Craving Trix

by Nicole Jacquelyn

  And to my cover models:

  E – I know that you were nervous and I know that you thought I was crazy. I’m just glad I saw what you didn’t. You’re gorgeous, inside and out and I’m so unbelievably excited that you agreed to be my Trix. It couldn’t have been anyone but you. Thank you for making the Craving Trix cover what it is.

  J – thanks for being such a good sport every time I said to turn your head because I could see too much of your face. You’re so pretty (Seriously. Pretty.) and professional, and you made E so comfortable at the shoot. I owe you big. I’m not sure I ever told you how thankful I am – so this is me telling you now. Thank you.

  Sneak Peek

  The Aces’ Sons

  Craving Molly

  Will

  My mother was a pain in my ass. She irritated the hell out of me, but I loved her, so I could never tell her no. Even when she asked me to climb up on the makeshift stage at her birthday barbeque and jam with Leo and Trix like we were the fucking Partridge family.

  Which was what I was doing at that moment.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d asked me to do it, and it probably wouldn’t be the last—but I wasn’t in the mood. Trix and Leo were insanely good. The brother and sister came by their talent naturally. I’d seen their mom, Brenna, wail on the drums more than once, and I’d heard that she could play a shitload of other instruments by ear. Her kids seemed to have followed in her footsteps. Both could play the drums, guitar and who knew what other instruments like they were born to do it, but I just barely got by on my bass, which made me feel like an even bigger asshole when I played with them.

  We’d been playing at the barbeques on and off since we were kids, and for the past few years had begun our tried-and-true set with the same song. It was a tribute of sorts, and it didn’t matter how many times we played it, all the women of the club stopped whatever they were doing and stood still, watching us. “I Will Follow You into the Dark” by Death Cab for Cutie wasn’t really the older generation’s style, but when Trix had sung it exactly a year after the shooting that killed my little brother, great-grandmother, the Aces president, Slider, and his wife, Vera, everyone had stopped and stared. A song about following your spouse when they died, even if heaven and hell wouldn’t take them—well, that resonated with the rowdy bikers and their old ladies. It was also extremely fitting for our fallen president and his wife.

  I glanced at my mom and met her eyes as Trix sang, and I couldn’t help but nod when she mouthed ‘thank you.’ Yeah, I’d do anything for that woman and she knew it.

  As soon as the first song was over, we fell into a familiar pattern of songs that rarely changed. Leo sang most of them and Trix led on a couple, too, but I kept my mouth clenched shut. I wasn’t going to sing, I didn’t care what kind of puppy dog eyes my mother gave me. I was fucking twenty-three years old, goddamnit. I’d been to prison. I wore an Aces’ cut. I made my own damn decisions. Just for good measure, I didn’t look her way again.

  We knew the songs, knew that everyone liked them, and knew we could get our asses off the stage when we hit the end of our short list. So I was surprised as fuck when a few songs in, Leo completely stopped drumming and singing, well, yelling. We didn’t have any mics or anything—so he had to sing pretty loud.

  My hands went still as I glanced over my shoulder at him. He was staring emotionlessly off to the side of the clubhouse and when I followed his line of sight, I cursed under my breath.

  Fucking Cecilia.

  She’d just shown up in a barely decent top that I sure as fuck didn’t want to see on my little cousin, and was chatting with a prospect. She knew that shit would piss Leo off. I had no clue what was going on with them, but they’d been dancing around each other, fighting and making up for the past few years.

  Trix stopped when she realized we were no longer playing, and she turned abruptly to her brother.

  It only took seconds for both of us to stop playing, but that must have been what Leo was looking for because as soon as we were silent, he started yell/singing again.

  “La, La, Lalala,” he sang, a nasty smile on his face as he started drumming.

  Oh, shit. The familiar Offspring song made me groan and I immediately looked at Cam, who was standing near Trix’s side of the stage with their sons playing in the grass at his feet.

  He was livid at Leo’s choice of music. It was a good song, but fuck, Self Esteem was about a chick that kept fucking around on her man and he just kept taking her back.

  And Leo was staring right at Cecilia while he sang it.

  Trix looked at her feet, then glanced my way, shrugging her shoulders as she started to play. She wasn’t about to leave her brother hanging, even if he was making a complete jackass of himself. My fingers hit the notes on my bass without thought and I shrugged back as I joined in.

  I watched the crowd as a few of the guys started laughing, but my dad, Uncle Casper, and Leo and Trix’s dad, Dragon, were not amused.

  They were even less amused when my little sister, Rose, led our cousin, Lily, onto the grass directly in front of the stage. The two had been practically inseparable since they were born just six months apart, so it wasn’t surprising to see them together. What was surprising was the fact that they must not have felt the tension that filled the field we were standing in. As they came to a stop, Lily’s head was nodding along with the beat, her thin, fourteen-year-old shoulders moving slightly while Rose stood still next to her.

  Then my baby cousin surprised the fuck out of me when she started rocking. Hard.

  I couldn’t help but grin when Lily suddenly let go of Rose and threw up devil horns, her hair flying all over the place as she danced. She was really fucking moving, jumping and whipping her hair around, and most of the crowd around us stopped to stare. They weren’t being rude—most had smiles on their faces, but they were definitely staring.

  My little sister looked around with a scowl, then got this determined look on her face. I knew that fucking look, and I felt my shoulders get tight as I watched her.

  My shoulders relaxed again as Rose began to move. She was tentative at first, barely nodding her head. Then she closed her eyes, shook out her arms, and started jumping and jerking alongside Lily, making sure that the crowd was watching both of them.

  Christ, I loved that kid.

  “When she’s saying that she wants only me, then I wonder why she sleeps with my friends,” Leo screamed, his voice abruptly cutting off as he caught sight of the girls dancing in front of us.

  Trix and I stopped, too, and it irritated the shit out of me. Couldn’t we make it through one fucking song? I wanted to finish out the fucking set and get off that damn stage.

  “Hey,” Lily yelled, pulling my attention forward again.

  She turned her face toward the stage, her unfocused eyes pointed in our direction. “I want more Offspring.”

  I smiled as Leo chuckled. “Nah,” he called out quietly, knowing Lily would hear him. “Pretty girl deserves a pretty girl song.”

  Leo met Trix’s eyes and I had no idea how she knew, but she immediately started playing. I laughed quietly, then joined in, looking back at Leo for a second.

  His eyes were soft—that’s the only way I knew how to explain it. They were tender, indulgent, and they were pointed right at Lily, who was smiling sweetly as her hips moved from side to side, her arms high above her head.

  “She’s got a smile that it seems to me, reminds me of childhood memories. Where everything was fresh as a bright blue sky,” Leo sang in his gravelly voice.

  Lily’s mom—my Aunt Farrah—whooped loudly, then made her way to our little makeshift stage, shaking her hips and singing along. My mom and Brenna followed her, shaking their asses, too, and I started laughing.

  They were all dancing like crazy and signing along, and Lily was smiling so huge, her cheeks must have been aching.

  “Oh, oh sweet child o’ mine,” Leo sang, still watching Lily as she spun around and around in a circle.
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br />   We went through a lot more songs after that, and I couldn’t even bitch about it. How could I bitch when Brenna’s pop, Poet, and his wife, Amy, were dancing with his hands on her ass to the side of the stage? It was a little disgusting, but still sweet as hell. My mom had a dreamy smile on her face as she sat on my dad’s lap—he was singing quietly in her ear, and Dragon and Brenna had disappeared not long after he’d pulled her from the dance floor and threw her over his shoulder.

  It was fucking awesome to see everyone so happy. There was a time only a few years before that I hadn’t imagined any of us laughing or having a good time again.

  When we were finally done for the night and the boys were setting up the sound system, I had sweat pooling at the base of my spine and I was pretty sure I stank. Did I remember to put on deodorant that day? I wasn’t completely sure—but I decided I’d just keep my arms down until I could grab a quick shower inside the clubhouse.

  I was setting my bass back in its case when a bunch of loud voices came from the edge of the clubhouse to my left, not far from where Cecilia had been standing earlier. My heart thumped hard in my chest at the commotion, and my head snapped up to analyze the threat. I’d been caught unprepared in the past, but I never would again.

  Then my jaw dropped as Samson and a prospect—I could never remember his name—came around the back, half dragging and half carrying a girl between them.

  What the fuck?

  My stomach sank as I recognized the yellow scrubs with purple fish the woman was wearing and I jumped down off the stage, my bass forgotten as I jogged toward them.

  It couldn’t be her. No way. She wouldn’t come out to the clubhouse.

  I took the woman in fully from head to toe. Fuck.

  She was bloody. Her scrubs were dirty and ripped and her head was rolling on her shoulders as she tried really hard to keep her feet under her.

  She only had one shoe on.

  I told myself that lots of women probably wore those scrubs. Lots of women had that color hair and those same ugly as fuck tennis shoes. I’d almost convinced myself when her head rolled to the side and I caught a glimpse of her face. Her blue eyes met mine, and she let out a short sob.

  No.

  “Will,” she whispered, her lips trembling.

  “Aw, fuck, sweetheart,” I groaned, lurching forward so I could lift her slight frame gingerly into my arms. “What the fuck happened?”