by Chiah Wilder
Belle: I’m making baked macaroni and cheese with smoked bacon, a tomato and radish salad, and country biscuits. Comfort food fest. I need it.
Banger: You okay?
Belle: No. Court today. Feeling the blues.
Banger: Did the judge fuck up?
Belle: No, I did.
Banger: No fucking way. The system always fucks up. Not the people.
Belle: :) Thx for that. Be over at 6:30. Bye.
Banger: Can I come earlier?
She sighed. She craved a slice of quiet where she could wallow without talking, thinking, or feeling—alone time to simply be. Ethan wouldn’t be home from Luke’s until six.
Belle: 6:30 works out fine. See u.
She knew Banger would be thinking she was still distancing herself from him, and he’d be right. But for the time being, that was the best she could give him.
* * *
After dinner, she watched with mild amusement as Banger and Ethan battled the zombies in a new game he’d brought over for her son. Every so often, Banger would glance over to her, his hand gently squeezing her knee, concern brimming in his eyes. He was sweet, and she’d tried real hard to be cheery and perky at dinner, but the truth was she didn’t fucking feel cheery or perky, and he’d just have to deal with it.
They watched a few episodes of Goosebumps then Ethan went up to his room to finish his homework and read. Banger put his arm around her, drawing her in to him, his hand tilting her head back so he could kiss her. At first, he brushed his lips across hers gently, but then he took her bottom lip and sucked it between his teeth. She broke away from his mouth and burrowed in the crook of his arm, her head pillowed on his chest. She heard his heart thumping, felt his chest rise and fall with each breath. His scent of cloves and leather comforted her.
He threaded his fingers through her hair. “What’s the matter, baby? Do you wanna talk about it?”
She squeezed him tighter. “No. I just want you to hold me. Nothing more.” She felt him bend down before his warm lips touched her head, kissing it. As they watched the figures flick across the TV screen, her eyelids grew heavy, and with the steady rhythm of Banger’s heart, she fell fast asleep in his arms.
Chapter Nineteen
Banger kicked the metal filing cabinet next to his desk, denting it with his steel-toed boot. “Fuck! What the hell happened?” He stared at Hawk, who sat with an impassive face watching the president kick and bang against the office furniture. Banger leaned against the wall, sweat beads rolling down the side of his face. “Tell me what the fuck happened.”
“The Mexican group called off the deal. They told me they got a better one at a cheaper price. They asked if we wanted to match it, and I told them to fuck off. We had a goddamned deal with them, and they call it off at the last fuckin’ minute?”
“Did Liam know any of this?” Banger asked as he began to cool down.
“He swears he didn’t know shit. He was just as surprised about the whole thing as I was.” Hawk shook his head. “Something doesn’t ring right with this.”
“You’re fuckin’ right about that. Someone pulled the goddamned deal from under us.”
“We got a mole.” Hawk rubbed his face.
Banger blew out a long breath. “Fucking right. Damn! Who else knows about this in the club?”
“Just you.”
Affection spread over Banger. Hawk was a brother to the end; he could always trust and depend on him to do what was in the best interest for the brotherhood. “Good. Let’s keep the knowledge to a bare-ass minimum. I want to know who the fuck gave the assholes a better deal, and when we find out, I suspect we’ll find our mole. You do your computer research magic, and I’ll have Rock, Axe, Tug, and Chigger dig around.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have the new guys know ‘bout this yet. I think we should go with Chas and Bear instead of Tug and Chigger.”
Banger rubbed his chin, his beard scratching his fingers. “You could be right, but Tug, Chigger, and I go way back. They were the ones feeding me all the shit ‘bout Dustin running the Kilson chapter into the ground. They’re cool.”
“If you trust them, then I’ll take your word. I don’t know ‘em. I’m the type who doesn’t trust anyone unless they prove themselves first.”
“They’re cool. Tell ‘em all the bare minimum, and you do a lot of the shit behind the scenes. I wanna know who betrayed the club, and when I do, I’m gonna fuckin’ make sure we invoke the Insurgents’ justice—slow and painful death.”
Hawk rose to his feet. “I’m with you on this all the way, brother. I’ll let you know when I find anything out.”
After Hawk closed the door, Banger slumped down in his chair. The mother club had been lucky for the past twenty years—that had been the last time a brother had betrayed them. The guy had been a skinny, wiry one, always sweating and darting his eyes all around, thus earning him the name Nerves. It’d turned out he was a Deadly Demon, and when the club had found out, the fuckin’ snitch pleaded for death after five days of systematic torture. Banger ground his teeth. When he flushed out the snitch, he’d make the eventual death of Nerves seem like a walk in the park. No one fucked with him or his club.
* * *
Later in the day, Banger decided he needed a break, and he wanted to see Belle. After a rough few days, Belle had seemed to relax a bit, and they were back to laughing and fucking, which made him relaxed.
When he arrived at the diner, he noticed a wicked-looking Harley parked out front. He went over and admired it, wondering who it belonged to. The scent of freshly brewing coffee and baking bread tantalized him, and he realized how hungry he was. He bent over and looked through the serving station window, but he didn’t see Belle. Figuring she was in the ladies’ room, he sat at the counter and fiddled with the sugar packets, his eyes glancing every so often at the doorway leading to the kitchen.
“What can I get you, handsome?” Ruthie asked as she walked behind the counter. “Coffee and a slice of pie? Belle made a delicious banana cream pie. I can’t keep up with the demand.”
“I’ll take a slice of it. Where’s Belle?”
“She’s out back. She’s on break, but she should be back in a few minutes.”
Banger rose from his chair. “Pour me a cup of coffee. I’ll be back in a minute.” He walked through a small corridor then pushed open the back screen door. He stopped dead in his tracks, the muscles in his neck tightening as he saw Belle leaning against her car and a big guy towering over her. Spotting the patch of a grinning skull with snakes crawling out of its eyes, his ears pounded, and his fists clenched and unclenched. The Deadly Demons’ logo mocked him, and a guttural roar burst from his throat as he rushed up to the rival club member, whirled him around, and punched him in the face, knocking him to the ground. Blood gushed from Scorpion’s nose, and before he could move, Banger kicked his side savagely, his low grunt music to Banger’s ears.
Wiping his bloodied knuckles on his jeans, Banger stood back and with an agility that could rival a panther, Scorpion leapt up. Throwing his body weight into it, Scorpion’s fist slammed into Banger’s jaw, and the club president tasted metal as blood pooled in his mouth.
“Fucking asshole!” Banger said as he wiped the trickling blood from the corner of his mouth. With both hands, he grasped Scorpion’s head and brought his knee up to his face; there was a blunt crack and Banger released his head. Crimson escaped from Scorpion’s nostrils and, reaching into his cut, he whipped out a knife. Banger slid his hand into his boot and pulled out a gleaming one as well. Belle screamed.
From behind him, he heard the screen door creak open and slam, then Ruthie yelling, “What the hell is going on?”
As he and Scorpion crouched low, circling each other, he heard Belle say, “They’re fighting. I’m afraid Banger’s going to be hurt. We have to call the police.”
Ruthie’s loud voice rose above the pulsing in his ears. “The police don’t need to be involved in this. Banger can take care of himself.”
Scorpion lunged toward Banger, and in the second that his knife grazed Banger’s forearm, the club president grabbed hold of Scorpion’s wrist, twisting it behind his back until the Deadly Demon screamed in pain. Banger drew his fist back and ploughed it in the asshole’s stomach, dropping him to the ground. Then he pushed his knee into the Demon’s chest and pummeled his face with tight, angry fists, blood humming in his veins.
“Stop it, Banger! You’re going to kill him.” Belle’s voice screeched over him, and he looked down at Scorpion’s bloody face, the swelling just beginning to make his distorted features more grotesque.
He jumped up and marched over to Belle, his eyes narrowed. “Woman, we gotta talk!”
Nodding toward Scorpion, Ruthie asked, “Is he dead?”
“Nah. Just fucked up. Throw a bucket of water on him. Belle will be back in twenty.” Before Ruthie answered, he yanked Belle’s arm and dragged her with him to the side of the diner, near the alley.
Letting her go, he stared at her, and he could feel her fear radiating from her. “How long you been fuckin’ a Deadly Demon?”
Belle’s eyes widened as she brought her hand in front of her mouth. “I’m not fucking him.”
“Do you know him? The truth, woman!”
Belle nodded, her eyes cast downward.
Banger growled and slammed his bruised fist against the diner’s brick wall. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were with a Deadly Demon? That’s something I needed to know. You fuckin’ told me you didn’t know any bikers, and I catch you with that piece of shit? Why’d you lie to me?”
“Scorpion is Holly’s brother,” she said.
A bitter tang rose up his throat when he heard her say his name. “What the fuck does that have to do with you lying to me? Did you go out with him?”
Belle grimaced and raised her head up and down. His muscles tensed, and it felt like a million ants were crawling on his skin. She took a step toward him. “It meant nothing. I never liked him. I thought he was a creep. Holly pushed him on me, and I did it to please her. I only went out with him twice, and nothing happened. I didn’t know a Deadly Demon from an Insurgent. When I told Holly you were the president of the Insurgents, she told me not to tell you about her brother because your clubs were rivals. I didn’t lie to hurt you, I lied to keep the peace.” She reached out and touched his hand. He jerked away from her.
Images of Belle standing inside the room when they were having church a couple of weeks before flooded his mind. He tilted his head while mentally weighing the evidence: she had seen the guns, she’d heard what the club was talking about, the Mexicans called off the deal, and someone betrayed the Insurgents. A knot formed in his belly. “You told the fuckin’ Demon about the shit you heard at the meeting, didn’t you?” Blankness covered her face. Fuck, she’s a good actress.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve already told you that whatever you all were talking about didn’t sink in.”
“You’re fucking lying.” He crossed his arms around his chest and took a few more steps away from her.
“Banger, please, listen to me. This is all a big misunderstanding. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Scorpion, but Holly told me it would cause a lot of problems. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t know what you’re talking about with the club. Please, calm down and think reasonably. I let you into my home, my life. You know me.”
“I thought I did. I was wrong.” Pointing at her, he hissed, “No one fucks with my club. We’re through.” He turned around and stormed to his Harley, her pleas bouncing off him. He revved the engine and blasted away from the diner.
When he arrived at the club, all eyes were on his battered face, and he waved all questions away. Clutching a bottle of whiskey, he trudged upstairs to his room on the third floor. On each step, he cursed himself for letting the curvy, dark-haired vixen grab his cock and his heart. Deciding he was through with her, he collapsed on the bed, twisting open the bottle of booze. He took a deep drink, relishing the sting of the whiskey as it coated his throat. The late-afternoon rays flooded his west-facing room. He slammed the blinds shut then flopped back on the bed. Squeezing his eyes shut to block out his suspicions, thoughts still swam through his mind. If Belle turned out to be the snitch, he’d have to slit her pretty, soft throat. A hard iciness crushed his heart.
Fuck!
Chapter Twenty
Even though Banger had left, Belle stood watching the street, hoping he’d come to his senses and return. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. And for him to suspect her of telling Scorpion stuff about the Insurgents was insane. Banger had been so angry, hurt, and disgusted with her; she’d seen it on his face, heard it in the tone of his voice. She shouldn’t have lied to him. She’d wanted to tell him, but Holly made it sound like it would be World War III if she did. But lying to him had made everything between them terrible. Images of the fight haunted her, and she’d been repulsed by the viciousness of it. Banger had always been so sweet with her and Ethan, but the man who beat Scorpion to a pulp frightened yet titillated her. And what the hell was up with that?
Although, Belle had been glad Banger came when he did, because Scorpion was forcing himself on her, and he wasn’t taking her protests seriously.
Behind her, Scorpion moaned, and Belle, fearful he’d come for her, hurriedly walked past him and entered the diner. She picked up her phone and dialed Holly.
“You have to come here and get your brother. Banger caught him pinning me up against my car, and he went ballistic.”
“What? Is Scorpion okay?”
“I think so. He’s on the driveway behind the diner. He’s pretty banged up.”
“How could you let this happen? Do you get off on men fighting over you? I told you not to let that asshole Insurgent catch you and Scorpion together. You’re a stupid, naïve woman. Grow the fuck up!”
While Holly ranted, Belle wondered if she woke up this morning with a sign on her back that said, “Punching Bag.” Tiredness weaved through every fiber in her body, and her legs felt like Jell-O. Grabbing a chair, she dragged it close to her and collapsed in it. She wanted to jump off the never-ending merry-go-round her life had been on for two years.
Interrupting Holly’s tirade, Belle said, “Holly, come pick up your brother. I have to go.” She disconnected the call.
Ruthie came over and rubbed Belle’s neck. “You’re too tense. I called someone in. Go home and relax. You look beat.”
“I can’t believe what happened. Banger is so mad at me.”
“I’ve known Banger a long time, and he’s a softie with the women in his life.”
“I’m not a woman in his life. I think we were getting to that point, but then this shit with Scorpion came up, and now he’s dumped me.” Her voice broke.
“Don’t worry too much ‘bout that. It wounded his pride, seeing you with Scorpion. A man’s pride is everything. He’ll come around, you just wait and see.” She pulled out another banana cream pie from the refrigerator. “I could kick myself in the ass for telling him you were out back. Shit, I didn’t know Scorpion was back there with you. Sorry, Belle.”
Belle shook her head. “I’m glad you told him. Scorpion was forcing himself on me, and I couldn’t push him away. I didn’t think it’d end like this though. I’ll take you up on your offer to leave early. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”
As she gathered her things, Holly blustered in. “Where’s Scorpion?” Belle pointed to the back door. “Come on, and bring some warm rags.” Holly dashed out.
Belle trudged out back, a few wet rags in her hand. She saw Scorpion leaning against her car, smoking a joint. He glanced up when the screen door banged behind her. “Your fuckin’ boyfriend is a dead man. Tell him that, you fuckin’ cunt.”
Belle didn’t come any closer. “Do you want the rags, Holly?”
She came over then stopped when her brother snarled, “I’m fine. I’m fuckin’ outta here.” He slammed his fist on the hood of
Belle’s car, then glared at her. “You and me ain’t finished yet. Remember that.” He stared at her with the eye that wasn’t swollen shut, sending shudders of dread through her, and then he was gone. Belle blew out a breath.
“I’m sorry for the things I said to you on the phone,” Holly said. “I was so upset and worried when you said my brother got in a fight, I said some nasty things to you. Let me buy you a drink. I think we both need to unwind a bit before going back home.”
Belle agreed, and the two women headed to Billy’s Tavern, a few storefronts away from the diner. Sitting at a table in the dimly lit neighborhood bar, Belle sipped her white wine—it tasted like vinegar. She recounted the events to Holly, leaving out the part where Banger suspected her and that he’d dumped her. Even as she thought of it, she winced from the pain of loneliness the idea of him being out of her life brought.
“How’s Emily been doing?”
“Great. She’s adjusted nicely to living with me and Darren, and we’re both making sure she goes to school.”
Belle smiled. “I’m glad. Tell her I said hi.” She then proceeded to tell Holly about Harold’s ex-mistress coming to see her.
“Was she pretty?” Holly asked before she took a sip of her beer.
“Yeah, she was. And young. She came looking for the money.”
“Did she have a good figure?”
“Uh… yeah. Why?”
“Just wondering. You should’ve scratched the bitch’s eyes out. What a slut.”
“As long as I don’t see her anymore, she could be a pin-up girl, and I couldn’t care less.”
“So, she didn’t get any money from Harold?” A gleeful spark flashed in her eye.
“I wouldn’t say that. When Harold confessed his affair to me, he told me that he had lavished her with trips, jewelry, clothes, and expensive dinners. Anyway, all that’s in the past. I don’t care anymore.” I only care about Banger, and how I can make it right between us again. “Oh, and it seems like Jessica is spreading lies about me. You know, she always hated me for marrying her father.”
