by L. Wilder
“You want to tell me what the hell you mean by that?”
I sat down and sighed. “I let myself get too close ... Crossed a line that shouldn’t have been crossed.”
“All right, so what are you gonna do about it?”
“That’s just it. I don’t have a fucking clue.”
Gus leaned back in his chair and studied me for a moment. We’d been friends for a long time. He knew me better than anyone, so I had no doubt that I could trust him to lead me in the right direction—even if it was a direction I didn’t want to go. I took a deep breath and tried to prepare myself for a reprimand, but instead he said, “You’re a good man, Bone. I trust you to do the right thing by her and the club.”
“But what if I—”
“I trust you.” Gus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk, and looked me dead in the eye. “Now it’s time for you to do the same.”
“Damn, brother. As much as I appreciate you saying that, you’re not giving me anything here,” I complained. “I came to you for advice on what to do.”
“You didn’t need my advice before you crossed that line you said you shouldn’t have,” he scoffed. “But if I had any advice to give you, it would be to take things slow. Keep it as simple as you can for as long as you can.”
“And Hyde?”
“He’ll come around when the time is right. Like the rest of us, he knows you’re a good man.” His expression grew hard as he warned, “Just don’t give him a reason to think otherwise.”
“I won’t. You have my word on that.”
“Best be getting to work. I’m sure Darcy is already there waiting on you now.”
“No doubt.” As I started to leave, I said, “Thanks, Prez.”
After I left his office, I headed out to the parking lot. Once I’d made it to my bike, I stowed the papers that Riggs had given me into my saddlebags and headed to the garage. As much as I wanted to stop and look through everything, it would have to wait. I had to finish breaking down the 1969 Camaro I’d been working on for the past couple of days. Darcy had already started painting and was waiting on me to finish sandblasting the rear end. She wasn’t exactly patient, so I wasn’t surprised to find her waiting for me when I pulled up to the garage. She was standing at the front door in her paint suit with her hand planted on her hip. “Well, look who finally decided to show up.”
“What the hell, Darc? It’s not even eight o’clock yet.”
“You know I have to finish priming today.”
“I’m well aware of that.” I lumbered past her as I started inside. “That’s why I got here early.”
“Well, clearly your idea of early and mine are very different.”
I could’ve shot back at her. Hell, under any other circumstance, I would have, but I knew she was just eager to get the job finished and finished right. Darcy might’ve been a chick, but damn—she worked as hard as any man I’d ever met, and I respected her for it. We all did. She followed close behind while I walked over to my station and picked up the sandblaster. “I’m on it. It’ll be ready for you in thirty.”
“Okay.” Her expression softened as she said, “Thanks, Bone. I knew I could count on you.”
“Um-hmm. Sure, ya did,” I scoffed. “That’s why you were waiting at the door to bust my balls.”
“Well, they’re still intact, aren’t they?”
I reached down, cupped my balls in my hand, and held them for a minute. “Yeah, they’re just fine. Thank you very much.”
“Such an asshat.”
“Yeah, but you love me. You know you do.”
“Shut up and get to work, Bone.” Darcy turned and started to walk away. “The clock’s a ticking.”
I shook my head as I watched her go back into her paint room. As promised, I finished the rear end in less than a half hour, and after Gauge and I carried it to her room, we got busy on the engine. The entire time we were working, I was thinking about Brant and all the intel on him that was waiting for me in my saddlebag. Sensing that something was bugging me, Gauge nudged me and asked, “What’s with you today?”
“Just got some things on my mind.”
“I see that. You wanna talk about it?”
Gauge was a good guy. I knew without a doubt that I could trust him with anything, but I’d made a promise to Alyssa and I intended to keep it. “Thanks, man, but I’ve gotta handle this one myself.”
I turned my focus back to the task at hand, and together, Gauge and I busted our asses to get it done. When we finally wrapped things up, I cleaned up my station and headed out to my bike. I wasted no time getting on road and to my place. Once I pulled up, I grabbed the papers out of the saddlebag and went inside; then I sat down at the kitchen table and read through every page, line by fucking line. It didn’t take me long to pick up on the fact that the guy had married up with Hillary Livingston Brant. Not only was Hillary’s family loaded, she was a nurse practitioner, making enough money to support them both. At first glance, Brant seemed like an average Joe who’d played his cards right, but then I came across his police record. It seemed that Alyssa wasn’t the only woman he’d raped. While the charges were either dropped or never formally made, there were at least five other women who’d accused Brant of rape, and just like he had with Alyssa, the motherfucker had gotten away with it—well, that shit was about to fucking change.
8
Alyssa
“What’s up with you?” Jack teased as he carried a load of dishes to the sink. “All smiles like all is good in the world. You must’ve had one hell of a night last night.”
“I did.” I smiled. “That doesn’t mean I’m gonna tell you about it.”
“Seriously?” He turned on the water and let it run over the dirty dishes. “You’re really gonna hold out on me?”
“Sorry, dude.” I could’ve told him about my night with Beckett, but I found it doubtful that he’d understand how much it had meant to me. I couldn’t put into words how after being with Beckett, I felt like a weight had been lifted off me. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so alive, so free and happy—really happy. I grabbed my crate of potatoes and gave him a wink. “This one I’m keeping to myself.”
“I’m gonna remember that! Next time I’ve got tea to spill, I’m keeping that shit to myself.”
“Mm-hmm. Sure you will.” Over the past few weeks, Jack and I had become pretty close friends. He made it easy. He was always goofing around, doing his best to lighten the mood whenever things got tense in the kitchen, and he was a great listener. It also helped to know that he wasn’t the least bit interested in me. He’d let it be known early on that he was involved with someone—someone who just happened to be named Tony. They’d been dating for over a year, and from the way Jack spoke, they were very happy together. I looked back over my shoulder as I smiled at him and said, “As soon as Tony does something sweet for you, you’ll be itching to tell me all about it.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
I walked over to the cutting board laying on the counter and started peeling my second crate of potatoes. I’d been at it for almost an hour when Bisset came over to me. He stood silently watching as I continued on with my task, and after several moments, he cleared his voice. I looked over to him and listened as he said, “I’m moving you to plating.”
“Oh, okay,” I answered, unable to hold back my excitement. I’d only been there a few weeks, and to be moved so quickly was a big deal. As much as I wanted to reach up and hug him, I simply gave him a nod and said, “Thank you for the opportunity.”
“I’ll be watching. One screw up and you’re back to the potatoes.”
“Understood.”
Bisset then turned and made his way over to Jack. I watched as they spoke for a couple of minutes, and seconds later, he went back to his regular routine of barking out orders to the rest of the crew. Jack was smiling ear to ear as he made his way over to me and said, “Looks like I’m finally moving up.”
“Really?”
“Yep. I’m moving to the line,” he answered proudly. “I’m gonna be taking your place with the vegetables and salad.”
“That’s awesome. Congratulations!”
“Thank you very much.”
“I didn’t realize you were interested in becoming a chef.”
“Ain’t like I’m gonna bus dishes for the rest of my life.” He lifted his head and placed his hands on his hips as he rocked them back and forth. “I’m working my way up in the world, sunshine. You just wait and see.”
“I have no doubt that you’ll do great.” I motioned my hand towards the crate of potatoes. “You best get busy.”
“Right back at ya.”
I was walking on cloud nine as I headed over to the main cooking station, but the second I got into position, my nerves kicked in. I knew Bisset would be watching my every move, and he’d be expecting me to keep up with the line’s fast pace without making any mistakes. While there were plenty, none of them were too major, and I made it through the night without a single plate being returned to the kitchen. That in itself was enough to have me smiling as I headed into the locker room at the end of the night. I was about to gather my things when Jack walked in. “How’d it go?”
“Could’ve been better.” I shrugged and gave him a slight smile. “Could’ve been worse. How about you?”
“Peeling potatoes isn’t an ideal job, but it sure as hell beats washing dishes.”
“Yes, it does.” I took my purse and umbrella out of my locker as I asked, “You about to head out?”
“Yeah. You want me to walk you out to your car?”
“That would be great.”
Eager to get home, I held my keys in my hand and followed him towards the door. When we reached my car, I thanked him and we quickly said our goodbyes. I rushed home, wanting to be ready in case Beckett came by. He’d been stopping in every night for the past couple of weeks, but after what had taken place the night before, I wasn’t sure that the same would hold true tonight. I hoped we could remain friends and keep things simple, but deep down I knew that wasn’t possible. There was no way things between us wouldn’t change after the night we shared, but I at least hoped the change would be a positive one. After taking a shower and changing clothes, I went into the kitchen to search the fridge for something to make for dinner. It had been a couple of days since I’d been to the grocery store, so I was down to just the basics. I pulled out a carton of eggs, some bacon, and a can of biscuits.
I was just about to turn on the stove when I heard a knock at the door. A big smile crossed my face when I opened it and found Beckett standing on the porch. “Hey, I wasn’t sure if you were going to come by.”
“Me neither.” He gave me a small smile. “But I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m good. I was actually just about to make myself something to eat if you’d like to come in and join me.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” I reached out and grabbed his arm, tugging him inside. “Now, get in here and help me cook.”
“Bacon?”
“Yeah, I’m making breakfast for dinner.” As we walked into the kitchen, I told him, “I haven’t been to the grocery in a few days, so my options are kind of limited to bacon and eggs.”
“Sounds good to me. Just tell me what I can do to help, chef.”
“How ’bout you cook the bacon, and I’ll start the biscuits?”
“You got it.”
Beckett took the bacon off the counter and went over to the stove while I pulled out my cast iron skillet for the biscuits. I opened the can and was just starting to arrange them in the pan when Beckett asked, “A skillet for biscuits?”
“It makes the biscuits rise better.” I said while slipping them in the oven. “It’s an old trick my mother taught me.”
“Is that right?” A sexy smirk crossed his face as he stood there looking at me. “What other tricks did she teach you?”
“Just a few things here and there, but they were nothing like the tricks you showed me last night.” I teased.
“What kind of tricks are you referring to?”
“Oh, come on, Beckett.” I walked over and took a bowl from the cabinet. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Can’t say that I do.”
I started cracking the eggs into the bowl as I shook my head. “That thing you did with your fingers, for one.”
“You liked that, did ya?”
“Mm-hmm.” I kept my eyes on the bowl of eggs, scrambling them with the whisk as I muttered, “Liked that kissing thing you did on my neck too.”
I didn’t realize he’d come up behind me until I felt the warmth of his breath on my neck. A delicious tingle shot down my spine the second his lips touched the curve of my neck. “You mean this?”
“Mm-hmm.”
It felt so good and I didn’t want him to stop as I tilted my head. Just as I hoped, he continued nipping and sucking down to my shoulder. Just before he stopped, he lightly clamped his teeth against my skin, giving me another jolt of pleasure. That pleasure was quickly replaced with disappointment when he abruptly stopped and walked back over to the stove, turning his focus back to the bacon he’d been cooking. It amazed me that a simple touch could have such an effect on me, but that’s how it was with Beckett. He brought out feelings I never dreamed I’d have. I thought I’d always be guarded, untrusting, and cold, but he’d shown me that I was wrong. I could feel trust and passion and everything in between. It was one of the many reasons why I liked to be around him so much. I didn’t have to see his face to know that he was smiling when he asked, “How those eggs coming along?”
“Such a tease,” I whispered under my breath.
Beckett glanced over his shoulder, his eyes dancing with mischief. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” I walked over to the stove and dumped the bowl of eggs into the frying pan. “How much longer on the bacon?”
“It’s done. Might wanna check on those biscuits.”
I reached for an oven mitt, then opened the door. Good thing that I did because they were definitely ready, so I pulled them out and set them down on a hot plate. Beckett leaned over and gave the biscuits an appraising nod. “Looks like your mom was right about the skillet.”
“That she was.” I took the spatula and stirred the eggs, and once they were done, I carried them over to the counter. “Looks like we’re set.”
“Plates?”
I motioned my hand above his head. “They’re right behind you in the cabinet.”
Beckett pulled out two, then walked over and sat down on one of the stools next to me. We each made a plate and started eating. After he’d taken a few bites, he looked over to me and said, “You didn’t finish telling me about those tricks.”
“Well, I was trying to, but then you had to go and distract me before I could finish.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.” A smile spread across his handsome face. “Couldn’t help myself.”
“Mm-hmm. Sure, you couldn’t.”
I poked around at my eggs, then took a sip of my tea. I knew he was waiting for me to tell him about the other things he’d done that had turned me on, but as I sat there, I suddenly became embarrassed and regretted ever bringing it up. I had no idea how to explain it to him, so I just kept quiet and pretended to eat. Beckett had just finished the last of his biscuit when he leaned towards me and asked, “Why don’t you stop stalling and tell me what’s really on your mind?”
“I don’t know. It’s hard to explain”—I shrugged—“and a little embarrassing.”
“You’re gonna have to give me more than that.”
“Let’s just say … that after last night, it’s pretty clear you have a lot of experience ... experience I don’t have.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“I don’t think you get what I’m saying.”
“No, I get what you’re saying”—he reached out and placed his hand on mine—�
�and you’re mistaken if you think there’s anything wrong or embarrassing about the fact that you haven’t had a lot of experience. I personally think it’s a good thing. A very good thing.”
“And why’s that?”
“In time, you’ll see. When you meet the right guy, you’ll have those experiences with him.”
As I sat there focusing on him, I thought about the night before—how safe I’d felt in his arms, how his touch had made my entire body come alive, and how he’d put my needs before his own. I never realized it was even possible for me to actually enjoy having sex, but I did. I enjoyed it a lot, and I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to try it again ... and again and again. That didn’t mean I was being naïve about my feelings for Beckett. Sure, there were things about him I didn’t know, but I was certain of how he made me feel. “And what if I think you’re the right guy?”
“I’m not.” With a look of regret in his eyes, he said, “I’m too damn old, livin’ a life that isn’t meant for a woman like you, and—”
“Beckett, I’m not asking you to put a ring on my finger.” I stood up, reached for the hem of my t-shirt, and quickly pulled it over my head. His eyes skirted over me as I tossed it over my shoulder and said, “I’m just asking you to join me in the bedroom.”
I knew it was a bold move and there was a chance he might turn me down, but for another night with him, I was willing to take a chance. I gave him a wink as I walked past him and started down the hall. Moments later, I heard his stool scrape against the tile floor as he stood up and followed me into the bedroom. When he got to the doorway, he stopped, and just stood there staring at me like he was thinking about his next move. His brows furrowed as he said, “Not sure this is a good idea.”
“And why not?”
“It’ll complicate things.”
“They’re already complicated, Beckett.” I shrugged with a smile. “Don’t see why we can’t complicate them a little bit more.”
“Look, I, ah … I don’t know about this.” He seemed so torn as he said, “I’m not gonna lie. Last night was incredible, really fucking incredible, but this is entering dangerous territory. As much as I want to be with you again, I don’t want to do something that might end up hurting you ... or me for that matter.”
