by Riley, C. L.
“I’m sorry about your daughter. The club would like to help,” I started.
He raised his hand. “Let’s get something straight. I don’t want your help. The only reason I allowed you inside my home was to tell you to back off.”
His dismissal erased my guilt, replacing it with frustration. He needed our help. He might not realize it, but we were his best possible ally. Like him, the club cared about Seal’s Cove and the people that called it home in a way no outsider ever could.
“So you think the club is behind all this?” I had to ask.
His answer shocked me. “I didn’t say that. I just think it would be wiser for you to let law enforcement do their jobs without interfering.”
“During your press conference, you blamed your abduction on bikers, unless we misunderstood. Misunderstandings, of course, can be corrected.” I was giving him an opportunity to clear the air and make things right with the club.
His gaze darted around the room, and he lowered his voice. “I have information I can’t share. But…”
Before he could finish, an unfamiliar man appeared under the room’s arched entrance, eyeing us both suspiciously. “Mayor Olsen, I need to speak with you. It’s urgent.”
“Uh, yes, of course. If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Richards, I need to cut this meeting short.” The mayor rose from his chair. He shot me a glance that said everything he couldn’t.
The stranger made him uncomfortable, afraid even.
“I don’t think I know you,” I directed my comment toward the bearded man with dark sunglasses.
He wore a baseball cap low on his head, reminding me of a popular celebrity hoping to hide his identity. In spite of his efforts, there was still something vaguely familiar about him. Not to mention, he didn’t look like someone who would be knocking back drinks with Seal’s Cove’s most prominent resident.
“You don’t need to know me,” he said, his voice flat.
I was already on my feet. I took a step closer, prepared to force an introduction.
The mayor’s bodyguards chose that moment to appear. “Everything all right?” They both scanned the room. I had no doubt they felt the tension. I sure as hell did.
“Yes, I’m fine. Just showing Mr. Richards out. Would you escort him to his motorcycle?”
I gave the stranger a scathing look, and moved to push past him, eager to give him a good shove. At the last moment, he stepped from the entryway to let me by.
“I’ll drop my car off for that paint job, Mr. Richards,” the mayor called from behind.
What the fuck?
Not sure what he was up to, I played along. “Yeah, sounds good. Whenever you’re ready.” It seemed the good mayor might be willing to share the information he’d alluded to before we were so rudely interrupted.
In the meantime, I’d find out who the asshole was. When I did, he would wish he’d given me his name when I’d asked.
Olympia
“That’s good. See! You’re not just an artist; you’re a mathematician too,” I praised JV.
He grinned. “You think so?”
“No. I know so.” I ruffled his hair, proud of his dedication to learning.
Most of the kids were out of school now, but JV and Joey were two of a handful in the club playing catch up in summer school. Their school was the only one in Seal’s Cove, and it hosted students year around, due to the summer make up classes. Every kid in town attended the school as it housed kindergarteners all the way up to grade twelve. I’d attended the same school growing up.
With my memory back, I was surprised to find that I still wanted to play mom to Boone’s boys. For some inexplicable reason it felt right, natural even. What had seemed so wrong in the beginning had become my reality. I liked my role as wife and mother.
Who would ever believe that a rich, never-babysat-once-girl like me could get off on playing house? Maybe my wish-on-a-star had been granted after all, just not the way I’d expected. Wouldn’t that be something…me, a biker chick for life?
“Thanks, mom. Do you want me to get Joey? He has a paper to write.”
“A paper, huh? He failed to mention that.” What did I expect? Joey was thirteen going on eighteen and had a harem of girls to occupy his time, like father like son.
“Sally,” Bones interrupted. “Guests from the other club are here. They want a female bartender, and you’re the best I’ve got right now. Do you mind doing the honors?”
I gazed up at Boone’s dad. I knew according to protocol, as club president, he had every right to demand I tend bar. He’d been nice enough to ask, and I had no clue where Joey was hiding anyway. Truthfully, curiosity about our visitors would have been reason enough to sling drinks.
“I’d be happy to. And JV, go find your brother and tell him I want to see a paper filled with words after dinner. No exceptions.”
That order was received with another big smile as he ran off to torment his older brother. I shook my head. Boys.
“You’re good with them,” Bones admitted, reminding me of his presence.
“They’re easy to love,” I said honestly. “When do you think they can go back to school?”
He shifted, uncomfortable it seemed with my question. “Wish I knew. Hopefully soon. We haven’t had a lockdown last this long in years.”
I knew better than to press my luck, but I couldn’t help it. “Any more fires?”
“So far, no, but that could change anytime.” He turned away, starting toward the stairs, effectively shutting down any additional queries. It was easy to see where Boone got his hard edge from.
I followed him up the steep metal stairs to the main club. Music and laughter greeted us. Weaving between the crowded tables, I hurried over to take Tinker’s place.
Soul Scorchers cuts dominated; but at one table, near the bar, five men wearing Hells Guardian’s patches lounged in their chairs with several club girls hanging all over them. Twila, no shocker, was one of those girls.
She had her arms draped over an unfamiliar biker’s shoulders, biting his ear playfully. Crusher stood off to the side, Eggs and Grinch next to him. He didn’t look pleased with her behavior and slammed back a glass of amber liquid. I hoped for his sake it wasn’t tequila again. The bruise on his jaw was a glaring reminder that tequila wasn’t his friend.
The newcomers noticed my approach and eyed me with interest. Twila sneered. The other girls ignored me completely.
“What can I get you boys?” I realized my mistake too late when the male in the middle narrowed his eyes.
“I don’t see any boys at this table, do you?” He glanced at his friends.
“No, Ringo. I see some damn good looking men who want another pitcher of beer,” the youngest answered.
The girls tittered and looked at me like I’d grown horns.
“Sounds good. A pitcher of beer coming right up.” I spun away, but didn’t get far before the one called Ringo lurched to his feet, grabbing my arm.
I tilted my head to look into his face. Like Boone, he was gorgeous. A dusting of stubble covered a square jaw. His lips were full and his eyes reminded me of emeralds. But despite his amazing good looks, he scared me shitless. He smiled down at me, but his eyes in no way reflected even a hint of happiness. The smile vanished, when I pulled away.
Bones came to my rescue. “Sally’s not on the menu. She’s Boone’s old lady.”
“I don’t see any property patch. Last I heard Boone was fucking anything with tits and a pussy.”
Twila snickered. “Sounds about right.”
“I’m the only thing with tits and a pussy Boone’s fucking now,” I snapped, planting my fists on my hips.
I wondered how the guys would explain this mishap later. I was supposed to be the good little wife of fourteen years. Had I not remembered everything, I would have been mighty confused by the conflicting comments. In a world where everyone knew who ‘belonged’ to who, my identity should have been well established.
Ringo’s eyes lit up. “Wel
l aren’t you a cute little kitty with sharp claws.”
His men laughed. One of them made a cat hissing sound.
Pathetic.
I’d had enough. I stomped to the bar and filled a pitcher. With a saucy smile and my hips swaying, I sauntered back to the table, greeted by more catcalls.
“Your beer, Ringo,” I said sweetly, before dumping it over his head.
“You. Bitch,” he snarled, grabbing me and hauling me against him. He growled into my ear. “You fucked up, baby. Big time. I don’t care who your old man is. He should have taught you how to respect a man. I’ll do him a favor and do it for him.”
I tried to wiggle away, but his grip was ironclad.
“What the fuck is going on here?” I heard Boone bellow. “Get your fucking hands off my ol’ lady.”
Ringo released me with a shove. I stumbled back, losing my balance. I slammed against another table. Spyder was able to block my fall and helped me regain my balance.
Boone lunged, gripping Ringo’s shirt and yanking him so close their noses were almost touching. “You ever lay a hand on my wife again, I’ll kill you. You hear me! I’ll fucking kill you!” Boone pushed him with such force; he crashed over several chairs, landing in a heap on the floor.
By then, his partners had drawn their weapons, and our guys had their guns pointed right back.
I realized I needed to do something before bullets started flying.
“Boone…”
He turned and glared my direction. “Don’t say a word.”
I nodded, slinking away from the standoff toward the bar. Harmony was already there and grabbed my hand, guiding me behind the counter, where we crouched. “Honey, you can’t disrespect a guest like that…”
“But he…”
“I know what he did. He’s an ass. But you gotta let the men handle it.”
“But they weren’t.” I started to cry.
“Oh sweetie, I know you don’t remember how the club works. They’ll figure it out.”
God, I hope so.
After what felt like forever, I heard men’s voices, no gunshots. It sounded like they were negotiating something. A few minutes later, Boone found me behind the bar and reached for my hand. I let him pull me up. Without hesitation, I buried my face in his chest.
He sighed, and finally, his arms wrapped around me. “We’re okay, babe. It will be all right. I promise.”
“I’m sorry. He was so mean. He was hurting me.”
“I know. It shouldn’t have happened, period.” He stroked my hair.
“Tonight, Richards…” Ringo shouted on his way up the stairs to the bedrooms.
Boone didn’t answer.
“Tonight? What’s he talking about?” I had a horrible feeling I wasn’t going to like Boone’s answer.
“Let’s sit down.” He led me to one of the couches that lined the walls.
I was scared to look at his brothers. Forcing my head up, I glanced around the room. Several of the old ladies gave me encouraging smiles, and none of the men appeared any angrier than usual. Only Crusher and Twila glowered at me from a couch on the room’s opposite side, ensuring I noticed their disapproval. A few seconds later, they resumed their conversation.
“What was he talking about?” I prompted, afraid to find out but desperate to know.
“He agreed to forget the whole incident if I’d face him in the ring tonight. He’s gonna get cleaned up and call more of his crew to come watch.”
“The fighting ring?” This was bad. I couldn’t stand it if Boone ended up hurt because of my impulsive actions. “It was his fault,” I murmured, only half believing my statement. “And why does it matter so much what he thinks?”
“Babe, it’s hard to explain. You’re right. He was wrong. But some clubs have stricter rules about what women can and can’t do. Hells Guardians is one of those clubs. Besides, it’s not as if I’m not the all-time champion. And it will give me a chance to teach him never to touch what belongs to me.”
I didn’t know how to respond to his declaration. Maybe he’d been faking our relationship in the beginning, but this didn’t feel fake. Without thinking, I reached up, curling my hand around his neck. Sensing my desire, he leaned down, kissing me hard.
When he pulled away, my chest was heaving and his breathing was ragged. My lips felt swollen.
“Fuck, babe. You make me crazy. When I saw you pressed against him, I went nuts. Then I saw how afraid you were, and I wanted to kill that motherfucker. I still might.”
“Boone,” I whispered.
He claimed my mouth again, his tongue lashing mine. When we finally parted, he stared at me for a long time. “You’re worth fighting for, Sally.”
A fist of guilt punched me right in the gut. I was planning to hurt Boone for how he’d tricked me, and this situation was the perfect opportunity. I could create an even bigger chasm between Boone and Ringo, ultimately causing a renewed rift between their clubs, which in turn, would trigger a fresh wave of violence. If that happened, the police would surely get involved, and I’d be home free.
I tried to convince myself the reason I couldn’t follow through on that plan was because of Boone’s promised protection from the arsonist; but the truth was, I could never intentionally harm the man I loved.
It’s true; I love him.
That thought sent a thrill spiking through me. I’m. In. Love. And it isn’t some insta-love infatuation like I’m used to reading about in my favorite romance books.
No. This love was the real deal, and it had been growing inside me ever since the first seed was planted the night he’d helped put out mom’s house fire. Without him even knowing, he’d become a permanent fixture in my fantasies, dreams, and in my heart, his brooding image never far from my mind. Fate had finally intervened, driving us together under the wildest possible circumstances.
“Just so you know, babe, I’m ordering you a new cut with my property patch on the back for the world to see. You prepared to wear it?”
Was I? Despite the love and longing, there was still his deceit to deal with. Oh, who was I kidding?
“Hell yes!” I laughed, unable to hide my enthusiasm. “Will it keep bad men away?”
Boone laughed this time. “Every bad man but me. You can’t keep me away. There’s even a rumor floating around that I’m pussy-whipped.” He winked.
“No way…not the big bad Boone,” I taunted, pleased by his admission.
“Big bad Boone is going to get lost in your sweet pussy tonight, after I win my fight. Be ready.”
“Always for you,” I said, suddenly serious. “I’m always ready for you, Boone.”
And despite all the lies and head games, I meant it.
Boone
I pummeled the punching bag, envisioning what I’d do to Ringo’s face in less than thirty minutes. My adrenaline was soaring, fueled by a deeply controlled rage that simmered the more I pictured the Guardian’s Road Captain touching Olympia.
Motherfucker won’t know what hit him.
“You gonna be all right?” Leg asked. “I don’t like this. Something feels off.”
Ignoring his warning, I answered him with another question. “Am I ever not okay in the ring?”
Grinch chuckled. “He’s got a point, man.”
Leg wasn’t that easily dissuaded. “I know your fight record. It’s not that. Ringo isn’t like other fighters. He’s not right in the head. The man enjoys killing a little too much for my tastes. I’d expect a dirty fight.”
Nodding to get him off my back, I leaned over and stretched my calves.
Both Ringo and I would be thoroughly searched before entering the ring. Attempting to sneak in a weapon meant an automatic disqualification. These were unsanctioned MMA fights, not death matches like some underground leagues featured. Not that there hadn’t been a death or two over the years. Shit happened. Anytime men fought bare-knuckled with few rules, injuries were part of the package, and death was a very real possibility. That’s why the club had an
airtight waiver every participant signed. No one entered the ring without a clear understanding of the risks.
For the most part, our operation was run above-the-board in spite of its underground status. Purses for fight winners were substantial, and gamblers could bet online via a secure site Spyder had developed. Our location was ideal as well.
We’d worked out a deal with a local casino and ran a gym on their property, teaching a wide range of boxing and martial arts classes, and offering weekend clinics for tourists. Families could book private parties for their kids and use the facilities for fun. At night, we locked up to the general public and the place became a gambler’s paradise.
We had additional space in a converted basement, below the ring, where patrons could watch the fights on big screen TV’s. Exclusive membership packages were available for high rollers, and costly fees were charged to anyone wanting to enter. Prices included booze that flowed like water and waitresses who looked like models. The atmosphere assured that an abundance of bets were cast, bringing in thousands of dollars for the club.
Until a year ago, I’d spent any night I wasn’t getting my kink on at The Dungeon, kicking ass here. My dad had been the one to intervene, suggesting I let the fighting life go in order to focus more on my VP position and parenting the boys. He’d insisted my kids needed me, and I’d been well aware that my time away was having a negative impact on their behavior at school.
I couldn’t deny Olympia’s presence had improved my family relationships even more. As Sally, she was a natural mother, which challenged me to be a more hands-on father. In just two weeks, she’d done wonders with the boys.
More unbelievable – she’d done wonders with me.
For the first time in my life, I had no desire to fuck another female. I wanted to do better and be better. Most of all, I wanted the phony relationship I’d built on lies to become a real relationship based on mutual love and honesty.
How I’d make that dream a reality, once she remembered, was beyond me. Every minute was a minute closer to the bomb dropping. We’d already had one major scare, yesterday, with the cheerleading fiasco. I needed to find out who was working behind the scenes to sabotage our relationship. I also needed to figure out who the hell had interrupted my meeting with Olympia’s father. I couldn’t shake the idea that I knew the strange man with the beard and sunglasses.
