by Vixen, Jayna
The second time…she had done it for him.
He had to hand it to her—Rhee had a sense of honor. But, her impulsive behavior was just too fucking risky.
He groaned aloud. What the fuck was Rhee thinking this time? Or was she just a magnet for trouble? In any case, Dax wanted to spank the living shit out of her. Or maybe he would have to figure out some other kind of punishment. Rhee was starting to enjoy the feeling of his hand on her ass a little too much. So much so, in fact that her panties were usually soaked through before he had the chance to rip them from her quivering body and warm her behind with his palm.
Dax parked his bike, a grim smile on his face. He had no idea what he was walking into right now. Wince was being a goddamn punk, too. Who the fuck could Rhiannon have with her besides Sirena? The guy must be itching for another bump in his nose.
Hawk was off-site, which wasn’t a surprise this time. It was Sharlene’s birthday. Hawk never missed a one—even though his old lady had been gone for decades. Didn’t stop the man from going all out, though. Flowers, candles, the whole nine yards—complete with a whole bottle of whiskey for Hawk to drown in.
Dax hesitated before opening the door to the clubhouse, allowing his thoughts to meander just a little further.
Hawk was a sentimental old bastard. He made decisions based on history and relationships—just as Crow used to do. Those two things were the blood and honor of their organization. Hawk had mentored Dax after Crow’s murder. Dax knew him about as well as anyone could know the current club president. Hawk was hard to read but he was consistent.
Tough but fair.
How did a guy just change his fucking personality overnight? Turn on the club? Impossible. Unless…
They must have something on him. Something big. The only thing was, there was nothing Dax could think of that was big enough to sway Hawk’s loyalties.
Club policy was pretty damn strict about ratting. They’d take his ink by blade or by fire. The club was Hawk’s legacy—his own personal history. He’d fight it. Dax rubbed the scruff of stubble on his chin absently as he mused about his course of action. The only way he was going to figure out what was going on was to put a tail on his club president, and get the intel himself. It was a dangerous move. If Hawk found out, there would be trouble.
Maybe even a club split.
If that happened, Dax knew he would find himself back in the place he had worked so hard to manufacture a way out of. He’d be riding the line again—and this time, so would his family. Which, as he suddenly recalled, might be growing larger in a few months’ time. He pushed open the door and winced at the debauchery that was going on inside. Rhee was somewhere in this fray—and so was Sirena.
Looks like coming back here was a pretty big fucking mistake.
***
Dax planned on making his way straight to the office to meet Wince, but he was ambushed by a set of huge fake tits on heels and a mouth loaded with gloss.
“Baby!”
Her full mouth pressed eagerly against his cheek and her impressive rack crashed against his chest like two boulders. He set the woman away from him, and despite his foul mood, Dax couldn’t help but crack a smile. Charisma had helped Rhee when she made her clandestine escape from the clubhouse with his baby—Sirena—growing in her belly. Dax had been close to throttling this woman a few years ago, but now for some reason, his desire to punish her had faded.
“How you doing darlin’? Still coming to these yard parties, eh?”
Was that a hint of a blush?
“Yes, well, I have my reasons. You’re not still angry with me are you, baby?”
“Nah.”
“I—I heard you found her.”
Dax raised an eyebrow. “No thanks to you.”
“Cut the crap, Dax! Where are they?”
He felt his brow lift a bit higher. “I heard they were here.”
“Here? This is no place for a child.”
“No shit.”
Charisma took a small step back at his tone. “Oh. Well, I’d love to see her—them. Do you mind?”
Dax caught Wince’s eye over the top of her head. He motioned urgently for Dax to head to the office. “Whatever, darlin’.” He took several jerky steps towards the office before calling over his shoulder, “Keep the stowaway and my kid out of trouble for an hour, honey.”
Charisma saluted him and then turned on those fuckin’ stilts she called shoes, presumably to track down his girls—who had better not be in the yard with a bunch of fucking derelicts, if Rhee knew what was good for her. Dax was going to spend five minutes, tops, on whatever awaited him in the clubhouse office. Then, he was going to throw Rhiannon over his shoulder and drag her and his offspring back to his house, where he was planning to fuck his wayward woman into some form of submission.
Dax yanked open the office door. “This had better be fucking important.”
“Hello, Dax.”
That voice. It stopped him dead in his tracks.
Dax gazed at her and he wanted to be mad, he truly did. But, he couldn’t. Dax shut the door and locked it behind him.
“Well, you’re the last person I expected to see here. What’s up, Trish?”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Rhee awoke to a light knock on the door. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. A wave of nausea rolled through her belly. Cold sweat broke out on her forehead as she willed the urge to vomit to go away.
I’m officially late, I’ve taken five negative tests, and now this. What the hell?
Annoyed, she checked her phone. Several text messages and emails had come in from the congressman’s office. Apparently, he wanted to set up another appointment to discuss the amount of his donation. Rhee took a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed.
How do I balance all of this shit? Being back here is making all of us crazy.
The knock sounded again. Shit. Dax is going to be super fucking pissed.
Rhee managed to unlock the door with her sweaty hands and pulled it open a crack. It took her a moment to register the face grinning back at her.
“Thought I’d find you here. Is the baby in here too?” Charisma asked in a loud whisper.
A single image came to mind as Rhee blinked her eyes to make sure the woman standing in front of her wasn’t an apparition. The memory of that glossy, pink mouth coming down on her own, and the twin shocks of pleasure and shame that had raced down her spine stood out in her mind.
It wasn’t as if that was the only significant thing Charisma had done for Rhee. So, why was it that particular image that seemed to have burned itself into her brain?
Yikes. How long have I been staring at her?
“Charisma? What—what are you doing here?”
“Oh, that’s right, how would you know? What with you and Dax having your little island love affair, right?”
Charisma winked and Rhee felt herself flush. “Huh?”
“I guess you could say I’m someone’s old lady these days, honey. Guess who.”
Rhee wracked her brain trying to figure out who the lucky man could be. “Okay, I give up. Tell me.”
“Well, he’s an original…”
“Come on, Charisma. Sirena might wake up any minute.”
“You know, Dax was pretty jacked up after you left. Wince too.”
Oh great. Not this again. Hearing about how her leaving had impacted Dax and the rest of her friends was not Rhee’s favorite subject. Her sentiment must have shown on her face.
“Oh, honey. I wasn’t trying to dig up the past, but it’s a precursor to my present,” she explained.
A porn star who uses the word “precursor.” The people I meet in this place will never cease to amaze me.
“Well? Who is it? Let me guess…the tall, blond one who always wears those sunglasses?”
“Slade? Oh, no. He’s a baby.” Charisma laughed. “It turns out that I have sort of an old guy fetish.”
“You’re kidding? But I thought you did those webcam shows…”
> “With women.”
Women? Oh man, now Rhee had a whole new understanding of what Charisma had been implying that tipsy night several years ago.
Rhee’s breath was coming a little faster. “Women. Oh, wow. I guess I never knew that.”
“Yeah…Charisma’s College Cam was all girl on girl. Wasn’t much into guys at that point in my life—got real turned off on dick after my first few boyfriends. Except for your Dax, honey. He’s got so much sex appeal he’d turn a nun into a nympho.”
Rhee laughed out loud and then clapped a hand over her mouth. “Okay, so you’re with one of the originals?”
“It’s me and Gray, honey. Isn’t it great?”
Gray? Oh. My. God. The man was old enough to be her grandfather!
“Uh, wow,” was all Rhee could manage to utter.
Charisma giggled, her eyes softening at the mention of the man. “It’s great, honey. Really great. He’s so sweet to me—brings me flowers, tells me I’m pretty. And he’s so gentle…”
Rhee couldn’t take much more of this. Old Gray? Really? Well…good for him. But there was no way she was interested in hearing about what he and Charisma did in the bedroom.
“Sirena’s sleeping. Would you like to see her?” she interrupted.
“Of course! I’ll be really quiet.”
Silently, Rhee ushered her into the room.
“She’s…she’s an angel. God, she has his face.”
Charisma turned and Rhee caught the hint of moisture in the other woman’s eyes before Charisma grabbed her in an affectionate embrace.
“I’m so happy for you all.”
“Thank you,” Rhee whispered.
“Dax is looking for you.” Charisma blurted. “Should have mentioned it first off, but I wanted to talk to you first.”
“Well, someone else is looking for him,” Rhee responded. “I hope she found him.”
“I hope you aren’t referring to Alanna. That girl is bad news. Up to something, just can’t figure out what it is.”
“Trish gave Alanna a bit of a beat down. I think she knows her place now.”
“Trish? Do you mean….Dax’s Trish?”
Dax’s Trish. It sounded so wrong to Rhee’s ears. “No. Just Trish,” she corrected.
The surgically stacked blond offered a knowing smile. “I feel you, honey. Now please clue a tired old gal in on what the hell is going on. Why the hell is she here?”
Rhee shrugged. “Not my story to tell.”
“Damn. You all have come back changed people. Maybe I need to take my Gray out to this island paradise of yours. He’s been itching to retire. Arthritis in his wrists. Poor man can hardly steer his bike. The warm weather would probably help.”
“It certainly seems to cure a lot of ailments,” Rhee agreed, still trying to process the idea of Gray and Charisma as a couple.
Charisma cleared her throat and began rummaging in her purse, the sounds echoing in the small bunk.
“Hey, I know this sounds weird but would it be okay if we chatted in the bathroom? I don’t want to wake her.” Rhee nodded at Sirena, who had not moved a muscle, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t rouse. Sirena, awake in the clubhouse in the middle of the night, would be a disaster.
“Or, we could sit in the hall with the door cracked? That way, we won’t miss anything exciting,” Charisma suggested.
They ended up sitting on the floor next to the door. Time passed. A lot of it. But Rhee didn’t notice the hard floor or the passage of the hours as Charisma related details about what occurred after Rhee’s departure from the clubhouse.
“He was so fucking pissed. Threatened to smash my computer and throw my video cameras into the ocean. Take me down…completely.”
Rhee shuddered. The Dax she knew was sexually aggressive and domineering but she was never afraid of him. Well, not really. The man Charisma described was a violent criminal. She listened to the porn star’s side of the story with great interest, keeping one ear cocked towards the door to listen for sounds of Sirena waking.
He was really that angry that I left. Wow. If I ever had any doubt….
Charisma pulled a small flask from her gargantuan purse and took a swig. “Yeah, honey. It was all so fucked up too, because anyone with eyes could see that you were in love with the man. Just like he was with you. So much shit happens when people feel like they can’t say what they wanna say, you know?”
Charisma took another large gulp and continued, “If I’ve learned anything, it’s that laying it all out there stings at first, like ripping off a Band-Aid. But holding it in—-hiding what you feel—that’s asking for a world of hurt that might never go away.”
Jesus. From the mouths of porn stars came…universal truths?
Rhee shook her head as if to clear it. Pearls of wisdom came from the strangest of places sometimes. Said porn star passed her flask to Rhiannon who nearly forgot about her possibly pregnant condition. She jerked her hand back a little too fast, drawing a sharp look from Charisma.
“Um, no thanks. Sirena gets up early,” Rhee said lamely, passing the small silver bottle back.
Charisma shrugged. “More for me.” Then, she replaced the flask and leaned closer.
“Now…tell me what happened when he found you again.”
***
Wince paced outside the office door. Dax had flung the door open, froze, then closed the door and locked it with an audible click. Oh, to be a fly on the wall in that room. He could hear their voices—loud at first and then muted. An hour went by.
Then…two.
It was getting late. Hopefully, Rhee and Sirena were both sound asleep. He thought about checking on them, but he also felt compelled to ensure that Dax and Trish weren’t interrupted. God only knew what had brought Dax’s ex to the clubhouse tonight—in the company of Rhee and Sirena no less. Well, stranger things had happened, he supposed.
The long wait gave Wince time to mull around some of the information he had uncovered. Rhee was always reticent when it came to talking about anyone in her family other than Mickey. All she would say was that her parents were dead, and that she had no other relations.
It was easy to confirm her story—something he should have done a long time ago. Wince found her biological father’s obituary. He researched Michael Blake. Seemed like a real stand-up kind of guy. Worked for the paper as a journalist. Died young, from cancer.
Michael’s obituary wasn’t the only incident regarding the family that made the paper. The death of Susanna Blake and her second husband Paul, stepfather to Mickey and Rhee, was detailed on the front page of the Chronicle. It was a terrible crash—the photo depicting the twisted, charred metal was gruesome. Wince wanted to kick himself for failing to follow up on Rhee’s family. Susanna and Michael Blake were in the ground, and he could only imagine how their deaths had traumatized their daughters.
The stepfather—now that was where things got interesting. Rhee never mentioned the man. The one time the subject of stepfathers came up, Rhee went pale and left the room. Dax took Wince aside and warned him in no uncertain terms, never to bring up stepfathers again around her again. Wince assumed the guy was a jerk and he followed the order, but he didn’t put much thought into it.
He never figured Rhee’s stepdad for a crook.
Paul Malone had a record and it was easy for Wince to access it. At first, he found some small time shit: larceny, petty theft, soliciting. It wasn’t as bad as he had thought, but it spoke to the man’s character. Plus, it was enough to keep digging. So he dug. Most guys who had a string of arrests like this guy didn’t show up out of nowhere. When he found the man’s sealed juvie files, Wince’s inner alarm bells began to buzz. The encryption was so easy to crack, he almost felt bad for the department.
Almost.
He was expecting petty theft or larceny. What he found made his guts churn because of the implications.
Lewd acts on a child under the age of fourteen.
Rape.
Forcible sodomy.
The records were sealed because Malone was underage at the time of his offenses. He had done his time in a juvenile facility for sex offenders. According to his discharge report, Malone was considered rehabilitated after one year and they released him when he turned eighteen.
What was Malone like as an adult if he was already a monster before he hit his teens? What had he done to Rhee? To Mickey?
Maybe that’s why she won’t talk about him. Maybe that’s why she left. Mickey, too.
His analyst brain struggled to process all of the pieces of the current puzzle and fit them into some kind of sensible arrangement.
Susanna and Paul were killed in a horrible car crash. Good riddance to Paul. Bad news for Susanna and the girls.
Mickey took off and hooked up with some cat named Dizzy, who rode with one of the smaller crews—the Devils.
Mickey stuck her nose where it didn’t belong and took off again. Or maybe…the Devils kicked her loose after she took that picture.
The Devils’ compound is shot up. Dizzy bites the dust. Probably retaliation but no idea who did the hit.
For a while, it looks like kid sister is in Witsec, but so far, nothing’s panned out. Carter said to stay out of it.
The biggest loose end is the stepfather—but he’s deader than dirt.
What else was Malone into before he went to ground? Who did he know?
Well, at least he was narrowing things down. Paul Malone was the one he would focus on now. Wince sighed as he regarded the locked office door. Dax had enough on his plate. It occurred to Wince that maybe digging up all of this shit wasn’t necessarily a good idea. It might lead to Mickey but then again…it might not. Best to keep Dax in the dark until he had some solid leads.
Wince scanned the main room of the clubhouse. The bar was full of drunk groupies. A couple of grunts were shooting some pool. The music was bumping and the drinks were flowing outside in the yard, but all in all, things inside were pretty tame, so he felt comfortable ditching his post for a few minutes.
I’ll take a little stroll down the hall…make sure Rhee’s still locked up tight.
Wince didn’t expect to find Charisma and Rhee having an earnest little discussion on the hall floor. He took a step closer and saw that Rhee was crying.
