Spades: Motorcycle Club Romance (Savage Saints MC Book 5)

by Hazel Parker

  “OK, now I feel much better about not sleeping with her,” I said dryly. “All yours, Pork.”

  Libby brushed by me without so much as a goodbye, approaching Pork, demanding that he take her to his room, and then following him in there. It took about two minutes before we could hear them fucking like bunnies; even though the rooms were generally pretty soundproof and quiet, they went at it so hard that it was impossible not to hear.

  “You really didn’t want her, huh?” Dom said, patting me on the shoulder.

  “It’s not so much that I didn’t want her,” I said. “I just want Natasha. And I’m not over it. Come back in a week and maybe it’ll be different.”

  But right now, I couldn’t even think beyond tonight. I couldn’t think beyond what Mama had said earlier about exhausting every possibility about getting her back. I swore that if I got such a second chance, I wouldn’t waste it.

  But as I heard Pork and Libby begging for each other and moaning each other’s name, I couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t a case where a second shot wouldn’t be possible.

  I’d had one chance.

  Or, perhaps, I’d never had a chance at all.

  Chapter 16: Natasha

  I really didn’t want to go to this party.

  Even though the mayor of Las Vegas was going to be there, even though my father had seemed to show something of a normal, human side on Thursday, even though slowly, I was beginning to laugh and smile a little more… I didn’t want to go.

  I knew that all the work I had done to start to move on past Richard—a difficult task, but a necessary one—would go right out the window the second my father walked up to me with a man by him. As soon as he tried to introduce me to one of his targets, all the feelings for Richard would come rushing back, and I’d be back at square one.

  But I had no choice.

  Well, that wasn’t technically true. I could have chosen not to come, but aside from creating a great chill between my parents and me, it would have been a bad look for my father to throw a party and have me skip it. And as much as he angered me and disappointed me with his behavior with Richard, he was my father, and he had made the effort to talk to me on Thursday.

  And so, when I put in my last earring, I stared at myself in the mirror, took a deep breath, and gave a half-hearted smile.

  “Just get through the evening,” I said. “Stick to the people you know. You’ll be good.”

  I headed out the door, finding Antonio outside, patiently waiting. I nodded to him as he opened the car door for me, and I slid inside. I looked through the windows, out toward the Las Vegas Strip, and I wondered if this was really the city where I would meet a good man. My father’s connections did mean that people would come here, even those who were out of town, but was a place nicknamed Sin City really the location to find a good man?

  Maybe I did need to forge my own path. Maybe I did need to go someplace like New York City or San Francisco and start my own company. Trying to find love in Las Vegas was feeling like I was trying to find love in a hopeless place.

  Antonio arrived at my father’s house, and I thanked him as I exited. My face, though, contorted with curiosity. The music inside seemed… a little louder than normal.

  And, for that matter, it was a modern song.

  What was going on?

  I walked inside to my parents’ house, finding my parents, some relatives, and the family of the mayor chatting around. Most of the guests had not yet arrived, but the main guests had; this was where my father would make his pitches, make his connections, and do whatever he needed to do to curry favor. Everything that followed was just a bonus, a celebration of whatever deal he had sealed.

  But it wasn’t like the mayor was some young hotshot out of college. In fact, the mayor wasn’t even a man; it was a woman in her mid-fifties named Clair Meyers.

  My mother was holding court at the moment. My father saw me, excused himself, and came over and hugged me.

  “Thank you for coming, Natasha,” he said.

  His breath smelled like liquor already.

  “Dad?” I said. “What’s with the loud music?”

  “Simple,” he said. “I thought I would loosen up. Relax a little. Our conversation Thursday showed me that I had tried too hard to control everything.”

  So you’re going to control nothing?

  Oh, Dad. You’re going to be like the awkward middle-aged man who tries to be hip by acting thirty years younger than you are. This is going to be interesting to watch.

  “I see…” I said, trailing off.

  Then I had a terrifying follow-up thought.

  While my father usually picked men that were kind, if not a good fit, at least my sober father usually had the smarts to pick a man that was not creepy. Still, that didn’t mean it didn’t make for some awkward conversations. And if he was that way sober, what kind of men was he going to introduce me to while he was drunk?

  Or, for that matter, how many men was he going to introduce me to while he was in that state?

  “Just do me one favor, Dad,” I said. “Don’t try and introduce me to anyone tonight. OK? I’m still trying to get past last week.”

  My father bit his lip, nodded, and put his hands on my shoulders.

  “I understand.”

  I waited in silence for him to add on “no, I won’t,” or even “but I can’t,” but he didn’t add anything else.

  “OK, so…”

  “I must get going back to the mayor,” he said. “Please join me.”

  I let out a sigh, my shoulders rising and falling in defeat, as I followed my father and shook hands with all of the Meyers.

  I could easily fake moments like these such that the Meyers would not for one second believe I didn’t want to be there. I could ask questions, smile widely, and express such genuine curiosity that no one would ever know that I was having an awful day and a depressing week. If there was one thing I had learned from my father, it was business, but from my mother, it was the art of courting and charming someone without them even realizing it.

  But then more and more people started to show up, and I began to feel very overwhelmed. I was still holding steady and still sporting a nice smile and a calm demeanor, but there were moments when I would turn away or when I would grab a drink that I couldn’t keep up the pretty façade. I was just exhausted and wished I was all alone.

  At one point, in fact, about two hours into the party, shortly before ten o’clock, I found myself standing at the bar all by myself, watching the party unfold before me. About fifty people milled about in the open expanse of my father’s house, telling jokes, trading work issues, and sharing gossip. None of it interested me; even if someone had come to me with an offer to invest in a billion-dollar company, I’m not sure I could have summoned the energy to pay attention at all.

  I looked back at the bartenders, who dutifully held their hands on their laps and waited for someone to come by. I thought of how lucky they had it; they only had to make drinks, pretend not to notice any conversation, and could just go about their nights and get paid. They had the simple jobs.

  “Natasha Sokolov?”

  I looked up. A young man in a tuxedo approached me.

  “Yes?” I said.

  I knew I sounded brisk and rude. I didn’t particularly care at this point. I was getting closer and closer to just leaving the party. The mayor and her husband were drunk at this point anyways.

  “Don’t you remember me? Oscar? From a couple of weeks ago?”

  I knew I was supposed to remember the name, and now that I saw him up close, I did remember the face. But if he was hoping that I remembered anything about him, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

  “Yes,” I said. “How are you, Oscar?”

  “Well, now that I am by you, I feel much better about how tonight is going.”

  I didn’t even bother to hide my eye roll. I looked over Oscar’s shoulder at the crowd, trying to see if my father had the drunken, stupid idea to
send an old guy my way. If he had, last Thursday wasn’t going to be the last time I slapped him.

  “I’m want to be alone,” I said. “I ask that you respect that.”

  “Alone?” Oscar said with a smile. “But why would a woman like you want to—”

  “What does that mean, a woman like me?” I said, glaring at him. “Do you mean because I’m beautiful? Because I’m smart? Or a woman like me who has had a bad week and a bad day and just wants to be left alone like any human in my spot would?”

  Oscar reeled back for a second, and I thought that I had accomplished my goal. I took a quiet sip of my drink as I shuffled to the side.

  But no, I thought too quickly. Oscar came back into view.

  “You know, there is one way to make a week better, and that’s with a man who knows what he wants,” Oscar said. “You see, I realized my mistake last time, Natasha. I was simply too erudite with you and not direct enough with you. Some women want to be charmed with intellect, others with boldness. I get the sense—”

  “You get nothing, Oscar,” I said. “I won’t ask you again. Please leave me alone.”

  This only seemed to invigorate Oscar even more.

  “As a man who shall become a great leader myself, I will often face rejection,” he said. “But I shall triumph by finding the right way to express myself. In your case, Natasha, I can see that you—”

  I slapped him.

  He glared back at me, a level of anger on his face unlike anything even close to what I had seen before.

  “You would dare to humiliate me in such a setting as this?” he growled.

  “I would when you don’t listen to me,” I said, staring daggers at him. “Here’s a clue, future leader. If you want to win over the people, you don’t do it by bulldozing your way in. You don’t do it by sticking to the course until others believe you, because the smart ones won’t. You do it by listening carefully. Start taking the hint and listen to this. Leave me alone.”

  “Stupid—”

  I slapped him again before I stormed off outside. I didn’t even have Antonio ready to take me home. I didn’t even think my father or mother noticed what I had done. I just desperately needed to be alone; this entire night had been a mistake.

  And the worst part of it was it made me miss Richard all the much more.

  I knew we could not be, not after the fallout he had from the fight with my father. Even if my father turned around and said I could date Richard, too much had happened for me to ever see it as normal. Richard still had to apologize, and even then, I wasn’t sure that I could believe he was serious until I saw something that demonstrated it.

  But that didn’t mean that seeing Oscar’s crude and boorish behavior didn’t make me want Richard back. Richard would listen. Richard would treat me well. Richard wouldn’t pull some stupid bullshit like Oscar had.

  I sat down on the steps of my house, putting my head in my hands. I refused to let myself cry; I had done enough of that last Thursday. I let myself do just about everything else, though, up to and including some sniffling that could have turned to tears at any moment.

  Then I heard the sound that could not have been more unbelievably timed. It was so perfect, in fact, that I wondered if someone had arranged something.

  I heard the sound of a motorcycle engine.

  I peered up from the steps and looked out. I couldn’t yet see the headlights of the bike, but I could hear the engine. It didn’t quite sound exactly like Richard’s engine, but then again, I’d only heard his engine by being up close to it. Maybe at this distance, it would sound different.

  But then…

  I heard multiple engines.

  Too many engines.

  Something didn’t feel right.

  I then saw the headlights—yes, plural—of the bikes coming onto the private property. As they drove by, they smashed windows, shot through the door, and began screaming and hollering.

  This was not Richard. This was not the Savage Saints.

  This was an assault.

  Screaming, I ran back into the house. Oscar saw me and said something about all the motorcyclists, but I ignored him and locked myself inside the nearest bathroom. Seconds later, I heard gunfire go up, followed by, “This is a robbery! Hands up!”

  Pandemonium broke out on the other side of the bathroom wall as people screamed, guns fired, and glasses shattered. I closed my eyes and slumped against the wall, trying to keep cool. This went on for several seconds as I went into something of a panic—I’d never experienced a live, armed robbery like this in my life before. I was on the verge—

  “Alright, that’s enough!”

  The voice of… my father?

  My father’s voice cleared through the air, stopping everyone, even the bikers, whom I think were too stunned by the fact that someone had not only stood up to them, but they had done so in such a setting.

  “Scar! What are you doing?”

  A laugh came from a man that I had never heard or recognized before.

  “We are coming to treat ourselves,” a man in an almost impossibly deep baritone voice said. “You told us that the mayor would be here tonight, and so we decided this was a good time for us to pay a visit.”

  My Dad knows whoever this is?

  What the hell is going on?

  “I told you that under the guise of working out a deal!” my father said. “And this is how you treat me? Do you have any idea how dead you all are?”

  “Not as dead as you,” Scar said.

  A gunshot erupted, and I clenched my teeth. My father… no…

  No, this couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real. Was my father in cahoots with criminals like this?

  “That’s your warning,” Scar said.

  Warning? So… he’s still alive?

  “Your next one will be to your throat,” Scar said. “It’s the most painful kill shot there is. I can assure you that you do not want to go in that way.”

  Not even my father dared to speak up. My father, much to my admiration in the moment, had had the courage to stand up to these robbers and control the scene, but a threat like that was not something that one could ignore and laugh off.

  “What do you want?” my father said.

  “We want all the valuables here,” Scar said. “My men will rob and plunder. And in return for your life, we want your girl.”

  No. No!

  I gulped at the thought. I hadn’t seen these men, but anyone who thought that a mass robbery like this was going to be worthwhile was not someone who was going to treat me well.

  But I knew someone who would.

  I pulled out my phone, quietly, and texted Richard.

  “At Dad’s house. Robbery. Other motorcycle club. Going to rape me. Please help!”

  I sent that and let the phone drop between my knees. I took a deep breath.

  “You will not touch my daughter,” my father said. “You would shoot me in the throat before you have her.”

  “Then I will shoot you and then have her anyway.”

  “She’s not here,” my father said.

  Dad… you better be careful with your lies. Don’t get yourself killed. Please!

  “You mean to tell me,” Scar said, “that you throw a big party under the Sokolov family name. You have everyone here, including the mayor. We have enough Sinners here to hold everyone hostage. You have no security system set in place. No one is here to call for help.”

  Call for help… not text for help…

  “And your daughter is not among the group? I find that very hard to believe, Igor. In fact, I might even say that you’re lying to me.”

  “She was here,” my dad said. “But I have not seen her in some time. She has likely already left.”

  But at this point, I wasn’t thinking about the consequences of my father’s argument with Scar or any of these Sinners. I had picked my phone back up and called Richard.

  The phone beeped… and beeped… and beeped…

  “Come on, com
e on,” I whispered, hating that the acoustics of the bathroom meant that my voice echoed in the area. “Damnit, Richard, come on!”

  It beeped… and beeped… and beeped…

  “Hi, Richard Peters here. I am unavailable—”

  “Goddamnit,” I whispered, nearly on the verge of tears.

  “But please leave a message so I can get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks.”

  The beep came not a moment too soon to tell me to leave a message.

  “Richard, it’s Natasha, I need your help bad,” I said, keeping my voice to a whisper. “I’m at my father’s place, the Sinners, they came and robbed and are holding us hostage. They’re going to rape me and kill me, they—”

  And then the bathroom door shattered as someone kicked it in. I looked up in horror at a tattooed, black-bearded man wearing sunglasses, with multiple tattoos up and down his neck.

  “Hey boss!” the man said, smiling and licking his lips. “I found the fresh meat you’re looking for!”

  Chapter 17: Richard

  I’d told myself that by the end of the weekend, I would have moved past Natasha enough that I would start to open myself up to other opportunities.

  Unfortunately, though the weekend was only halfway, the one thought that entered my mind had nothing to do with women.

  I was starting to really, sincerely think about selling The Red Door.

  It wasn’t even so much some desperate, sneaky ploy to try and get Igor back in the picture so I could then see Natasha. I wasn’t that desperate to get her; I knew where she lived and could have shown up at any moment. Sadly, though, that was one that I was trying to move on from.

  Instead, I just looked at it from a realistic perspective. If I wanted to marry someone and find someone who was worth a family, was I really going to be able to do so as a club owner? As someone who ran a burlesque studio?

  I had my doubts about it. Yes, the club gave me the chance to meet some very powerful and influential people, not to mention some celebrities here and there. Yes, the club introduced me to some beautiful women who seemed interested in knowing more about me.

  But “knowing more about me” and “wanting to get serious with me” were light years apart from each other. And even if I did find someone worth loving, worth marrying, and worth having a family with, could I do that effectively while running this club? I had a hard time imagining a life in which I could run the club on Saturdays and Sundays while attending my little girl’s soccer game or helping my son with his math.