Renny (The Henchmen MC #6)

by Jessica Gadziala

  Because the woman wanted me for fuck's sake.

  She was just too scared to feel it.

  I mean, granted, there would be some work involved, but for the most part, it was proving we were in a relationship. And, well, I planned on putting on a convincing show.

  You know, for appearances sake.

  My eyes moved over to Lo, finding her already watching me, likely taking in my excitement and amusement and maybe even the determination as well.

  Why was I so fucking set on Mina? Yeah, that'd be a good question. And I didn't exactly have an answer that seemed satisfactory to me. Maybe it was because she was like me- she could analyze herself and her actions and the motivations behind them until she was blue in the face and yet she still couldn't fix herself. Just like I couldn't fix myself either. Or maybe it was because I wanted to see the real her, the one she kept hidden under the outward appearance of cool, calm, collected, and capable. Underneath the uptightness.

  I wanted to peel away the layers and find what was inside.

  Judging by the look Lo was giving me, she knew exactly what I had planned. And, maybe because Lo was a hopeless romantic or maybe because she knew her girl needed some messiness in her life, seemed to be fully behind the plan.

  "So they're allies," Cyrus nodded.

  "We don't really have any enemies except the current threat. So don't be starting any shit on your personal time with any of the local groups from 3rd Street to Shooter to the Grassis and Lyon. Last fucking thing we need is another enemy because some fucking probies couldn't keep their mouths shut or their hands to themselves."

  "I don't have any enemies, man," Cyrus said, giving him a fun-loving smile. "No one would want to mess up a face as nice as mine."

  "Lo, Renny," Reign said, standing, jerking his head toward the door to the garage.

  Lo slapped a hand on Cash's thigh then got off his lap to follow. When I stepped into the garage, I heard Lo talking.

  "I agree," she said, nodding.

  "Just to cover bases."

  "Exactly."

  "They see things differently," Reign added.

  "And it's the only way to explain her presence here," Lo added. "Now you," she said, as the door closed behind me.

  "Me?" I asked, rocking back on my heels. "What about me?"

  "You're not going to be a dick to her," she told me, giving me a hard look. "I know you want her and I know this is a golden opportunity for you to make a move, but you need to keep in mind that she isn't signing up for this. This is her job. She has to do this. Don't make her uncomfortable. Don't back her into a corner. Don't make her..."

  "Lo," I cut her off, shaking my head. "I know you want to protect your girl, but don't insult me. I have no intentions of trying to force her into fucking anything."

  "Okay," Lo nodded. "I know you're a good guy, Renny. But I also know you have this drive to get under someone's skin. I just want to make sure that you don't fucking flay her, okay?"

  "Got it," I agreed.

  "I'm most interested in Reeve right now," Reign said. "Cyrus is pretty up-front. We've spent some time with Laz now so we have a little bit of a feel for him. Reeve is tight-lipped so I want some focus on him. But, they're all priority. You can fuck around with Mina until your heart is content, but this needs to be your main focus."

  "Got it," I agreed, nodding. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some sprucing up to do on my honeymoon suite," I grinned, turning and going back into the clubhouse then down the hall to my room.

  It wasn't exactly an impressive space. None of the rooms were. But it was home. I had four dark green walls and a private bath with a shower, tub, and double vanity. My bed was a queen because I liked having some room on the sides and opted out of the king like most of the other guys. The sheets were tossed and everything needed a fresh wash if she was going to be staying so I stripped the bed.

  Then I did what any fully-patched MC member would do.

  I called the probates in and made them do the laundry, scrub the bathroom, sweep the floors, and wipe all the surfaces.

  I forgot how nice it was to have probates around. Granted, it wasn't that long ago that I had forgotten what it was like to be the lowest man on the totem pole. But I had done it back when there were half a dozen fucking assholes still around from Reign's father's days as the president who came up with the shittiest, most demeaning tasks possible to try to break us. These new guys, they had it easy. And the grunt work would remind them that they had people to answer to, that they weren't individuals completely in charge of their own lives anymore. They were part of a brotherhood and there was a hierarchy and they had to respect that. No better way to learn that than having to wash your superior's fucking underwear.

  There was a soft knock on my door a couple minutes later. "Come on in, blondie," I called knowing there was only one person in the whole compound who didn't bang on the door like a parent who knew their teenage daughter had a boy in there without permission. Or, just as often, entered without knocking at all.

  "Hey Renny," Penny said, giving me a smile as she looked into the bathroom to see Cyrus standing inside my shower stall with a squirt bottle of bleach and a scrub brush. "You put them to work already?" she asked, shaking her head. "You know, I could have helped you straighten the place up..."

  "It's their job," I shrugged, sitting on the foot of my bed.

  "They're not getting paid for it," she countered. "And they're sort of being treated like dogs who can't stop chewing the furniture by being locked up when the owners aren't home."

  "They knew what they were signing up for, Pen. Besides, me and Duke and Maze went through a lot worse than they will. It's all good. What brings you down to my neck of the woods?"

  She moved over toward the bathroom, closing the door. "I like Mina," she started oddly.

  "I like Mina too," I agreed, smiling, patting the bed so she sat down and we could talk more quietly.

  "So, I guess what I am saying is- don't scare her off."

  "Trying not to. Seeing as that works against my end game here, honey."

  "What is the end game here?" she asked. "Just to sleep with her? Or just to see what makes her tick and then toss her in the trash all pulled apart? Do you want something serious out of it?"

  Those were good questions. Especially seeing as I hadn't exactly been Mr. Relationship in the past. What could I say? I was younger than most of the guys in the club and I liked to go out and sow my oats still. I wasn't a dick and I didn't make promises, but I enjoyed the company of many women on a temporary basis.

  But most women simply didn't pique my interest. I found them easy to read, to understand, to put my finger on. And, quite frankly, I got too bored too fast to consider anything more than a short fling.

  Mina wasn't boring. She was far from actually. And the tiny little snippets I had dug out of her only made me want to uncover more. But there would come a day when there would be nothing left to find. What then? Would I be bored and want to move on? Or would I be in so deep by then that there was no going back?

  I wasn't the kind of man who got scared by that idea. Relationships could and should be a healthy part of most peoples' experiences. They were important. You found out some things about yourself within relationships. So the idea of giving up whoring around and enjoying coming home to the same woman? Yeah, it was appealing in a lot of ways. But it had to be the right woman.

  "Can't tell you that I have a ring on deposit and plans to marry her, Penny. But I don't have plans to fuck her over either."

  "Okay. That's the best you can offer right now," she said, giving me a smile. "Oh, clear out a drawer for her and about two-thirds your closet," she told me as she walked to the door. "And a drawer or three or four in the bathroom. Trust me," she added as she walked out.

  So then I did just that.

  And I went to bed.

  And then I waited for my old lady to arrive.

  Smiling the whole fucking time.

  EIGHT

 
Mina

  "I'm not dressing like a whore, Ash," I scoffed as she sat on her bunk one set over from mine and nixed all the clothes I took out of my trunk.

  "I didn't say a whore. I'm just saying that you can't be hanging out at the compound dressed like you're about to go dig a well or do covert ops."

  "Lo hangs out there in cargo pants and tank tops all the time," I countered.

  "Yeah, but Lo is Lo," she shrugged it off. "You're you. You can't pull it off."

  "Gee, thanks," I said, rolling my eyes. "I have only been dressing this way almost every day of my life for years. Nice to find out now that it doesn't suit me," I dropped down on my bunk atop a giant pile of my clothes and exhaled hard. "That's like all the clothes I have, Ash. Since you already said I can't wear the clothes I wear on business trips."

  "No one is going to buy a Henchmen shacked up with a woman in a fucking pantsuit, Mina," she laughed, shaking her head. "Don't you have any jeans and girly tees or girly tanks?"

  I had one pair of jeans. There was still a tag on the waistband from the store.

  As if sensing my response, she hopped up. "Alright, well, we're pretty close in size. You have a slightly bigger ass than me, but I have some leggings that are forgiving."

  "Leggings aren't pants," I objected immediately.

  "They are if the material is thick and you can't see through them when you bend over," she shot back. "Here- black, gray, and galaxy-print. Now all you need is some basic tanks and tees. And you have a shitload of them. What about sweaters and shrugs or... right," she smiled when I gave her a blank look.

  What the hell was a shrug?

  I never gave much thought to my clothes. Not that I was clueless. I was just out of the loop. I grew up with a mother who kept me dressed very femininely and very modestly. Then I came across Lo who threw me in utility pants and tanks and combat boots and I just rarely ever looked back. There was no need. Most of the people I associated with, associated me with Hailstorm. There was no reason to dress any other way.

  "Alright, here, I have a heather gray sweater and a wine-colored shrug and... oh, flats. You can't wear combat boots all the time."

  Ashley was a favorite of mine if I were being honest. A lot of the women around Hailstorm were so incredibly over-trained and skilled that it was scary and intimidating and I felt lost when they started talking about operations and bomb-building and how to put together a gun faster. Ashley was ex-military and nurse who managed to be more... average than most of the others.

  I wasn't sure there was another woman around who would give me fashion advice. "Actually, keep this one. Sandy gave it to me," she said, tossing the wine-colored 'shrug' at me.

  Sandy was her most recent girlfriend. "That went south already?" I asked, realizing I had done the 'sympathy voice' when she raised a brow at me.

  "Apparently it was a deal-breaker that I don't like cats," she said, rolling her eyes.

  "Well, I'm with you on that. I hate being covered in hair."

  "Right?" she agreed, dropping down on her bunk. "So, I am going to slip into nurse-mode here for a quick second. Are you on the Pill?"

  "What? Ah, no," I said, shaking my head, thrown off a little by the abrupt change in conversation.

  "Shots? IUD?" she went on.

  I shook my head. "No, I ah, had a implant put in last year," I said, rolling up my sleeve to show her the matchstick-size piece of plastic just under the surface of my skin.

  "Why isn't that in your file?" she demanded and I could tell she was genuinely unhappy with me for not providing that information. It was her, among others, job to keep track of our medical records. "I did your last pap," she went on.

  "I had it done in Canada last winter. I was due for a checkup and the doctor recommended it to me since I can't do the Pill."

  "You should have told me. It alters things in small ways when you're on hormones."

  "Well, you can put in my file that for the next five years, I have hormones in me."

  "Alrighty, well, I don't have any seeing as I don't get involved with cocks of the real variety," she said, giving me a small smile. "But I know the reputations of those Henchmen. If you plan to hook up, or," she cut me off as I started to object, "even if you don't plan to hook up, please buy a box of condoms and keep them in your bag. Better to be prepared."

  "Okay, Mom," I smiled. I didn't tell her that I always had condoms because, implant aside, I had made it into my mid-late twenties without ever having had sex without a condom. I'd like to say it was just genuinely being overly careful, and there was that, but I was sure that a bigger part of it had to do with that level of intimacy and the fact that I was never fully comfortable with it.

  "Okay, so I think you're all set," she said suddenly, jumping up and shoving a bunch of things into my bag so fast that I couldn't even make out what the items were and before I could complete a full breath, she was zipping up the bag and picking it up. "Let's get you to your redheaded biker man."

  I felt my stomach do a flip that I wasn't entirely sure was dread. In fact, it felt a lot like excitement to be perfectly honest. But as I tossed my bag in the back of the car and drove down the hill toward town, I tried like hell to convince myself otherwise.

  If I was going to survive this job, I needed my wits about me and my guards up. Even if I would be wearing galaxy-printed leggings and a wine-colored shrug. Even if I didn't fully feel like myself because I was playing a part. I still needed to be careful.

  Because a part of me recognized that Renny was dangerous to me. Not because he would hurt me, but because he had that power. No one had that power. Not since I was a kid.

  I walked into the compound a complete bundle of nerves, every inch of skin seeming to spark off, my belly in tight knots. The common room had two new faces I didn't recognize, obviously brothers if the eyes and noses were anything to go by. The one without the beard also had a nice jaw to show off as well.

  "Well now, who do we have here?" the bearded one asked, slowly getting out of his seat with a charming smile.

  "Sit," Lazarus demanded casually, looking over at me. "She's taken."

  As if on cue, I felt strong arms wrap themselves around my belly from behind and a warm chest curving around my back, a face ducking into my neck. "She's taken alright," Renny's voice said close to my ear, his breath warm, sending a shiver across my skin as my sex did an unexpected tightening. "Welcome home, baby cakes," he said and I had to bite my lower lip to keep from telling him to not call me that. I was supposed to be a woman in love who wanted pet names, no matter how ridiculous they were. "Aw, you're all tense from work," he said, giving my belly a squeeze. "Well, why don't we go to our room and I can... relax you?" he suggested and the bearded guy whistled, Laz chuckled, and the other one did his best to look like he hadn't overheard though he absolutely had.

  With that, his arms slid from my stomach and around my lower back as he pulled me down the hall and toward his door.

  "Home sweet home, honey," Renny said behind me as he shut the door.

  It was a nice room. Private. After so many years at Hailstorm, it was easy to forget what a normal bedroom was like. He had a giant (to me, used to a twin bunk) queen bed covered in a green and brown comforter with the white sheets fresh and tucked down over the top. The walls were a deep green with various framed sketches in graphite or even full color. There was a deep brown dresser inside the door with a TV on top and a door beside that to the bath.

  Really, were it not for the towering form of Renny, it was practically a vacation.

  "Don't call me honey," I reminded him as he fought to pull my bag from my hand.

  He ignored that as he tapped the dresser behind me. "I cleared out a drawer here, half the closet, and two drawers in the bathroom."

  "Why?" I asked, turning to look at him, brows drawn together.

  "Because you're supposed to be my woman and that means you need to look like you live here. They bought that you were away on a work trip, but you need to settle in."
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br />   "Alright," I agreed, but moved to the closet and put my bag at the bottom. I wasn't ready to settle in. A part of me was sure I might run at any minute. "So, I know Laz..."

  "The bearded one is Cyrus. He plays guitar at a coffee shop. Charming. Laid-back. Reeve is his older brother. He's an electrician. More tight-lipped."

  "And there here because..."

  "Their pops was a member before he was killed."

  "So, this is a legacy thing?" I asked, brows drawing together.

  "Cyrus made the same argument," he nodded.

  An awkward silence fell then as we both just stood there- me by the closet, him near the door. "Let me just clear this up right now, Renny. I'm here to work."

  "You go ahead and do that, Mina. And I will work on breaking down those walls of yours."

  "Renny," I sighed, shaking my head. "Give up."

  "Can't do that, sweetheart. But what I can do is say I sleep on the left side of the bed and I have to have the TV on or every fucking thing wakes me up."

  "I sleep with headphones on at Hailstorm," I commiserated.

  "I will remember to put the seat down but I leave my shoes every fucking where."

  "Why are you..."

  "I don't snore, but I sometimes have entire conversations in my sleep. It's weird as fuck. Oh, and blanket stealing will not be tolerated."

  Damn him. I felt my lips curve up at the end of his little speech. "Good to know," I said, realizing for the first time that I would have to share a bed with him. I thought he would be considerate enough to bring in a cot or something. But of course not. Why would he do that when all he had wanted for months was to get me into a bed?

  "Your turn," he prompted.

  "My turn?"

  "Tell me your little life secrets. You know, so I know what to expect. Do you leave the toothpaste in the sink? 'Cause that's fucking disgusting."