by Riley, C. L.
Seeing my confusion, he finished his thoughts. “Your old man had the authority to request another investigation into Rita’s death, but he refused. Boone never got over that shit. He found you in the woods and took you. He convinced us it was the best way to protect you from the arsonist.”
“How could Bones allow something so stupid?” The Soul Scorchers president was no dummy. I couldn’t imagine why he’d want to get involved in a situation that had such potential for a major backlash against the club.
“Bones will do anything to protect women and children, even stupid things.”
“I need you to pull over,” I whispered, overcome with renewed grief. Boone hated me and my dad. He’d used me. How could he fake his feelings for me? How could he be with Twila?
Seeming to sense my desperation, Crusher signaled and maneuvered the truck onto the right shoulder.
I scrambled out and rushed toward the ocean’s crashing waves. The familiar smell of sea kelp and salt water provided a hint of comfort that I wanted more of.
Following a well worn path through the high grass, I made it to the beach. Low lying fog hung over the surf like a blanket, and a few lone seagulls circled overhead, their cries sounding as forlorn as I felt. When I reached a nearby log, I almost collapsed, ignoring the damp wood poking my butt.
The tears I’d been holding back flooded my eyes before escaping down my cheeks. I let them fall untouched.
I don’t know how long I sat on that log sobbing and staring at the ocean, but when I was done, my heart felt like granite.
Boone Richards would regret the day he decided to fuck with me.
Ten Weeks Later
Boone
I watched the boys as they made their way up the walkway and into their school with a few other stragglers, only just making it inside before the first bell. The regular school year had started on Monday. JV came back out to wave. I saluted him and forced a smile.
The progress we’d made with Olympia in our lives had all but vanished, right along with her. JV cried every night, begging me to bring her back, while Joey tried to play Mr. Tough Guy, but I could see through his dismal act. He missed her as much as his younger brother, maybe more.
My injuries had healed perfectly, and I was in better shape now than I’d been the night of the fight, thanks to hours at the gym and increased time hiking. Doc took all the credit for my recovery. I let him. He’d done a good job sewing me up.
The bigger news was that since Olympia’s return to her normal life, there had been zero fires. Our lockdown had been lifted, and things around the club had returned to normal, sort of. We continued our search for the illusive arsonist, expecting he would eventually strike again, and I personally persisted with my inquiries about the man I’d met at the mayor’s mansion, with no success.
We had discovered something major, though; actually Spyder had. An individual in our club was feeding intel to the Guardians. Bones thought it might be more than one person. I believed those same individuals had been the ones fucking with Olympia, exposing her to the cheerleading photo.
Twila had made some offhanded comments to one of the old ladies that cast suspicion on her. Not a real shocker, as far as I was concerned. Worse, I’d been tasked with monitoring her, which put me in the worst possible position to win back Olympia.
I’d tried to contact her. I’d sent letters, emails, and stopped by the mansion half a dozen times. She’d ignored all my efforts. It didn’t help that she’d seen me out and about with Twila in recent weeks as part of my spy game.
The guys figured I’d have the best chance at getting Twila to reveal any secrets she might be keeping, considering her desire to sink her claws into me. So far, I’d managed to keep our ‘relationship’ purely platonic, citing that I was tired of fucking women and not really knowing them on a deeper level. What a line of bullshit. She’d bought my excuse with no argument, and was thrilled at the idea of knowing me better.
Truth was, I couldn’t bring myself to touch anyone besides Olympia.
I wasn’t sure how long I could last, though, without at least a blowjob to tide me over. It was pretty fucking amazing how I was doing my damndest stay true to someone who refused to even acknowledge me, let alone fuck me.
Maybe Twila had been right when she’d pointed out my current lack of bad-ass-ery.
At least there was one place where I was still the reigning badass – in the ring at our fight club.
If I was giving up sex, I sure as hell needed violence. Most nights I defended my title and increased my savings with every victory. Of course, the boys were suffering again in my absence. Twila tried to step in and help, but they were having none of that. I couldn’t blame them. I didn’t want a damn thing to do with the bitch either. I’d just as soon bury her and be done with it.
With most everything going wrong, one thing had turned out better than we could have ever anticipated.
Olympia had done right by the club. She’d told authorities that she had lost her memory –the truth – during the fire and had no recollection of where she’d spent the weeks following – a lie.
I’d been smart to have her hair color switched from bright burgundy to a more subtle blonde. Because of that dramatic switch, I was confident no one outside the club had recognized Olympia during her stay with us. I was pretty sure if they had, we’d know by now.
Her engagement to Conner Mills was big news for the town, especially as the wedding day approached. Seal’s Cove residents needed something positive to focus on after so many fires. A large-scale wedding was just the thing to keep folks gossiping and speculating.
According to the local gossip blog, the pair was planning a Christmas wedding, and everyone wanted an invite. Now that it was September, the time until the Big Day would accelerate, flying by in no time. I wasn’t sure I could survive the actual nuptials.
Maybe I’d crash the wedding and be the one person who protested when they asked if anyone disputed their holy fucking matrimony. I’d dispute, all right. Their relationship was a farce. She didn’t love him. Her eyes spoke volumes about her lack of feeling for the groom-to-be. I’d be doing them both a favor.
Like I had room to talk about phony relationships.
As for the top spot on my to-kill list, it was a tossup between Conner and Ringo. Some days, Ringo held the title, and other days it was the ATF schmuck all the way. Considering he had my woman and had taken away my fire fighter status, he spent more time as enemy numero uno.
Bottom line, they were both gonna be food for the sharks. It was just a matter of time and planning.
“You okay, man?” a voice interrupted my thoughts. “You’ve been standing out here staring at the school for awhile now. I’m head of security. Just checking in, making sure everything is okay.”
In other words, he suspected I was casing the property for some less than chivalrous reasons.
“My boys go here. Just dropping them off. Got lost in my thoughts. Worried about their school year. You know how it is.”
He scanned my much larger frame and forced a smile. “Boys can be difficult, so I hear. I have a girl. She’s still in diapers.”
I chuckled, hating how fake I sounded. “Enjoy the diaper phase while you can.”
Strolling across the street to the club’s new Jeep, I nearly tripped when Olympia pulled into an empty space in the school’s parking lot. She got out, clicking the car alarm’s remote and causing her BMW to beep. After adjusting her skirt, she strode toward the school, dressed to kill.
She was wearing a beige suit jacket and skirt that hit about an inch above her knees, showcasing her shapely calves. She’d completed the professional look with a sheer green blouse and matching pumps. Her hair was pulled up in some sophisticated twisty thing.
I’d never been one to analyze any woman’s attire, but I sure as hell was doing it now.
Memories of her wearing nothing but my cum intruded, making my cock stiffen. I smirked, remembering how she’d screamed my name. Th
ere was no way she’d forgotten how I could work her body. I was her first, after all. No other man could take that from me.
Starting to feel like a stalker, I forced my feet to move.
I had no idea what made her turn back, but she did, spotting me right away. Her jaw dropped, but she quickly composed herself, shooting daggers at me with her eyes.
Fuck. I can taste her…feel her body pressed against mine.
My fists clenched and released. I needed to kill someone. Preferably Ringo or the ATF scum who’d claimed my girl as his. Instead, I started toward her. Before I could cross the street, Conner’s silver Volvo zipped up to the curb next to her. I heard him holler, “You forgot your lunch, honey.”
She leaned in and accepted a bag, lingering for a kiss.
A second later, he beeped his horn and pulled away. She never looked back at either of us.
It was obvious. She’d moved on. It was time I did the same.
I’d find a new sub and reinvent myself as a full-fledged Dom, contract and all. I’d given up my control with Olympia, and I’d lost everything that made me who I was.
Never again.
Women. They were meant for fucking. Nothing more; nothing less.
I wouldn’t forget that simple truth. Golden pussy or not, it was just pussy.
Olympia
I managed to get through the school’s front door without reversing course and dashing across the street and into Boone’s arms. The image of his towering frame, standing so tall and sure, would haunt me right along with the memories of our time together.
In reality, it was Conner who stopped me from taking that first step toward the one man I couldn’t evict from my mind and making a fatal mistake.
Conner’s constant quest for order had brought him to the school. First day on the job without a lunch was something my fiancé evidently found unacceptable; he’d made sure to remedy that.
Gripping the bag in question, I leaned against the wall and practiced my breathing exercises.
Boone had never looked better. I’d never wanted him more.
Breathe…just breathe.
I’d been seeing a therapist in Portland to deal with my ‘missing’ memories and grief over my mom’s death. Considering half the things I shared with my counselor were lies, I wasn’t sure how much the sessions were helping. The breathing techniques had at least proven useful. Since leaving the Soul Scorchers clubhouse, and more specifically, Boone, I’d been prone to anxiety attacks. I felt on edge, like someone was watching me, waiting for an opportune time to attack. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t see them; I believed they were there.
The arsonist was still at large, though Conner insisted that without one single fire in the past two months, he’d likely moved on. The ATF believed their presence had finally pushed him toward different hunting grounds. But according to the hushed conversations, I’d overheard between Conner and his men, the danger remained very real. Their private questions and doubts fueled my paranoia. I had no problem imagining the worst possible scenarios.
Unfortunately, my father was just as paranoid, assigning body guards to protect me. I’d ditched them this morning, which hadn’t been easy, but I had no doubt they’d be here watching me work, anytime now, if they weren’t already inside.
The school liked the idea of additional onsite security, even if I was the one providing it. The fact it wouldn’t cost the school district anything extra, only sweetened the deal. Thankfully, with my dad’s influence and my perfect grades at the university, along with my traveling security squad, I’d been hired on as a floating teacher’s aide. I could hardly contain my excitement at being close to Boone’s boys again, even in a classroom setting.
I missed them more than I’d ever believed possible. I hated the idea that they might be suffering because of my absence in their lives. Though it seemed as if Twila had moved up from club whore status to official girlfriend, but I hadn’t seen her wearing a cut or property patch, which still gave me a sick sense of satisfaction.
Shortly after my leaving, Boone had sent me the promised leather vest, with ‘Property of Boone’ patched in big arced letters across the back. I kept the gift hidden away, but had tried it on several times, crying each time I looked in the mirror.
In the first few weeks, following my return home, he’d dropped by with a variety of excuses for visiting. He’d sent emails and texts, somehow managing to obtain my account information even after I changed it. As tempting as it was, I refused to read or acknowledge any of his lies, forcing myself to ignore his messages.
I’d already seen ‘the truth’ slobbering all over his dick, with my own eyes.
Even now, I cringed at the memory of Twila’s bobbing head.
Pushing aside the unholy vision, I finished another round of breathing exercises and glanced at my schedule. I’d be assisting Mrs. Flanagan, the third grade teacher, who just happened to be JV’s homeroom instructor.
I arrived at room number five to find my two bodyguards waiting for me by the door. I nodded but didn’t bother explaining my actions. Conner hadn’t even noticed they were missing, which was odd.
“You will not enter the classroom with me,” I snipped. “You’ll scare the children.”
“We’ll be right here. One of us at all times.”
“Whatever,” I muttered, opening the door.
Just like Boone, JV seemed to have some magnetic attraction to my presence. He saw me first and sprang from his seat and raced to my side. Throwing his arms around me, he hung on for dear life.
Before I could speak, a deafening bang, erupted from somewhere in the school. A few seconds later, the fire alarm blared.
I’d been briefed on fire drill procedures during orientation and hurried to help the teacher get students lined up and ready to exit the building. Most hadn’t even taken their seats yet and were storing away supplies in wall cubbies, making the task more difficult.
Another loud boom rocked the building, knocking pictures from the walls.
Those are bombs, and my arsonist is back. Told you so, Conner. See! I’m not paranoid.
The classroom door flew open, and Joey charged in, his eyes wild and searching. He surveyed the scene and located JV who was gripping my hand.
“Bombs are going off everywhere!” he shouted. “There’s so much blood…we have to get out of here. The regular exit plan won’t work.”
Mrs. Flanagan snapped back. “Young man, we will stick to our emergency plan, and stop scaring the children.”
“But…” he started, looking to me for help.
“Maybe we should listen to him. He’s been out in the halls; we haven’t.”
A third and fourth explosion shook our room.
Kids screamed, most were already in tears.
“Follow me!” I yelled, forgetting all protocol and heading for the large windows above the built-in bookcases.
Guessing my intentions, Joey grabbed the fire extinguisher off the wall. I slammed it into the glass three times, shattering the window. Yanking a colorful rug from the floor near the reading area, I used it to punch out more of the glass to create a safer exit. I hung the rug over the bottom of the gaping hole.
The teacher looked torn. I didn’t bother waiting for her approval, grabbing a chair for the kids to climb on. Thank God the shelves were only about three feet high.
“Joey, JV…through the window and into the woods behind the school. Are you coming?” I turned to Mrs. Flanagan.
“I can’t…”
Ignoring her, I took charge. “Kids, were going through the window. Who likes to climb and play escape?”
About half raised their hands.
“Great! Let’s go through the hole, one at a time, as fast as we can. Then run to the woods across the field.”
One by one, they obeyed, until they’d all exited and were crossing the field.
Smoke was pouring into the classroom from under the door. I wondered for half a second where my bodyguards had disappeared to, b
ut followed the distraught teacher through the opening in the glass just as the biggest blast yet tore through the school, collapsing the classroom’s ceiling, raining drywall and debris into the space we’d just escaped from.
I landed wrong on my left ankle, and yelped. Why do I twist my ankle during every fire escape?
“Go!”I yelled at a few kids who’d stopped to see what was holding me up.
Joey and JV were waiting mid-field for me to follow, I pointed at the trees. Reluctantly, they backed toward the forest, keeping their eyes on me.
With great effort, I started to limp after the fleeing students.
I’d taken my third excruciating step, when an arm circled my waist, and a calloused hand covered my mouth.
I heard JV scream, “No! M-o-o-om!”
More eruptions behind me sent a flare of heat my direction, scorching my back.
And then there was nothing.
I struggled to catch my breath. A strange chemical scent filled my nostrils, and I tried to swallow. Where was I? No! Please! Not again!
Another fire…but this time, I remembered everything.
“Boone?” I whispered, unable to speak any louder. “Am I okay? Please let it be him.
I knew it wasn’t, but saying his name provided a sprinkle of hope.
“Sorry, kitten. No Boone here,” a deep male voice confirmed what I’d already figured out. “You’ll be okay, as long as you obey me.”
Oh God. I know that voice.
“You recognize me, don’t you?”
I sighed, feeling angry rather than scared, which was plain ridiculous considering I’d been abducted by a biker far worse than Boone ever was or would be.
He grabbed my blouse and yanked me up.
O-kay…now I was terrified. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing him to go away.
“Open your eyes, bitch.”
When I hesitated, he backhanded me across the cheek and released his hold on my shirt at the same time. Tumbling to the floor, I clutched my face, blood poured from my nose.
I somehow opened my eyes.
