by Jayne Blue
Maybe Roy had been watching all day. Maybe he knew another guy had come to see me. The implications of that turned my blood to ice as I pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward home.
Chapter Five
Colt
I was done for. Fuck. That girl just hit every button I had. Smart. Sexy. Pretending like she wasn’t into me when I knew damn well she was. I saw that look in her eye and the way her lips trembled when I leaned in close to her. If I did nothing else while I was back in Lincolnshire, I was going to make it my sole purpose in life to get her right where I wanted her, under me and begging for it.
Now I just had to figure out how to close the deal. She hadn’t said no when I asked her out so I would just have to press her on it. I didn’t want to wait three days until Friday but didn’t see much choice. I promised Jase I’d head over for dinner. After that, I needed to start squaring things away at the club.
The old neighborhood hadn’t changed at all. When I made the turn down Tucker Street it gave my heart a tug. I learned how to ride a bike on these sidewalks. My mom ran behind me while my pop stood on the porch with a beer in his hand.
I pulled into Jase’s driveway. When he moved out, he hadn’t gone far. He bought the house directly across the street. It belonged to Fred and Judy Dingman. The Dingmans had pretty much been second parents to us. My mom had always worked two or three jobs and Pop . . . well, he didn’t. Jase bought it so he could keep an eye on Mom. He wanted to be there in case Pop tried to hurt her again.
In his prime, my father was the meanest drunk I’d ever seen. This is saying something as I’ve spent most of my life around some pretty bad ones. Jase and I got good at dodging fists and anything else Pop could find to throw at us. It kept him occupied though. By the time we hit double-digit birthdays, we figured out it would keep him from going after Mom.
Jase met me outside. Except for the buzz cut, he looked better in a regular t-shirt and jeans instead of that damn cop uniform. He shook my hand and we walked through the garage straight into the kitchen. I’d been in this house almost as many times as my own. Judy Dingman collected ceramic cats because Fred was allergic to the real thing. Jase had mercifully gotten rid of them, but the kitchen was still painted an odd mix of purple and green. I found it both oddly comforting and fucked up.
Jase smiled when he saw me looking. “I just didn’t have the heart to change it. Don’t you remember how they would bicker about it?”
I laughed. “Until just this second I’d forgotten.”
“You blind, Judy?” I said, doing my best nasally Fred Dingman impression.
“Stuff it, Fred. I got the idea straight out of a magazine.” Jase mimicked Judy’s accent perfectly. She had been a Yooper and pronounced everything with long vowels so “magazine” sounded like “may-ga-zine.”
We said Fred’s line together. “Yeah, Blinder Homes and Gardens.”
“Fuck,” I said. Fred and Judy’s had been our go-to place to crash when things got too heavy at home. They had to know what was going on but never pried. Until we spent time under their roof, I’d never known a married couple could have a disagreement that didn’t end in shit getting broken or the cops being called. Or worse.
“You can have Chelsea’s old room tonight,” Jase said. Chelsea had been the Dingmans’ only daughter. Shit. There was someone else I hadn’t thought about in years. Red hair, big tits, killer legs, luscious mouth. My cock stirred just thinking about her.
“Every time Mom used to call me she’d ask if I’d run into Chelsea. She never got that even though they’re in the same state, Green Bluff’s five hundred miles away from San Diego.”
Jase got quiet. He opened his fridge and pulled out two bottled beers, handing me one. I tipped mine to him before twisting off the cap. Then we took a seat at his kitchen table. It was nice what he’d done with the place from what I could see. He’d refinished the floors, taking out Judy’s hideous green shag carpet, leaving damn near gleaming hardwood underneath.
“You know I offered to set Mom up in Cali, right?” I asked, after taking two long swigs of my beer.
Jase shrugged, fingering the gold label at the neck of his bottle. “She should have gone. She kept saying she was going to go, at least to visit. But there was always some excuse.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Dad was sick. The dog died. The Dingmans died. She couldn’t get off work. Yeah. I heard them all.”
“You could have come back more,” Jase said. The implication caused my blood to simmer. One beer wasn’t going to even begin to cover this conversation. I finished the rest of mine and set it on the table.
“She was never gonna leave him. And she knew not to get in a fucking car with him. I don’t blame you for not stopping her. Don’t blame me for it either. I loved Mom. You know I’d have killed for her. But I wasn’t going to keep living my life for her. You shouldn’t have either.”
Jase finished his own beer and set it on the table. “Yeah. I know that. I’m sorry. You hooked up with the Lincolnshire chapter now?”
I didn’t like the accusation in his eyes on that one either. Something was wrong. Jase never liked the Great Wolves but his eyes flashed real hatred at the mention of them now. The answer to his question was definitely more than a one-beer conversation. I thought about which version of the truth was going to piss Jase off the least.
“They’re no good for this town, Colt,” he said. “There are things I’ve got to swallow because of how they operate and who runs Lincolnshire. But I swear to God, I’m not going to have my brother throw in with that shit and keep looking the other way.”
I narrowed my eyes and sat back. I didn’t know where all this was coming from. I sure as shit didn’t like the direction it was going so I changed the subject.
“It was time for a change,” I said. “Things are going pretty good in Green Bluff. The charter’s taking some new directions. Legit shit, Jase.”
Jase’s side eye wasn’t making me feel like he believed me. He put a hand up. “I think the less I know about what goes on with that club, the better off for both of us.”
I wanted to set him straight. “Since my generation started taking over the charters, the Great Wolves M.C. isn’t what it used to be. We’ve made big money . . . legit money . . . running the Wolf Den and Great Wolves Gym. The gym is by far our biggest money maker. A lot of our charter towns are like Lincolnshire, Jase. Automotive towns hit hard. We buy out these shelled-out factories and plants and convert ’em into state-of-the-art training facilities. We sponsor MMA fighters. We’ve had some league champions. What if I told you I wanted to bring that here?”
He shook his head. “I’d say you’re fucking dreaming. You think Catman’s ever going to give up his golden fucking goose?”
Again, I had no idea what the fuck he was talking about. There was nothing golden about Lincolnshire, anywhere. But I couldn’t really fault Jase’s skepticism. He’d heard versions of it all before. I hadn’t always given him reasons to have faith in me. He was the good brother. The All-State high school quarterback and wrestling captain. Now, the cop. Jase studied hard, I partied hard.
He followed all the right paths to get out from under the crap we were raised with. I followed all the wrong ones. It was petty shit at first. Drinking. Pot. Smashing store windows. Shoplifting. Whatever I could do to raise a little hell. Then I started hanging around the Great Wolves crowd and finally felt like I belonged. Every one of them had a home life just like mine. They understood me. No bullshit. No expectations except to have each other’s backs. When the opportunity came to light out of Lincolnshire and ride west as soon as I got patched in, I took it and barely looked back.
But hellraising gets old. When Sly Cullinan took over the Green Bluff charter, he opened my eyes to a new way to live. No more illegal shit. We turned things around and built something strong enough to last for our kids and grandkids. I wanted to share that with Jase now but I knew it was going to take more than just words to get him there.
He nodded. Something flickered behind his dark eyes. I knew he wanted to believe me and I was just hoping he’d give me the chance to prove it.
Jase spun his empty beer bottle on the table. “Well, you might be in for a hell of a homecoming from that crew of yours. That’s all I’m saying.”
“What, more than the one you gave me?” I pointed to the new pink scar on my forehead.
“Yeah, well, I might have just done you a bigger favor than you realize. Let’s just say there’s no love lost between me and that crowd. You need to watch yourself. Having a cop for a brother isn’t going to help you win any popularity contests with your hometown boys, Colt.”
“Thanks for the tip,” I said. “But I’m not worried. I wouldn’t have come back here with you if I were. And thanks again for that. You can’t really take credit for it. It was gravity and the damn curb. You’re still too much of a pussy to throw a proper punch.”
Jase let out a sigh. “You know you can stay here anytime you need. I’ve got the spare room,” he said. “Chelsea’s old one. I’m pretty sure you know where to find it.”
A slow smirk spread over Jase’s face. Yeah. I knew where to find Chelsea Dingman’s old room. She and I both lost our virginity in it. Thing is, so had Jase.
“Damn,” I said. “Maybe I should have looked her up when she got to San Diego. It would have been worth the five-hundred-mile drive.”
Jase cracked his first genuine smile and things got easy between us again. I didn’t dare to hope it would last, but I’d take what I could get. We spent the next couple of hours swigging beers and catching up on neighborhood shit. It was good. It felt right.
Chapter Six
I crashed in Chelsea Dingman’s old room. Jase had mercifully taken down the Backstreet Boys posters from the walls and replaced them with testosterone-friendly blue paint. We drank well into the night, laughing our asses off at crazy shit we did when we were kids.
I woke up to a killer hangover when my phone vibrated, and I hoped like crazy it was Amy. I put my contact in her phone, banking on the fact that her curiosity and hormones might get her to reach out and touch. Fuck. I’d dreamt about her. I had visions of her keeping me after school and me bending her over a desk. My hopes and boner got dashed when I looked at the caller I.D. though.
Kellan.
“Hey, man, what’s up?” I answered.
“Nothing major. You ready to work?”
“Fuck. What time is it?”
“Late,” he said. “Why don’t you haul ass over to my place and we’ll ride out together.”
I agreed, wondering what the hell work for Catman was going to entail. From Jase’s hostility last night, I didn’t expect I was going to like it.
“Catman wants me to take you around town on some of my rounds tomorrow. Help you get reacclimated to how we run things.”
Yeah, this definitely sounded like something I’d hate. For now, though, I’d have to play things Catman’s way. It looked like he was going to make me jump through a few of his fucking hoops. Fine. I’d been in this club for almost half my life. He might make me squirm a little, but everything was going to work out. Jase was blood, but these were my brothers.
“Yeah. No problem. Be there in half an hour.”
“Got it,” Kellan said. “How’s everything in your old neighborhood?”
“Different and the same,” I said. “How the hell’s your old man, by the way?”
Silence from Kellan before he answered. “Good now that he moved down to Florida. Shacked up with some real estate agent he met online a few years ago. She offered to buy him a plane ticket down there, and he never came back. Haven’t heard from him in almost two years.”
“Shit. You got off easy.” Kellan and his sister had worked their way through a few foster homes when we were kids on account of his old man’s handiwork with his fists. His mom couldn’t handle it and took off before he hit puberty. God, my mom would probably still be alive if she’d had the courage to do the same.
When I headed out to the kitchen, Jase had already left. He said he had court in the morning. I headed out the back door into the Dingmans’—now Jase’s—yard. The screen door creaked as I let it shut behind me. I headed over to the wide tree stump in the middle of the yard. It belonged to a massive weeping willow Jase and I used to climb. My father and Fred Dingman sawed through it one night and two months after that, the basement wall caved in from water seepage.
I took a breath and pulled my phone out of my back pocket. I pulled up my contacts. Amy’s was right at the top. Had I given her long enough? I decided I didn’t give a damn how long was long enough. I was calling this girl and hopefully getting her to meet me yet tonight. I needed to see her.
I tapped the screen and pulled up the message app. She’d know it was me because I put my contact in along with a screenshot of my eyes with a raised brow where my bandage was. The one that matched her own. My thumbs hovered over the screen.
“Can’t stop thinking about you.”
I hit send and waited. The cursor blinked for about thirty seconds.
“Then you probably have a concussion. You looked pretty rough the other day.”
A slow smile spread across my face. I ran a hand through my hair and looked up toward the house. I looked back at my phone screen.
“Let me come get you. You can watch me and make sure I don’t sleep too much.”
Fuck. The second I sent it, I knew how bad I wanted to make it happen. I wanted to do a thousand things to Amy and keep her up all night with me.
“Who’s going to watch me?” she texted back.
Seriously fuck. My balls tightened just thinking about it. I needed to find my own place and quick. It might be too much of a dick move to ask Jase or Kellan to clear out for a night this soon after I blew into town. But, shit, I needed this girl. I shook my head and texted back.
“Baby, I’ll never take my eyes off you. I mean it. I need to see you again.”
“It’s still a school night,” she texted back.
“I’ll write you a note in the morning.”
The cursor blinked for twenty more seconds. It felt like an eternity.
“Very funny. Seriously. It’s not a good idea.”
Shit. She was starting to back down. I needed to be in the same room with her. I knew that look in her eyes, the way her breath quickened when I leaned in close. She could second guess herself too much over the phone. If I was with her, I knew she’d have to start giving into what we both felt so hard.
“It’s a great idea. You know it is.”
She hesitated. God, what I wouldn’t give to reach through the phone and pull her close right then. She might stiffen at first but when I ran my lips over the line of her jaw, feathering my tongue over the column of her throat, her body would curve toward mine.
“I have to go. Thanks again for bringing me back my phone.”
“Amy, when can I see you?” I pressed send and waited.
The cursor blinked and blinked. A minute passed. Two. Shit. She was gone.
***
I pulled into Kellan’s place just after nine o’clock. He parked his Harley right out front; that surprised me. It wasn’t the shittiest part of town but it sure as hell wasn’t the best. He lived in a small white ranch with black shutters and a red door. I knocked once and heard him shout to come in from the other side of the house.
The place was neat for a single guy. No fast food containers or beer cans laying around. I poked my head in the kitchen. The granite counters were wiped clean, no dirty dishes in sight.
“Back here,” Kel
lan shouted from down the hallway. I heard running water turn off and a shower door close. A minute later, the hall door opened, and Kellan came out.
I let out a hard exhale at what I saw. Shit. He’d adapted so well. I’d only seen him wearing jeans for the past few days. I never would have guessed. Kellan stood in front of me with a towel draped around his hips. He had hard muscles and snaking colorful tattoos across his ripped chest. He wasn’t the kid I left fifteen years ago. He was a hardened man with battle scars I couldn’t even begin to fathom. My eyes went first to what he held in his right hand. It was a silver cane. His towel hung low, and there was nothing there on the right side where his leg should be.
I swallowed hard enough to make my ears pop. I could look away, act like what I saw didn’t shock me. But it did, and to pretend it didn’t would have disrespected the both of us.
“How?” I finally said.
Kellan shrugged. “You know, I flat out forgot you didn’t know.”
I took a seat on the living room couch as Kellan walked out with the cane. His prosthesis leaned against the wall. A titanium leg with the motorcycle boot he wore the other day fastened to the bottom. He sat on the chair opposite me and pulled the towel up a little. His leg was gone just below the knee, leaving behind a smooth stump. I saw a deep scar running along his muscled thigh just above it. It was smooth and healed now, cutting into the hard muscles of his thigh. The extent of the injury must have damn near killed him.
“I did five years in the army,” he explained. “Deployed from 2008 to 2010 when this happened. I.E.D. hit my transport. We were lucky. I lost this, another guy lost both arms, but we all came home. Not in one piece. But alive.”
“I didn’t know you enlisted. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Kellan shrugged. “I don’t know. At the time, pretty much everyone I told tried to talk me out of it. I got tired of explaining myself. Then, after I left for basic, there just wasn’t time anymore. Then I was overseas.”
