Beyond Reckless

by Autumn Jones Lake

  “I’m ignoring everything else because it’s bullshit.”

  She tugs on her bottom lip with her teeth.

  “You ever think maybe I’m worried about getting involved with you, because I’m no good for you, Charlotte? Not for the bullshit reasons you’re thinking, but because I’m a fuck up who fails everyone I care about. So maybe I’m scared too.”

  The defiant way she juts out her chin tells me I struck a nerve. “I didn’t say I was scared.”

  “Please, you’re so fucking scared you’re trying to shove me out the door as fast as you can.”

  “You just said you didn’t want to stay.”

  “Do you have a hearing problem?” I snarl out the words and push her up against the kitchen counter. “That’s not what I said at all.”

  She places her palms against my chest but doesn’t push me back.

  I place my hands against his chest. At first to push him back, but I don’t have it in me. My right hand rests over his heart, the thrumming under my palm indicating how serious he is. Whatever’s going on in his head isn’t easy to share.

  “What did you mean then?”

  He runs his hands through his hair and takes a step back. “Nothing. Forget it.”

  “Marcel, please. I want to trust you. I already like you so much.”

  His palm slides down over his leg, something I don’t even think he’s conscious of and it triggers a question from me.

  “Tell me about your accident.”

  He slides his gaze—now wary—my way. “What about it?”

  “What happened?”

  His jaw tightens.

  “Was anyone with you?”

  He swallows hard and turns away, leaning over and gripping the back of one of my kitchen chairs. “I can’t. Not right now.”

  My lips part, but I stop myself. He’s not a witness I need to finesse and pry information from. “I shouldn’t—”

  He waves off my attempt at an apology and strides into the living room. When he returns, he’s wearing his boots.

  Waves of disappointment and frustration wash over me, but I can’t open my mouth.

  “I have to go, Charlotte.” He takes my hand and pulls me close. I don’t even have a chance to let it sink in that he’s leaving before his lips are on mine. Hard and insistent. Driven by all the words he can’t seem to express. It’s one short, incinerating kiss that leaves me breathless when he drags his mouth from mine. “We both need time to cool off. But,” he squeezes my hand, forcing me to meet his troubled gaze, “I’m not walking away from you. This isn’t over.”

  He turns on his heel and walks away without another word. He doesn’t slam my front door, but he might as well have the way I jump at the sound.

  My heart aches. From hurting him for no reason. For all the hurt I could cause him if we keep seeing each other.

  He told you he wasn’t walking away. We’re involved.

  I shouldn’t have let him leave. Not like that.

  I’m not sure how long I stand there in my kitchen. Darkness falls and I’m still leaning against the counter, wondering what the fuck happened.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  As if there’s some cosmic joke the universe wants to play on me, the first person I run into at court the next morning is attorney Hope Kendall.

  The wife of the president of the Lost Kings MC.

  I bet she knows something about Teller’s accident.

  Last night, I decided that was the key and I was determined to figure it out. An internet search gave me next to nothing. There have been hundreds of accidents in the Capital Region over the last year.

  It’s just the two of us in the attorney waiting room.

  “How are you, Charlotte?” She flashes a bright smile as she throws her briefcase on the table.

  “Good.” Realizing I have the perfect segue to ask about Marcel, I lean forward. “Thanks for sending Heidi and her fiancé my way. You don’t do adoption work?”

  She seems startled for a second but shakes it off quick. “No. And given my personal relationship to both of them, I didn’t think it was appropriate.”

  Personal relationship? That’s one way of putting it, I guess.

  “You know,” I say, sitting up and flipping open a notebook like I’m just the nerdiest little attorney ever. “I can’t seem to find her mother’s name in my file. Do you happen to know it?”

  She narrows her eyes. “If I’ve heard it, I can’t remember.”

  “Was it…Mariella?”

  Her face pales and she sits back. “No. Where’d you…No. Definitely not.”

  Hmm…she’s going to be a tougher nut to crack than I expected.

  “Her brother, Marcel, came to the appointment with them to watch Alexa.” I paste on a fake smile. “Wasn’t that sweet?”

  “He did?”

  “Heidi mentioned an accident and I noticed he was using a cane, but thought it would be rude to ask. Do you know what happened?”

  She swallows and her gaze darts away. “A car ran into him when he was on his bike.”

  “Oh, that’s horrible. Was he alone?”

  “I think so.”

  For such a good lawyer, she’s a terrible liar.

  My gaze strays to her ring finger. The massive wedding set she’s wearing nearly blinds me. “Did you get married?”

  For the first time since I started badgering her with questions, she relaxes and smiles. “Yes.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.”

  I have so many other questions I want to ask, but she’s already suspicious. The option is taken away from me when another attorney joins us. Hope puts her head down, pretending to study her file, but from time to time I catch her watching me with an enigmatic expression.

  After the shitty way I left things with Charlotte, I’m in an even more foul mood than usual.

  Something Murphy comments on almost as soon as he sees me.

  “You look like shit. Where you been all weekend?”

  “I just saw you Saturday, dick.”

  “Yeah, and then you took off.”

  “What are you, my keeper, now?”

  He rolls his eyes and opens the door wider so I can enter Rock’s house. “Thanks for doing this.”

  “What? Watch my niece? Anytime.”

  Alexa’s on the floor in front of the couch, busy playing with a pile of large plastic blocks in different shapes and sizes. There’s a bigger box to put the blocks in according to size. She alternates between banging them together and trying to place them in the correct holes.

  “Don’t you have some dolls for her?” I ask.

  The corner of his mouth quirks. “Don’t let your sister hear that. She’s down on gender stereotyping toys,” he nods at the blocks, “according to her, those are supposed teach spatial awareness and physical confidence.”

  Yup, that sounds like Heidi, and damn do I love her for always trying so hard to do what’s best for Alexa. Lord, knows our own parents never bothered.

  “What the hell is on her head?” I ask, staring at the stretchy-headband-with-giant-bow thing holding Alexa’s minuscule amount of hair back.

  Murphy snorts. “Hope bought it for her. It’s a whole outfit.”

  “Jesus,” I mutter, taking in the rest of the pink, green, blue, and yellow pants and shirt. The pants are all ruffles from the knees down. “She looks like something out of the Easter Bunny’s basket.”

  “Your sister’s all about the ruffles lately, so keep that to yourself.”

  “So, no girl toys, but girly outfits?” I ask to be a jerk.

  “Exactly. Just go with it.”

  I bend over to pick Alexa up, lightly tossing her in the air. She squeals and slobbers all over my cheek. “What’d your mommy and aunt do to you, Alexa?”

  She chortles and makes a bunch of ba, ba, ba noises.

  “Does she want something?”

  “I think she’s trying to say badass.”

  I can’t help laughing, whic
h makes Alexa giggle some more.

  This is exactly what I needed.

  Murphy picks up a small stack of square picture books. “Alexa loves these, so if you need her to sit still and chill for a few minutes try ’em. She likes turning the pages.”

  “Okay.”

  “You good?” Murphy asks.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “I shouldn’t be gone more than a couple hours.”

  After he leaves, I flick on the television and sit on the floor with Alexa. The blocks keep her busy for a while, but then she starts yawning and touching her face. “Tired?”

  She shakes her head no but lets me pick her up and cuddle her. A few seconds later, she’s snoozing against me. “You seem awfully comfortable sleeping upright. I bet your dad lets you do this all the time,” I whisper, stroking my hand over her back.

  The front door opens and Hope rushes in. “Hey, Teller.” She doesn’t even seem surprised to find me in her living room.

  “Murphy had to run out,” I explain.

  “I know. He called me.”

  “You’re home early.”

  “Rock’s supposed to be here soon.”

  “Oh, God, were you two planning to have a quickie? Should I take Alexa and run?”

  She blushes and laughs. “No.”

  I manage to pull myself and Alexa off the floor without waking her and settle into the couch.

  Hope takes the chair next to me and crosses her legs. The skirt suit she’s wearing reminds me of Charlotte. Who am I kidding. I haven’t stopped thinking about Charlotte. “Were you in court this morning?”

  “Yes.” She taps her finger against her lips for a second as if she’s considering something. “I ran into Heidi’s attorney, Charlotte.”

  “You did, huh. That’s nice,” I answer in what I hope is a disinterested tone.

  Suddenly she leans over and pushes up the sleeve of my shirt, staring at the tattoo with Mariella’s name on my arm. “This is pretty. When’d you get it?” she asks gently.

  “After I got out of rehab.”

  She nods and takes her hand away. “I guess you guys are always getting so much ink, I didn’t notice.”

  I flash a cocky grin, even though I’m feeling anything but right now. “Rock probably doesn’t want you noticing.”

  A soft snort of laughter comes out of her. “I think Rock knows he has nothing to worry about.”

  “Ouch. That’s harsh.”

  “Stop. You know what I mean.” Hope’s expression turns more serious. “How are you? Seeing anyone?”

  I’ve known Hope for a couple years now and can’t ever remember her asking me about my dating habits. I think she prefers not to know what we do and who we do it with. Especially since she’s befriended most of the bunnies associated with the club.

  I’m also uneasy since the first thing she did was mention Charlotte. “Not all of us need to settle down.”

  “True,” she agrees.

  Rock opens the door, and I swear I breathe a sigh of relief. Having Hope’s penetrating gaze trained on me almost has me ready to confess my weekend with Charlotte and ask her what the hell to do next.

  Hope hurries to meet him by the door and the two of them engage in an intimate greeting that has me averting my gaze.

  “Hey, Teller,” Rock calls out. He takes Hope’s hand and they join me in the living room. “How’s our girl?”

  “Sleepy.” The headband’s sitting cockeyed on Alexa’s head now and I slip it off, setting it on the end table. “What’s with the getup?” I ask Hope.

  She chuckles. “It was so cute.”

  “I can take her over to the clubhouse if you guys want to be alone.”

  “You’re fine. Let her sleep,” Hope says. Rock gives her a look like he had a completely different answer in mind.

  That’s Alexa’s cue to wake up. She blinks a few times and looks around as if she’s surprised she’s not on the floor anymore.

  “Hey, baby. Have a good nap?” Rock says, holding out his hand.

  She grasps his fingers and squeals, kicking her feet. A lump forms in my throat. “Thanks for taking such good care of them, Prez.”

  I don’t know where the hell Heidi and Alexa would’ve ended up if Rock and Hope hadn’t welcomed them into their home after Axel died.

  Well, that’s not true. I would’ve found them a place, but it wouldn’t have been at the clubhouse and I really love having them close by.

  Rock takes her from me so I can pull myself off the couch. “I’m going to change her, then take her over to visit Sparky. You know he says she’s good energy for the plants.”

  He snorts and hands her back to me. “Keep her upstairs. She doesn’t need the contact high.”

  “I will.”

  “Any other plans?” Hope asks. I swear she’s still suspicious.

  “Physical therapy later.”

  “Do you need someone to go with you?” Rock asks.

  “Nah, I got it.” In the beginning, I needed someone to go with me because I’d be so drained I couldn’t drive home. Now, I can handle it.

  If I can just figure out how to handle my feelings for Charlotte, life would be perfect.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Prying information out of Hope didn’t go my way. But a couple days later I’m in my office when I’m handed another opportunity.

  Or rather another opportunity barges into my office uninvited and unexpected. I hurry to the reception area and almost fall out of my heels when I find my uncle snooping around.

  “Uncle Chuck?”

  “Char-char!” He embraces me longer than seems necessary, considering this is the first time he’s ever visited me at my office. “How you been, girlie?”

  “Fine. What brings you here?” I have a pretty good guess, but I’m curious about his answer.

  “Well, princess, I heard something kind of disturbing and wanted to talk to you about it.”

  I cross my arms over my chest and sit my butt on the edge of the reception desk. “Do tell.”

  He ignores my sarcasm. “Did you go home with that kid I introduced you to at my birthday party?”

  Teller’s all man, not a kid in any way, but I don’t think that’s the right answer. “What kid?”

  “Don’t fuck with me, Charlotte. I’m serious.”

  “I’m not a mind-reader, Uncle Chuck.”

  “The Lost King. Teller. You fuck him? That direct enough, girlie?”

  My jaw clenches. “I don’t think my personal life is your business.”

  “You kiddin’ me?” He attempts a softer, more fatherly approach. “You’re my only brother’s daughter. Of course everything you do is my business.”

  “That would be a lot more believable if you actually gave a shit about what happened to me.”

  We stare at each other for a long time. Neither of us speaking. Both of us knowing exactly what I’m talking about.

  “That’s ancient history.”

  “For you maybe.”

  “I didn’t come here to argue about things I can’t fix.”

  “Then tell me why you’re here.”

  “You seeing this guy?”

  “Who?”

  “Teller,” he spits out.

  I’m not ashamed to admit I’m enjoying his exasperation.

  “I think we already covered how I feel about you prying into my personal life.”

  He steps closer, trying to intimidate me. My heart thumps, but outside I remain calm and hold my ground, even when he leans closer, running his nose over my hair, breathing in my scent in the creepiest way possible. “You want to know how I know?” he says in a low voice against my ear.

  “Know what?” I answer in as steady of a tone as I’m capable of.

  “You smelled like him the other night.”

  I don’t have time to contemplate how disturbing that is because he has more to say.

  “So either you fucked him in my clubhouse, which would really piss me off. Or you got real cozy with him.�
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  Finally, he stands back, crossing his arms over his chest. “You think you’re special? You have any idea how many sluts he fucks around with? You think what was going on in my clubhouse the other night doesn’t happen in his?”

  I meet his challenging gaze. “I don’t know why you think I care.”

  “Don’t think for a second I don’t know every move you make, girlie.”

  “Why would you bother?”

  “You’re my niece. That’s why. I don’t want some arrogant prick treating you like a whore.”

  “I’ve dated a lot of arrogant pricks. Why are you worried about this one in particular?”

  “Christ, you’re a difficult little bitch.”

  “Yes, I know how much women with opinions and thoughts bother you.”

  He throws his arms in the air. “Don’t start spouting your femifascist-college bullshit at me. This is serious. What would your dad say if he knew you were fucking the enemy?”

  Bringing up my dad is a low blow, but not unexpected. Still, it hurts. “If he’s the enemy why’d you let him into your clubhouse?”

  “Keep your enemies closer and all that shit.”

  A predictable answer.

  “What have they done that’s so awful? Isn’t Uncle Whisper in business with one of them?”

  He sneers. “Yeah, ’cause Ulfric was soft and couldn’t rein in his crew. That shit ends soon.”

  I struggle to hide my surprise that he’d share so much information with me and thankfully he’s too worked up to notice.

  “You want to keep seeing him, then do your uncle a favor and find out what they’re doing in Ironworks.”

  “Isn’t that Vipers MC territory?”

  “Not anymore. Ask your boyfriend why. He had a hand in it. Paid dearly too.”

  “I’m not asking him anything because I don’t care.”

  “You better fucking care. He’s dangerous, Charlotte. You don’t understand what you’re dealing with.”

  I uncross my arms, and push away from the desk, sidestepping him. The desk gives me enough distance to face my uncle. “I’m a grown woman, Uncle Chuck. I’m not going to be told who I can and can’t spend time with. And I’m not going to be dragged into your club nonsense. Now, if you don’t mind, I have to be in court in a few minutes.”