Murphy: Satan's Fury MC-Memphis

by L. Wilder

  I mulled it over for a few more seconds, then let out a deep breath and started to get inside the truck. Once I was settled, he shut the door, then walked over to the driver’s side and got in. Neither of us spoke as he started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. When he started out onto the main road, I asked, “So, what’s the plan here?”

  “I already told you, I’m taking you home.”

  I tried my best to hide the disappointment in my voice when I replied, “Oh, okay.”

  Feeling dejected once again, I turned and leaned my head against window, completely ignoring him as we continued forward. Just as we were leaving the crowded streets of downtown, something caught Murphy’s attention, and he mumbled something under his breath as he slammed on his breaks. Seconds later, we were parked next to the sidewalk and he was getting out of the truck. He grabbed something out of the backseat, and just before he closed the door, he looked at me and said, “Lock it and stay put.”

  “Um… okay?”

  “No matter what happens, do not move from this spot, Riley. Is that understood?”

  “Yes. It’s understood.”

  With that, he closed the door and waited for me to lock it behind him. Once he was sure that I was secured inside, he started walking towards a group of teenagers who were huddled together near the side of an old brick building. I had no idea what was going on until one of the boys happened to notice that Murphy was headed in their direction. When the boy took a step back, I could see that his friends were harassing an old homeless man, kicking and hitting him as they towered over him like a pack of wolves. The whole scene sickened me, and I hoped that Murphy would be able to put an end to it but feared that there were too many for him to handle. I wanted to call out to him and tell him not to risk it, but it was already too late. The others had seen him approaching, and their focus was now directed at him. Words were exchanged, and I thought they were about to jump Murphy, when instead, the teenagers started to scurry away. It was the craziest thing I’d ever seen. Together, they could’ve easily taken him down, but they all looked completely freaked out as they rushed out of sight. I watched in wonder as Murphy walked over to the homeless man and helped him to his feet. He spoke with him for several minutes, and once he saw that he was okay, he offered him the coat he’d gotten out of the backseat. After he’d put it on, Murphy reached into his front pocket and pulled out some cash. He gave the money to him, then turned around and walked towards the truck.

  I unlocked the door, and as soon as he was back inside, he started up the truck and drove away. I wanted to ask him about what had just happened, but I couldn’t form the words. I was too stunned. I couldn’t believe that the same man who’d thrown me over his shoulder, smacked my behind not once, but twice, and carried me out of the bar like a caveman had shown such compassion and kindness to an elderly homeless man. It just didn’t make sense to me.

  Maybe it was the fact that I was intoxicated or maybe because I was so lost in my own world of thoughts, whatever the reason, I never even noticed that he didn’t take the exit to the interstate. Instead, Murphy had pulled up to a beautiful cobblestone house and parked. He opened his truck door and said, “We’re here.”

  As I sat up in my seat, I looked out the window and asked, “Wait. I thought you were taking me home.”

  “You’re right. I did.” I was beyond confused. I thought I was starting to sober up, but apparently, I still had a long way to go. Murphy got out of the truck and continued, “I just didn’t say whose home I was taking you to.”

  “Hold on … This is where you live?”

  “Yes. This is where I live.” He walked over and opened my door, then reached for my hand and led me up to the front steps. Even though it was dark, I could tell we were in a nice neighborhood, most likely in midtown. Like several of the other homes around him, it had a small front porch and a large fenced-in backyard, but unlike the others, his was landscaped with elegant shrubbery and flowers along the walkway. As he unlocked the front door, he shrugged. “It’s not much, but it’s home. Go see for yourself.”

  I stepped inside, and my mouth dropped open when he turned on the lights, revealing a quaint little entry way with checkered tile and an elaborate, crystal chandelier hanging above the hallway that led to the second floor. As I started towards the living room, I quickly realized that Murphy had spared no expense when it came to making his home just the way he wanted it. His furniture, the color of the walls, the newly refinished hardwood floors, and even the artwork hanging throughout the room looked as if they were all made specifically for him. When I walked into the kitchen, it was much of the same—elegant but comfortable. I could barely contain myself. “It’s really incredible, Murphy.”

  “Glad you think so.”

  “Was it like this when you bought it?”

  “I did most of it myself, but I had some of the brothers give me a hand.” He took off his leather jacket and hung it on the back of a kitchen chair before walking over to the refrigerator. He opened the door and looked inside then asked, “Have you had dinner?”

  I wasn’t really in the mood to eat, so I answered, “No, but I’m not really hungry.”

  “You need to eat something, Riley.” Before I had a chance to respond, he asked, “What are you in the mood for? I could make us a couple of burgers or a full on breakfast. The choice is yours.”

  “Actually … breakfast sounds really good.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  He grabbed a package of bacon along with a pound of sausage and after he placed them on the counter, he pulled out the eggs and a couple of cans of biscuits. Once he had everything laid out, I walked over to the stove and asked, “What can I do?”

  “Nothing. I’ve got this.” Then, he offered me a large glass of water and two Tylenol. “Just make yourself comfortable.”

  After the way he’d put me in my place at the bar, it was hard to believe that he could be so sweet. It was like the old Murphy had returned, and while I couldn’t have been more pleased that he was back, I found myself wondering why he’d come to the bar to find me, especially after the way I’d talked to him on the phone. It didn’t make sense. He should’ve been completely turned off by what he called my “little tantrum,” but there he stood, preparing to cook breakfast for me. Either he really was interested in me or he simply felt sorry for me. I was curious to know the answer. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Let’s get some food in you, and then you can ask me whatever you want.”

  “And you’ll give me an honest answer?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Okay.” After I took the Tylenol he’d given me, I went over to the kitchen table and sat down. As I sat there watching him with his broad shoulders, defined, muscular chest, and unruly dirty-blond hair, I thought how odd it was that such a gruff biker was actually cooking bacon and eggs for me. I couldn’t have imagined anything sexier, and it was difficult to resist the temptation of going over to be close to him. Thankfully, my growling stomach distracted me, and as soon as he was done, I helped him carry everything over to the table. Once we’d made our plates, I dug in, and it was absolute heaven. With my mouth still full, I mumbled, “Oh, my. This is incredible.”

  “Yeah. I gotta admit, it’s not half bad,” he replied proudly. I took another bite, and it wasn’t long before I’d cleared my plate. When Murphy noticed, a big smile crossed his face. “So, I take it you were hungrier than you thought?”

  “Apparently so, or maybe it’s just due to the fact that it was so good. You really outdid yourself.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” When he got up to put our dishes in the sink, he asked, “How are you feeling?”

  Then I remembered how I’d behaved earlier. “Mentally or physically?”

  He chuckled. “Let’s start with physically.”

  “Well, there, I’m doing okay.”

  “You think you’re sobering up?”

  I shrugged. “I guess so. The room has stopped spin
ning.”

  “Good.” He brought me another bottle of water and placed it on the table in front of me. “You need to keep hydrated.”

  “Okay.” After I took a sip of water, I told him, “By the way, it was really sweet of you to help that homeless guy like you did.”

  “He would’ve done the same for me.”

  “So, you know him?”

  “He’s a vet … One of our brothers, Sam, was in a similar situation a few years back, so we try to keep an eye out for him when we can.”

  “He’s lucky to have you do that for him. Who knows what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come by there when you did.”

  “Good thing we don’t have to find out.”

  With my buzz quickly wearing off, I was starting to feel cold and suddenly wished I was wearing something more than my little black dress. I ran my hands over my bare arms, then crossed my arms, hugging myself for warmth. Murphy noticed that I was cold and said, “Come into the living room and I’ll start a fire.”

  “Okay.” I grabbed my bottle of water and followed him, then I sat down on the sofa and watched as he lit the gas logs. Once the fire was rolling, he pulled a blanket off the back of the sofa and offered it to me. Wrapping it around me, I smiled and said, “Thank you, Murphy.”

  He sat down next to me and quietly watched the fire as it danced between the logs. I could tell by his expression that there was something on his mind, something that brought tension into the room. I could feel it radiating from him, and the longer we sat there without talking, the worse it became. I was beginning to wonder if he was ready for me to leave when he finally said, “You had a question you wanted to ask.”

  “Yeah. I guess I did.” He turned to face me and waited silently for me to speak. It was much easier to ask intimate questions when you’ve been drinking with the courage of alcohol coursing through your veins. Now that I was sober, I wasn’t sure I was brave enough to say the words. After several awkward moments, I finally wimped out and said, “It’s really nothing. Just forget I mentioned it.”

  “Surely, you aren’t about to chicken out on me.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Ask the question, Riley.”

  “Well, one question might lead into another, so be warned.” He nodded, so I let out a deep breath and continued, “On that morning when you came out to the farm, why did you make me think you were going to see me again?”

  “Because at the time, I intended to see you,” he answered flatly.

  “But then you changed your mind?”

  His blue eyes grew intense as he answered, “Yes, but I had my reasons … reasons you might not understand.”

  “Okay, so why don’t you explain it to me,” I pushed.

  “It’s complicated, but all in all, I did it for you.”

  “You did it for me?”

  “I was trying to protect you.”

  “Protect me from what?”

  “From me.”

  Of all things, I wasn’t expecting that to be his answer. He hadn’t tried to hide who he was. I’d seen his club’s name embroidered on the back of his leather jacket. I was there when he came to buy illegal weapons from my father. I knew what I was getting into when he showed up at the farm that morning, and I never once thought I was in any kind of danger. Instead, I felt safe and free to be myself. I loved the time I’d spent with him and longed for more. Hearing that he felt the need to protect me from the man I’d grown so fond of didn’t make sense to me, and I wasn’t so sure that he truly believed what he was saying either. “If you honestly believed you were protecting me by staying away, then why did you come to the bar looking for me tonight?”

  His eyes narrowed as he barked, “You called Gus’s phone, Riley.”

  “And?”

  “And that was a bigger deal than you realize, and a topic we will discuss again later.”

  “Okay, but you still haven’t answered my question.”

  “I needed to make sure you were okay.”

  He was talking in circles, and I was more confused than ever. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t understand.”

  “We have our obvious differences. That, in itself, is enough, but there is so much more than that.” The confidence in his voice was replaced with unease as he said, “I’m not one of those guys who believes in happy endings. I don’t believe in soul mates or love everlasting. In fact, I don’t believe in love in any regard.”

  “Love? Who said anything about love?” I scoffed.

  “After that phone call, you’re gonna try and tell me that the thought of us hasn’t crossed your mind … You haven’t wondered if there could be something more between us? You never once wondered if we could fall in love and have a happily ever after?”

  “Touché.” Trying my best not to lose my momentum, I narrowed my eyes as I looked at him and said, “So, let me make sure I got this straight … You think love is just some word—nothing more, nothing less—and because of this particular belief of yours, you decided to blow me off.”

  “I didn’t blow you off, Riley,” he argued. “But yes. You deserve someone who can give you more … someone who can love you.”

  “How do you know what I deserve? You barely know me.” I shifted in my seat so I was facing him. “I could be the devil incarnate for all you know.”

  “I know, Riley.”

  “How do you know, Murphy?” I pushed.

  “I can feel it,” he answered nonchalantly.

  “So, you can feel that I’m a person who deserves someone who can give me more, but you’re incapable of feeling love?”

  “Never said I was incapable of feeling love. I said I don’t believe in it.”

  “But how can you feel something you don’t believe in?” When his back stiffened, I knew I’d struck a nerve, but I didn’t let that stop me from saying, “You know that doesn’t make any sense, right?”

  “Maybe not, but it is what it is.”

  “Wow. Somebody did a real number on you.” He didn’t verbally confirm my suspicions, but I could tell by the expression on his face that I was right. Someone had betrayed him, and the pain they caused was still there, tugging at him and refusing to be forgotten. I wanted to show him that he was wrong about love, but first, he’d have to trust me enough to let me in. I placed my hand on his thigh and said, “In case you don’t know, not all relationships end bad.”

  “I’ve never known one that didn’t.”

  “I find that hard to believe. There has to be someone you know who has a good relationship … maybe a friend or one of your brothers.” His eyes skirted upward, and I instantly knew that I was right. Even though he’d never admit it, it was clear he knew someone with a good relationship. I gave him a second to think about it before I continued, “My parents fell in love when they were just teenagers, and they were still madly in love thirty-five years later.”

  “And yet, he’s alone now with a broken heart, selling illegal guns to keep from losing everything else he cared about.”

  He was clearly set on his beliefs and I was probably wasting my breath, but I told him, “True, but he had something really great for a long time. And I bet if you asked him, he’d do it all over again.”

  “A glutton for punishment,” he mumbled in almost a whisper.

  “Maybe so, but he wasn’t scared to try. Can you say the same about yourself?”

  “I’m not scared, Riley.”

  “Okay, then. Prove it.” I inched a little closer to him, and then I did something I never dreamed I would do. I looked into those beautiful, baby blues and with more confidence than I actually felt, I said, “Take a chance right now … and kiss me.”

  I could see the wheels turning in his head as he considered my challenge, and for several moments, he didn’t move. He just sat there with his eyes locked on mine, fighting an inner battle that might never have a victor. Tension coiled around us, making me want to take matters into my own hands. I wanted to know if his touch was anything like I’d imagined in my dreams, b
ut I stayed planted in my spot. Like he’d done earlier, I’d placed the ball in his court, and it was his turn to make the move.

  I was beginning to think he was going to pass on the chance to prove me wrong, when he brought his hands up to my face and slowly brushed his thumb across my bottom lip. He slowly leaned closer, and a warmth rushed over me when I felt a slight tickle from his beard against my jaw. He was so close, just inches away, but he didn’t kiss me. Not yet. Instead, he hovered over me, lingering in that moment of anticipation and lust. When neither of us could stand it a moment longer, he lowered his lips to mine. My entire body tingled as he delved deeper into my mouth. I quickly realized that this was no simple kiss, no simple peck on the lips. There was no working up to something more. From the moment his mouth touched mine, it was a kiss full of passion and need that sent me spiraling into a storm of absolute ecstasy. Murphy’s arm slipped around my waist, pulling me over to him as he continued to claim me with his mouth. I’d never felt anything so intense, so full of desire, as we clung to each other like we were taking in our last breath. I suddenly realized that I wanted more, much more, and the thought terrified me. Doubts rushed over me, and I found myself pulling back. And not just a little. I pulled back all the way, and without even realizing what I was doing, I’d slipped out of his grasp and down onto the floor. Mortified by my actions, I dropped my head into my hands and groaned.