by K. J. Dahlen
With every second that passed, Jaxson’s anger escalated relentlessly; his hand that was resting on the table clenched into a white-knuckled-fist. His hands were balled so tight I was sure he had to be using everything he had to try to control his impulse to go ever there and beat the shit out of Roy.
I nodded, abruptly. “Yeah, it was Roy. My mom is thrilled thinking they’re gonna get married soon.” My lips trembled; my voice soft and quivering like a child.
Jax had a look that told me he wanted to kill Roy. The last thing I needed was Jaxson storming over to my mother’s place to start shit with my wannabe step dad. After all, he had asked my mom to marry him. For my mother’s sake, I told Jax it was the first, and only time, Roy had put a hand on me like that. What I said was half true. At least, I hadn’t thought anything of it in the past.
I know one thing for sure: I’m so done with men. No matter how ruggedly handsome they may be. I promised myself, as I glanced over Jax’s body. It was nothing remarkable to find Jax attractive. Every girl did.
What I needed though was a friend. A friend who could help me out. Jax was the only person I fully trusted. He was also the only guy who I’d gotten close to that hadn’t tried to get into my pants. Unlike the rest of the MC guys around town, he respected women. Even my mom had a soft spot for Jax.
Jax and I had met not long after my father died. He was a regular at Mandy’s, and I would be stuck there every day after school, bored or doing my homework. In those days, he would head straight to the diner after his work at the club, and he would always give me a quarter, so I could entertain myself pinballing. He was still a kid himself back then – at almost eighteen years old, he sure was young to be a full member at an MC. Now at 27, he was actually their vice president. Yes, I knew he’d gotten voted in as VC for the Devils. I heard about it and to be honest, I would ask people in town about him when I came home from school on breaks.
I always thought Jax had felt sorry for mom and me. He always left mom a nice tip after every meal. Funny thing was; despite my mother’s strong objections to anything related to bikes, bikers or their clubs, whenever Jax walked, in my mom’s face would light up and she never minded motorcycle club money when it came from ‘her Jaxson.’ But then, he always had a way of turning on the charm with a butter-wouldn’t-melt smile, and warm demeanour that made him absolutely swoon-worthy.
Jax and I would eat dinner and spend part of the evening together every single day. Fortunately, the rest of his MC hardly ever came into Mandy’s as it was more of a family joint. He’d been like a big brother to me. When I left for college, he told me that if I had any problems to call, day or night, and he would come pick me up right away. I thought he’d just grown protective of me, having been friends for so long.
Jax shuffled his chair beside mine and held me against his warm chest. “I’m so sorry,” he said as he pulled me in tighter.
I had to admit, his possessiveness was sexy. It was even sexier when he slipped off his jacket and put it around me. He held me close again, wrapped his arms around my shoulders, with one hand in my hair, and pressed his lips to my forehead. I felt myself start to relax.
“I promise you this, Chloe; I won’t ever let that bastard come near you again.” Jaxson’s eyes fixed on mine reassuringly.
Jaxson always knew exactly what to say.
“You’ll have to come home with me tonight Chloe. You need a place to sleep,” Jaxson said, holding my weary gaze.
All of a sudden, I didn’t feel so calm, and a wave of questions from the rational side of my brain whirled in my mind. What am I doing? He’s a man now, and a biker. He represents everything my mother and I had tried to distance myself from all these years. It was one thing for him to eat dinner with me at Mandy’s when I was a kid, but to stay with him had to be madness, right? Everything those MC men touched ends up spoiled and corrupted.
The only problem was, the less rational of myself had a weakness for Jaxson—a weakness I secretly feared. It sent feelings cascading into my brain that fought back against logic. The longer Jax held me, the more the chaos of the day faded away, leaving me feeling calm and safe. I sighed, wishing it were that easy….
I had a nostalgic view of the past, but I didn’t really know this man. Not anymore. I hadn’t seen the guy in three years. If I left with him, I would go with a near stranger. That MC club would have broken him for sure. I should know better than anyone what those clubs can do to a man. On the other hand, I couldn’t face the prospect of leaving the bar alone tonight. Besides, where would I go?
After stewing on it for a few minutes, I came to a decision. ‘Fuck it. The Jax in front of me felt like the same upstanding guy I had known before.’ I reasoned, as I tried to wipe simmering anxiety from my mind.
I’m cold and wet and not about to spend eighty bucks on a hotel for the night – not that I even have that kind of money to spend. There was no possibility of staying anywhere else tonight. And undoubtedly, I’m safer with Jax than without him?
Jaxson turned to me and smiled, confidently. “You’re coming home with me tonight. You ready?”
Still, I didn’t answer right away. I stared at his eyes, unsure. My breath caught in my throat, my pulse kicked up a notch. Finally, I nodded, as it was too late. Jax had drawn me in with a touch and a voice so gentle, that even my logic had tamed to him. “Yes. It’s been a long day. But just for one night. Deal?” I gave him a nod and offered him a sad smile.
I slipped my arms inside of his jacket that wrapped around my shoulders, it felt warm and comforting as I could smell the hypnotic scent of his cologne even more strongly. For a moment, it was almost as if I could feel his arms wrapped around me. It was both daunting and desirable but I couldn’t decide which feeling I wanted more.
“Deal. One night…” Jax said. He took a final swig of his drink.
Just then, I saw three guys in Black Devil MC jackets stepping into the bar. “Hey, aren’t they some of your friends?”
Jax froze in place, but I didn’t know why. Without warning, he grabbed my arm without another word, threw some bills on the table, and dragged me out of the bar through the back entrance.
“Where are we going?” It felt as though he was trying to hide from them but I couldn’t be sure. Why did Jax just run from his MC Brothers? Unless, perhaps, he was trying to hide me from them.
As we ran out of the place together, I had to wonder whether this was a smart thing to do. I also worried that if Roy knew I was with Jax, he would tear his face off. Roy was a big man, with a violent temper, and he never backed down from a fight. If Jax went over there to have it out with him, it would be bloody suicide.
Outside, we came to a halt in front of his gleaming, black Harley. He thrust a helmet in my direction and mounted his bike. I climbed on behind him and wrapped my hands tight around his waist. Jax turned the headlights on to high beam and fired up the engine. It roared and purred at us. I felt him take a deep breath and his posture relaxed; the rumble of his ride starting up seemed to soothe his anger.
As we raced out of the parking lot, I barely had my helmet on and could feel the cold, wet air fly sideways into my face and sting my bloodshot eyes. The bike roared through the streets and rain pounded down like wet bullets on my body the whole way. I could barely see a thing just like when I had run to the bar, but Jax knew what he was doing. He weaved through traffic. I spent most of the journey with my head over his right shoulder, and he didn’t seem to mind at all.
Truth be told, despite the nasty weather, and the morning I’d had, I actually started to enjoy it.
“Isn’t it great?” Jax asked, as he picked up speed on the main highway.
“Yep,” I replied, simply.
Perhaps it was just the sense of relief of being safe and out of that bar, but the ride felt perfect. I felt free and alive—just Jax, the bike, the open road, and me.
Chapter Two
(Jaxson)
“You need a long, hot
bath, Chloe. You’ve had a rough night.”
As we stepped into my apartment, I eyed her wet body up and down.
Her glittering blue eyes locked with mine and she nodded in agreement.
“You already sound like you’ve caught a cold. Come on, I’m sure I’ve got some clothes that’ll fit you.” I turned and locked the door behind us.
I dumped my keys and the bike helmet on the hall cabinet. Chloe’s drenched barely-there clothes clung tightly to her body – something that usually wouldn’t bother me one bit about a woman but on her? I could feel my body start to heat up with want. And that bothered me a bit. I shouldn’t want her that way.
“I’ll just be a second,” I said, holding up my hands before I dashed to the bathroom to get the water running.
When I returned, she stood in the same place, hands and feet together her nose sniffling. It was difficult to tell whether she felt nervous to be in my apartment alone with me, or simply drained from having run to the Juanita’s in menacing weather. Either way, I knew one thing for sure—I should never have let Chloe out of my sight.
I was furious at Roy for what he’d done. He had a moral responsibility not to touch Chloe, and he did anyway like the selfish bastard he was. He was no man that was for sure. Roy had beat Chloe down and was prepared to put her through hell for his own pleasure. For that, I was determined to make him pay. However, keeping Chloe calm and safe was my first priority. I glanced around at my gloomy apartment. It was no place for a woman like her, but it would have to do.
Chloe had a listless look around the front room of my characterless, open-plan apartment. It was a small but neatly kept apartment with old melamine furniture and a grubby matted carpet; it was indeed at odds with the description in the developer’s brochure. But I’d never had the time, nor the inclination to make it any less cheerless. It was only a place to rest my head at night.
“Nothing very fancy, I know. Sit down,” I said, walking over to the kitchen table. I pulled back a wooden chair from the dining table a few paces ahead of us, and switched on the television that took pride of place at the center of the back wall. I hoped she would start to feel more comfortable.
As she sat down, I grabbed a towel from the small cupboard just outside my bedroom. Fuck. It felt coarse and crisp, with a rough texture, but it was the best I had.
Chloe took off my leather jacket and placed it on the back of her chair.
I put the towel around her. “You must be hungry,” I said, with one had on her shoulder.
“I’m starving.”
“I’ll be right back,” I said calmly and directed myself to the kitchen.
Goddamn it. Not being what you could call the domestic type and unprepared for this turn of events, there was virtually nothing for me to give Chloe to eat right away. That’s what you get for eating takeout for every meal and what you do have could hardly be made into something anyone would class as a meal.
One cupboard door after the next slammed closed as I searched.
“Are you ok?” she called from the other room.
“Yep! Hope you’re hungry,” I called back as I stared at the fantastic selection of snack foods I had to offer as a sorry substitute for a meal.
In the end, frustrated and impatient, not knowing what to choose, I brought out everything I had: black coffee, one banana, Twinkies, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup’s, toast, tortilla chips, three pickles and half a pizza from the fridge.
A slight smile came across Chloe’s face when I plonked my buffet-style offering before her at the table.
“Here ya go. I didn’t know what you would like so I brought the whole menu,” I said with a grin, in a lousy attempt to explain myself. I took a slice of pizza and a handful of tortilla chips, put them on my plate, and sat across from her at the kitchen table.
“A classic pairing,” she commented, arching an eyebrow at me, and breaking the tension.
I choked out a laugh. God, I’d missed this girl. Chloe always was a smart one…her one-liners used to crack me up every time. “Have some lunch Chloe; your bath should be nearly ready.”
She grabbed half a slice of toast and munched on it, happily.
Shit. Clothes! I got up and headed to my bedroom. Inside, I stared doubtfully at the jeans in my closet. I skimmed the hangers in vain for something she could wear on her legs before I looked over at my pile of sweatpants. I grabbed a pair of those, hoping that if she rolled them up at her waist, they might just fit, then unhooked one of my white cotton shirts from its hanger.
“I think my bath is ready,” Chloe called from the doorway to the bathroom.
I snagged a fresh towel from the cupboard and knocked on the bathroom door to hand her the towel and clothes. I stood outside, until she opened the door a few inches inch to grab them. I feel like goddamn randy teenager.
“Thanks, Jax,” she said in a weary tone.
“Take your time.” I smiled.
When she shut the door, I walked to the table and grabbed my food. I threw my body down onto the sofa in front of the television; let out a heavy breath and laid one hand back above my head.
‘Fuck. What a shitty day it had been. I exhaled loudly.
I hadn’t thought it would be possible to feel any more tense and restless than I’d felt that morning before I went to the biker’s bar. Well, wasn’t I fucking wrong? My clash with Antonio De Luca, son of the president of our MC, had been nearly catastrophic. It was an intense standoff. I had to get out of the place before that unstable nut lost it completely. Although, I knew I was only delaying the inevitable – a full-blown assault on me, when, or sometime after being elected as club president in a few days. I had a feeling even if I did get the vote, I wouldn’t enjoy my new status very long if Antonio had anything to say about it. I was hoping if he did take me out, my brothers would return the favor. Not that I feared him, but he was a slimy asshole that would ambush me or knife me in the back the first chance he got.
Bruno, the club’s president, whose sharp eye for talent had spotted me and taken me on as a prospect at seventeen, believed I was only person who could take his place. I was fairly certain that my brothers’ thought so too. Antonio, however, was in Bruno’s words, ‘a minor player and not the brains,’ in the club’s operations. No matter who the best man for the job really was, I knew that Antonio’s thirst for revenge would rear its ugly head if I were voted in.
Antonio was half my size, and two years younger than me, along with being Bruno’s only son. I would often warn my brothers’ that Antonio wasn’t kind of man you ever wanted to turn your back on. Just in case, I always kept one eye on him whenever we were in the same room. He was unnerving – period. Given the chance, Antonio would send a bullet into my chest and take pleasure in watching my life slip away. He had a charming way of killing men without guilt or remorse. He was a real dickhead that way.
Most of the time, Black Devil law was strict enough to keep Antonio in check. But no law could change the person he was inside‒a man of moral relapse and rampant selfishness. My life’s track record had been far from perfect, but at least I had a foundation of decency to build from. My mother had tried to bring me up right even if it didn’t always stick, she had tried.
My mind was begging me for five minutes of rest. I picked up the television remote and flicked over to the discovery channel as a temporary escape. It played footage of a baby zebra standing within a few minutes of birth. I’d always been astounded by that sort of thing, but it was no use.
No damn use at all.
I feel like I’m losing my fucking mind.
My head pounded with a nauseating headache. The pressure of all the shit that had gone down today thudded against the inside of my skull. My impossible problems had started a war of their own in my brain, fighting for priority.
My vow to protect Chloe was in direct conflict with my vow of loyalty and respect to my club too. And I loved them both like family. My MC had given me my job, my brotherh
ood, and my passion for bikes. The issue was, although nobody knew it, Chloe’s father had saved my life.
I sat up and bent over to my knees, pinching the bridge of my nose. I wondered whether I would have had a life worth living if Bruno De Luca hadn’t taken me on at seventeen. I was sure that answer would be a resounding no. I also knew I wouldn’t have a life at all if it hadn’t been for Chloe’s dad.
Suddenly, I imagined Chloe’s terrified face as she’d fought and wrestled in Roy’s grasp. The son-of-a-bitch would have raped her against the wall. This horrifying thought gave me the answer my mind had been searching for… Chloe is my priority. She was always my priority—no matter what.
The bathroom door opened with a creak and I snapped back into reality.
“Looking good, Chloe,” I said, as she stepped out of the bathroom in my shirt and sweatpants; and I sure as hell meant it. Damn, she looked good in my clothes. She had that kind of curvy, toned figure that every guy dreams of fucking and every woman dreams of having.
I had to wonder, did she realize how damn hot she’d gotten? Back at the bar, I bet she thought I gave her my jacket because she was cold, but that wasn’t the only reason. Her white tank top was so drenched it had gone practically see-through. It wasn’t a day for her to be wearing a black and pink polka-dot bra. I had to give her my jacket so those sleazy motherfuckers in the place didn’t see any more of her than they already had.
“Feeling good, Jax,” she replied with a forced smile, her voice laced with nervousness.
I knew what she was doing. Chloe was a smart young woman, but I could always tell when she was hurting inside. I knew her too well for her to be able to fake anything.
“Jax, I was thinking. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with—”
“You’ve had an emotional day,” I interrupted her protest and patted the space on the sofa next to me.
