Chasing Down Changes (Moroad Motorcycle Club)

by Debra Kayn

  Colby chuckled. "Pretty much."

  She turned to him and smiled, feeling sad and out of place. "Thank you."

  "Let's get you inside." Colby opened his door.

  She stepped out of the car. A roar filled the night, growing louder the longer she listened. "Colby?"

  He hurried around the vehicle and put her between him and the house. "Stay with me. Do not step away from me."

  The biker pulled up on the street, twenty feet from them, and cut the engine. The dog charged the fence in the yard and barked at Jeremy, who ignored the interruption.

  She swallowed hard and wondered for a moment what he'd done to Marci when he showed up at the Sterling Building and found her gone. Except, she'd kept her destination to herself and Marci had no idea where she planned to stay.

  "Aldridge, stay on the road unless you want me to arrest you for trespassing and harassment." Colby's elbow nudged her as he reached to his side and wrapped his fingers around the butt of his pistol.

  Guilt hit her. Colby would arrest Jeremy and it'd be her fault. If she hadn't gone away to try and figure out how to move forward with her life, Jeremy wouldn't be here.

  Jeremy held his arms out to the sides of him. "I'm not planning on stepping on your property, Sheriff. I'm expecting Tiff to walk to me, so she can go back to where she belongs."

  She reached out and clutched Colby's shirt, afraid she'd crumble on the ground. As a Moroad member, Jeremy firmly believed she was his property.

  Honor meant nothing to men who broke the law, except when it came to the women they claimed. That dedication she'd seen in Jeremy, Cam and Christina, Merk and Desiree, built a craving inside of her to have the same thing.

  But, reality was overrated, and the fantasy was a lie.

  She wanted someone to stand up for her, protect her, and do the impossible. For fifteen years she would've given anything for Jeremy to come back to her and now he was here, doing what she wanted, and confusing her on a daily basis.

  Even the arguments, the games, the back and forth pulling to see who was in control that drove her crazy at nineteen years old appealed to her more than the real fear of ending up in prison or losing Jeremy again. Being an adult sucked.

  Being an adult who loved a felon was killing her.

  She wanted to walk to him and prove she still wanted him.

  At the same time, she wanted to run into Colby's house and lock the door before her insanity got ahold of her. She was a grown woman who no longer believed in a badass biker riding up and sweeping her off her feet.

  Jeremy needed to understand that she wasn't a Moroad woman anymore, and hadn't been for fifteen years. She'd left the club behind when he'd gone off to prison. She'd rebelled against life, him, and the club when Lola came back pledging her life to Jeremy.

  "I'm asking you to leave," said Colby. "While this is a public road, I have no problem hauling you in as a nuisance and for verbally harassing Tiff. In fact, give me an excuse, because I'd like nothing more than to put your ass in prison, Aldridge."

  The dog, deciding it wasn't going to escape the fence, stopped barking and instead ran to sniff at a bush in the corner of the yard. Tiff stared at Jeremy, catching his gaze, and willed him to leave and not make trouble.

  She used to give him a certain look to get him to do whatever she wanted. At least on the important things, which seemed trivial now. His problem was bigger than drinking too many beers, whipping a joint out in public, or palming her ass in front of her science teacher in the cafeteria.

  Jeremy was a felon. He'd killed a man in prison, shot a man along the highway. His crimes went beyond ignoring her for a couple of days until she used sex and flirted her way back to him.

  A stony silence washed over Jeremy until she failed to recognize what he'd do. He could kill the sheriff with the pistol she knew he hid in the pocket of his vest. The quietness unnerved her, and a pang of blame soured her stomach.

  "Tiff?" Jeremy remained at the edge of the driveway. "Get on my bike."

  He owned her.

  She'd dedicated her life to him, intending with all her heart to love him until they both died of old age.

  He returned to hold his end of the promise. She was the one who broke the rules.

  Until he understood her position and she gave him the truth, she had to do what he asked. He deserved a reason why the future wasn't theirs to grab. Their time expired.

  "I'm sorry, Colby," she whispered. "I have to go with him."

  "Honey, you don't have to do a damn thing that man tells you to do." Colby stood straighter. "You're safe here. I'll keep protecting you like I've always done."

  Tears came to her eyes, and she blinked to clear her vision. "I know, but I have to finish what I started so that we both can go on."

  "Think about what you're doing," said Colby. "Once you leave my protection, I can't—"

  "You're a good man, Colby. I'm just as much at fault for him being here tonight." She stepped around Sheriff Colby, squeezed his arm, and walked down the driveway.

  Jeremy's stoic expression never changed. She sought his approval or disapproval over her returning to his side. He gave her nothing.

  Chapter Seven

  Taking Tiff back to the Sterling Building was out of the question. Jeremy opened the door to his motel room and stood back, motioning her inside. She had all her employees ready to jump to her rescue, and he wasn't going to have anyone stopping him from taking what he wanted from her.

  Tiff pursed her lips and refused to budge.

  "I have no problem carrying your ass inside," he said, unamused.

  He was tired, short on patience, and his balls ached. Finding her with the sheriff pushed him into pissed-off territory.

  She looked away. Nobody at the motel would help her.

  "I'm not going to tell you again." He grunted. "Get in the room."

  She stiffened. "I'm not going in there if Lola is inside."

  Jesus Christ. She got off on holding a grudge.

  "She's not in my room," he said.

  When Tiff still hesitated, he grabbed her arm and walked her inside, shutting the door behind them. He looked around for the first time at the place he brought her. The motel's accommodations met his basic needs. There was a toilet, a bed, a dresser, and a chair. Thanks to Christina, he had clothes.

  In exchange, his money bought Tiff the Sterling Building. She was living in a fucking castle, and when she pulled her shit together, they could go back to the Sterling Building. He could live anywhere, and she deserved comfort.

  "Get comfortable." He removed his pistol and set it on the dresser. "Marci mentioned you had a few days off work, and now you'll be spending the time here with me."

  Tiff skirted the bed and walked to the corner of the room beside the bathroom door. "I can't stay."

  "You're staying."

  "No, I mean I left my bag in the driveway of Sheriff Colby's house. I don't have clothes or my toothbrush or..." She hugged herself, yawning. "We can talk if that's what you want, and then I'll need you to take me back to town. Or, I could walk, I guess."

  Jeremy sat down in the chair and leaned over to unlace his boots. "You're wearing yourself out with the hours you work. You're staying here. In the morning, you can call one of the women who work for you and they can pack you another bag. There's a package of toothbrushes in the bathroom that Christina put in there when she set up the room. Take one. Tonight, you're going to lay down on the bed and sleep. We're both beat, and I don't feel like hashing through everything tonight."

  "I'm not tired."

  He glanced over at her. Her heavy eyelids and dropped shoulders called her a liar.

  Toeing his boot, he kicked both of them to the middle of the room, pulled his socks off, and stood. He undid his belt, keeping his eyes on her. Instead of the emotional rollercoaster he expected from her, she seemed to stay permanently in low energy mode. The only time she showed any hint of feelings was when he forced her to deal with him.

  He stripped
off his vest, his shirt, his jeans, and watched her turn her back on him. He grinned, catching her shock before hiding from him. He's hard cock strained in her direction.

  "You're not wearing boxers," she said.

  He walked over to the bed and laid down. "After fifteen years of wearing only a jumper, I'm more comfortable going without underwear. Now, get undressed, turn the light off, and get in bed."

  She marched over to the door and flipped the light switch. Her rebelling against the order he'd given her irritated him. He wanted to see her body. Her woman's body. The fuller hips, the bigger breasts teased him since he'd got back. He wanted to take her body for a test drive and keep going around those curves.

  "Chicken," he muttered.

  In the dark, she said, "This is stupid, Jeremy. We're not young anymore. I've moved on with my life. I shouldn't have to do what you say or try to make you feel better about the situation. You need to deal with the changes. Promises we made at nineteen and twenty years old don't mean anything when we've gone two different directions. I understand your curiosity about what I'm doing with my life, but I'm not hiding anything. I run Silver Girls. I own the Sterling Building, and as you know and I have no idea how you found out, I restarted the bordello. I have a very stable life, and I've left Moroad behind."

  He listened without injecting his thoughts about the changes she'd made. Without him supporting her through the years, she would've been waiting in one of the motel rooms for him to return.

  "You're mine." He bunched the pillow under his head. "You knew that when I went away."

  "Times are different now. I don't need you for support." Her voice faded and moved in a different direction. "I remember when Cam and a couple of the other members came back from prison. They understood what was waiting for them when they returned. We're different. I moved on."

  "You're only trying to convince yourself. That chick working upstairs for you said you weren't one of the women fucking the customers." He clasped his hands behind his head.

  "That doesn't mean I sat around waiting for you all these years." Her voice came closer to him. "Where am I supposed to lay down? You're taking up the whole bed. This isn't even a normal size bed."

  "There's plenty of room." He reached out blindly, found her arm, and tugged.

  Momentum tossed her over his chest, and she grunted on landing. "I'm not having sex with you if this is what you planned."

  "Right." He found her waist, lifted, and deposited her to his right side, next to the wall.

  She wiggled in the small area and faced him on her side. "I'm serious, Jeremy. You try anything, and I'll fight you."

  He reached over, grabbed her wrist, and put it on his hard cock. "This is fifteen years of thinking about coming back to you. One more night of waiting won't kill me. Now, close your damn eyes, shut up, and sleep."

  She snatched her hand back and rubbed her palm on her hip.

  He reached down and pulled the blanket over both of them before stretching out and putting his forearm across his forehead, a habit he'd picked up in prison because the fucking light was always on in the catwalk.

  She pulled the blanket tight against her. He concentrated on breathing and relaxing his muscles. The bed sucked. Not the size, because he preferred to have Tiff close where he could feel her every move and know she wasn't leaving the bed without him waking up. It was the softness. He preferred a hard, lumpy surface to keep him from sleeping too hard and letting down his guard.

  Tonight, he'd have no problem staying awake. He wasn't planning on resting or giving Tiff a chance to escape.

  "Jeremy?" she whispered.

  He grunted.

  "You said fifteen years' worth..." Her gulp filled the quiet of the room. "You had sex with Lola when you came back to Federal, so that's not true that you were only thinking about me the whole time. You can hate me, but don't lie."

  He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. Others learned never to question him. He gave no one answers. His private life remained in his control. Weak men showed emotion. To succeed in the world, he had to plan, foresee, and bend situations to his way.

  He had to push forward with his plan and make no mistakes. He closed his eyes again. Tiff asked for the impossible. What he had with Lola was none of Tiff's business, but he'd give her enough information to sleep and begin to bend her toward their life together.

  "I haven't had sex with Lola or any of the Moroad women since I returned." He inhaled slowly and exhaled even slower. "No more questions. I need to rest, and you need to sleep."

  The only answers she'd gain would come from him. Brothers never snitched. Lola would never talk. If it took all fucking week, he'd make Tiff believe in him again.

  An hour later, Tiff's breathing evened out and became shallow. Her body relaxed. Jeremy turned on his side, unfamiliar with lying next to someone else. He enjoyed watching her sleep and the way her body heat warmed the bed.

  He refrained from touching her and soaked up the way the blanket moved when she inhaled, and her breath tickled his skin when she exhaled. The urge to curl his fingers in her blonde hair and wrap the strands around his wrist, tying her here next to him took all his attention.

  She moaned in her sleep. He propped his head in his hand, watching her dream. Her feet nudged the blanket, fighting whatever displeasure only she could see. He no longer understood her needs or wants.

  Tiff used to share her dreams and fears with him. Her teenage nightmares centered on her mom's drinking habits and the fear that Jeremy would stop loving her like her mom had done to her when she put the bottle before her daughter. He always made sure she understood he'd never stop loving her.

  He'd spent many nights rubbing Tiff's back until she fell asleep. He slipped his hand under the blanket and gently laid his palm against her. His chest tightened. Her and her damn backrubs. She used to make stupid bets with him, knowing she'd win, so he'd owe her a rub before they went to sleep.

  Tiff whined and moved her head back and forth against the pillow, agitated and caught in whatever disrupted her sleep.

  "Sh..." he said softly, making light circles across her upper back. "Sleep, baby."

  She calmed and let out a deep breath. A pang hit him square in the chest. He'd botched taking care of her. She'd needed him, and he wasn't there for her.

  Tomorrow, he'd confront his dad and find out what happened while he was gone. He widened his fingers, the distance from his thumb to pinky almost spanned her back. She sighed and lay still. Encouraged, he rubbed up and down her spine with a shaky hand.

  Whatever caused Tiff to fight him came from bigger reasons than him supporting her all these years and expecting her to welcome him back.

  Chapter Eight

  There was only one thing worse than waking up in a strange motel room. Waking up in a motel room alone and afraid Jeremy snuck over to meet Lola for early morning sex.

  Tiff unfolded her arms and walked to the door. She'd already found the extra toothbrush, used Jeremy's hairbrush, and scrubbed all the makeup left over from yesterday off her face. There was nothing more she could do because she had no extra clothes and her necessities to start the day.

  She peeked out the door and found Jeremy standing at the other end of the parking lot talking with Cam. Her chest fluttered. She'd forgotten the raw power father and son projected when standing together.

  She closed the door quietly and stood under the covered walkway not wanting to interrupt them or be anywhere near Jeremy's father.

  The man scared her to death when she was a teenager. As an adult who knew the difference between right and wrong, mentally sound and insane, Cam was bat-shit psycho and living in his strict environment of killville. If anyone crossed him, he'd put a bullet in their head, including Jeremy, his son.

  It wasn't a surprise to know Cam knew everything there was about Red Light and informed Jeremy about it all.

  A door opened to her right, and she glanced away from Jeremy.

  Lola stepped out of the roo
m, her makeup on, her hair styled, and stretched her bare arms above her head, making her breasts push against her shirt. Tiff's lip curled, and she clamped her teeth tighter. Everything about the women rubbed her the wrong way.

  From the very beginning, Lola's motive toward Jeremy was always suspicious.

  What kind of grown woman let a sixteen-year-old boy hang out with her? Jeremy struck up a friendship with Lola when she was having sex with all the other Moroad members, and he continued to put his friendship with Lola above everything else, including Tiff.

  Granted, the age difference between Jeremy and Lola wasn't quite so apparent now that Jeremy was thirty-six years old. He was a man, and his needs were different. What those needs were, Tiff had no idea, and she hated that she no longer understood Jeremy's motives or joined in his dreams for his life.

  "Well, well, well..." Lola walked toward her, hooking her thumbs in the front pockets of her jeans. "I never thought you'd lower yourself by coming around here."

  "You think about me too much." Tiff swung her hair over her shoulder and tilted her head. "Are you switching sides now, Lola? Maybe you've run out of men to keep you entertained, seeing as how the new girls around here are younger, firmer, and more energetic."

  Lola lifted her chin and laughed. "Oh, darling, you have no idea how things are done around here."

  "Nor do I want to, so save your breath." Tiff gazed back at Jeremy and Cam.

  Jeremy stood toe to toe with Cam. The similar body type of the two men blew her away. Jeremy's profile was the splitting image of Cam, even down to the beards they both sported. Same strong nose, high cheekbones, lazy-lidded eyes. The only blatant difference being the gray stripes in Cam's whiskers and Jeremy's father stood two inches shorter because he rarely straightened his left leg fully after suffering an injury in prison years ago.

  Bear walked out of his motel room, spotted Tiff and lifted his chin. She waved and mustered a smile for the older man. She'd always liked Bear. His big hugs, gruff voice, and hairy body always made her feel safe with him. He respected her too, which was a unique experience to have with a member of Moroad.