BLAMELESS: MC Biker Romance (Black Thorns, #3)

by Franca Storm

His free hand is clutching the door frame for support. He looks exhausted. He has prominent dark circles under his eyes and they still look a little glazed, meaning whatever he’d had in his system isn’t completely out yet.

  “You do it, or not?” Ax barks at him.

  “Don’t really matter, does it?”

  “What? What are you talking about?” I cry, spinning around to face him and breaking his grip on my shoulder. “Of course it matters, Zeb.”

  He shakes his head. But he doesn’t look at me. His gaze is focused on Ax as he says, “Were Jase, but just as easily coulda been me. He gave me a taste for it again and that ain’t going away.” He draws in a breath, before going on, “Take it to church. Vote me out.”

  “Runner—” Smiter starts.

  But Zeb holds up his hand. “Nah, brother. Club’s come a real long way. I ain’t gonna be the one to screw all that up. Means too much to me.”

  He takes an uneasy step back and says, “Promise me, Ax. Promise me you’ll look after my girl.”

  When Ax just stands there shell-shocked, Zeb presses, “Ax? ‘Til you deal with Jase and Torvin, she ain’t safe.”

  “Yeah. Won’t let nobody touch her,” Ax says, his voice barely audible, barely more than a strained whisper.

  And then, before any of us can get another word out, Zeb walks out.

  None of us can speak. We’re all in shock.

  Zeb’s just…he’s just given up? Just like that?

  He’s quit the club? And…me?

  I don’t…this can’t be happening.

  ***

  As I run down the clubhouse steps, I can already hear the roar of a bike. No! No! No! Not yet!

  I see him then. He’s already on his bike. The engine’s going.

  “Zeb!” I call as loudly as I can over the roar of the engine. “Wait! Zeb!”

  He turns his head, thankfully hearing me. A second later, he kills the engine and shifts his weight on the saddle so he’s half turned towards me.

  When I reach him, I lose control and slam my fist into the saddle.

  He jumps. “Jesus Christ!”

  “You don’t get to do this, Zeb! You don’t!” I scream at him.

  He blows out a breath and runs his hand through his hair. “Leave it, Sarah.”

  “Leave it?” I ask, incredulous. Does he really think I can do that?

  “Yeah, leave it. It’s done. Is what it is.”

  “No, it’s not done. The club is your life. Everything to you.”

  “And that’s why I’m doing this. You get that? Me being here right now with all the shit I’m bringing and all the heat, it’s hurting the club and putting it in danger. And it’s cuz I care so much ‘bout Thorns that I can’t let that happen.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  He shakes his head. “Remember what Rox said that first day you came up here? The day we had that misunderstanding?”

  Misunderstanding? Really? Fine. I’ll let that one slide. Other things are more important right now. “Yeah,” I answer.

  “She said I were always thinking I were blameless and that nothing’s ever my fault. Said I never take responsibility for nothing. Well, this…what I’m doing here…it’s me doing that for once. Doing the right thing for once.”

  “No. You’re giving up. I get it, Zeb. I really do. A lot has happened. A lot of bad stuff. I know what it’s like when the darkness is closing in and you can’t see a way out. There comes a point when you just want to close your eyes and let it take you, because you think the pain will stop then. But it won’t. Trust me. It won’t. You can’t let it win. You can’t give up.”

  “Sarah, fuck.” He turns away and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You don’t get it. You don’t.” He looks back at me and angrily points to his head. “This shit in here? It don’t leave. Never. What Jase did…I can’t just get over that. No talking, no addiction meetings, or nothing is gonna fix it. Cuz it’s a part of me and after twenty years of keeping it buried, him shooting me up has ripped all that wide open. And now it won’t leave me. There ain’t no way outta that. Not this time ‘round. So, you think you understand, but…you and me…what we been through…it ain’t the same.”

  “You’ve done it before. You’ve beat the addiction in the past, Zeb. You can do it again.” I reach out and grab his hand, squeezing it gently. “And I’ll be right here to help you.”

  He pulls his hand from my hold. “What’s the point?”

  “What?”

  “I been clean twenty years, Sarah. Twenty years. And now I’m right back at square one. So what were it all for? What’s the point in doing it again if this is always the way it’s gonna end up? It’s in me, woman. It’s who I am. Why else would it keep coming back? Why the hell else can’t I escape it for real? For good?”

  “You didn’t do it. Jase did. It’s not the same. You haven’t willingly taken anything.”

  “I wanted to!” he roars. He slams his fist down on the handlebars. “I want to right now! Every second of the day!”

  “Fight it. For the club, Zeb. You told me you’d ride with the club until the day that you died.”

  His eyes are intense as he tells me, soberly, “I know. ‘Til the day I die. I meant it.”

  What? What the hell does that mean? “Zeb?”

  When he doesn’t offer anything up, I step closer and lay my hand on his forearm. “Please, Zeb. I don’t want to lose you. Please. Do it for me. I love you.”

  He doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at my hand on his arm. He doesn’t say it back.

  “You told me you loved me, too,” I press. I can’t let him shutdown here. I need to get through to him, to help him.

  He pulls his hand away and adjusts his weight on his bike. It looks like he’s getting ready to leave.

  “I say a lot of shit to a lot of women,” he grits out, without looking at me.

  My reaction’s instantaneous.

  My hand comes at the side of his face, before I can stop it, slapping him hard across the cheek.

  He grunts at the impact.

  But he still doesn’t look at me.

  “Zeb!”

  He fires up his bike, still not answering me.

  “You don’t get to make me love you and then walk away like this!” I scream at him.

  He stills at my words.

  I watch him grip the handlebars tightly.

  And then he yells, “Fuck!” He finally looks at me as he screams back at me, “I screwed up with you, okay? I knew it the second I laid my hands on you! You ain’t for me. You’re too good. An angel. You don’t belong with a fucked up bastard like me. I never shoulda done nothing with you. You deserve better. And when this shit’s over with Torvin, you can get the hell outta here and find that. I ain’t the guy to give you that. Were a mistake, Sarah. A real big mistake.” He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, before choking out, “I’m sorry, darlin’. Really am.”

  I’ve never been in love before, so I never really understood what people truly meant about something ripping your heart out.

  But now I do.

  Now I get it.

  I feel it.

  It really does feel like his words are reaching into my chest and physically tearing out my heart. That’s how much they hurt.

  I can’t breathe.

  I can’t speak.

  All I can do is stand here in a haze of disbelief as he starts his bike and tears towards the gates.

  As he leaves me.

  Chapter 25

  ~Runner~

  I look myself over in the mirror.

  It’s like I’m looking at the kid from twenty years back.

  No cut. Just my old suede jacket. Giant pupils, just like every day back then, cuz I were always so high. Ain’t high right now, though. My eyes are looking like it from some drops I put in ‘em to play it off that way. Need him to think I am.

  Graying hair and the damn age lines on my face are the only things that show some time has passed. Cuz, really, I’
m right back where I started.

  Thanks to him.

  Fucking Jase.

  Guess I got lucky, really. Nobody escapes a guy like him and I managed it for two decades.

  The thing is, now it ain’t just me on his radar. Cuz of his business partnership with Torvin, it’s also Sarah.

  And I can’t accept that.

  I might be done. Might be on my way out. But I ain’t gonna be at peace, knowing she’s still in danger. One last thing I gotta do is protect her.

  After tonight, Jase ain’t gonna be a threat to nobody. I’m gonna do what the club ain’t gonna. Don’t want it to neither. It would screw up how hard Ax has worked to get it legit. But right now I ain’t club, so I’m gonna take care of it. Take care of him.

  I step back from the mirror and make my way into the living room.

  I catch sight of the bottle of scotch I were drinking last night when I got back here. There’s only a few drops left in it. Hell, I’d needed it last night after that blow up with Sarah. Her fucking words…Jesus Christ...they’d cut into me. She weren’t even sure I loved her by the end of it. I wanted her to hate me. It’s easier on her that way. Especially with what I’m gonna do once I’ve taken care of Jase.

  I want her to live her life. Little angel deserves to be happy.

  I wanted to plant that hatred in her, cuz I don’t deserve her tears. Don’t want her crying over me. Don’t want her…mourning me neither. Were real hard doing it and saying all that to her. Real painful.

  I can’t believe it’s come to this. I’ve always been a man who’s stood up and fought. My entire life I been that way. Never turned and run from nothing or nobody. But now…being pulled back into this shit…I can’t do it again.

  The fight’s already lost.

  I reach for the bottle. My hands are shaking. Mark of an addict right there. Fuck me. I shake my head to myself and step back. Can’t drink. Not now. Bitch of it is, I know it’ll dull the shaking and give my head a brief break from the addiction nagging at me, begging me to take something.

  But I gotta keep a clear head for what I’m ‘bout to do.

  I pat down my jacket and jeans, just double checking I ain’t packing nothing.

  I know Jase. First thing he’s gonna do when we meet up is check that out.

  Nah. Nothing.

  I ain’t worried.

  A lot’s changed for me since me and Jase used to hang together.

  He ain’t got no clue that I don’t gotta have a weapon on me to kill a man.

  He’s gonna find that out tonight.

  ***

  “You’re late, little brother,” Jase tells me as I swing my leg over my bike and make my way across the parking lot of the truck stop towards him. He’s leaning against the window of an old cafe. The place is abandoned now. Used to be hopping ‘til an infamous shootout a couple of years back between the Devil’s Mavericks, Rox, Ax and Smiter. After that it kinda put everybody off coming here.

  The place is a few miles outside the City of Brockford.

  Deserted.

  Just what I need.

  “Took me some time to check you kept your word.” I spent the last half hour scoping out the place, making sure he really did come alone. Never know with him. But this time, he’s kept his word. He’s alone. No muscle. No Torvin. Nobody. Guess he were willing to take the risk, considering what he thinks I’m offering. Me coming back into the fold.

  “Well, as you can see, I did.”

  I come to a stop a couple of feet in front of him. “Rare, ain’t it?”

  He don’t rise to my comment. Instead, I see him staring at me. At my eyes.

  “What you on?” he asks, smiling and looking happy ‘bout it. Sick bastard.

  “You know how I roll, Jase.”

  He nods. “Your favorite? E?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Must be real amazing riding on it.”

  “You got no idea.” He don’t ride. Never has. And how dumb is he? No way nobody could ride hopped up on that shit. Well, not without crashing and burning anyway.

  He shifts his weight and asks, “You rode through Brockford, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, you saw it?”

  “Yeah, you kept your end of the deal. Torvin’s offices are all packed up and abandoned.”

  “Promised you, didn’t I? Him out for you coming back in.”

  “Promised me shit before, Jase.”

  “This is different. When I make a business deal, I never go back on it. You know that.”

  Yeah, I do. It’s what I’d been counting on.

  Now Sarah, nor the club, have gotta worry ‘bout going through Jase to take down Torvin no more. Ax can handle Torvin. He can deal with that. But Jase woulda been another thing altogether, cuz of all the shit he’s connected to. Woulda dragged the club into some bad shit. But Torvin’s just a suit who had some good backing in Jase. And now he don’t. Be easy to take him down now.

  “Hands out to the sides,” he orders me, stepping forward.

  As he moves, patting me down, his suit jacket rides up. My stomach lurches as I catch sight of a .45 holstered at his hip. Fuck. This is the first time I’ve ever seen him packing. Hard to believe he even knows how to shoot. He’s always had his muscle for that.

  “Good,” he says, stepping back. “You followed my orders.”

  “Yeah,” I grit out.

  “There was a time when you always did, little brother. A time when you looked up to me. You see, at the end of the day, I’m your family. Not that club. They ain’t blood, Zeb. And they don’t got the bond with you that I do. After mom and dad died in that car accident, I was the one looking after you. Guess you’ve finally remembered that, huh?” He shakes his head then and I see something real rare in his eyes. Emotion. “Twenty years, Zeb? Twenty years you made me believe you were in the ground. You hated me that much?”

  “Weren’t ‘bout hate, Jase.”

  “What was it then?” he roars. “I gave you everything!”

  There’s that dangerous temper again. I watch his hand brush his hip where that piece is holstered. But just for a second.

  “Everything? You made me into a junkie!”

  His eyes flash and he storms over to me, getting in my face. “I just gave you a push.”

  “Like hell. You made me into this,” I growl at him.

  A malicious smirk crosses his face as he tells me, “That shit’s in you, little brother. It’s who you’ll always be.” He fists his hands in my jacket and jerks me into him. “You know it, too. That’s why you’re coming back to me. You know nobody will ever accept what you are, but me. You thought you were better than me. Better than the life I built for us, Zeb! But what I did to you, I did for a reason. Cuz I knew. Once a man tastes that shit, there’s no going back. It seeps into you. You become it. And it’s what you’ll always be now. A dirty junkie.” He lets go of me roughly and spits, “There’s no escape from that. No way out of it.”

  “There’s one way.”

  “What?”

  “I ain’t gonna let it dig my grave for me.”

  Shock plays on his face and I know he gets what I’m saying. He starts shaking his head, pain in his eyes. “You weren’t really planning on coming back to me,” he realizes out loud. “You came here to say goodbye. You’re gonna end it…end your life.”

  My eyes narrow and I take a step towards him. “Not just mine.”

  Before he can react, I lunge at him.

  I slam into him hard, taking him across the waist in a football tackle.

  Guess I got more pent-up rage towards him than I even realized, cuz I drive him right into one of the huge cafe windows. The cheap glass explodes ‘round us and we crash through it. I grit my teeth as I feel shards of glass slice into my face and through my leather jacket and jeans. The bites of pain kick start my adrenaline and, as we both hit the floor, I react real fast, rolling to my side and jumping back to my feet.

  He grunts, tryin’ to lift himself up fr
om the wreckage of a table all ‘round him. He might be stronger and bigger than me, but he ain’t never been faster. And in this moment, it’s all ‘bout speed.

  I dive towards him, straddling him as I grab for the gun in his holster. I yank it out, but before I can do anything else he grabs my arm. I smash my fist of my free hand into his face. His head snaps to the side and his grip loosens.

  But then he jabs the heel of his hand into my throat. It’s so brutal that it has me choking. It screws with my grip on the gun and it hits the floor. Shit. Lucky the goddamn safety were still on.

  Jase lunges for it, but I throw my leg out and manage to kick it away across the cafe floor.

  I push off him quickly and stumble back tryin’ to catch my breath.

  But he don’t give me that time.

  His fist comes at my face. I grunt as it slams into my cheek, knocking me back a step.

  “You think you can play me!” he roars, socking me brutally hard in the gut next. Once. Twice. I fall back into the counter.

  Another left hook from him has me spitting up blood over the damn floor. Instinctively, I bring my fists up to my face, a defensive move to minimize some damage. Shit.

  As he keeps wailing on me, I see a flash of movement to my left. He’s grabbing for something. A second later, he smashes a bottle of syrup down on the edge of the counter right next to me.

  “You’d try to kill your own brother!” he screams, his left hand wrapping ‘round my throat and making me gag from the pressure.

  Adrenaline rips through me as he holds the broken bottle in front of my face. The neck’s completely broken off and it’s sharp and jagged.

  He brings it down.

  My training kicks in and my hand shoots out, grabbing his wrist, just before it makes contact.

  “You ain’t no brother of mine, Jase!”

  He snarls at me and I can feel him pushing harder. Both our hands are shaking from the effort.

  “Thought this is what you wanted? Death? Why you fighting me on it? I can end it right here and now for you, little brother.”

  I thrust my knee up into his gut.

  “Cuz you gotta be dead first!”

  His grip ‘round my neck loosens. I grab his hand with my free one and yank it off my neck. Then I push up on his wrist holding the bottle, raising it above my head. I turn into him and slam my elbow up into his armpit. It has the automatic effect of breaking his grip. I rip the bottle free and toss it behind the counter. The thing smashes into a million pieces, raining glass everywhere.