GUNNER: Lords of Carnage MC

by Daphne Loveling

  Outside, it’s a bright, sunny day already. It doesn’t feel like early morning any more. I must have slept longer than I thought, thanks to the roofie Gonzalo put in my drink. The biker guy is already astride his motorcycle, waiting for me. I should have changed into jeans, I think ruefully, and almost go back inside. But then the bike starts up and the man gestures for me to get on. Well, somehow I managed to ride here in this dress last night, so I guess I can pull it off again. I toss the long strap of my bag over my head so it’s secure, then awkwardly get on and straddle the seat behind the man.

  “I don’t even know your name,” I call over the roar of the engine.

  “Gunner,” he calls back.

  “Nice to meet you, Gunner,” I reply, feeling like a total moron. “I’m Alix.”

  In response, he merely grunts. Gingerly, I wrap my arms around his waist, and he pulls out onto the highway.

  Ten minutes later, we’re seated in a booth at a crowded diner. Delicious smells of hash browns and coffee are wafting toward us. Up until now, I wasn’t really hungry, but the food aromas remind me that I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday. My stomach growls impatiently as I ponder the menu the waitress gave me. I feel like I could eat a horse, but I settle on the country breakfast with pancakes, eggs, and sausage. And coffee, of course.

  “Good deal,” Gunner nods approvingly. “I was afraid you were gonna order some bullshit egg white, no-food omelet or something.”

  “Not a chance. You were right, I’m starving.” I take a sip of the hot coffee the waitress just brought me. “Oh, that’s good,” I sigh. I take another sip, savoring the taste and the warmth.

  “So,” Gunner begins after a moment, leaning back on his side of the booth. “You want to tell me what you were doing in that bar last night?”

  Shit. I guess I should have known he might try to pry into that. “Look, I’m sorry,” I say, “But it’s really none of your business.”

  He cocks a brow at me and smirks through his beard. “None of my business?”

  “No offense, but you’re a total stranger, Gunner.”

  “I’m a total stranger who saved your ass last night.”

  He’s right, of course. Maybe I do owe him some sort of explanation, as payback for putting himself out there for me.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur, chastened. “You didn’t have to do any of what you did. It’s just… well, it’s kind of personal.”

  “He your boyfriend?”

  “What? No!” I start laughing, the idea’s so ludicrous. “No, no. Nothing like that. I’m just… looking for someone. I think Gonzalo might know where she is.”

  “Someone?”

  “My sister,” I admit.

  He nods, considering this. “She his girlfriend?”

  I look down at the table. “Something like that,” I say softly. “Look, can we talk about something else, at least until the food gets here? I’m still feeling a little queasy, and my head hurts.”

  He gives me an easy grin and lifts his chin once. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

  “Um. I don’t know.”

  “Hey, you don’t want to talk about your sister. You pick the conversation subject.”

  I sigh. “Fine,” I say, a little irritated. “Do you go to the Smiling Skull very often?”

  He smirks again. “From time to time.” He doesn’t go any further, and after a few seconds I realize he’s purposely not saying much so I’ll have to keep asking questions to keep the conversation going. Jackass.

  I shake my head and snort softly. “Okay. What’s the Lords of Carnage?” I ask, glancing at one of the patches on his leather vest.

  “It’s an MC out of Tanner Springs, about an hour west of here.”

  “MC?”

  “Motorcycle club.”

  “And what’s a ‘road captain’?” I say, reading from another patch.

  “It’s more or less what it says. When the MC’s on the road, I’m the captain. I organize our runs, and make sure shit goes as planned.”

  “A run?” I wrinkle my nose. “Like a group motorcycle ride?”

  “Yeah. Like that.”

  The waitress arrives with our food, and for a few minutes, neither of us says anything as we eat. I’m so hungry and the food’s so good that I have to restrain myself from moaning as I chew. It’s an effort to eat slowly, and that takes up all my mental energy for a while.

  Eventually, I take a last bite of sausage and lean back against the faux leather of the back rest. My head has finally stopped pounding so hard, and my mind is starting to feel clearer. “Oh, my God, I’m stuffed,” I sigh happily. “I feel so much better.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Gunner shoots me a sexy grin. I don’t know if it’s because I’m finally starting to feel human again, but that grin sets something off inside me that feels almost like electricity. It’s like just for one dizzying, mesmerizing second, he’s not some dangerous stranger who inexplicably helped me last night. And I’m not some stupid girl who’s completely out of her element on some hopeless mission to find her sister. For just one tiny moment, there’s this little signal that feels like it’s just between us. Like the grin is just for me, and no one else. Like it’s the prelude to something… intimate. His eyes are locked on mine, and all of a sudden all I can think about is how impossibly blue they are.

  Then I realize I’m staring at him, and quickly drop my gaze.

  A long second passes.

  “So. Now that you’re feeling better,” he continues as if nothing just happened, “you said you’re looking for your sister.”

  My head feels like it’s starting to spin again. But this time, it has nothing to do with the drug Gonzalo gave me. My mind just flashed back to an image from last night, when I was on the back of Gunner’s bike, my arms wrapped around him as he drove me to the motel. I remember the masculine smell of his leather and the hard muscles of his torso under his shirt. But mostly, I remember how sexual it felt, sitting back there pressed up against him.

  My skin starts to feel all tingly at the memory, and even though Gunner’s all the way across the table, all of a sudden he feels uncomfortably close.

  “Yeah,” I murmur, trying to focus on what he’s saying.

  “So, if you’re staying in a motel, you’re obviously not from around here,” he prompts.

  “No. Uh, Virginia.”

  He gives a brief nod, almost like my answer passes some sort of test or something. “So, why the fuck are you staying in that dump? There’s gotta be better places around here than the Parkside Motel.”

  “It’s all I can afford,” I admit. Actually, I can’t even afford that.

  His innocent question starts me down the path of lamenting again how much money I spent for a night in that hovel of a room. Then, suddenly, my heart jumps in panic.

  “Oh, my gosh, what time is it?” I blurt out.

  Gunner glances over my shoulder to a spot above the counter, where there must be a clock hanging on the wall. “Ten-thirty.”

  “Shit!” I cry. “Checkout time’s at eleven. They’ll charge me for another night if I don’t leave the room in time! The manager told me they’re very strict about it. I need to go!”

  Gunner raises his eyebrows at me. I feel my face start to turn red. I don’t need anyone knowing the direness of my financial situation. Certainly not this near-total stranger who’s already saved my neck once. But the reality is a stark one: if I have to pay for another night, I won’t even have enough money to make it back to Virginia. I’ll sleep in my car if I have to. But I can’t afford any more motels if I want to find Eden before my money runs out completely.

  “Please,” I beg, ignoring the heat in my cheeks. “You’ve been so kind to me already. I really don’t want to take any more advantage of you. But could you take me back to the motel to get my bag and check out?”

  Gunner contemplates me for a second, his face expressionless. Then he gives me a brief nod and raises his hand for the check. “Okay. I’ll get y
ou back there in time.”

  “Thank you so much!” While he pays the bill, I run to the bathroom and take a couple of seconds to compose myself. In the mirror, I look pale and frightened. I forgot to brush my hair this morning, and my white dress is definitely the worse for wear. I hope I get back to the motel in time to change into something else before I have to be out of the room.

  We end up making it back with ten minutes to spare. Gunner waits outside and smokes a cigarette while I throw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, pull my hair into a pony, and give my teeth a quick brush. Stuffing the few items I’ve unpacked back into my small backpack, I grab the key and am out the door walking toward the front office at five minutes to eleven, relief flooding my veins.

  5

  Gunner

  I’m standing outside the motel room, finishing a smoke, when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out just as Alix emerges, backpack slung over her shoulder. She’s changed into faded jeans and a fitted dark red T-shirt. Her hair’s pulled back from her face into a messy ponytail. She looks fresh, and casual, and sexy as shit.

  “I just have to return this,” she says, holding up the key and jiggling it.

  I lift my chin. “Got it. I’ll be right here.”

  She flashes me a brief smile and turns toward the front office. I pause for a moment to appreciate her spectacular ass in a different package. When she’s disappeared around the corner, I regretfully drag my eyes away and look down at my phone. It’s a text from Thorn.

  Church this aftn. Rock has some business with the DDs to run by us

  I nod at the phone as though it’s Thorn himself and hit reply:

  I’ll be there

  I shove the thing back in my pocket and take a last drag of my smoke. I wonder what the Death Devils have in mind. They’re a club to the east of us — in fact, I’m in Death Devils territory right now. The Devils and our club have been inching toward an alliance, which started in part because of a desire on the part of both our clubs to strengthen our numbers. And to unite against a growing threat from the Iron Spiders, before the Lords took out their president.

  Now, even though the Spiders threat looks to be neutralized, it’s still in our best interests to strengthen the partnership with the Death Devils if possible. We sold them the last of our weapons shipments a while back, when our club decided to get out of gun running. Now they’ve largely taken over the business we walked away from. The Devils’ president, Oz, is kind of a closed book, but his men seem to respect the shit out of him, and he hasn’t fucked us over yet.

  I’m musing about what Oz’s club might be wanting to propose to the Lords, when shouting from the motel’s main office shakes me out of my thoughts. It’s Alix’s voice. I put out my smoke and go over to see what the fuck’s going on.

  When I get inside, she’s arguing with a fat, greasy-looking guy who’s standing behind the counter. Alix is waving her arms and pointing at a clock on the wall, which reads eleven ten.

  “You know damn well that clock is fast!” she yells. “You do this on purpose!”

  “It’s the customer’s responsibility to be out of the room in a timely manner,” the guy smirks. “This clock is the one we go by.”

  “I am not paying for another night,” Alix fumes.

  “If you’re unable or unwilling to pay, we’ll just have to get the local authorities involved,” the guy says in a smug tone, reaching his fat fucking hand toward the phone on his desk.

  “I don’t think that’s gonna be necessary,” I interrupt, walking up to the counter. The fat fucker turns toward me, a flash of apprehension on his face.

  “Sir, are you with this woman?”

  “I am.” I put my elbows on the counter and lean in toward him, until my face is maybe a foot from his. I’ve easily got five inches on him, and even though we’re probably about the same weight, his is mostly from fat.

  “I’m sorry,” he half-stammers, his eyes moving from Alix to me. “But it’s our policy to charge for another night if a customer fails to vacate their room in a timely manner. I explained this to her yesterday when I checked her in, and she said she understood.”

  “I can understand that,” I say easily. “Trouble is, your clock’s broken.”

  “No, it’s not,” he says, and rolls his eyes.

  I fucking hate it when people roll their eyes.

  This fat fuck doesn’t seem to be getting the message. I straighten, walk over to the wall, and take the clock down from the nail it’s hanging on. Bringing it back to the desk, I turn it over and bring it down hard on the counter, smashing its face. Both Alix and the greasy guy jump back, the guy visibly blanching.

  “Huh,” I mutter in a puzzled tone. I reach in through the splinters of broken plastic and move the minute hand back, until the clock reads ten fifty-five. “I guess you’re right. I thought it was broken, but it must have fixed itself.” I toss the thing, frisbee-like, across the counter. It crashes loudly against the back wall of the office. Then I grab the room key lying on the counter in front of Alix and toss it after the clock.

  “You have a nice day, now,” I say.

  The fat pig is so shocked he doesn’t say a word as I grab Alix’s hand and pull her back outside.

  “Holy shit,” Alex hisses as the office door swings shut behind us. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “Problem?”

  “No!” she starts to giggle, and then snorts loudly, bringing her hand to her face. “Oh, my God, that was epic!” Then she’s full-out laughing, hard enough that she has to stop walking and lean her hand against the outside wall of the motel to steady herself. She doubles up and gasps for breath, laughing until there are tears in her eyes.

  Watching her let go like this, it makes me realize how pinched and serious she’s been up to this point. Knowing I’m the reason for it — it does something to my chest. Like it’s constricting and expanding at the same time.

  She continues to shake in helpless laughter leaning against the side of the building for support. Before I know it, I’m laughing with her.

  “Come on,” I eventually chuckle. “Let’s get the fuck out of this shithole.”

  Alix is still giggling when we get to my bike. “Thank you so much for that, Gunner,” she says, her eyes sparkling. “That was the funniest thing I’ve seen in… God, I have no idea.”

  “My pleasure. That fucker deserved it.” He’s luckier than he knows that I didn’t beat his damn face in, just for the pleasure of breaking a few of his teeth. “Come on. I’ll take you back to your car.”

  I help Alix put on her backpack, then get on the bike. She slides on behind me, less awkwardly now that she’s not wearing a dress. Automatically, her arms go around my waist, the seat sliding her forward a little so she’s snug up against my back. I can feel her still giggling a little bit as I start the bike, her tits moving against my back as she does. My cock tightens in my jeans, and I remember how tough it was last night to look at her sprawled on the bed and not be able to do anything about it.

  Shit. The sooner I get her back to her car and send her on her way, the better. I’ve been trying to keep her safe from assholes since I met her, but if she’s not careful she’ll need saving from me next.

  The trip back to the Smiling Skull only takes a couple minutes, since now I can go full-speed without worrying about Alix falling off the bike. The bar doesn’t open until this afternoon, and the parking lot is deserted except for what must be her car. It’s a rusty as hell, dark blue Civic with a body style from the early nineties. This thing must have close to two-hundred thousand miles on it. I think back to how hard she fought against paying for another night at the motel, and realize Alix must be pretty goddamn broke if this is what she drives.

  I slow the bike and stop in the spot next to the Civic. Turning the engine off, I wait for her to get off, then stand to face her.

  “Well,” Alix says, flashing me a suddenly shy smile. “Thank you so much for everything, Gunner. I never properly thanked you fo
r buying me breakfast. And, well, for everything else.” She lifts her shoulders and spreads her hands.

  “What are you gonna do now?” I ask her.

  “Um…” She glances back toward her car. “I dunno. I’m going to keep looking for my sister.”

  “You’re not coming back to this bar, are you?” I ask sharply. “Are you gonna go looking for that Gonzalo guy again?”

  “I don’t know,” she admits. Her face crumples into a mask of worry, and it makes my chest hurt to see her smile go away. “I don’t think Gonzalo is going to tell me anything. But I’m sure he knows where she is. Or at least he did know.”

  “Alix, are you gonna tell me what the hell’s going on here?” I demand.

  My voice comes out so gruff and angry it surprises me. It seems to surprise her, too.

  “I…” she begins, looking at me with wide, confused eyes. “Gunner, this isn’t your fight. No, I wasn’t planning on telling you any more.”

  I lean against her driver’s side door so she can’t open it, and cross my arms. “Well, that’s gonna change. Talk.”

  “Why?” she asks, a sudden flash of defiance in her eyes.

  “Because I said so.”

  I’m not leaving until she does tell me. And she can’t leave until I let her into her car. We’re at an impasse, and we will be until she realizes there’s only one way forward.

  For a second I think she’s going to keep arguing with me. Then her shoulders slump a little bit, and she pulls her backpack off and tiredly sets it on the ground beside her. “There’s not that much to tell,” she sighs. “My sister left town, and I don’t know where she is. I’m worried about her. She was seeing Gonzalo, and I’m almost positive she left with him. Or because of him, anyway.”

  “How did you know to come here?”

  Her eyes flick to the side, toward the closed bar. “She had an app on her smart phone so I could track her. For safety. She had one on her phone for me, too. The last place the phone said she was was here.” She takes in a deep breath and lets it out, defeated. “And then she must have taken the app off, or deleted me, because she disappeared.”