Second Chance: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

by Kathryn Thomas

  “Yeah! We thought he was gonna kill him if their president didn’t pull him back and out of the ring. The whole place was going mad. The Wilderkind boys were screaming like savages, and our guys were itching to start shit. We got the fuck out of there before things got crazy. We heard someone may have gotten knifed.”

  “Damn…” I murmur as I try to picture Bear all wild and in his element, his brown curls sticking to his sweaty, tanned skin. His hands would be flying in every direction while his muscles in his biceps and chest flexed and retracted. In my mind, he is part animal, part God. And I can’t help but smirk at the thought of me bedding a guy like him… Again.

  “Where is Kitka?” I ask as I snap out of my fog. The girls are already putting away their late morning breakfast and getting out their magazines. There was never much for us to do early in the day. Nothing really starts up for us until the sun sets.

  Mary flips through the pages of some cheap gossip rag you buy at the checkout line and throws a hand in the air. “I have no clue. Girl said she was coming back home after the whole Bear thing went down, but I haven’t heard her in there all morning, nor did I see her last night. Her lamp light was on all night too.”

  “I bet she went to Cobra’s house. Desperate girls gotta run back to her man for support.”

  Mary laughs as she replies, “Some girls don’t know when to quit. No one is gonna lock down Cobra for good. Kitka’s been at it for years now, and all she’s got is that he’s been faithful to her and given her some cash from time to time.”

  “Time to move on.” Larissa nods. “Some girls…”

  I try to hide my reddening face from them as I go off to finish my morning routine. First the dishes and then cleaning the apartment. My mind turns off as I begin to sweep around the table where the two are still lounging. I’m no Cinderella, but today, I’ll gladly do their chores if it gives me time to process what they’ve told me went down last night.

  I don’t know Bear well enough to know if the rumor about Kitka is true. After Killer’s convo about Cobra leaving her for me, she sure as hell walked out on us fast. There’s certainly nothing worse than a woman who has been scorned. I’ve been there. I would probably burn down the entire freaking planet if I were told I couldn’t have something that I loved and worked for years towards.

  And Bear… well, he’s a motorcycle club member. As much as I want to think that there may be more, especially after he saved me at the bar, in reality, he’s just what he is—leather jacket, standard issue boots, and bloody knuckles. Men like him have urges and needs that I don’t really understand. It is stupid of me to think that I could ever be more than just a girl he lays claim to, even though there is part of me who wants it to be more, who is willing to risk it all to jump off the cliff with him.

  But now it’s not only me I have to think about—there’s a third person, even if not present, I’ve got to watch out for. I slam the broom down against the wall and run back to my room. I send a quick message to Cobra letting him know that I’m on my way before changing into my tan pencil skirt and black blouse. As quickly as I can, I do up my hair and fix my makeup and bolt out of the apartment before anyone can ask any questions or Kitka shows her face.

  Cobra’s apartment is only a few blocks from where the girls are located. It’s in a row with other MC boys and higher ups. Killer himself is across the street in a tiny Spanish style cottage that looks too quaint and picturesque to be owned by a single guy like him. As I round the corner, I send Cobra another text warning him I am near. It’s a defensive mechanism. I don’t want to scare him, and I certainly don’t want anyone else around while we discuss the business at hand.

  Lucky for me, he’s alone when he answers the door wearing only a pair of tight black boxer briefs. The snakes that line his torso, back, and neck, look more real than ever before. They stare at me as I try to politely and confidently ask to come in. It takes me a moment to catch my breath as he lets me pass through and head towards his large, leather-clad living room. The smell of his cheap cologne and musty cigarettes is nearly unbearable,

  “I don’t want to waste your time,” I offer, unsure of how intimate I should be. I’m basically putting myself out on a platter for him to take. “But have you talked to Killer… about my…”

  “Yes,” he answers quickly as he takes a seat and then gestures towards the space on the loveseat next to him. The couch squeaks as I take my place, looking forward towards the blank wall. Cobra’s long arms drape over the back of the couch, and his fingers find their way towards my back and hair.

  “I don’t know what you’re thinking,” I confess, “but it’s not like Killer’s giving me, I mean us, much of a choice.”

  “You should be grateful, Sunny.” He laughs, “He should kill you for getting your slutty self knocked up, or at least force you to get rid of it. That’s what he would do to other girls. You’re lucky he wants to nail you so bad.”

  “What?” I ask completely dumbfounded. Killer took me in when I begged for a place to go and a position with the club. I was only a teenager then—running away from a life I knew I didn’t want and parents who couldn’t tame me. He is like a savior to me, but it never crossed my mind that he has shown pity on me because there was something more to this. Not once has he given me the idea that it would be a possibility…

  Cobra interrupts my thoughts with, “Secondly, you get to jump rank on all the other club skanks and land yourself someone with money and power. I’ve got plans, and Killer’s trying to clip them before I get too big in the club.”

  I know exactly what he’s alluding to. Cobra’s been running power plays for a year now. He’s got a following, but there’s not enough for him to challenge Killer for the top spot. Killer runs the club with an iron fist and locks down any kind of dissent. Even us girls know when to keep our mouths shut when around one of his eyes and ears.

  “I guess if he’s gonna force me to claim that bastard as my own, I might as well get a little fun out of it.” He leans himself over me with his second arm landing right along my outside hip. I’m pinned in place as he towers just above me. “I am man enough to admit that I’ve always wondered what your tight little pussy tastes like and what that Bear guy got out of it that night.”

  He licks his dry, pink lips and comes in for a kiss right along the base of my neck. I instantly freeze. I mentally prepared myself for this, but now that it’s happening, that I have to do this, I’m incapable of moving from this spot. In the back of my mind, I see Bear and can feel his own hands and lips on me. If I can just keep him in my mind, everything will be okay. I can do this.

  I let Cobra unbutton my shirt, practically ripping it in the process. He’s rough, but what did I expect? All the guys are, even Bear was on our first go around. But as he moves to my skirt, I notice something. This entire time, even with my hands on his lap, his boxers haven’t moved an inch. I need to get this over with before I lose confidence, but at the rate we’re going, I doubt he’s going to be able to get it up at all. Me being laid out like this should do the trick… what gives?

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, knowing I’m about to put myself in a ton of danger. “Am I not doing it for you?”

  “Shut up, slut,” he orders me. “Get down on your knees.”

  A lightbulb goes off in my head. I don’t need to do this. There’s a way out that would get me what I want and need if I am brave enough to take this route. I smile as wide as I can and slip under his arm. He grins as I kneel before him in between his long, thick legs. I place my hands on each of his thighs and begin to massage. His head falls back towards the ceiling, and I hear him let out a groan as my hands move up towards his groin. Still, nothing—no movement, or growth.

  I tug on the boxers, yanking them down his hips. I can tell he’s hesitating, but he can’t stop me from removing them. His limp cock is fully there for me to see. My hand reaches behind me towards where I dropped my purse. As I begin to kiss along his knee and inner thigh, he doesn’t notice me r
each for my phone or hear it click to unlock. And as he sighs in frustration while staring up at the same spot on the ceiling, I snap a few pics.

  “What the fuck are you doing!?!” he roars as I lean back, phone still in my hand.

  “Getting what I want,” I say confidently as I stand to my feet. “I’m guessing, with a soft dick like that, you haven’t gotten off on anyone in a while. How’s that gonna look to the club and your supporters?

  “You’re a lying bitch, Sunny. I’ve got a rep—”

  “You’ve got Kitka lying for you for whatever reason, but I’ve got proof that you can’t get it up.”

  “I’ll break your fucking phone!” he stammers as he stands next to me. With one rough grab, he pulls me back towards the door and slams the phone out of my hand so that it falls to his feet. “What you gonna do now?”

  “It’s fine.” I smile. “I saved it to my cloud. Those pics aren’t going anywhere.”

  “No one’s gonna believe you, Sunny,” he sneers. “You’re a lying little tramp who had the nerve to get knocked up by a fucking Wilderkind. You’re tainted.”

  “Not if you’re right about Killer wanting me. He’ll defend me as long as I give him what he wants, and I’m sure he’s capable of getting it up for a skank like me, right? There’s nothing wrong with his package.”

  With a lowered voice, he growls at me, “What the fuck do you want?”

  “Exactly what Killer promised me. You protect this baby and me—claim it as your own, and maybe throw me some cash to make it look believable. In return, these pics stay between you and me. I’ll keep your, ahem, little secret.”

  He storms off back towards the living room, kicking at the leather stool so that it slams to the ground and rolls around at his feet. He picks up my clothes and tosses them back at my face. “Get dressed, and then get the fuck out of here.”

  “I can’t do that unless I’m gonna be seen,” I correct him. He practically has a heart attack right there and then. He walks over towards the kitchen table where his own phone is while I throw on my clothes, careful to not look too dressed. He dials up one of the guys I know is in his apartment building and orders him to come over for a meeting about the day’s shifts.

  “Good,” I say, testing my power. “Now we should do this again, or at least tell people we did because I doubt you’ll be able to… do anything otherwise. Let’s plan for next week? I’ll pencil you in and get back to you. After all, you’re my man now.”

  “And you’re my woman,” Cobra scoffs. “That means I can do whatever the fuck I want with you now. I make the rules.”

  “Like what?” I ask, the pit in my stomach growing.

  Before he can answer, there’s a knock on his apartment door. Standing on the opposite side of it, I fluff my hair, mess my shirt, and smear my lipstick on the back of my hand. Cobra lets the guy in, and the guest’s beady little eyes practically grow the size of baseballs when he sees me standing there, messing with my heels.

  “Oh, hey, Sunny…” his voice trails off. “I don’t wanna interrupt—”

  “You’re not. I was just stopping by. It was a short visit, right Co?”

  “Not that short,” he shoots back.

  “Great. I’ll let you boys get back to business.” I go in for the kill, standing on my toes as I rest myself against Cobra’s bare chest. In his ear, I whisper, “I’ll see you soon, darling.”

  He turns his cheek into mine as he places a firm hand on my back. His voice drops about two octaves as he replies, “You too. Sooner than you think.”

  With a glance back at the guest, I see myself out. Any longer in that apartment with me playing blackmail and I doubt I’d make it out alive.

  But as soon as I’m down the block, death itself finds me in the form of a lone rider. He’s beat up—black eyes and a twisted nose—but even under the helmet and the bandages, I can tell who it is.

  “What are you doing out here?” Bear demands. “What happened to you?”

  It suddenly occurs to me what this must look like. “I could ask the same about you,” I counterpunch. The words barely escape my mouth. I’m having trouble just breathing.

  “Get on,” he commands, throwing me a helmet from under the storage compartment of his bike. Do I have any choice? With Bear, I’d go just about anywhere to get away from what looms behind me.

  Chapter Ten

  Bear

  If I said I wasn’t expecting to see her on my drive, I’d be lying to myself. Since I ran into Kitka last night—or maybe, more accurately, since Kitka forced herself on me—I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Sunny. She was with me while I slept, haunting my dreams, and she was there with me through every single hit, punch, and jab I landed on that Filthy Bastards son of a bitch.

  When I had finally knocked the little motherfucker out, his body lying still and silent at my feet, Vance came bounding towards me, a look of fury in his eyes.

  “You did that for the club!” he shouted over the cheers and boos from the crowd. “My man! You’re back in action!”

  I knew what he meant, but he was dead fucking wrong. After I’d talked to Kitka, after I’d heard her story about Sunny and Cobra, I didn’t want to win for anyone but me. This was my victory, goddammit!

  I woke up this morning with her smell surrounding me and her taste on my tongue. I’d been dreaming about her again, but it felt like more than that. Even though it’d been nearly two months since I’d felt her body on mine or seen her round, full breasts bounce just for me, her ghost lingered, felt as real as if she’d just been riding me, grinding her wet pussy into me.

  When the dream had faded, my eyes fluttered open, and I felt my stomach lurch and my groin burn. I ached for her, but all I had instead was a thin, worn-down old pillow mashed between my arms and the bed—the same bed I’ve slept in nearly every night of my adult life. And the other side of it was empty.

  I couldn’t take that shit anymore. I had to go and see her for myself. I was certain that Kitka’s story couldn’t be true. Even though I’d only spent a handful of days with Sunny, I feel like I know her to the core. I saw her at her most vulnerable; I’m convinced that’s when she’s at her smartest. Sunny can be independent and intelligent while remaining smoking hot—everything these club bitches who cling on to ass-clowns like Cobra for dear life aren’t. She’s like me in so many ways, and there’s no way in fucking hell that she would willingly go with a scumbag psychopath like Cobra.

  No one, and I mean no one, but me can take claim on a girl like that. So that’s why I came here.

  It was a risk, that’s for sure. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since the fight, and the last I heard, the guy I beat to a bloody pulp is still in the hospital undergoing some major surgery. But I didn’t think of him as I pulled into Filthy Bastards territory. I kept my mind focused on the addresses and places we put in the dossier of Filthy Bastards members—info sheets of all the intel we have collected over the years. Guys like me, who are in charge of training, memorize where to stay away from and where to tell our riders to run like hell if they get caught up in it. This neighborhood happens to be one of the main spots I go over when mapping out territories: Killer’s little house is on the corner of this street, and the row of apartments that led up to it house any number of Filthy Bastards’ faithful girls.

  I slowly drove past the houses, checking them one by one for signs of anyone or anything that might be related to Sunny in some way. I searched for almost three hours, but there was nothing. There was barely even a sign of life on these quiet streets. I was about to throw in the towel and get on out of here before one of these motherfuckers saw me and smacked me down with a steel pipe or something—but then I saw her.

  She was awfully hard to miss. Even though it was only mid-afternoon, she was wearing a tight nightclub dress, the kind I’d never expect her to wear. Her long blonde hair was tied up tight into a ponytail that swished against her backside as she paced along the sidewalk. Her arms were crossed tight arou
nd her chest, but she looked strangely confident.

  I snuck up on her, and she flinched as she realized who I was. I didn’t tell her the truth of why I was there looking for her. All I wanted was to get her the fuck away from there, and to my surprise, she went without any hesitation.

  But now that she’s on my bike, I have zero clue where to take her. None of my usual places seems safe or good enough. I don’t want to bring her back to some seedy motel or a spot I know she’ll be recognized.

  I remember something from my childhood—there are not many good memories. When I think back on those years, I remember being scared shitless with nothing to hold on to. My whole life was lived out in the back of cars and moving trucks, always on the run from God knows who. Sometimes my old man made it worth it. He pretended like it was some adventure to be happy about as we were on the run. When I was about ten, he took me to see the Hollywood sign. My mama waited silently in the car as we pulled over on Mulholland Drive. It was my first taste of L.A. after growing up outside the city, and I was addicted then and there.