You can't kill him. I know you don't like him and you're punishing him for what he's done. But I brought it on. I let him kiss me. I wanted him to.”
I locked eyes with the man laying on the ground. There was a glimmer of the heat we'd shared when our mouths locked behind his pain. I had to look away, before it totally consumed me.
“Do this for me, daddy. Everyone deserves a second chance, and you know it. He's too young to die, he's still finding his way. He...he treated me good.”
Several dozen teases flashed through my mind at once, all the mysterious little moments I'd shared with the bastard. I'd relived them a few hundred more times with girlfriends over the years, listening to them chattering about me, the only girl he'd ever been sweet on.
“Back inside. Now. I'm not asking again, Elle, and you'll do it if you want me to consider anything you've said tonight.”
He wasn't playing around anymore. Slowly, I pivoted and headed back into the house, flattening myself against the wall in the kitchen, where I could still hear what was going on while staying out of sight.
“Fuck's sake, Prez. You really gonna kill a brother out here in your own backyard? I – ah, fuck!” The soft strain in Asphalt's voice fragmented with new pain.
“No. Let me tell you, boy, you're a lucky sonofabitch. I'm letting you off with a few warning slugs in that fucked up shoulder. When I pull my fuckin' boot off your chest, I'm gonna walk to the gate and open it up. You'll crawl through it, straight down the street, get on your bike, and never, ever come anywhere within fifty miles of Seattle-Tacoma.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, you got yourself a whole pile,” daddy growled. “I'll talk to Blackjack. He's always been good at keeping the boys down there in line and putting 'em where they need to go. One of the only good men left south of Klamath.”
“Okay. Okay. Whatever you say.”
“Now you're starting to learn, Ass-fault. Maybe there's hope for you yet, but I'm not holding my goddamned breath. Fuck's sake, I'd suffocate.”
I shuddered. My father's voice took on a wicked satisfaction, the way a lion would talk if it was able to while playing with its prey.
“It's go time. Just one more thing.” He paused, and somewhere in that blank space his voice became daggers. “Stay away from my little girl. Forever. Don't ever come near her again, you bald headed fuck, or I swear to Christ I'll put you in the ground.”
Another long pause. Then the sound of a boot kicking, straight into Asphalt's chest, hard enough to splinter several ribs.
My stomach churned. I covered my mouth, fighting the sick need to throw up, wiping at the tears rolling down my cheeks with the other hand.
The gate creaked open, and several new boots clattered on the old patio outside. Daddy spoke to several of his men in hushed whispers before he pulled out his lighter. I listened to him flick the flame on. In my mind, I could see him holding it to light another one of the cigarettes he rolled by hand as part of his morning ritual.
“Carry this sack of shit out, brothers. Make sure that Tacoma bottom rocker's off his cut before he leaves town. Don't ever want this dumbass kid embarrassing our charter again.”
“You got it, Prez.” I heard Uncle Line whistle, leading the prospects out, imagining his one-eyed face staring over the grisly scene.
Asphalt groaned as they dragged him out. My signal to make my feet work again. I fought the urge to throw up as I tottered up the stairs. I barely shut my door and crashed out on my bed before daddy came inside, slamming the screen shut behind him.
By some miracle, he never heard me cry myself to sleep that night.
The only man worthy of putting his lips on mine was gone forever, if he even lived through the night.
II: Blowout (Asphalt)
Present Day
“Shit. It's always some fucking thing, isn't it?” Brass slapped the table so hard I could feel it vibrate beneath my palms.
The other brothers weren't looking at me like the hothead for once. The Veep was pissed, and who the fuck could blame him? Hell, with all the guys hooking up and taking old ladies left and right, they had more reason than ever to hate the bloodshed coming our way.
“Enough, son. What's going on up in Tacoma cuts straight to the heart of this club's future.” The Prez slicked his long gray hair back and tightened his grip on the bear claw serving as his gavel.
When Blackjack spoke, everybody listened. I tensed up in my seat and sat a little straighter. He'd led us through some crazy, fucked up shit the last few months, and we were so clo
se to peace everybody could taste it.
I didn't mind the peace and quiet, honestly. Every man needed a break after all the life and death, old lady drama shit we'd been through. But fuck if my fists weren't hungry to break some bones.
“We could've easily ended up with a new civil war on our hands if it hadn't been for you boys.” Blackjack looked across to me, Roman, and Stryker. “No charter tolerates having their Prez hog-tied and roughed up. But Gil didn't leave us any choice.”
“No, he didn't,” I growled. “Him and I go way back. You'd better believe the man was pissed off when we strapped him down and grilled his ass about the Chinese in his own damned office. No small miracle we managed to get him on the phone with you, Prez, and diffuse a fucking shootout with Tacoma.”
“So, no evidence of dirty deals?” The Prez's sharp eyes narrowed on Roman, our overgrown Enforcer.
“None. If he's been dealing extra ammo and weapons behind our back, he's doing a damned good job of covering it up.”
Blackjack's lips twitched and he pulled out a fresh smoke, making a show of slowly lighting it and taking a long drag before he spoke. “Well, if he's up to the bullshit we think he is, we need to find out before anybody else does.”
“Damned straight,” I said. “If the Devils see some shit and think we're skimming off their shipments to new suppliers, it'll fuck up the whole alliance we've had since Fang bit the dirt.”
“Nobody needs that shit.” Brass leaned back in his chair, locking eyes with his blood brother, Rabid. They shared a nod.
I could've rolled my damned eyes.
This wasn't about how glad we all were that the old Prez was dead and we'd put Blackjack in his place, turning this club right-side up. All the boys in this MC were going soft since they'd taken women.
Shit, some of 'em were family guys now, even the giant next to me. I'd only helped his ass move in a few weeks ago with his babe, Sally, and the change was fucking obvious.
Ever since Roman found out his old flame had popped out a kid, he'd gone from hardass goliath to diaper changing daddy. Spent more time with his family than he did at the clubhouse, except when we all had to get dirty.
