by Brook Wilder
“You know, I’m perfectly capable of driving myself over to the clubhouse. It’s not like I forgot where it was or anything.” I stood over him with my hands on my hips.
“Hey, that’s something for you to take up with your dad. All I’m doing is what he told me to do.” I looked up at me with pleading eyes, as if trying to tell me to chill out and back off.
“Sorry. I can come on kinda strong, I guess.”
“Kinda? You’re in full-on bitch mode right now.”
He grabbed the broken down boxes and walked them outside while I stood staring after him with my eyebrows raised. I laughed to myself and shook my head after he walked through the front door again. I assumed my father knew what he was doing after all, sending someone like Carson to pick me up, someone who wasn’t afraid to try to put me in my place.
“Sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me,” he apologized as he came back up to the door. His voice didn’t sound all that sincere, but I was going to pretend he wasn’t being a smartass.
“No need for all that. I earned it. So, what’s the deal?” I caught myself standing with my hands on my hips again and dropped them. Then, I nervously crossed my arms in front of my chest, and realizing I wasn’t helping matters in the least, I put them back at my side again, trying to stand as relaxed as possible.
“Well, your dad asked me to stop by to see if you needed any help and then to take you up to the clubhouse myself so he can see you,” Carson explained. He was a nice enough guy when he didn’t have someone trying to get under his skin.
“I mean, he could come by here himself, you know? You didn’t have to come.” In reality, I was thinking he could have at least sent someone else, like Dax, the MC’s vice-president. Sending anyone else was almost an insult. Then again, Dax could have been busy; after all, hadn’t he been engaged the last time I saw him? He probably had an old lady by now, leaving him no room for me.
Carson held up his hands in surrender. “Again, all I’m doing is following orders. So, you about ready?”
“Yeah, let me lock up and I’ll be ready to go.”
As I stepped outside to join Carson in front of the condo, I noticed he’d brought a car, not his motorcycle. Thank God! I wasn’t looking forward to having to climb on the back of someone’s bike. Part of the reason I’d taken a job out of state initially was because I didn’t want anything to do with the whole MC scene. I didn’t have much use for bikers as a general rule because of what I saw when I was growing up. It was the kind of lifestyle I looked at and wondered how anyone could find it appealing enough to sign up for it.
“So, what’s with all the formalities?” I asked again as I got into his car. “It’s only the Carolina Devils. He’s acting like a mob boss sending a car to pick me up and everything, hiding out at the clubhouse like he’s some big shot Italian hiding out in the back of a diner or pizza joint.”
“Funny you should say that.” Carson checked the rearview mirror as we pulled away, as if he were checking to see if we’d been followed.
“You’re kidding, right? He’s not actually mixed up in some mafia business is he?” Because I will tell you to turn this car around and drop me off at home, I added in my head, starting to think that maybe I’d made a mistake by coming back.
“No, but there is a reason for all the security precautions he’s taking right now. There’s been a lot of trouble with the Wild Kids here recently.”
“There’s always been trouble with the Wild Kids.” I groaned and looked out past the window as we drove toward the clubhouse on the outskirts of town.
I allowed myself to be distracted for a moment by the beauty of Charleston and the surrounding area. I was back in South Carolina – the thought hit me like a revelation. There wasn’t another place like it, I was convinced.
Even in the bustling center of downtown Charleston, that typical Southern relaxed pace of life could be felt, though I knew it wasn’t the same for people who lived here. They felt that the city was too rushed, too busy. They looked to the swampy marshes and all the little backwoods towns that dotted the landscape beyond Charleston as examples of that laid back lifestyle everyone always thought of as being particularly Southern.
After being gone for so long, I realized how different my hometown was from nearly every other place I’d been. I was hit with a wave of nostalgia for a simpler time, a simpler life. I found myself wanting that deep Southern porch with the rocking chairs on it and a person to share it with, to sit back and watch the occasional car or motorcycle pass by while we drank iced tea and watched the shadows lengthen.
Such was the magic of this place, of every town in the South. They drew visitors in and refused to let go of those people born and raised there. I should have been excited to be home, but being home meant having to deal with riding in the car next to my father’s treasurer, who would have been more comfortable with me riding in the backseat. It meant being around the MC.
“Since you’ve been gone, things have gotten worse.” Carson’s voice broke through my musings and brought me back into the car.
“No offense, but that’s not really what I want to hear right now,” I told him.
“I know, but your dad wants me to bring you in this way, and he’s going to be assigning Dax to watch over you, to escort you to and from work.”
“You’re kidding me.”
I had known a run-in with Dax was inevitable, but I had hoped to prepare myself for it. At least a little bit. The butterflies in my stomach, who’d already been pretty active since I got back in town, were fluttering around in a panic now. I was really starting to think I shouldn’t have come back.
“What do you mean? You two go way back, don’t you?” He cut his eyes over and gave me a sidelong glance. I had to get used to that question; something told me I was going to be hearing it a lot.
“I don’t need a babysitter. I’m not even in town twenty-four hours and he’s already treating me like a kid again.”
“I don’t think you understand how serious it is, Fawn. Your dad has put a lot of thought into this decision, even going so far as to make sure he’s putting the right person with you.” Carson’s tone changed then. Up to that point, he’d been careful with me, not wanting to upset me, even when he’d called me a bitch earlier. But when he took my father’s side, he sounded more like an uncle or something. I felt scolded.
Carson was one of the older members of the MC. All of those guys looked at me like I was their own daughter. They’d all had a hand in raising me, whether I liked it or not, so it wasn’t that out of place for them to step in from time to time with some kind of discipline. And, of course, my father was always right, as far as they were concerned.
“Look, we’re all proud of you for what you’ve done. You went out and got your education, found a good job, and stayed away from the MC. You don’t have to live the life we’ve all chosen, and I think that’s what your dad wants most for you – for you not to have to rely on the Devils for your livelihood or protection. But the fact is, you’re home now. You’re back on Carolina Devils turf, and that turf has been disputed for a long time.”
“Spare me the lecture, Carson. I get it. Whether I want to be part of the MC or not, my father’s the president, and he has been since forever, so I’m stuck dealing with it while I’m here. Right?”
“You got it, and hey, at least he’s not sticking you with some random new kid. He’s putting you with someone you already know and someone he knows he can trust to take care of you.”
“Right.” I sighed and looked out the window. I knew my answer probably made it sound like I was conceding, giving up the argument, but that wasn’t it.
I supposed I should have been grateful for having Dax assigned to me, as opposed to anyone else in the MC, like Carson said, but the emotions that were already stirring at the prospect of seeing him made it hard to feel any sort of gratitude. It wasn’t even really about being babysat by the MC; I appreciated my father’s concern for my safety. (After a
ll, I had grown up surrounded by the MC, so I could appreciate his point of view as far as the threat of rival clubs went.) It was Dax. Dax was the problem.
I had come home to Charleston because it was the best job I had found. Kicking around the same few city blocks where I’d lived for most of the last decade was becoming unbearable. Sure, it had been three years since my fiancé had walked out on me while I was away for the weekend, but things had only grown harder for me, not easier. Time made the weight of our history that much harder to bear.
I had escaped that history – the memories of the places we’d gone, the moment I knew I was in love, the spot where he’d proposed to me, and every single reminder of the times we’d shared – only to find myself in a place with even more history for me. My history with Charleston had been waiting for me to arrive, and it was already starting to taunt me. I couldn’t have stayed where I was, but I shouldn’t have come back either.
Dax and I hadn’t done anything. We never dated. I had a strict rule against dating bikers, though I might have broken it for him. But only for him. There were some old, unresolved feelings there, however, and they probably did stem from the fact that we hadn’t dated. I’d watched him date other women. He’d even taken a pretty serious girlfriend before I left, which prevented me from trying to convince him to leave with me.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” Carson said, interrupting my thoughts again. I took a quick breath, trying to get myself together. “You won’t have anything to worry about.”
“So, what all has happened?”
“You should probably talk to your dad about that.”
I had known better than to ask. The only two people who might have told me what was going on that was so serious were Dax and my father. If it was serious enough, I knew I couldn’t count on them to be completely open either.
We pulled up to the clubhouse and parked out front. I stared at the old brick building. It used to be a warehouse of some sort, but the MC had bought it and saved it from falling in on itself like so many other old buildings on the outskirts of town had done. It still looked its age – old as dirt – but it was in pretty good shape. I didn’t see anyone hanging around outside, and I could remember people swarming the place when I was younger.
“Before we go in, let me ask you something, Carson.”
“Anything.”
“There’s not going to be some big party waiting for me when we walk in, is there?”
“No. He told everyone to keep your arrival quiet. You know there will be a few of us who stop by the welcome you back, but everyone’s been told to act like you’re not even there.”
I nodded.
“He’s looking out for you, kid. Now, come on. Let’s go inside. And remember, he’s only assigning Dax to watch over you as a matter of business. I don’t know if they’ll tell you everything that’s been going on, but all you need to know is it’s bad enough we don’t want you running around Charleston by yourself right now.”
“You know, that probably shouldn’t be reassuring, but it is. Thanks.” I laughed as I opened the car door and stepped out.
The old brick building loomed over me, three stories tall with arched windows and a large open garage door where shipments were once loaded and unloaded. As the clubhouse, that bay door served as the main entrance. And I knew that once I walked through, I would be immersed in the history that had only teased me so far.
CHAPTER THREE
Dax
“I guess you want a hug too?” Fawn turned to me after hugging several of the senior members as they left the meeting room in the clubhouse office.
Her return wasn’t supposed to be anything big, but for the old-timers, who took the family vibe of the MC very seriously, there wasn’t much chance of it not being a big deal to have the president’s daughter – hell, the MC’s daughter – back home. They had piled in behind us as we moved into the room to discuss the details of how I was going to be responsible for her safety. One of the senior members, Coy, had even announced that he was firing up the grill that afternoon so we could have a big Carolina Devils dinner in honor of Fawn.
I had expected her to lose her shit as I stood behind her at the large table where the senior members sat – she sat in my chair, next to her father – but she remained cool. I could see her back and shoulders tensing up through her thin t-shirt, but then again, I’d been close enough to her before that I could still read all of her signs. However, the girl I had known way back when had become a woman who had some control over her emotions and apparently more over her tongue.
“I mean, whatever. We don’t have to hug.” I held up my hands and took a step back, pretending to give her some space.
“You jerk. Is that how you greet me? After all this time?” She nailed me in the shoulder. For as beautiful and feminine as her body looked, she definitely wasn’t weak. She’d been raised by the MC, and her punch showed it. She hit just like one of the guys.
I laughed at the punch and took my old friend in my arms. She put her arms around me and rested her head on my shoulder as I squeezed her. It felt good to have her next to me, like someone had finally found a way to soothe the internal wounds I’d been collecting over the years.
“I’m glad you’re home,” I whispered in her ear while I held her in my arms.
“Me too.”
It was the first time we’d spoken since she walked into the clubhouse. Dan had rushed us all into the meeting room after hugging his daughter, before anyone else had a chance to say anything. He briefed her on my assignment to guard her. I was to escort her to and from work every day and to keep an eye on her when she wasn’t at work. While I stood behind her, watching her reaction and listening to her voice, I couldn’t imagine why I had dreaded the assignment. I was basically being given a pass to spend all, or at least most, of my time with my best friend and childhood crush. What was there not to like about that?
“I don’t need a babysitter, dad,” Fawn had argued, and I saw by the look on Carson’s face that she’d gone on about it to him in the car.
“He’s not babysitting you, dear. I know you’re perfectly capable of handling yourself. Think of him more as a bodyguard. The Wild Kids have grown bolder and more brazen over the last couple of years. You are a prime target for them. I’m not going to give them the opportunity to get to you, and I trust no one with your well-being as much as I trust Dax.”
A smirk had played across my face, and I puffed my chest out with pride when I heard the compliment. It was an involuntary reaction, and one I didn’t bother correcting. I was her protector, and I was the best one for the job. I was glad someone else recognized that.
My work began as we left the meeting room. Everyone poured back into the main room, where members returned to their games of pool, their drinks from behind the bar, the TV, and whatever else they’d been doing – there were a few who were always working on their bikes, many of which had seen as many miles as the old-timers who rode them. I stuck next to Fawn.
“I’m leaving you with Dax. I’m sure you two have a lot of catching up to do,” Dan told his daughter. Then, looking at me over her shoulder, he added, “Micah and I are going to hang back in the office and hash out a plan for dealing with the Wild Kids.”
I nodded, but my second biggest concern of being assigned as Fawn’s babysitter was being realized – who was going to handle my position while I was watching over the president’s daughter? At least it was Micah, I told myself. He would have been my second pick for VP, after myself of course.
“You look like you need a drink.” I put a hand on my friend’s back as my president walked off with our sergeant-in-arms. Her muscles here rock solid with tension and stress. She needed more than a single drink to loosen that up, I thought.
“Yes, please.” She exhaled, and I felt her body slump into a more natural posture. The tough-as-nails exterior she’d worn into the clubhouse started to slip away, and I found myself standing next to the Fawn I remembered.
; She’d walked into the clubhouse with a stiff, straight back, her features seeming harder and more commanding than I had remembered. I’d rationalized the difference in her look as the effect of eight long years. Her soft, youthful features had tightened up and matured. It was as if her ambition had become more present in her appearance. She still had all the right curves in all the right places, but they were more prominent, tighter, perkier. But there had been a look in her eyes, a hard look intended to make it obvious she wasn’t thrilled about being back among the Devils.
That look melted away as we took up residence on a couple of barstools and I reached across to grab a couple of cold ones from the coolers behind the bar. I popped them open and handed her one. We clinked our bottles together and took our first sip before either of us said anything else.
