by Snow, Nicole
Fuck no. Not this week, not this year, not ever.
My hands squeezed so hard I could feel the fire in my chest, bringing the crude drunk to death's doorstep.
Didn't let up 'til he was finally limp underneath me. I checked his pulse to make sure I hadn't killed the asshole. Fucker had a heartbeat, however weak.
Maybe somebody would bludgeon him to death another night, or maybe he'd learned a powerful lesson here. That shit wasn't up to me. I staggered to my feet, rubbing my temple and hot, damaged ear.
Fuck. Just my luck that I'd probably have a nasty bruise across my face for the wedding later this week.
I looked up. The girl he'd been groping clung to her pole on stage, staring at me with those fuck me eyes I'd seen on wet pussy a hundred times.
I nodded respectfully and turned around, refusing to look at her again. I wasn't here to fuck, like I said before, and I kept my word.
Two burly bouncers stood behind me, right in the middle of the spectators. I threw my arms out and pushed through them, grinding my teeth as I did.
“Lazy motherfuckers. You're damned lucky I was here to do your dirty work for you. Outta my way.”
When I said jump, they did. Nobody fucked with a man wearing Grizzlies colors on his cut, and Kitty herself would personally have the hide of any employee who did.
When I got back to the bar, I threw my arms out, supporting my weight. “What the hell you looking at? Get me some ice and a fresh bottle. Don't worry, I've got a sober cab tonight.”
“Shit, brother, I want some of what you've had tonight.” Glassy chuckled from the other end of the bar and winked with his good eye.
“Then go off and marry the girl next door for a club op. Shit, maybe you and Stryker can share the next bitch Blackjack wants to use to keep us safe.”
Did I really just say that shit? Yeah, I did.
Glassy looked down awkwardly at his drink and turned away. Well, fuck him too.
Fuck the past. Fuck the endless stream of sewage the club had been dealing with ever since I hooked up with the Redding crew. Fuck the poison running in my veins.
And fuck Elle Jo more than anything else for giving me the shakes every time I thought about crushing my mouth to hers, much less sliding into that sweet puss I'd been denied for four hellish years. Fuck her for making my dick so hard I could've pounded railroad spikes, and fuck her for knowing I'd never be driving it into her, ripping at her hair, spilling my come up inside her.
Fuck. Everything.
I didn't know what the hell fate had in store after I saw my name inked on her skin and she started calling me her old man. But I could damned well guarantee it meant watching a few worlds turn to ashes by the time it was all over.
III: Down the Aisle (Elle Jo)
“All right. All right, you motherfucking, cocksucking, hard balling sack of shit. You've got your time and place. Which one is it? No, no wait. Don't fuckin' tell me. I'll find out Sunday. I gotta get the fuck off the phone and break the news...”
The coldest chill of my life ran up my spine. I hadn't slept for the last hour, listening to daddy rant and rave, my ear pressed against the door.
The walls in this old house had always been paper thin. Whatever had him upset had shook up him worse than I'd heard since the night he almost murdered Austin.
I pinched my eyes shut, trying to take long, slow breaths, my hot little ear pressed to the door.
Is this what I've returned for? Really?
I was coming home already. But what choice did I have when grad school was a bust, and I didn't want to go all the way to San Francisco for a crappy translation job that wouldn't even let me afford an apartment?
Daddy offered me a roof over my head, and some work. He offered me club money – a lot of club money for my help on a business deal. Enough to finally be an adult and do grown up things, to get the latest boots and drink nice cocktails in upscale Seattle lounges.
Not that I really cared for those things. Mostly, I just wanted my own space, a condo to share with friends in the city, maybe some imported wines and good chocolate. All the things that let me pretend I still had a shot at a normal life, even though I was twenty-two, and about to crawl deeper than ever down the club's throat.
Jesus. What was I thinking?
I hadn't taken four years of Mandarin Chinese and done an entire summer studying abroad for this.
Too bad life has a funny way of throwing the last thing I ever wanted in my face, dragging me back to Tacoma.
Perfect timing, too. My father was ready to put ink on paper for a black market trade deal with the Shanghai mafia. I'd studied the infamous Black Dragons in an international crime seminar.
They were as dangerous as they were masters in the underworld, and they'd been trying to get a foothold on the West Coast for years. They also had a lot of money and a serious demand for weapons – just what daddy needed to make his chapter the richest one in the entire Grizzlies MC.
Or that's what little he told me, anyway. I doubted the fine print here, whatever it is, even if I couldn't say no because so much money.
“Elle Jo! Open up!” I jumped when I heard his fist pounding on my door. “We gotta talk.”
I'd been so deep in thought I hadn't heard him coming. Slowly, I twisted my lock and pulled it open, pretending to rub fake grog from my eyes.
“Sorry, I know it's late...but this is too damned important. Better we get this shit done sooner than later.” He stepped in and walked over to my bed, sat down with his face in his hands.
This was going to be bad. His defeated posture said it all.
My heart ratcheted up, doubling in speed. I tried to prepare myself, like I always had growing up in this house when something terrible happened to him or the club. But, hell, he hadn't looked like this since the day he told me mom wouldn't be coming home from the hospital...
“Daddy, what is it?” I walked over and spoke to him softly, cautiously, gingerly laying my fingers on his shoulder. “You're really upset.”
“Yeah, isn't that a fuckin' understatement. Shit.” He sighed, filling the long pause before he formed words again. “There's no easy way to say this, darling. So let me just lay it out. Elle, You're getting married this Sunday.”
“What?!”
The whole world went out from under me. I stepped back, shaking my head, wondering if I'd heard him right.
“Yeah, I know it's a clusterfuck of a surprise. This wasn't what I wanted for you, or the club, but the fuckers down in NorCal are twisting my nuts so hard they're about to bust off. I told you about this shit with the Chinese, the big deal coming up that I really need your help with. It's for the good of the club, and they're too stupid to realize it. So, me and the boys are going it alone with the Dragons. And Redding'll have my head on a pike if they find out what's going on up here. I gotta stall those fuckers out, keep the peace, just long enough to wheel and deal those mean motherfuckers from Shanghai. You follow?”
“No, daddy, I don't! What's that got to do with me...getting married?” I could barely force out the last part.
My stomach lurched every time I thought about it. Every girl's dream is to meet a handsome man, a best friend, a boy who lights a fire in her belly and an inferno in the bed.
Did I want a husband someday? Sure.
It just wasn't supposed to be happening like this. There should've been a courtship, a proposal, a slow, delicious season of falling in love – not being handed off to a man I'd never even seen like a piece of meat!
“You're out of your mind!” I shouted, throwing my fists in the air. “I can't go along with this. I won't. Nothing could possibly be worth trading me for...for what, exactly?”
“Saving lives and keeping the peace, that's what. Blackjack down in Redding, the national Prez, he doesn't trust my ass for good fuckin' reason. We're gonna give him one so he'll shut his fuckin' yap. He wants a guy embedded up here to scope things out, and we'll show him exactly what he's allowed to see. We'll make that long hai
red old fart think we're playing right along, and by the time the deal's done, he'll be none the wiser. We'll send his boy packing after a few weeks and I'll get your names on the divorce papers. Easy, peasy.”
“That's asking a lot.” I snapped. “I...I don't think I can do it, dad. I'm sorry.”
Daddy's hand shot out, seized mine, and pulled it close. He hadn't held my hand to his rough, scarred cheek for years. He did that thing that made me think of a loyal old dog, one who'd jealously guarded me a thousand times.
Except now he had a splinter in his paw, and he was looking at me to pull it out.
“Baby, don't apologize. You just listen. If it were up to me, I'd have you marrying a guy with charm and fortune behind his name. Shit, you remember how I got when boys would come sniffing around you while you lived at home...I chased all the rats away because I wanted the best for you. I still do. Unfortunately, shit's not working out that way. I can't get you shit if I'm no longer breathin' because Redding blows my brains out.” He opened his big blue eyes and looked at me, the same ones I'd inherited.
“You're a smart girl. You've had more schoolin' than anybody in this family ever did. I saw your transcripts, you took political science and shit for that fancy foreign language degree. Well, this is politics. Real world, outlaw fuckin' politics, and it gets nuts. We're dealing with the lifeblood of Tacoma here. Life and death. An olive branch. A marriage of convenience to Redding while we slay some Dragons – in trade, I mean – nothing more. You walk down the aisle, share a place with this guy for a few months, distract him while I keep things rolling on the home front here in Tacoma, and we'll forget this ever happened.”
“But, daddy...”
“No buts. I'm asking you to play pretend. Sure, we'll make it look official for club morale with a ceremony and all, but that's as far as it goes. You don't have to ride with this asshole or sleep with him. Just act like a nice old lady out in public for his dumb ass, help me bide time, and I'll keep the divorce papers warm in my desk drawer. He'll be out of your hair before you can say 'fuckin' go,' and one day you'll find a man who won't give a shit that you had a three month marriage with some random outlaw asshole from California.”
I pulled away from my father. I had to turn away, processing the brutally insane offer he'd thrown in my face.
I walked backwards until the wall wouldn't let me go any further. His big blue eyes stayed on me. I couldn't stop seeing the desperate, wounded dog, all the pride and joy he'd shown me over the years, melding with a plea.
Do this for me, Elle Jo. I didn't have to hear him say it. His face did all the talking. Please. Just this once.
“Well, baby? What do you say? It'll be a good excuse to try on your ma's old wedding dress.”
Daggers. My intestines twisted so hard I wanted to throw up in his face. I lunged, stepped up, and slapped him.
Hard.
“Fuck you, dad!” The air I sucked in singed my lungs. “I'll do it for you, for the good of this family and your club. But don't you ever invoke her name to make me fall in line again. I'm not a damned teenager anymore.”
“Fair point.” Taking it like a champ, he stood up.
Physical pain never bothered him, and emotional agony didn't seem to do much either. Not when he got exactly what he wanted anyway. And I'd just handed him everything on a silver platter.
Again. So much for being a grown woman, right?
God damn it.
“Who's the man I'm supposed to wed, anyway?” I said, chewing on the words. All so bitter.
Maybe the more I talked about it, the easier it would be. Ha ha, right.
“Didn't ask that part when I cut the deal,” he said, scratching the scarlet mark I'd left on his face through his salt and pepper stubble. “Does it really matter? Nobody's asking you to love the dog.”
I didn't say anything, just lowered my eyes.
He really didn't grasp the full insanity of what he was asking me to do. It didn't matter if I even liked the bastard I'd be forced to wed. He'd still be my first husband, the first man I lived with, my first tender kiss as a wife.
That last part was a maybe. It scared me, honestly, especially when I hadn't been kissed since that night with Austin more than four years.
“Darling, listen, it's gonna be okay,” he said, reaching for me.
I jerked away. “Just go. I need some time to process. Not to mention start getting ready for everything with what little notice you've given me.”
“Yeah, I'm real sorry about that. Only finalized the shit last night, when I realized there was no way out of it. That bastard, Blackjack, he's already nipping at my heels, just looking for a chance to eighty-six me and put another puppet in place who'll dance for the Redding club. Greedy, demanding fucks. All of 'em.” He softened his anger before he spoke again. “Look, I already promised you work up here, and that part doesn't change. I'm gonna need you around, helping with the Chinese deal when it's all patched up. You can understand those boys like we can't. They'll never see it coming. We're gonna make a lot of money from this, baby. I'll be a dead man before anybody tries to take your fair share.”
I turned away. He wasn't making me feel better.
For a second, he lingered, probably feeling a pang of fatherly guilt over this whole thing. That should've counted for something. But it didn't. Not when Gil, the Grizzlies MC President, overruled it.
“Okay, Elle Jo. Try to get some sleep.” One more command, and he was gone, gently closing the door behind me. Just like he used to when I was a little girl and he stopped in to check on me while I lay in my bed, pretending to be asleep.
Kind of ironic that money was suddenly the furthest thing from my mind when it was my whole reason for coming home. Finding a man and getting married in Tacoma was last on my list of dreams.
Well, I hadn't exactly found one, but now marriage was in the cards. I had to make myself think he kept his words, that he was serious about sharing the profits from whatever came out of this dirty deal with the foreign mafia.
Just think about the money, I told myself. A few weeks married, a few six figure payments, and you can go anywhere. Do anything. Forget all of this crap forever.
It had its appeal. Now, I just had to repeat it to myself a few thousand times, until I actually believed it.
If I survived the next few weeks – a very big if – I swore I'd walk away rich. And once I had my money and dumped my fake husband, no man was ever going to order me around again.
* * * *
“Christ, you're beautiful, Elle Jo.” Daddy didn't look half bad in his charcoal jeans and fresh, clean cut.
He hooked his arm over mine as we stood in front of the double doors, ready to be hoisted open any second by the two prospects on the other side.
“I wish it wasn't going down this way. I'm sorry, sweetheart. One of these days, I'm gonna lead you down the aisle in that getup to marry a man you want to be with. Mark my words.”
“Let's just get this over with,” I whined, fidgeting in my heels.
I'd had about half an hour to practice walking around in them, careful not to trip all over my mom's ivory skirt. I knew at least a few of the tears in daddy's eyes weren't because of what he had to do, or because he was still handing off his daughter for a biker wedding.
He had to be remembering his own, the day she wore this, coming down the aisle toward him with love and hope in her eyes. I tried to hang onto that memory, focus on the greater good.
Hell, I tried to focus on all the compensation I'd get from this sideshow – if it worked out.
I just had to grin and bear it, stay out of harm's way, and then do my thing when he went to negotiate with the Chinese. I hadn't begun to plan how I was going to keep my new husband's eyes off what was going on in the club, but daddy said he'd help with all that.
Whatever else, he lived by his word. I had to count on it. I had to –
The doors swung open. Rock and roll blasted in our faces, and several dozen bikers lined up near the pe
ws roared, holding their hands across their chests in a salute.
Two big, burly prospects from Tacoma nodded, their beards waving. We stepped onto the bright red carpet, heading for the trio gathered near the altar. A tall man with long, gray hair who had to be the infamous Blackjack, a brother who doubled as a priest, and...
Fuck. Daddy mouthed it first. I was right behind him.
I practically stopped in my tracks, staring in disbelief.
Even after all these years, I recognized him. Asphalt had gotten at least an inch taller and filled out with pure muscle since the night he kissed me. He'd been handsome at twenty-one, and now he was an absolute panty melter.
I saw green lights facing my way, and the dizziness hit me like a rocket. They hadn't changed a bit. He beamed the same sharp jade eyes that gazed into mine right before daddy blasted him in the shoulder and pulled him away from me forever.
Except forever wasn't so permanent.
Somehow, I started walking again, toward the handsome shock of my life, pulling on daddy's arm. He'd come to a dead stop, his hand near his side, dangerously close to his holster.
The Redding guys on the other side of us tensed up. Several went for their guns. In this kind of standoff, everything has an equal and opposite reaction.
Before I knew what was happening, guns were raised, locked, and loaded over the booming music. Two crews were about to blow each other apart, and we were right in the middle.
“Oh, God.”
Blackjack burst between us with a snarl, jerking my hand away from my father's, pushing him into a group of Redding Grizzlies.
Daddy wasn't deterred. Just when I didn't think his face could get redder, it turned completely crimson.
Then he exploded.
“Is this a fuckin' joke, Blackjack? Him? Him?! It's bad enough you're asking me to give my daughter up so you can fuck with my club, and now you had to go and rub my goddamned face in it too? Bullshit!”
A man grabbed my shoulders. I spun around, and came face-to-face with those deep green eyes. Each one flickered like a soft, warm ocean, pulling me deep, calming me.
