Knight_A Steel Paragons MC Novel

by Eve R. Hart

  His face was stern as he stalked—yes, stalked—toward me. I swallowed and didn’t dare even blink. I felt the pull to him and I wondered if I was the only one. But then there was a flash in his eyes that was dark and full of heat and I knew I wasn’t alone in this feeling. However, it didn’t last longer than a second before he pushed it away with a blink of his lids.

  “Hey,” he whispered harshly like he was having trouble getting the word out. He stopped right in front of me, our toes almost touching. So close that our breaths mingled, and his heavy leather and musk scent filled my nose and made my head dizzy.

  “Hi,” I said back just as harsh as he had because my throat was suddenly as dry as a desert.

  “I got you olives,” he said and his lips twitched with the flicker of a smile.

  “And onions?” I asked with a hopeful tone that he had remembered.

  “Of course.”

  I melted inside. As much as he made me feel like he’d forgotten everything about me, this one simple thing was proof that he hadn’t. The smile that overtook my mouth was huge. There was no way I could hold back the elation I was feeling right then. And as his eyes dropped to look at my lips, I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell he was thinking at that moment. But I knew he’d never tell me. He wouldn’t even give any sort of indication. Or maybe it was simply that he wasn’t thinking anything. For all I knew, I was being a pathetically hopeful girl.

  “Yeah,” he said with a tiny shake of his head. “Want me to make yours?”

  “Please. Thanks.” I said with a little nod. I knew that he would make them just the way I wanted them.

  “Alright.” He took a step back and it seemed like he had to force himself to turn around and walk back into the kitchen.

  I let out a rush of air once he was far enough away that his scent wasn’t so powerful in my nose. I self-consciously looked around to see if anyone else had witnessed the tense encounter, and sure enough, there was Mouse looking at me through the open space of the kitchen. He winked at me, a knowing smirk plastered on his face.

  I chose to be the bigger person and not flip him off. Though I was really itching to do just that. Instead, I shook off my dizzying feelings and moved to clean off the coffee table.

  Not long after that, we were all seated around the living room with plates of custom nachos in front of our faces. Tara sat next to me but I could tell that she was relaxing a little. She actually interjected herself into a few of the conversations, which was good.

  Things were light for the most part and I could tell that the guys were avoiding bringing up pretty much anything about the club. Not that I didn’t think Tara picked up on the fact that every single one of them was wearing their Steel Paragons cut.

  “So, how’s work Sketch? Do any crazy tats lately?” I asked.

  He usually had at least one new interesting story to tell. It seemed that the shop brought in some people with strange requests. I knew that Sketch was professional and so he would do his best with each one. I’d seen some of his work and it was amazing. Some of it even seemed so lifelike that I thought it was going to jump right off the person’s skin.

  Sketch was known for his realistic ink. Brand was the one you went to for the classic, sailor style and anything that had to do with script. He was also good with the use of colors, especially bright ones. His work was also amazing. And Blade was good at, well, so far Sketch had only shown me three that Blade had done. It seemed that they liked to give him the butterfly tattoos. Sketch told me that he and Brand flat out refused to do butterflies and dragonflies. And that they didn’t want to deal with the ‘trendy, dumb as fuck sorority bitches.’ Sketch’s words, not mine. All I could do was shake my head at the guy. He was always asking me when I was coming down so he could ‘do something’ on me and I had contemplated more than once on telling him he could ink me but only if it was a butterfly. One day I would actually make that joke. It wasn’t like I really wanted a stupid butterfly on me, no way in hell. I wasn’t a butterfly kinda girl, at all.

  “Oh shit!” Sketch said surprisingly as he dropped his half-eaten plate on the coffee table. I knew whatever story he was about to tell was going to be great. He had the attention of the entire room as he started.

  “So, this bitch.” He paused and looked at Tara with a half-apologetic grimace. I wanted to laugh but I held it back. I was used to the language and terms, it wasn’t like the guys really meant them they way they sounded. But Tara was new here and I could appreciate his awareness and respect. “I mean this girl came in and had some sob story about how her boyfriend of five years cheated on her, right? Well, she rambled on like crazy about it and I did my best to half listen to that shit. Since I was the only one in the shop at the time, I couldn’t even hand her off to Blade.”

  He paused and took a swig of his beer.

  “I was expecting her to tell me she wanted some like woman power tattoo, ya know? But no. After her story, she looked at me and says ‘I want her name tattooed on my lower back so that every time he fucks me from behind he sees his betrayal.’ I was so shocked I didn’t even know what the fuck to say.”

  “That sounds like bullshit,” Mouse said as he tossed his beer cap at Sketch.

  “No, dude, I can’t make this shit up,” he said and his eyes got really big. “I had two choices. Give her what she wanted or try to talk her out of the really bad idea. One I knew she’d later regret. But then I thought to myself that if she’s still with the guy, then maybe she deserved the bad ink.”

  “Did you do it?” I asked with a huge trace of shock in my tone.

  “Well I wasn’t going to, but then she said she’d suck my—” He cut himself off and his eyes fluttered over to Tara for a second. She seemed to be really into the story and I wondered what she was thinking about the whole thing. “She said she’d give me a really good tip.”

  “That was a really bad cover, man,” Knight mumbled from across the room. I held his eyes as a big laugh slipped from my throat.

  Tara seemed to catch on as she looked around the room. Although, Knight had been completely right, Sketch’s attempt at covering the truth of what he was going to say was horrible. Then the next words out of her mouth shocked the shit out of me, and by the way the room went silent for a whole minute, I wasn’t the only one.

  “So you did it? Did she really suck you off?” Tara asked like she couldn’t quite believe it.

  Mouse choked on his beer. Everyone else seemed to be stuck in a frozen state, me included.

  “Well, yeah.” Sketch said after a pause of recovery. “Who would turn down a free blowjob, really?” He gave his shoulders a quick shrug and tried to hide his smile behind his swig of beer.

  To me, Tara seemed like the quiet, reserved type. We hadn’t talked about anything over the line of basic things, really. We hadn’t even gone anywhere near any kind of topic involving sex. Which I was totally alright with. I mean, she was fun and easy to talk to, but she also had this almost innocent and naïve quality to her. Then again, maybe I just didn’t know her well enough yet.

  “Was it any good?” she asked, her body leaning a little closer to Sketch’s as she waited for his answer.

  “The blowjob or the tattoo?” he asked with a chuckle. He knew what she meant but he was just goading her.

  “The blowjob?” Tara asked.

  “I mean, it was alright. Got the job done.”

  The room erupted with laughter and I reached behind me and grabbed the pillow I’d brought out earlier to help prop up my book on my lap. I tossed it as his head but his reflex were quick and he deflected with ease.

  The next couple of hours seemed to fly by with all of us swapping fun stories. Tara even told a few, though it seemed that her life had been a little tamer than most of ours. But no one made fun of her and all of them seemed to listen when she talked. I could tell that she was warming up to Knight. As the night went on she spared him more glances and actually looked at him when he was speaking. Though his eyes were usually
on me. I didn’t miss that and I was sure that no one else did either. But I didn’t care. I’d take as much of Knight as I could get. And the fact that his guard was slipping while there were people around made me smile and do a happy dance internally.

  It got late, and though I seemed to be the only one having trouble keeping my eyes open, I had to say goodnight and usher Tara out as gracefully as possible. Luckily, she got the hint quick enough and told everyone bye without lingering. Sketch offered to walk her out and I was grateful because I wasn’t even sure I would be able to make it to my bed. I had an idea that the three beers I’d consumed weren’t helping my sleepy state either. I wasn’t a big drinker, so they hit me pretty hard. I told the guys to carry on and not worry about keeping it down, knowing I was going to be out like a light once my head hit the pillow. And sure enough, not even five minutes later, I was passed out.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Knight

  The sound of my phone ringing only intensified the pounding in my head. I drank way too much the night before and I was paying for it now.

  “Fuck,” I murmured as my hand blindly patted my nightstand in hopes of silencing the offending noise. The only thing I succeeded in was knocking my damn phone to the floor.

  With a haggard grumble, I rolled over and searched for my phone with blurry eyes. The ringing stopped, only to start right back up again. I had a feeling that whoever was calling really needed to get a hold of me and I had an even bigger feeling that whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be good news.

  “Yeah,” I croaked out once I located my phone. I didn’t even look to see who it was, I simply closed my eyes as I answered while putting the damn thing to my ear.

  “You sound like shit,” Iron commented in my ear dryly.

  “Rough night,” was all I supplied.

  “Cable saw someone sniffing around the shipping containers on the far lot of the docks.”

  That got my attention and despite my whole body’s protest against it, I shot up like an arrow.

  “Identify them?”

  “No, the cameras on that side are shit and the person was wearing all dark clothing. They had a hood pulled up over their head,” Iron said sounding irritated.

  “But there’s really nothing out there to get into. What do you think they were looking for?” I asked as I willed my brain to wake up and process everything.

  “Don’t know. But I want to add a guy there for the next few days at least. Who do you trust the most?”

  Though he was the Prez, I really appreciated him letting me handle this. The docks were mine and it showed that he trusted and had enough confidence in me to handle it. That didn’t mean he wanted to be left out of the loop, which was fine by me.

  “Mouse on day watch. Give the mid-afternoon to Tripp. And Lake can pull midnight to eight, for now,” I said knowing that Lake rarely slept and preferred the distractions come nighttime. I had no idea why, it was just something I’d picked up about the guy after spending a year around him.

  “Yeah, sounds good. I’ll call them. You get yourself fixed up then get to the clubhouse.” I didn’t miss the amused humor in his tone. Thank fuck he wasn’t mad.

  I was usually more responsible. I didn’t overindulge in alcohol. I took my club duties seriously and I always wanted to be prepared for anything. But last night had done me in. Spending so much time around Gwen, hearing her talk and laugh with such ease and not being able to touch her was like someone cutting me with a thousand knives all over.

  To be a part of it but still feel like I was on the outside was like I was bobbing in the ocean with the life preserver just out of reach. It was intoxicating and maddening. Beautiful and painful. All of it at the same time. I knew I had no right to feel the way I did, but it didn’t stop the old memories from flowing in all night long.

  Gwen.

  The one I always wanted but couldn’t have.

  The brightest star in the universe but not one that I could reach.

  She had been my best friend at one point. The person that knew everything about me. And then she wasn’t. Then she slipped further and further away from me.

  I knew it was my doing and I only had myself to blame. The truth was, I’d spent so many years running, being in denial, of how I felt about her. I had done my best to push her away and move on. But no matter what I did, that blonde hair, blue eyes, and gorgeous smile were always in the back of my mind.

  Sometimes I would think that I was going crazy. I would be alone and I’d hear her whisper into my ear. Or I’d be watching something and I’d hear her laugh right beside me. But it was only her ghost in my mind.

  Focus. I needed to shake off the shitty feeling I had about the whole situation and focus on club shit. Only, I couldn’t ever completely put her out of my mind. As I left my room, I realized that I couldn’t even put her out of my life now that she was living with me. Though I wanted to take my bad mood out on her, as I walked into the silent living room and realized that she wasn’t even up yet, my frustration deflated. Truth be told, I knew I would have never pushed my grumpy mood off onto her. I could never. I knew if I so much as got one look at her, I would do a one-eighty. There was no way I’d be able to turn my back on her and treat her like shit. Again.

  Yeah, I knew what I’d done all those years ago, and every time I saw the sadness take over her eyes, it killed me inside. It was the worst thing I’d ever done. And the thing was, it was something I felt I had to do. Four years difference was a lot back then.

  But not so much now.

  Fuck! That wasn’t helping at all. Twenty-one and Twenty-five wasn’t that far of a stretch, and with her maturity level, there was hardly a difference. No one in the outside world would have blinked an eye at the tiny age gap now.

  The more I thought about it, the more I hated the situation. It wasn’t just age that made me hesitant back then. Sure, that was a huge part, but the whole thing with her dad and the club was the other half of that. Now that was the last thread hanging on. It was a strong one too, I knew it would never break—I could never let it.

  While Brass wasn’t my direct Prez anymore, he still meant a lot to me. Not only that, but he was part of the club and he held a lot of power. Then add the whole thing about how I looked up to the man and the fact that he was pretty much my dad’s best friend and it was just a whole shit cupcake that I wouldn’t ever take a bite of.

  I respected her dad in so many ways. While it’d been practically a lifetime since I’d seen or even talked to Gwen, I’d kept in contact with her dad throughout the years. He meant as much as my own dad meant to me.

  While my dad was a good man and raised me the best I thought that he could, he was terrible with advice. Especially when it came to shit that really mattered. He tried his best, bless his damn soul, but it got to the point that I’d stop going to him for any little piece of advice whatsoever. That was usually the time I would call up Brass, lay it out there while he listened intently, and then I would wait for him to process before giving me his words of wisdom.

  Now, when I needed his advice the most, I knew I couldn’t go to him. The one topic that had never been talked about between us for so many years. Gwen. His little girl. The club princess that never took her title to heart. And the thing was, this was the one thing I really needed advice on.

  Sometimes life could be downright cruel. It wasn’t bad enough that I ripped my heart out right along with hers that night. Then I’d spent the next couple of years being so close to her but having to force myself to pretend as though she didn’t exist. Once I was away from the club and at college the only thing I’d learned about the situation was that no matter how many miles I put between us, it wasn’t enough to keep her out of my mind. I proved that time and time again when I’d look at someone and see some part of Gwen in them. Or the nights that I stayed awake, the pillow becoming too hard under my head, the sheets becoming too scratchy making me feel like little shards of glass cutting into my skin as I toyed with my phone for hou
rs.

  Now life was really taking a hammer to my nutsack with her being under the same roof.

  I had to let thoughts of Gwen go. I had to be out the door and trying to figure out what was going on at the docks. I wondered who would dare to fuck with us. And why? That corner of the lot held old shipping containers that were pretty much too rusted out to use anymore. While we hadn’t gone through and checked each one out, I couldn’t imagine that there would even be anything in them. But then again, you never knew, there could have been a million dollars stashed in one of those things. I mean, I highly doubted we’d be that lucky. It looked like I had a shit-ton to do today then.

  I thought about who I could get to help me go through all of those damn things. I wanted to kick myself that we hadn’t done it before, but then again, we’d been juggling a lot of balls the past year trying to get everything up and running. Maybe opening three businesses and trying to turn the abandoned motel into something we could function out of was just too much all at once. We had been ambitious. I think we were not only trying to prove to the other chapters that we could make it work, but we were trying to prove to other factions of the city that we were marking our corner. We had to show that the club was there to stay and make a place for ourselves at the outlaw table.

  I decided to talk to Iron once I got to the clubhouse about who I should get to help me. I knew he’d leave it up to me but I always wanted his input. So far, Iron had proved to be a good leader. Different from Brass and even Cal from what I’d been around to witness. And that was neither a good thing nor a bad one.

  I thought Iron’s way of doing things worked for this chapter and the brothers that were here. I had a feeling we would go far with him at the head of the table for years to come.

  It didn’t surprise me that the clubhouse was quiet. Most of the guys were either already at work or sleeping away their hangovers. This was the time of day I loved to walk through this place. Not because I hated the chaos that came with so many men sharing one area, but because I loved the fact that there was a calm among that chaos. That was what the club was for me, noise and peace. The kind of noise that would normally help quiet the things that threatened to tear me apart on the inside. And the stillness of times like this was the balance that kept it all from becoming overwhelming.