by Ana Jolene
“I’m back,” I told him as reassurance, holding tight. “I’m home.” And I’d never been so happy to return.
Pulling back, I realized that the rest of Glory MC was looking on. Various expressions welcomed me. Some were hostile. Some were genuinely happy to see me. Others, like Hastie at first, were stunned. “I couldn’t get a hold of you,” I told Hastie. “Things turned out to be worse than I thought.”
Sympathy filtered through his eyes. “Shit, man. I’m sorry.”
The prez of Glory MC stepped forward, looking none too happy about seeing me. “I said a fucking week, prospect. What didn’t you understand about that?”
Prospect? I hadn’t been a prospect for months. I let the confusion filter through my expression before I understood. Because of my irresponsibility and disappearance, in Knuckle’s eyes, I’d been demoted. The words pained me more than my bloody lip. For a lot of us, rank meant everything in the club.
“I fucked up,” I admitted. I saw no reason to argue with him. We had agreed to a week and I had surpassed that by more than double the agreed upon terms. I hadn’t called, hadn’t reached out. I had failed the club.
“Damn right you did,” Knuckle went on, grabbing the nearest chair and parking his ass on it. Even sitting, his presence filled the bar, garnering attention from all corners. “I made you secretary and treasurer. Are you gonna make me regret it?”
“No.” I always thought that the club came first in all situations, but that hadn’t been true. One letter from Dex uncovered the one thing that would possibly always be more important to me: Lennon.
“What the fuck happened?”
I breathed out, knowing the hollowness in my chest could be heard in my words. “Shit’s fucked. It took more than a week to clean it up.”
Knuckle snorted. “Clearly.”
“Hey,” Hastie snapped. “He cleared it up and he’s back, right?”
I nodded.
“As long as you’re back for good, we can move on from this.”
My eyes slid to Knuckle who seemed to have the most problem with this. The way he eyed me made me feel like he was dissecting me right through the middle, as if he could prod and poke at my insides and learn what it was that was making me tick. “You’re a good brother, but fuck if you had us worried there.”
“Sorry.”
“I looked for you,” Hastie remarked. “Not even a trace.”
I laughed dryly. “Yeah, well, when you said you didn’t want any of this blowing back on the club, I took that to heart.”
“You sure everything is fine now?”
“I’m good,” I lied.
“All right.” Hastie seemed to believe it. “But there is a little matter we have to discuss with you.”
Knuckle barked out a laugh then and stood up, patting Hastie on the shoulder. “I’ll leave that to you,” he said before leaving, the rest of Glory MC going with him. Only Hastie and Kitt lingered. Beck went to the bar to grab some drinks.
When he returned, Indy was with him. She found her way into Hastie’s arms, kissing him once on the lips. “I’m off,” she told him as she tossed me a clean napkin.
Catching it in the air, I used it to dab lightly on my busted-up lip. Seven approached then, her lips thinned into a straight line. I braced myself for some snarky remark but miraculously, there wasn’t a trace when she said, “I really thought they kicked you out.”
“Disappointed?” I asked with an arch of my brow.
When she nodded, I couldn’t stop my bark of laughter.
“So what’s the thing you have to tell me?” I asked Hastie when I got most of the blood off. There had been an alarming amount of it, but it was nothing that wouldn’t heal.
“It’s about your apartment.”
“What about it?”
“We sold it.”
I gaped. “Why the fuck would you do that?”
“We agreed to a week, Lucky. You were gone for two fucking months. We thought you were dead.”
Dead? “Things just got complicated.”
“You didn’t call. Didn’t text. We didn’t even know how to reach you.”
“Things got complicated,” I repeated.
“Yeah, well. Since you didn’t die, you’ll need to find another place to live.”
Great. I was dead on my feet and didn’t even have a place to rest my head for the night. “Can’t I crash with you for a few days until I find something?” Hastie’s cheeks suddenly got red and his eyes couldn’t quite meet mine. “What?” I asked when everyone stared at me.
“Actually, no.” At my confused look, Hastie continued. “Indy is moving in with me. We’ve been moving her stuff slowly for the past week.”
Whoa. Talk about commitment. Hastie was really taking this relationship seriously. In all the time I knew him, he’d never let a woman into his home. But I wasn’t a fool to think Indy was just any woman; Hastie loved her. Masking my surprise, I shot Indy a smile. “Wow, that’s fucking awesome.”
“Well, you can still stay if you want . . .” she started but I cut in.
“Nah. I’ve had enough torture these past weeks.”
“But that means my room has freed up. Why don’t you move in with Seven?” she suggested.
My eyes grew wide with horror as the idea settled in. There was just no way. A better suggestion would be to move in with the Slashers in Westborough where the Ward’s garbage was dumped. Seven would just chew me up and spit me out. Thankfully, I wasn’t the only one opposed to this idea.
“Are you fucking crazy?” Seven shouted. “You can’t offer him your room! What if I want to live by myself?”
“Oh come on,” Indy said. “Lucky needs a place to stay for a few weeks until he can find someplace new.”
“He can do that at Hastie’s place, with him. You can just stay with me until then!”
“Seven.”
“Indy!” Seven cried. “What happened to sticking together like pages in a porn magazine?”
I exchanged awkward looks with the guys at the analogy and found myself cracking up. “Is the idea of living with me that horrendous to you?”
“Yes!” she exclaimed. Ooh, there was such anger in her words. I loved riling her up. Suddenly, I liked the idea.
On the rare occasions I had visited their home, I had enjoyed myself. There was enough space for the both of us that we would not cross paths during the day. Plus, it was a lot better than the shithole I’d been living in for the past two months. Another bonus was that it was also close to Neptune’s. And since Seven wouldn’t give me the chance to speak with her privately, this became an opportunity I wouldn’t waste. I just had to convince her to let me stay with her.
Moving towards her, I witnessed the widening of her eyes. Since she had gone to sit in a chair, it made for the perfect height as I dropped to one knee. I grabbed her hand and placed my own over hers. Seven immediately squirmed out of my reach and I had to forcefully hold her hand in place. When she settled a little, I rubbed my thumb along that sensitive part of her wrist. Those cerulean blue eyes narrowed to slits. “What are you doing?” Her eyes lifted to meet the curious gazes of the audience we had gained.
“You have beautiful eyes,” I murmured lovingly.
Those eyes in question gave an exaggerated roll. “Don’t try to be charming.”
“I’m being honest, not charming.” It was true. Her eyes really were incomparable. “But I’m sure I’m not the first man to say those words to you.”
Her parted lips pressed into a thin line as she sought Indy out, seeking help as momentary panic took control. I kept my steady gaze on her. And just as I had suspected, her gaze eventually magnetized to mine.
“Come on, baby,” I said in a low seductive voice. “You wouldn’t leave me out on the streets, would you?”
“I would.”
“I promise I won’t be a bother.”
She huffed. “We both know that’s the biggest fucking lie.”
Damn. She was like stone, hard
to crack. Why wasn’t my charm working on her? There had to be something Seven wanted. And then I remembered something. “That generator you have. I’ll fix it if I can stay.”
Seven shook her head. “Hastie’s seen it. Said it can’t be fixed.”
“Hastie doesn’t know shit about fixing things.” Behind me, my best friend protested. I ignored him, focusing solely on Seven. “Come on, it’ll be a week or two, tops.” And this time I actually meant two weeks. Not two months.
Seven stared at me, displeased and unimpressed. But then her lips parted and she said, “I have an old gas oven in the basement. Do you think you can fix that too?”
“Absolutely.”
“But you haven’t even seen it yet.”
“I’m good with my hands.”
Cue another rolling of the eyes. She was actually getting quite good at that. I flashed her my most adorable grin. “So, what do you say?”
“Fine,” she muttered. Yes! I couldn’t help myself. I kissed her. Hard. “Ugh!” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Are you happy now? You got what you wanted. Now get out of my face.” She gave one forceful push that had me fighting for balance.
Kitt laughed as Seven stormed out. Turning, I smiled at Indy. “Thanks for the suggestion.”
Indy looked worried. “Please don’t make my best friend hate me.”
“I’ll be on my best behavior,” I vowed with a hand on my heart.
Kitt chuckled before taking a pull of his beer. “Two months and I thought you had lost your charm for a second there.”
I winked before taking the celebratory shot he offered. “Me too.”
Seven liked to posture, but no matter how much groveling I did, she was a strong-willed woman. If she didn’t really want me around, she wouldn’t have said yes. So what if I had to get on my knees and sweat a bit? At least I was now in the perfect position to settle the unfinished business I had with her.
The burn of alcohol raced through my system. Now it would be just me and her. A lion’s smile spread over my lips.
I had her right where I wanted her.
FIVE
A Thing Called Revenge
Seven
“You’re a fucking idiot,” I told my reflection in the mirror. “A goddamn idiot.” Bobby pin in my mouth, I twisted my hair up into a simple high ponytail and made a bun, using the pin to clip it all in place. I wiped underneath my eyes, rubbing at the permanent darkness that seemed to linger there in the past few months. Leaning into the mirror, I checked my teeth, pulling out some floss and making sure I got into all the nooks and crannies. That done, I took a deep breath and realized what I was doing. I was procrastinating.
Lucky was expected to arrive any moment now but I was doing my damnedest to pretend that wasn’t the case. His infamous charm had lasered into me earlier, incinerating my resolve into ashes as if it were nothing. And Indy, the traitor, had set me up! I almost didn’t know who to hate more.
Peeved, I exited the bathroom and crossed the short hallway to Indy’s old room. It had been cleaned out, leaving no trace of my bipolar roomie who used to tack pages and pages of her writing onto the walls. They were bare now. Now only a single picture frame was hanging on the wall. As destructive as her habits were, they were an important part of Indy and I never let that stop me from caring about her. I was happy she was moving in with Hastie, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t miss having her as a roommate.
The twin bed she slept on was now stripped of its bedding. Smiling, I moved to grab the clean pink sheets that I had picked out earlier.
I knew this fact: Bikers had an aversion to the color pink, which was my reason for choosing this particular color in the first place. In a moment of weakness, I’d caved into Lucky’s ministrations. But that didn’t mean I had to lie back and allow him to turn my world upside down again. Bikers rarely played by the rules. Who said I had to either?
After making the bed, I walked over to the small bedside table. On it laid a small bottle of lavender oil. It was actually one of Indy’s belongings. She had a habit of spraying her sheets with the floral scent but must’ve forgotten it here when she had moved her stuff out.
Taking the bottle in my hand, I spritz a small amount of it onto the sheets, coughing a little when some of it ran up my nose. I wasn’t a big fan of the scent, but not because it didn’t smell pleasant to my olfactory senses but because the scent triggered memories from my childhood that I would much prefer stay in the past.
My mother had also loved lavender. Whenever work had her away for more than a few days, I’d watch her spray the fragrance over my father’s pillow. She said it was so that he would think of her while she was away. Thinking back, it was a sweet memory. But what she hadn’t known was that Dad was already cheating on her with another woman for the better part of the year.
The bitter feelings associated with the scent tried to claw at me. But I forced myself to concentrate on the task at hand.
The lace curtains were pulled back to reveal an empty sky but for the moon. Walking over to draw the curtains closed, I allowed myself to admire the view for a second. The moon cast a pale glow over the sparse buildings, the exterior worn and faded from the intense heat. The solar flares had seemed to settle for now; we hadn’t had one for a while. But there was always a trace of humidity regardless of whether the sun was in view or not. I had left the window open halfway earlier, hoping some cooler air would breeze in.
Motion in the corner of my eye caught my attention. Frowning, I leaned in, looking to see if maybe Lucky had already arrived. Through the darkness, there was nothing I could see apart from the stars. But I could have sworn there was something lurking in the shadows. Perhaps it was a trick of the light? Or the wind?
Spooked, I shut the window and drew the curtains closed, beating feet towards the kitchen. There were knives there. And it was also the place where I felt the safest. My kitchen utensils were considered mundane inanimate objects, but in my hands, they made me feel powerful. I learned early on in my cooking career that I could make something out of nothing and bring happiness to people on a single platter.
I was fixing myself a quick drink when my mind traced back to older times. Before the first of the solar flares six years ago, I had big dreams. I wanted to own my own restaurant. As young and naïve as I was, so were my ambitions at the time. Since then, those dreams had dashed away, replaced with the sobering realization that it would never happen. The onset of the solar flares destroyed our world right before our eyes, purging humanity at an incredible speed. Because of the intense heat, it was difficult to grow or harvest food. I understood the impossibility of a bright future for myself when food became more and more difficult to obtain in the post-flare world.
Loud pounding on the door made me jump. “Seven?” Lucky called from outside. “Open up!”
I groaned even as relief coursed through me. So it had been Lucky who was lurking outside. “And the nightmare begins . . .” I muttered to myself as I shuffled to the front door. Opening it, a large forest green duffle bag came at me. I was forced to catch it or be squished to death. “Oof!”
“Thanks. Be right back,” Lucky said as the sounds of his retreating footsteps echoed in the empty night. The duffle bag was big, bulky, and heavy as hell. I did a little waddling towards the living room to set it down before my stick legs snapped from the weight. Without any care, I dropped it and heard a loud crack. Oops! Hope that hadn’t been important.
Lucky came through the door then, carrying two more big bags in either hand. He used his boot to kick the door shut and walked straight into the living room. “Watch where you’re stepping! You’re getting shit on the floors!”
He looked down, noticed that he had indeed made a trail of dirt, and toed off his boots one by one. “So where am I sleeping?”
“You’ve got two options,” I told him, holding up two corresponding fingers. “You can sleep down here, on the couch. Or you can sleep upstairs.”
Before I had fini
shed talking, Lucky was already taking the steps two at a time. I tried not to notice the way his arms bulged with carrying such a heavy load. Or the way his thighs looked massive in his blue jeans. He looked so comfortable in his own skin. Dressed in a black T-shirt that molded to this torso, I had to admit that the sight wasn’t disgusting. What would Lucky look like without his shirt on?
When his growling voice echoed from upstairs, I barely suppressed my laughter. “Oh, hell no,” Lucky griped. “You can’t be serious!” I climbed up the stairs, stopping at the top where Lucky stood, bags still in his hands as he eyed his new accommodations. His expression said it all. “What the hell is that smell?”
“It’s lavender,” I explained. “Helps with relaxation.”
“Are you crazy?”
I shrugged. “Indy likes it.”
“I am really questioning her taste right now,” he shot back. “And what the fuck is this?” He gestured to the baby pink bed.
“It’s your new sleeping quarters, secretary.”
“Fuck that! I’m not sleeping in a pink bed!”
I smiled. “Rethinking your stay?”
“What?” He shot me a dirty glance. “No. I’ll just sleep on the couch.”
“That’s fine by me.” The farther away he was, the better.
Lucky did an about-face and marched back down the stairs, but not before he shot me another scathing glare in my direction. Normally, I would help anyone who was staying at my place get settled. But instead I walked to my own bedroom and shut the door behind me.
I didn’t want Lucky getting any ideas that we were going to be friends while he stayed here. For as long as he was going to be here, I would make every day miserable for him so that he’d never try to manipulate me again. A smile curled my lips. I was going to make Lucky’s life a living hell.
Lucky
“Fucking flowers.” I dropped my duffel bags beside the couch. My nose was still itching from the strong scent upstairs. Who the hell even used that shit? Clean sheets were clean. Why mess them up by spraying shit all over it?
