Charity

by Davida Lynn

When we pulled back into his driveway, I had nothing left. He saw it, and for the second time, he picked me up and carried me into his house. He was easy and slow with it, anticipating my recoil. It wasn’t there this time.

  Maybe it was the extreme tiredness, or actually feeling closer to Zane, but I let him scoop me up into his thick arms. It was a far better experience than it had been during my panic attack earlier in the week. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my eyes tracing the tattoos that weaved up his body.

  He pulled me inside his house, and the couch where we’d first had sex caught my eye. I smiled, leaned forward and laid a soft kiss on his cheek. Zane smiled at me as he carried me through his home. I closed my eyes and took in his manly smell.

  Again, he laid me in his bed. This time, I helped him take my clothes off. When I’d again been reduced to my bra and panties, Zane slid me under the covers.

  “We’ll talk in the morning.” He turned out the light.

  I woke up at nearly noon. Not bothering with the sheet this time, I stepped out into the hallway. Zane’s legs dangling over the edge of the couch was a welcome sight. Even though our relationship had started with secrets and lies, I felt comforted knowing it was exactly as it had been a few days before.

  I smiled and watched him lightly snoring. He was wearing the briefs that had beautifully accentuated his package a few days back. I couldn't help myself then, but now I felt a little uneasy. I was still so shaken up by everything with Jason. I felt guilty, too. I had slept with Jason as an attempt to bury my feelings for Zane. It was foolish, but I felt like I had cheated.

  The pact we had made was completely meaningless to me as I stood over his sleeping body. I didn’t want protection for sex. I didn’t want a bodyguard. I wanted a man. I wanted my man.

  I wanted him again. I saw him lying there, his muscles and tattoos on full display, and I wanted him, but I couldn’t forgive myself quite yet. Instead, I tiptoed past him to the kitchen. I wanted him to wake up to the smells of breakfast again. Half of the bacon and most of the eggs were still in his fridge.

  With the coffee brewing, I threw the bacon into the oven. As it slowly cooked, I scrambled up some eggs. I heard him rustling in the living room, but I would wait until he was ready.

  He hadn’t eaten anything at the diner, so I figured that he would be hungry. I figured wrong. From the kitchen, I heard the shower fire up. I turned down the heat on the eggs. It would be a while before Zane came around.

  As I set the bacon on the range, I turned to see Zane standing in the doorway to the kitchen. His dark hair was still wet, and he had just a towel wrapped around his body. My heart raced, and not just from the shock of him sneaking up on me.

  “Jesus, you scared me.” I held my hand over my heart.

  He grinned. “Whoops.” I could tell that if the towel dropped, his stiff cock would be waiting for me below. That desire was in his eyes. I tried to tell myself I was ready, but I could feel the beginnings of a panic attack at the thought of sex with anyone, let alone Zane.

  “I know those eyes,” I said, trying to be very diplomatic and steer his thoughts elsewhere. “How about breakfast first?”

  He nodded. Part of me hoped he would throw on some clothes to eat, but when he sat down at the table in just his towel, I thought to myself, at least you can enjoy the view. I smiled and pulled the only two plates in the cabinet down.

  We ate in silence, but it was comfortable. I would look up at him from time to time and smile. Even battle-worn, he looked incredibly handsome.

  I owed Zane everything. He’d gone far out of his way to help me and save me. He was a good man, even if everything Jason told me was true.

  “Tell me about your sister.” I didn’t want to tell him about seeing the two of them, and it driving me to Jason. I had made a terrible mistake, and I thought hearing more about her would make that residual anger fade away.

  “Toughest woman I know.” Zane leaned back in his chair, the light above the table bathing his chest, highlighting all his tattoos.

  He smiled. “The things she’s done. Goddamn. I mean, you think I’m badass?”

  Yes. Yes I do.

  “This girl makes me look like a preacher’s daughter. After you didn’t show yesterday, I told her, and Raven was the one who decided we should move, and she’s the one that convinced the club. She’s got a few connections that made finding you a little easier.” He gave me the hint of a smile, like he was proud of her.

  I leaned back and tried to think of who she might be connected to. I would have guessed that if one of my friends at the club was friends with a tough-as-nails biker chick, we’d all know about it. It wouldn’t have surprised me if Darius knew her. He was a fan of girls that could handle themselves.

  “Who does she know?”

  “A cop. Leave it at that.”

  I gave him a confused look, but I did leave it at that. She knew someone who worked with Jason, which struck me as odd. He knew I’d have more questions, but I knew when to listen to Zane.

  He took another sip of coffee and nodded toward me. “We’re heading to the club tonight. You owe us, you know.”

  My confused look grew into something worse. “What? What do you mean, us?”

  “The club.” Zane’s voice got quieter and colder. “The Rising Sons gave the okay to go in and get you. We’re not renegades, Jenny. We have rules that we play by, and the rules say we need approval for high risk operations.”

  It was strange hearing Zane talk about the motorcycle club like it was a military organization, but it almost made sense. They were all tough, did what they thought was right, and weren’t afraid of danger. Blood rushed to my cheeks, and I felt shy for the first time in a long while. I turned away from Zane with an awkward smile on my face.

  “ ‘Sup, babe?”

  “I don't know. I guess... I guess I’m just embarrassed. You wasted time and energy on me.” I felt a little foolish. I remembered all those bikers partying at the strip club, but it was hard to picture them sitting around a table deciding what to do with me. It was just one more instance of Zane sticking his neck out for me, despite our business deal.

  “It wasn't a waste. Let’s get that straight right now.” It was his you'd better agree voice.

  “All right, all right, not wasted, but none of this was part of our deal.” I couldn't force the lump from my throat this time. My eyes welled. Since we’d made the deal, I had done nothing but break it. Even if I hadn’t misread Raven at Zane’s house, I shouldn't have shown up at his house uninvited. I shouldn’t have run to Jason in my stupid state, and I should not have fallen for Zane. I was probably lying when I first made the deal. I just hadn’t known it at the time.

  Zane sat up, leaning his hard body toward me. “Jenny, who are we shitting? There ever was any deal. Not a real one, anyway.” A confident smile crept onto his face. “I don't know about you, but I know there’s something good here. You are smokin’ hot, smart, and I'm into you. I don't care if you strip. I don’t care what happened Thursday night. Here’s the rundown: my life is rough. I don't know what tomorrow is gonna bring, but I know it will be dangerous. I ain’t gonna ask you to stop dancing, and you're not gonna ask me to stop what I do. Understood?”

  I read his eyes. I heard his words, but it wasn't falling into place. “No, it’s not understood. What are you saying?”

  Zane stood up, and I thought the towel would drop, but he caught it at the last second as it fell away from his midsection. “You’ll understand tonight.”

  He left the room, throwing the towel over his shoulder as he walked away. His tight ass was the last bit of him I saw.

  As nice as the Mustang was, it felt great to drive Harvey again. The black hood made him look meaner, and maybe even deflected the eye away from all his imperfections. The lack of horsepower compared to the classic was painfully obvious to me, and it took a few miles to get used to the subdued power that my car had.

  I headed to Alana’s, avoiding any road that could take
me near Jason’s. I didn’t want to think about him, and I didn’t want to think about what Zane and Raven had done. It was over, and it was best to forget about it—at least, that was what Zane told me before sending me on my way.

  Alana was waiting. She didn't know what had happened, but she knew I was upset. Maybe she could put two and two together, but her math would never equal out to what had actually happened. I didn’t know what to tell her, because I didn’t know the whole story. I would get some of it at the meeting that night, and some of it I would never get.

  Confusion reigned as I drove to my best friend’s house. When I got there, she was waiting by the door, ready to hear my story.

  Once the tea was poured, I made it quick. “I ended up at Jason’s, and some bad stuff happened, and he saved me.”

  She shook her head, a knowing smile on her face. I thought I caught her rolling her eyes, but she turned away. Alana was fiercely independent and hated relying on men for anything at all. If she thought I was being childish or a damsel in distress, she held her tongue.

  “As long as you’re okay.” I knew it was more of a question, so I tried to convince her.

  “I am okay. It’s been a rough couple of days. Who are we kidding—it’s been a rough couple of months.” Maybe I hadn’t realized just how tired everything with Jason had actually made me.

  “I just know that I couldn’t have done it without you, Alana. You and Ellen and Za—” I almost said his real name. The danger surrounding my rescue stopped me. Like he had told me, the less you know, the better. “And Tanner.”

  Alana watched me close, but looked appeased. “Is this over? I mean, everything with Jason?”

  The smell of burning almost returned to my nose. I wondered if that sense memory would ever leave. “Yes. It’s over.”

  “You seem awfully confident, Jenny.”

  “For once, I am confident. Everything’s taken care of.”

  It wasn’t, though. There was one last loose end. The meeting that night with the club was on my mind. I didn’t understand what Zane wanted, or what the club expected from me. It made my heart beat fast, but the fear was replaced with excitement.

  Zane gave me the address. The bar was on the outskirts of town to the West. I’d never even driven past it before, but I had to shake my head when it came into view. It was just so cliché. The parking lot was filled with big Harleys. I heard music blasting out of the bar. It actually wasn’t much different than The Cherry Stem.

  I pulled my car in, parking far away from the line of motorcycles. Somehow, the car felt shameful next to all the bikers’ rides. I looked down the row until I found Zane’s. It was all black with “Bad Habit” air brushed on the back fender. Didn’t that just sum him up? To him, the bike may have been a bad habit, but to me, Zane was my bad habit, the kind you’d never want to quit.

  I headed toward the club with apprehension. He hadn’t told me any more about what was going to happen, and it was painfully obvious that the bikers had no problem going after the police, if they had to.

  I knew I owed them, but what did I owe them or how much? I couldn’t pay them, unless it was a monthly installment. How much would they demand, anyway? The thought crossed my mind—only for a moment—that I might owe them sex. The thought disgusted me, even though it had gotten me into the mess with the bikers in the first place. I sighed and walked through the gravel toward my destiny.

  As I got closer, I realized that the music was coming from a live band, and when I opened the door, the place was a total party. Lights were blasting in every direction, people were dancing, and it was clear that the booze was flowing.

  I saw older men with graying ponytails, younger guys with long, scruffy beards, and everyone in between. Every man in the joint was wearing the black leather cut that proudly stated “The Rising Sons Motorcycle Club” along the back. The women all seemed like big-chested blondes. I stuck out like a sore thumb.

  The door closed behind me, and I had no choice but to go forward. I tried to find Tanner, but there were people all around in the room. I craned my neck, but most of the bikers were beefy and large, making it hard to see into the crowd more than a few feet.

  There was a long wooden bar across the room, and I did my best to navigate through the crowd. I almost made it all the way there before someone grabbed my arm and pulled me to the left. I couldn’t tell who it was, just another biker in a Rising Sons cut.

  I followed, barely able to keep up with him. We headed past the bar through a swinging door that led to the kitchen area. Once the sound died away, I pulled him to a stop.

  “Where’s Tanner? Who are you, and where are we going?”

  The biker yanked at me, and I thought he’d pull my arm from the socket. “Shut up.”

  He didn’t even turn around. I could feel my heart trying to keep up with my brain. I was worrying at a mile a minute, failing to control the panic beginning to grip me. Just when I thought my mind would give up control, the biker pulled me around a corner, and I saw one familiar face in a group.

  Six bikers, including the one that had grabbed me, leaned against stainless steel kitchen equipment. Zane stood in the middle of the group and gave me the slightest of nods. I recognized the one next to him. It was the president. The patch on his leather vest made the position very clear. I remembered him as the most outspoken biker at the strip club the week before.

  I stood before them, my eyes open wide, waiting for them to speak. They all seemed to be eying me, and not in the way that the men did at the club. They were looking at me, not at some made up, imaginary sex goddess. It felt intimidating to be seen as Jenny for once.

  Zane was the first one to speak. “All right, Bear. We don’t need to try and stare the poor girl down.”

  “I think maybe we do, Tanner.” The older man with “PRESIDENT” on his cut didn’t take his eyes off me. “We risked some serious heat. Officer down is not something I like hearing.”

  The words hit me hard. Officer down. Maybe it was because Bear said it like it was a real inconvenience, not what it really was. It was so, so much more than that.

  “We agreed that Raven and I had the club’s approval to do whatever we thought was necessary. That gave us the right to make the decision we did. This wasn’t on her. Jenny didn’t tell us what to do. She doesn’t know the details. I sent her home, so cut the girl some fuckin’ slack, Bear.”

  The older man smirked at Zane. “Well, shit, Tanner. We sure know how you feel.” A few of the other bikers laughed. Zane’s look was diamond hard, but Bear ignored it. “Let’s give her a chance to defend herself.”

  I stood there, my mouth dropped open. I had no idea what to say. “Defend myself against what? Being saved?”

  The old man grinned wider. “No, darlin’. Here’s how we play the game. People come to us for help when no one else will help them. I guess we’re like the fuckin’ A-Team.” I gave him a look of confusion. “Too young? Never mind. You needed help. Tanner here made your case, and we accepted. Now, just like at the end of an episode of the A-Team, we want what’s ours. We want our payment.”

  “I didn’t agree to any payment.”

  He nodded. “Oh, but you did, sweetheart. When you went to Tanner for help, you went to all of us. When you got yourself kidnapped by that wretched little shit of a cop, Tanner and his fuckin’ sister saved you. The unconscious can’t ask for help; neither can the trapped. They want it, but they can’t ask for it. Them’s the rules, and that’s the price.”

  I looked to Tanner, but didn’t get any assurance or help from him. I looked at each man standing there opposite me. I read the tags that some had on their cuts. “SCOUT,” “SERGEANT AT ARMS,” and “TREASURER.” That one stuck out to me. He had a thick beard, but couldn’t have been much older than Zane. A spider web tattoo covered his entire hand.

  I looked right at the treasurer. “What’s the price, then?”