by Bijou Hunter
During our kiss, I fell hard for the impossibly handsome biker. Later, I tumbled even harder into a dark place that I haven’t quite escaped.
THE CHAPTER WHERE FAMILY IS MORE THAN BLOOD
THE SENTINEL
Shelby Campbell went nuts over a large, grumpy member of the former motorcycle club running Shasta. When we took over, Goliath—aka Dean—was in prison. He got out just after we fucked up what was left of his former club. If he had been released a few months earlier, he wouldn’t have survived long enough to make Shelby chase after his giant ass.
Now, they’re a happy family in their cabin-style house. If I needed more proof Shelby loved the big grump, she agreed to live out here in the woods. This is a woman convinced werewolves are real and petrified of the demons from “Evil Dead.” I don’t know how she isn’t in a constant state of terror from living in monster territory.
This morning, when we arrive, the again-pregnant Shelby stands on her house’s front porch. Little Kirby claps at the sight of us climbing off my Harley. Then, the one-year-old looks at her father exiting the house. Already a daddy’s girl, Kirby reaches for him. Goliath takes his daughter, who immediately latches on to his beard to keep him from ditching her. The kid is as stubborn as her mother.
Speaking of tenacious, Shelby looks ready to give me shit. First, she hugs Violet while casually noticing the blonde’s beat-up knuckles.
“I thought you were staying over last night,” she says to her adopted daughter.
“I messaged you about sleeping at Maverick’s.”
“I know, but I worried.”
Though Violet gets the message, she doesn’t acknowledge Shelby’s concerns. Mellow this morning, she only wants to get out of the chilly weather. Even wearing black sweatpants, a long sleeve pink thermal top, and her black wool coat, she shivers wildly.
Violet offers me one last, lingering glance and a faint smile before heading into the house. Once we’re alone, Shelby focuses on me, and her expression goes sideways from loving to grumpy.
“Maverick Majors, I feel as if I should forbid Violet from spending time with you,” she mutters like a dutiful mother hen. “You’re bound to get her into trouble.”
Strolling closer, I calmly explain, “I’ve told you that I take a pic of each asshole’s driver’s license and mirror their phones’ contents. If they report anything to the cops, I can find them, destroy them, steal from them, whatever I want. Meanwhile, they’ll have to explain to the police how a girl beat them up.”
“They can just lie.”
“And get me in trouble rather than Violet? Where’s the downside to that?”
Wearing a disapproving frown, Shelby rubs her swollen belly. “You’re feeding the ugly side of Violet.”
“Something has to, or else it’ll overwhelm her.”
Shelby’s hazel eyes reveal a genuine concern, and I think to hug her. Affection doesn’t come naturally to me, though. And Goliath hates when other men touch Shelby. Maybe she ought to ask him for a hug. Or get one from Violet or her baby girl. Basically, the hug shouldn’t come from me.
Sighing, Shelby leans against the porch railing. “I wish she’d move in here full-time.”
“I know.”
“Can’t you use your sexual mojo to convince her to live here?”
“Shelby Campbell,” I start.
“Yes, Maverick Majors?”
“You and I both know her future isn’t in this house,” I say and add another blade to her back. “Or this town. Violet’s best bet at surviving her broken mind is to get the fuck out of Shasta.”
“You’re evil,” Shelby hisses, tears filling her eyes. “I’m so fat, and you’re picking on me.”
Smiling, I pat her shoulder. Despite Goliath hiding somewhere in the house with Kirby, I swear I hear him growling in reaction to my touching his woman.
“The Victorian ties her to the past with her family and the day O’Meara took her,” I remind Shelby. “But Violet won’t leave it fully because a part of her is convinced she’s dead.”
Shelby wraps her arms around her chest and hugs herself. “She needs therapy.”
“You tried that. Maybe if she was locked up somewhere with intensive therapy, Violet might snap out of it. But we won’t do that, right?”
Shaking her head, Shelby sighs. “I want her to be happy.”
“You and Goliath are the parents Violet wished she had growing up. But, just like how you left your parents to start over here, she’ll need to say goodbye to Shasta.”
“Are you thinking Ellsberg?” she asks, glancing back through the screen door after hearing Kirby laughing inside.
“There’s nothing for me to do in Ellsberg.”
“Ellsberg has a support system.”
“Not for Violet. I’m thinking Pema.”
“No,” she gasps. “That place is awful.”
“You said the same thing about Shasta.”
“Yeah, and I wasn’t wrong,” Shelby grumbles, flashing an unimpressed frown at the surrounding area.
“But without moving to Shasta, you’d never have met Goliath or had Kirby. This town might be awful, but you and your friends created families here.”
“Whatever,” Shelby mutters, not falling for my positive bullshit. “I don’t believe Pema is safe.”
“Why?”
“In Ellsberg, you have your family and mine.”
“In Pema, I’ll have the O’Keefe kids.”
“You’ve never been close with them,” Shelby says. “What would you even do there? It’s a small chapter with no president.”
“I heard Colton Johansson’s got himself a woman now and plans to take over the Pema chapter.”
“Don’t they have plenty of muscle there? What do they need with another enforcer?”
“I’m thinking VP.”
Shelby stops her pouty sniffling long enough to laugh at me. “You never want to talk to anyone.”
“Shane doesn’t talk to anyone, either. He watches River’s back, gives him advice, acts as a sounding board. Shit, I can do that.”
“Maybe with your brother, but I can’t see you acting subservient to Colton Johansson.”
“Wait, do you think Shane is subservient to River?” I tease while fighting a chuckle. “Does he know you see him that way?”
“You know what I mean. Stop stirring up shit to distract the poor emotional pregnant lady.”
“You started it.”
Shelby smirks. “I can’t imagine you working with Colton.”
“Why not? He’s essentially a mix of his father and uncle. I’m like my dad. Those three men have worked together for decades.”
“Oh, baby,” she says, patting my cheek. “You’re nothing like your dad. People read him like a book. You’re more like a David Lynch film where people have to go online to understand what they just watched. Colton will need a damn road map to figure you out.”
“Then, I’ll make him one. For Violet, I’m willing to change.”
As Shelby’s gaze softens, she looks at me in the way she did before Violet and I fell into a gravitational dance together. Mama Hen doesn’t think her broken girl is ready to be in a relationship. While she’s likely right, Violet wants me. Whenever she thinks I don’t want her or we can’t be together, I see another crack in her self-control. Best-case scenario, she cries. Worst case, she tests her “already dead” theory by ending her life.
Together, Violet and I’ve suffered through a lot of stops and starts. While she’s broken, I’m better suited to stay hidden in the shadows. We don’t make sense to Shelby.
Of course, her love for the overly grumpy giant made me think she was punking herself. Eventually, their relationship clicked. Now, Shelby and Goliath function as a unit in the same way as Violet and I will one day.
THE GHOST
Standing near the front windows, I watch Maverick and Shelby talk outside. The wind picks up, throwing his blond bangs around his impossibly handsome face. Maverick doesn’t react to the
ir movement. He’s unflinching in most situations. Unreadable, too. If he didn’t say he loved me, I’d never be able to tell from his expressions or body language.
But I believe his words. If he’s a fantasy in my head, I’ve created him to love me. If he’s real, then he has no reason to lie about his feelings.
After all, I went bananas the first—and only—time he kissed me. He could have stepped back then. Instead, he only learned to love me more.
Except for our one kiss, we’re never physical. Men want to fuck, yet I won’t even let him hold my hand. Maverick enjoys no obvious benefits out of saying he loves me unless he, in fact, loves me.
That’s why I believe his words. And also, why I have plans to get closer soon. I need to stop starring in this “A Very Special Episode of Violet” and walk away from all the drama. My plan now is to transform myself into “Easy, Breezy Sex Goddess.”
Maverick walks to his Harley and throws his long, powerful leg over the bike. Even though he never shows a hint of self-consciousness, I know he’s aware I’m watching. Maverick exists in a protective bubble created by his coolness. Not a squishy-surfaced bubble, either. No, he’s wrapped in hard armor. I doubt much can break through it.
Once he rides away and Shelby enters her house, I leave the window. In my bag, I locate the pink cotton gloves I bought at one of those cheap stores where everything is a buck. Though they aren’t very warm, the gloves hide my battered knuckles. Touching innocent Kirby with my ugly hands feels wrong.
I hang my bag and jacket inside the closet. After the house was built, Shelby even assigned me a special spot for my things. She often makes such gestures to help people feel special.
Turning to her, I find my surrogate mother watching me with worried eyes. I can’t cope with her judgment or the burden of wanting to please her. Not right now, anyway.
Having finally released Dean’s beard, Kirby sits on the floor with her toys. The baby is fifteen-months-old and walks well enough but still prefers to crawl when she wants to haul ass across a room. Kirby’s short, uneven hair—thick and dark like both of her parents—is tied up in pigtails. She’s wearing the pink panda shirt and pants Grandma Winnie bought.
I settle down on the floor next to Kirby, who hands me a block. She says something I don’t understand. Mostly because Kirby inserts “Mommy” and “Daddy” randomly into her sentences. So, all I hear is, “Walk Mommy dog block Daddy.”
Of course, Kirby isn’t really talking to me. She’s just practicing for when she’s older and needs to put people in their place like her mama does.
Playing with Kirby is part of my job. I also cook a little, clean a tiny bit, take the dogs for walks, and help Shelby during her day. As this morning inches along, Kirby and I move to her little dollhouse located in the living room. She stands up when she hears the music her mom puts on over the house’s sound system. The little girl bounces, looking like a liquored-up version of Shelby.
I hear Dean chuckle nearby at the sight of his little girl “Gettin' Jiggy Wit It.” In contrast, Shelby stands in the kitchen, looking on the verge of tears.
“My heart,” she whimpers.
Dean hugs her from behind since her belly makes front embraces tricky. Shelby leans back against him and whispers something about me. There are only two topics that upset Shelby these days—my problems and her migraines returning after giving birth. I helped get her through the first few after Kirby was born. She was not a happy camper, hiding in the dark, puking, and barely able to engage with her new baby.
But migraines don’t bother Shelby during pregnancy, so she has a few weeks of peace left. Which means I’m the reason she’s teary-eyed and sighing.
Dean remains at the house longer than usual before he finally heads to work. After he leaves, I play with Kirby, building little towns the French bulldogs knock over when they get curious. Then, my playmate decides the obnoxious canines need bows on their ears. Kirby really is her mother’s child.
By eleven, Kirby sits in her high chair, messily eating beef macaroni. At the table with us, Shelby subtly tries to approach the topic bothering her.
When she can’t voice her fear, I say, “Maverick is taking me to Pema next week.”
“For what?”
“To look around and see if we like it. He also wants to talk to Colton Johansson.”
“Why Pema? There are other towns with Reapers chapters.”
Shrugging, I avoid her gaze. “There’s nothing for Maverick to do in Ellsberg, and Conroe is run by Bailey Johansson. He doesn’t want to be bossed around by her or her mama’s boys. Pema needs leadership, and Maverick is really smart. River doesn’t need him here.”
Though overexplaining the situation, I need Shelby to accept what she’s been struggling with for months. After she and her merry band of bikers saved me, I hid at the Victorian. Then, everyone moved to their own homes. After the place got quiet, I struggled with what was real.
Shelby’s solution was to take me out more. Except everywhere I go, I have to pretend to be Maverick’s sister from Ellsberg. If people realize I’m Violet Navarro rather than one of the Majors girls, they’ll ask questions we aren’t willing to answer.
In her heart, Shelby knows I can’t remain in Shasta. Hiding at the Victorian or her house is one thing, but I want to be with Maverick. His apartment is in a busier part of Shasta. Someone will recognize me. A few people likely have but don’t dare admit the truth out loud. Not everyone in Shasta will be so careful. The Reapers have made enemies here, and outing me would be a delicious way to cause the club trouble.
“During your trip, will you share a room?” Shelby asks and then whispers, “Or even a bed?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Shelby studies me. “Are you at the point where that’s even a consideration?”
“Pema isn’t Shasta, and Maverick isn’t Barry O’Meara,” I mumble while moving the beef macaroni around on my plate. “Those two facts might help me push past my issues. We’ll hold hands and kiss. Things will be different there. I won’t have to pretend to be his sister. I can be a girl with a hot boyfriend.”
Smiling softly, Shelby already knows I’ll be better off somewhere else. Shasta isn’t safe. Even without people outing me, this town offers too many bad memories.
But Shelby Campbell doesn’t love anyone half-ass. She’s taken me into her heart, viewing me as her adopted daughter.
I’m not a child, though, and I want Maverick Majors. Not part-time or only when people aren’t looking. How can I ever believe this life is real if I can’t enjoy the best parts with an audience?
And that’s something Shasta will never offer.
THE SENTINEL
Dealing with alphas in a culture overflowing with them has proven easy for me. For example, River is an arrogant, violent motherfucker hiding behind the smiling mask of a happy hippie. His best friends—Shane, Shelby, and Taylor—often push back against his ego. On the flip side, the men in his club just smile and wave like a bunch of terrified morons. They’re right to fear River. My brother is a man who prefers to solve problems by killing them.
Back in Ellsberg, men aren’t as afraid of Cooper Johansson. They respect him, and a few might piss themselves under his dark gaze. Mostly, though, they trust in the lineage behind the Johansson name.
Cooper’s inner circle includes his brother, my father, Shelby and Shane’s father, and Judd O’Keefe. Each man uses a different tactic with the man in charge. Tucker yells stupid shit very loudly at his older brother. Vaughn offers a tactical viewpoint, softly as if trying to seduce his president. Judd is known to keep to himself until he’s heard everyone’s thoughts and only then declares his opinion. Dylan is more of a yes man. Some club guys push hard, others push soft, a few don’t push at all. Yet, each man needs to know how to maneuver their president, or else they’ll end up in an unmarked grave.
Not that I’m worried about Colton Johansson burying me. Our families go way back, and my parents would not be cool with the
Johanssons killing one of their kids. But mostly, I don’t believe Colton Johansson has the heart to kill me. He was raised to lead rather than get his hands dirty. He’ll need a guy like me to do the ugly stuff, but finding a balance between our personalities might prove difficult. When River gets on my nerves or wags his dick for the world to worship, I ignore him. I’ve built up a tolerance to his bullshit over the last twenty-six years.
But will ignoring Colton’s dick wagging work?
“Pema, huh?” River asks, cornering me when I arrive at our clubhouse—Dirty Toes Saloon—where he and Shane talk business. The place isn’t open for lunch yet, leaving us to speak in the open.
“I need a new home for Violet.”
Shane sighs deeply, blowing air all over me. I pretend as if punching him wouldn’t make me happy.
“Violet needs a family,” he says after exhaling too much, “and Shelby won’t move to Pema.”
Sliding into a booth, I’m soon joined by River pressing in on my left side and Shane on my right. Cocking an eyebrow, I ask, “You can’t possibly be trying to intimidate me. Just imagine how hard the family will laugh when they hear about this.”
Rolling his eyes, River backs off. “No need to act like a bratty little bro. We’re just concerned.”
I smile at my brother. “Bullshit. Your real concern is if I’m not around, you’ll have to remember shit that you currently do not need to remember. You’re just lazy.”
“I can do whatever you do,” Shane insists.
“Then, why don’t you do it already?”
“I show pity for your self-esteem by letting you do it,” he says, and River smirks.
“Yeah, this is what I’ll miss most. You two acting like twats and waiting for Shelby or Taylor to show up for high-fives.”
“They’re big fans,” River says, crossing his thick arms. “You and Colton will be a problem.”
