Quietly, not wanting to disturb him, I started to brew some coffee. I wanted to cook him breakfast as well, but I feared starting it too early, only for him to wake up to some cold bacon and eggs. That wasn’t the kind of thanks that I wanted to give him.
Fortunately, that issue got resolved when the snoring stopped a couple of seconds after I had finished pouring my cup. I took that as my cue to start prepping breakfast for him, and I went crazy in my kitchen. I made an omelet with bacon, mushrooms, and American cheese; I made an additional six slices of bacon; I cooked two thick, large sausage links; and then, to top it off, I prepared some pancakes. Parker could say many things about me, but he definitely couldn’t say that I had not prepared a bountiful meal for him.
I put all the plates out, walked over to him, and rubbed him.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m up,” he groused. “Ain’t really a mornin’ person though.”
“You might change your mind when you see what’s on the table.”
Parker sniffed the air before he opened his eyes. It was like he followed his nose more than his line of sight, and when he turned back to me, it seemed the aroma of freshly cooked meat had woken him up more than the coffee had woken me up.
“Damn, ya did that?”
“For you,” I said. “You’ve saved my life twice now. It’s the least that I could do.”
Parker looked back, chuckled, and then came over and kissed me before pulling me in close. Perhaps it was a little presumptuous of a kiss, given we hadn’t exactly discussed where we stood; or, perhaps, it was well deserved for all that he’d done for me.
“You are a true saint,” he said. “I ain’t ever seen a breakfast plate this big without it costin’ like fifty bucks.”
“On the house here,” I said. “Come on.”
Parker sat across from me while I ate some oatmeal with blueberries and pistachios. Watching Parker eat his food was truly a sight to behold; he was an absolute beast in how much and how quickly he ate, and within what felt like less than five minutes, all of the omelet, bacon, and sausage was gone, down to only his pancakes.
“Goodness,” I said in shock. “Don’t get sick on me!”
“You have nothing to worry about,” he said with a chuckle. “These pancakes might gimme a sugar comma, but it’ll be worth it.”
And then he gazed into my eyes until he knew I was paying attention to him.
“Like you are.”
I blushed and turned my eyes down.
“Parker…”
“I know ya ignore me after everythin’ that happened, and maybe so. But I know what ya said on the call. Ya said that you liked me.”
There was no getting around it. That was true.
“Why’d ya hang up so quickly after?” he asked.
The truth?
“I thought it wouldn’t be a good look if you heard me at the clubhouse of the Kings,” I said. “But I’m sure there was a part of me that was a little afraid to just speak the truth. And when I did, it was like I wanted to shut down out of fear. Like I had blurted out too much.”
“Hmm.”
“I dunno. I’ll admit it just started as a casual release for me. But I can’t get you off my mind, Parker. You stick around, and I know it’s not very professional, but—”
“Who gives a damn shit about what’s professional and not?” Parker scoffed as he devoured one of the pancakes. “I like ya, and ya like me. If ya go back to Los Angeles, guess what? Ain’t no more conflict of interest. Yeah, ya might have to come up here and I might have to go down there, but it ain’t like ya movin’ to Phoenix. You’d be thirty minutes away.”
“Assuming you don’t hit traffic.”
“That’s cute, ya think I’d come down durin’ normal rush hour traffic.”
“Is there any non-rush hour traffic in LA?”
“Touche. But seriously, Liza. I ain’t scared in the…”
He caught himself.
“Listen, I ain’t good at expressin’ feelings of doubt n’ shit. I’m trained to put that all to the side so I can focus on what matters. But, shit, well, I’m scared in a good way. Scared of what might happen. But it’s a good fear. Ya know?”
“I know,” I said with a smile.
It wasn’t a fear I’d felt in several months. But it was a lot nicer, a lot deeper, to have this fear than it was to have a simple orgasm.
“Unfortunately, we got a buncha assholes in the Anarchists who ain’t just gonna roll over. So this is my proposal. We focus on ‘em until they’re beaten or gone enough away we ain’t gotta worry ‘bout ‘em for a bit. Once that’s done, then we can try this out. Cool?”
I didn’t need to hear him say it twice.
“Cool,” I said, laughing as he finished his last two pancakes simultaneously. “OK, now I’m really concerned about how much you’re eating.”
“You ain’t get to be like me by not eatin’ a whole lotta food!”
And you ain’t get to be like Parker without doing things his way.
But you know what? That usually works out for the best.
So let’s do it your way, Parker. Let’s see what happens.
3
Parker
Truth be told, I was tired as fuck after breakfast. I wanted a nap, or at least sex.
But Brock had sent me a message to come as soon as I woke up. And while I might have flaunted club rules in the past and would in the future, this was pretty much the worst time to try and get away with something. There was zero chance I was going to do anything so audacious and so stupid.
Leaving Liza behind sucked as well. The conversation we’d just had had provided one of the most enlightening and honest moments I’d had in a while—Lord knows us Marines didn’t dig deep into our feelings very often, and I hadn’t let any women close to me in some time whom I could be sharing my feelings with.
But in due time, the Anarchists would be gone. And long distance might’ve sucked for some, but not when I had the freedom to go to Los Angeles whenever I wanted to. Conflict of interest my ass. Only thing we’ll be having is a conviction of interest in each other.
Those thoughts would have to wait for a bit, though. I had a meeting with the boys to get to, and it was going to be an awfully satisfying meeting knowing what awaited me inside.
When I parked my bike just outside the clubhouse, Brock came out with something in his hands. I had a pretty good idea of what it was, but I didn’t wanna jinx it.
“Whatcha got there, kid?” I said.
Brock chuckled.
“You realize you’re barely older than me, right?”
“Ya realize I call everyone kid, right?”
“Yeah. You’re lucky. You earned this back.”
Brock came up to me, held his arms out, and let me take my Savage Kings cut back.
God bless Brock and every single man alive outside of the Anarchists, it felt so fucking good to have that back. The silky, smooth blackness; the symbol of the crown with blood on it; the patch that said “Sergeant in Arms” on it… I mean, this was my uniform. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that I felt naked without it. And now that I had it back…
“Oh, God,” I said, holding it close to my face, as if I could smell an old lover’s scent on it. Which, in the metaphorical sense, was true—it smelled like the oil and gasoline of the lover that was the Savage Kings. “I missed this thing so damn much.”
“Yeah, don’t get too sentimental, don’t forget you’re here for a meeting,” Brock said, patting my arm.
“Give a man a moment, will ya?” I said with a smirk. “Not every day ya get to see me sentimental. Figured ya might wanna relish it.”
Brock rolled his eyes in playful jest. I took an exaggerated whiff of the cloth before I threw it back on. Now I felt like a goddamn Savage King. Now I wasn’t just a lone vigilante, but a man in a brotherhood. This—this felt fucking right.
“Now this is what I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” I said.
“Good, you’ve talked about it, let’s
go.”
I muttered something about how I was never going to shut up, just so that I could annoy Brock a little longer. I loved that our president didn’t take offense to that, and in fact seemed quite delighted that he had his SOA back as he was before. The only question remaining was how the rest of the club would react.
“Parker!” Zane shouted as I entered the meeting hall.
Looks like I didn’t have anything to worry about.
“Yah, yah, I’m back from the dead, your Lord and savior has risen, yay,” I said as I shook hands with all of the other officers.
“Don’t let your head get too big now,” Petey said. “It keeps swelling up, you might become an easy target for the Anarchists.”
“Bah!” I shouted. “Let ‘em shoot all they want. They ain’t kickin’ my ass when I’m out of uniform, they sure as hell ain’t when I’m in it.”
“And that’s why you’re our sergeant in arms,” Brock said. “Long as you know when to unleash that wild animal in you, Parker, we won’t have any problems.”
“Ain’t no one handlin’ this beast,” I cracked, but internally, I really appreciated what Brock had said. The whole reason for my little suspension was because I apparently couldn’t handle the monster within. Brock wasn’t requesting that I kill him; he just needed me to unleash him a little more appropriate.
He got it. He knew what was up.
“Now that we’ve all welcomed back our officer and have him in our happy place,” Brock said. “We have to get down to serious business.”
Everyone settled down immediately. There were no more jokes, no more smiles, no more praises or mockeries or anything else. There was a plan to defeat the Anarchists, and nothing more.
“The time has come for us to do whatever it takes to kill the Anarchists,” Brock said. “We’ve piddled around the issue long enough. If they’re going to attack the sheriff, then it’s only a matter of time before they start killing citizens without hesitation. We’ve gotten lucky with Heather and Anna, but we won’t get lucky again. We need to stop this at whatever cost, even if it comes down on us.”
Even if it means using outside officials who may turn a suspicious eye to us. Those were the unspoken words that I heard, and frankly, they were words I agreed with. Not that I was going to say as much out loud.
“We know they have locations in Golden Valley, Las Cruces, and El Sorino. We’ll keep a couple men back here in case they attack Romara, but we need to make sure that we strike all three. Parker—any thoughts?”
Now I’m right at home.
“We’ll be pretty thin if we have to split up into three numbers,” I said. “Admittedly, I ain’t got a better solution. I suspect that if we strike at one location and we guess wrong, word will get out to Vulture. We can defend Romara, but we were never built to defend multiple towns. Ain’t sure what we can do…”
Everyone went silent when we heard footsteps approaching the door. Every member of the Savage Kings knew that to interrupt an officer’s meeting for anything other than a fatal situation was prone for serious punishment. My hand went to my side, where I had a gun. I noticed out of the corner of my eye a few other people did too.
The shadow on the other side knocked, and then had the audacity to turn the handle. Brock’s arm went to his gun.
“Sorry.”
Liza?
“But I had a feeling you guys would be meeting here. You might want to know of the help that I’ve brought in?”
Brock, the other Kings, and I all removed our hands from our guns. I had no idea what the hell Liza meant, although a quick thought took it to a few logical and quick conclusions. Still—for her to have come here? That was surprising.
“I’ve got help from the LAPD, they’re currently getting organized for a strike this evening,” she said. “It won’t surprise you to know that you’re not supposed to know, but, well, here I am.”
I had to imagine that this wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world for Liza to do. I’d first met her as the rigid and rules-based girl working for the free and deal-making Sheriff Jones. It didn’t feel like that much time had passed, but clearly, enough had for her to at least do this.
“And are they comin’ after us next?” I said.
“If you go to Golden Valley, yes.”
The statement was clear enough. We only had to split our forces into two. Going into Golden Valley was grounds enough for getting us arrested on probable cause of… well, dozens of different felonies and misdemeanors.
“I thought this area was outside of LAPD jurisdiction?” Brock said, more curious than accusatory.
“It’s outside the metropolis of Los Angeles, yes, but it’s within Los Angeles County,” Liza said. “The borders for the county extend much further north than people suspect.”
She cleared her throat.
“I told them that my research of the area showed that the Savage Kings were small-timers, but the Anarchists of Death were a full-fledged criminal organization that was primarily based out of Golden Valley and came to Romara occasionally. You’ll forgive me, I assume, for the statement. I had my reasons for it.”
Yes, she did.
And sitting there, watching her take control of a room of gruff, tough men with almost comical ease was incredibly satisfying. That was going to be my girl. My girl. It still felt odd to say, but I was more convinced than ever after this morning that that was how it was going to be. Sure, we had a violent night in front of us.
But it’s what I signed up for, right?
“Whatever you all do with this information is up to you,” Liza said. “However, I think I have outlined the circumstances pretty clearly. You’d do well to steer clear of the LAPD. Heck, you’d do well to not be on a motorcycle near the LAPD. Understood?”
“Absolutely, thank you Liza.”
Liza didn’t say a word before leaving, but she briefly made eye contact with me. I knew that we would work out because in such moments, we didn’t need to share a deep sentence. We didn’t need a prolonged gaze. We only needed that brief flicker of connection to excite both of us. We only needed that moment of joy—a true moment—to make each other feel good.
“Parker?”
I snapped back to attention.
“If we split up between Las Cruces and El Sorino—”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation. “We’ll get the son of a bitch. We’ll wipe out the Anarchists.”
Brock didn’t need to hear a word more.
“The only thing left to do now,” he said. “Is figure out how to split up the forces and if we kill Vulture or take him alive.”
The answers were quick and easy.
4
Liza
I can’t believe I just did that.
I sat on the front of my police cruiser, a little bit in disbelief at what had just transpired. Twenty minutes ago, I had put in a report to my bosses in the LAPD requesting a tactical unit to take care of the problem in Romara. Midway through the call, I had told something of a white lie—most of the operations seemed based out of the nearby town of Golden Valley, with Romara showing up as a target, not a base.
And then, even worse, I had gone to a group the LAPD would have loved to have seen wiped out and had told them of our plan.
I was no longer a police officer, enforcing the letter of the law. I was someone in a police uniform, enforcing justice and the spirit of the law.
It felt…
Confusing.
The one good part was the tactical strike wouldn’t happen until much later tonight, which meant that the Kings and I had plenty of time to decompress and plan our attack. But still! I had just gone against years and years of training and practice. That was not something that I could just brush off easily.
But just because it was something of enormous magnitude that I had done didn’t mean it had a complex reason for why. In fact, the answer walked outside right in the middle of my thoughts, and seeing him put me at ease in knowing I had made the right choice.
“Hey hey,” Parker said. You look much better with that cut on. You look more badass. “Ya a saint, ya know.”
“I will be if this works,” I said. “It’s tough. I never imagined that I’d choose you all over my superiors.”
“I wouldn’t paint it quite so broadly,” he said, seating by me and placing a hand on my thigh. “Ya know the true threat is the Anarchists. That’s it. Ya know that if ya take them out, peace comes to this town. Sheriff Jones woulda done the same damn thing.”
“Maybe.”
“No, there’s no maybe in that, Liza,” he said with a chuckle. “We’ve known Sheriff Jones long before I even became a member of this club. He’s a good man precisely because he ain’t got a stick up his ass when it comes to the rules. He helps us solve issues that arises while keeping an open mind to different solutions. Ya ain’t the same when ya showed up, but ya showed that ya learned.”
I nodded and looked down at the ground. Even with Parker’s reassurances, I still didn’t exactly feel completely at ease with the decision. I wasn’t sure that I ever would.
But as Parker squeezed my knee and then brought me in closer, I realized that having him around would go a long way to making that process come around a little sooner.
“Yah, I may be a little bit biased,” he said with a shrug. “But I think ya just gettin’ better. Society’s so stuck up on havin’ so many goddamn rules, they forget what they’re really tryin’ to enforce. You started that way, but I think ya got better.”
“That’s sweet of you to say,” I said.
I looked back toward the clubhouse. A few of the members were milling around. They weren’t looking at us, but I knew that we were in their line of vision. And as it was, I didn’t really feel comfortable yet being out and in such public view. Even if Sheriff Jones had called me out for being his girlfriend, that didn’t mean that I wanted it to be public.
That, however, didn’t mean that I didn’t feel very strongly about Parker.
“I gotta go,” I said quietly. “I have to get ready for the LAPD’s arrival.”
Dying Love: An MC Romance (Savage Kings MC Book 12) Page 2
