Sanctum: A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel

by Valentine, Sienna

  “Yep. You have twenty minutes, don’t be late,” he said as he flicked the cigarette past her out into the drive. Then he turned back for the clubhouse without another word. He returned to the bedroom and took a short shower himself, trying to ignore the sound of the shower running in Maggie’s room, just on the other side of the wall. He was determined to focus today. He wasn’t going to let that nightmare delusion of Maggie’s death become real.

  Jase was waiting when she finally emerged. The jeans looked the same, but she had found a more cheerful green shirt to replace the gray one she had been wearing since she arrived. The dampness in her curls somehow didn’t affect their charm. Jase hadn’t noticed it before, but there was something different about Maggie that he suddenly became aware of—something in her eyes, on the edges of her face. Maybe it was just stress, but it seemed to him signs of her growing up. Those strange scars that only existed as ghosts, floating around people, not to be seen or touched, never to really be chased away; the same type of invisible scars he knew he carried.

  She had already come to stand next to him when he realized he was staring. He turned suddenly to his coffee cup and finished it in one uncomfortable swallow. “So what’s this date?” she said. Her voice was still mostly bitterness.

  “You’re learning how to shoot,” said Jase as he stood up. “Rudy’s is open for another hour, and I guarantee I can get him to give us an extra two.”

  “Your solution, after we’ve just survived a hail of bullets, is to go shoot more bullets?”

  “Do you know why people get messed up by trauma?” said Jase, hovering over her. “Because trauma makes you feel powerless. That makes you scared to act, which only makes you feel more powerless. The best thing to do is get right back up and start swinging. Learn how to win the next one.”

  Surprisingly, Maggie’s face seemed to light up at his explanation. “Alright. I’m in.”

  “It wasn’t an option.”

  She gave him an unenthusiastic flip of her middle finger and headed out to the parking lot. When he followed, he found her waiting by her SUV. He hollered her name and waved his hands for her to follow him to his bike. She hesitated a moment before she joined him.

  Jase straddled his bike and got comfortable. He held a helmet out to her. “We’re much harder to tail this way.”

  Maggie gave a look to the back seat of the bike. Jase couldn’t help but get a little satisfaction from the anger brewing under her skin. Her pouty lips twisted up as she tried to think her way out of her discomfort. But she finally gave up and ripped the helmet from his hands and latched it on her head. She climbed onto the seat behind him and wiggled her hips until she was settled against him tightly. He felt her arms wrap around his chest. It had been so many years since he had felt her at his back, but she still fit there as if she had been molded for it.

  Sliding his protective glasses up against his eyes and starting his bike, Jase worried for a moment that she was going to feel his heart racing underneath her palms. But when Maggie’s chest pressed firmly against his back, his mind became more pre-occupied with why her heart was doing the same.

  ~ TEN ~

  Jase was indeed able to convince the manager at Rudy’s Range to give them extra time to practice—for a couple hundred dollars, which Jase slipped him as he was walking up to announce closing time.

  At first, Maggie had struggled with the 9mm and he tried to keep her from getting frustrated and quitting. Once the place was empty, it seemed to relax her, and the second hour’s target practice was much improved. Mostly he watched her and stayed out of the way, popping up every now and then to gently adjust her form. Her resistance to his instruction got better as the night went on, too. She always used to tell him that bike rides made her calm, and the ride over had certainly seemed to make her amiable.

  During the last half-hour of their time, Jase made her put away the 9mm. He rented a shotgun similar to the one of Henry’s that Maggie had left by her bedside. She loved the feel of the little Bersa in her hands, but her eyes widened a bit at the huge rifle as he handed it to her. “I heard I can break my own shoulder if I fuck this up,” she said.

  “You’re not gonna fuck this up,” he said with a laugh. “Just relax.” He took a few seconds to crack the barrel and instruct her on its reload. “Put the butt up to your shoulder.”

  Maggie made a little noise when she lifted it, surprised by the weight. She shifted around to get it settled. Jase came around from behind her and nestled the shotgun butt into her shoulder with one hand. The other arm reached around and helped her hold the barrel steady.

  Jase realized he was more or less wrapped around Maggie as he had been by her on the bike. Her warmth radiated into his chest and arms. The little voice that was normally supposed to be on top of situations like this was suspiciously silent.

  Jase leaned down with his face next to hers. He could smell her shampoo and body wash, and that scent beneath that was purely her own. He said softly, “Lean into it. Got it? It won’t kick as bad as you’re imagining.” He began to move his hand off the barrel to see if she had the weight balanced.

  “Yeah,” she said back, almost a whisper. He could see her eyes flitting around, uncomfortable. Her breath came in shorter reps.

  Jase cleared his throat and unwrapped himself from around her and backed away. He put Maggie’s ear protectors back down so she didn’t have to move, then replaced his own and gave her the go-ahead tap on the shoulder. Maggie hesitated a few seconds, and then the shotgun blasted. The paper target hanging just a few feet away nearly shredded in half as the air filled with the acrid burning of the shells.

  Maggie laughed as she lowered the rifle and pulled her earmuffs off. “Oh, let’s definitely do that again.”

  Jase laughed at her and handed her two more shells for her to reload. Maggie kept going until the gun felt too heavy to safely practice with; her arms just weren’t used to the work of absorbing the firearm’s energy yet. They left Rudy’s with a few minutes on their clock to spare, and both immediately decided they were in no mood to return to the clubhouse, or to sleep.

  “We should go to the ridge,” said Maggie after a few minutes of brainstorming. “You could teach me how to throw a punch.”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” said Jase, though he only meant the second part. The ridge wasn’t just any hang out; that was his and Maggie’s place. He had actually made himself stop visiting alone, because he always felt like shit afterward.

  Already, he could feel their connection slipping back into old territory, into habitual comfort. Ever since he drove away from the clubhouse with Maggie against his back, the night had felt just like the old nights, when she was his. The smart thing would be to do some self-defense training at the clubhouse, he knew. At least somewhere people would be around, and he wouldn’t be put in a position where he might do something else that made him sorry.

  But Maggie was already on the bike, helmet on. She waited and watched him. And the feeling of seeing her there was far stronger than any warning bells going off in his mind. He climbed on and smiled to himself as she wrapped against him again.

  After a quick stop to grab some beers, they rumbled up the dark and winding trail through the low hills towards the ridge. It wasn’t a far stop from the town, but the curve of the path made it longer, cutting through the high desert forests and up into the cooler mountain air. The ridge itself was little more than a half-moon of clear space that looked out over the sparkling lights of both LeBeau and Howlett, with a dark swath of country farmland set between them. Jase pulled his rumbling bike into the vacant space. He killed the engine and waited until Maggie hopped off.

  He let them both get a beer in before adjusting the headlamp of his bike to give them a little bit of light to work with. Maggie had a mischievous smile and began to hop around a little on her toes.

  “Okay now, here’s the thing,” said Jase as he rolled his shoulders. “You and I have very different body types, so the same fighting style isn
’t going to work for both of us.”

  “Did you have to learn, like, the jerk style of fighting?” said Maggie with a scoff and a smile.

  “Aha, see, you thought you were gonna hurt my feelings,” said Jase, raising a finger. “You could have asked if I learned the ugly style of fighting. But you didn’t-- you went with jerk. Probably because you don’t think I’m ugly. So I win.”

  Maggie made a hissing noise and rolled her eyes in exaggerated fashion. “If you’re trying to get me excited to punch you in the face, mission accomplished.”

  Jase grinned at her and took off his cut. He laid it carefully over the seat of his bike. “I’m a big guy. I don’t really have to have much style when I fight.”

  “Must be nice,” said Maggie, raising her dukes at him.

  “Not gonna lie, it’s pretty sweet.”

  “So for us non-giants…”

  “You have to learn how to use your weight and your attacker’s weight against him. You have to be a lot more tactical when you fight, and focus on weaknesses instead of big hits,” said Jase. “Now, turn around.”

  “What?” she said.

  “Spin around,” he twirled his finger. “As a female, you’re much more likely to be attacked from behind.”

  “And here I thought men were the braver of the species,” she muttered. Jase laughed at her as she sarcastically turned her back to him and waited. “I don’t like this, this is creepy.”

  “It should be creepy,” said Jase. “Someone coming at you from behind is dangerous as hell. Trust creepy instincts because they’ll probably give you a few extra seconds.”

  Jase approached. He hesitated a moment before he wrapped an arm around the top of Maggie’s chest. She tensed up against him, and he could feel her heart beating a little faster. He put his other hand loosely on the top of her brown curls.

  “If someone comes at you from behind like this, you want to try and upset their balance. Don’t think about fighting them. They’re probably bigger than you, or armed. Just think about escaping,” said Jase next to her ear. He thought he felt her shiver. He took her left elbow in his hand and directed it slowly back to his solar plexus. “Feel that? You need to elbow that spot as hard as you can. That’ll put anyone’s dick in the dirt.”

  Maggie giggled underneath him. She grasped his arm around her neck with her right and mimicked the elbow move a few times for him.

  “Then, put your leg outside mine, like this.” He put his left hand on her left thigh and gently pushed until Maggie lifted it into position, on the outside of his stance. The arm around her neck that had been grasping was now little more than a draped nuisance.

  “Now,” said Jase. “Grab my pants right by my crotch.”

  Maggie’s reaction didn’t disappoint. Her face twisted in disbelief. “What the hell, man? What kind of self-defense is this?”

  Jase couldn’t help laughing while he said, “I’m serious! This is completely legit, one-hundred-percent. I swear.”

  “Is this how you’re picking up women now?” said Maggie, shaking her head and muttering sarcastically to herself. She couldn’t look at him, but her face lit up with a huge grin and flushed red as she followed his instructions. She took a nice handful of denim on his inner thigh dangerously close to trouble, and then looked up at him with smirk as if to say your move.

  Jase cleared his throat, the timing of which made Maggie start to laugh. He said in his best authoritative voice, “C’mon, Oliver, sack up here, this is serious business.”

  “Sir, yes sir,” she said without even a breath to break up her laughter.

  Jase shook his head, but he couldn’t fight his own smile as he decided to press forward. “Alright. So you’ve delivered the elbow of doom. You’re outside his stance. Take a hold of his pants like that, and then twist, and shift your whole body weight towards him.”

  Maggie hesitated at first, skeptical. Then Jase felt the grip on his jeans tighten as she moved into him. As planned, the shift of balance coupled with her grip on his pants sent his center of gravity off-kilter. Half of him lifted over her leg as he tumbled to the gravel with a thunk.

  “What!” said Maggie in an excited voice. Both her hands shot into the air. “I can’t believe that worked!”

  “I told you,” said Jase as he dusted off his thigh where he’d landed. He reached out a hand and Maggie didn’t hesitate to help pull him up. “It’s not going to kill the guy, but it gives you time to get loose and get help.”

  “I can’t believe I know how to throw you around now,” said Maggie with a laugh as she cracked them both another beer.

  “Only if I attack you from behind,” said Jase, and immediately regretted the way it sounded. But Maggie only laughed. He cleared his throat. “Put that damn beer down, you need to practice this move.”

  “Jesus, okay Bruce Lee!” she carefully nudged the open beer bottles next to a large rock and jumped around to loosen her body up. “Never seen someone who wants to get thrown in the dirt so badly.”

  “Want has nothing to do with it,” said Jase with a low chuckle—though his heart wasn’t quite in agreement with that as he wrapped himself around Maggie in the attacker’s stance once again.

  Jase made Maggie practice the rear attack a few more times before they moved on to a few other scenarios. They practiced until she started to get muscle pains, some of which were from her laughing her ass off at being able to toss him around. And he knew both of them needed the sweet release of something funny and physical like this after the horror of the day. Maggie seemed all too happy to lean into it, and having her relaxed, playful, acting like herself at her best, made Jase happy in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

  When they finally quit, Maggie handed him one of the open beers and drank some of her own in between ragged breaths. “I basically feel like Rambo tonight.”

  “I don’t think you’re remembering those movies correctly,” said Jase.

  Maggie glared at him from behind the beer bottle mid-drink. Jase just laughed at her and shook his head. He leaned over the bike and flipped off the headlight, letting the night air and the moon’s light sink into the space between them.

  “You always acted like Rambo, anyway,” said Jase as he moved towards the edge of the ridge to take in the view. He heard Maggie’s footsteps following in the gravel behind. “Now you’ve just got some moves to go with it.”

  “Yeah, well, the way we act sometimes isn’t the way we feel,” said Maggie.

  “Still, I was… surprised… to hear about your ex,” said Jase. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

  Maggie nodded very lightly but said nothing. She stared into the distance.

  Jase said, “Honestly, though. Why’d you let that happen to you?”

  She took a drink and frowned. “Let what?”

  “Let some guy beat you. I never thought you’d put up with that,” he said.

  A bit of anger flashed through her eyes and he thought he’d lost the moment, but she just clenched her jaw and took another drink. She looked out at the night sky. “It’s trickier than it seems, Jase. I mean, look at where we are. I’m learning how to shoot and take down giant men with my bare hands just to get away from a guy. Does that sound like a simple situation to you?”

  Jase felt regret immediately stab at his heart. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I shouldn’t have…” He looked down at the bottle in his hands. “People used to ask my mom the same damn thing. Even then I knew it was a shitty question. They didn’t see how hard she fought, all the maneuvering just to keep ahead of him.”

  The anger fell from Maggie’s face. She nodded, but was clearly struggling to look at him. “Thanks. And trust me, I’ve asked myself that same damn question for a while now. I’ll give you the answer if I ever figure it out.”

  Jase went quiet for a minute, drank a bit of his beer down. He was trying to collect some courage. “You’re stronger than you think. You always have been. Even after all of this, do
n’t go around thinking you’re weak, because you’re not.” He went straight for the beer after he was finished, and only got the gumption to turn and look at her when he realized that she was staring at him openly.

  In the low moonlight, he saw on her face an expression he didn’t have a name for. She was hurt. She was grateful. She was curious. He looked at her eyes and she held his gaze for a moment. It was painful in some deep part of his heart. She said, “Thank you, Jase. Really. Thank you.” She turned away, her eyes getting wet. She drank her beer.

  They didn’t say much else as they passed an hour on the ridge. They wiped off the six pack and shared cigarettes between them until Maggie finally said she was ready to leave. The mood had changed—the playfulness had certainly died-- but it wasn’t all bad. Jase only felt something big building as Maggie climbed behind him on the bike and wrapped around him. Her touch was softer, and somehow more encompassing. He could feel her cheek, and the edge of her helmet, lying gently against his back along with the rest of her. He almost didn’t want to start up the bike, knowing it led to the inevitable end of this moment.