Remember the Night (Nightriders MC Book 0)

by Silver James

  “Nope.”

  “Uh, yes. I have to get ready for work.”

  Jinx had a jar of peanut butter open and was dipping graham crackers in it. “We just picked you up at work.”

  “Yeah, my day job. I have to go to my night job now.”

  “That sucks.”

  I had to agree with Jinx. It did. “Yeah, well I have to pay my bills some way.”

  “You need to talk to Lucky, Gem.”

  I glanced at Bishop. “Why do y’all keep saying that?”

  My front door banged open and Lucas stood there, a big clothing store bag in one hand and two large boxes in the other.

  “Hey, baby.” He handed me the stuff he carried. “Go get changed. We’re going for a ride.”

  “Uh, no. I’m going to work.”

  “Babe.” Luc put his hands on my shoulders, turned me around and shuffled me into my bedroom.

  “Luc. I have to work tonight.”

  “You’re taking the night off.”

  This had to stop. Right now. “I can’t afford to take the night off. I work for a living, Luc. I don’t have time to take off and play.”

  He ignored me. Reaching into the sack, he pulled out a brand new, down jacket and tossed it on the bed. Then he opened the boxes—boots suitable for wearing while on the back of a motorcycle. And leather chaps.

  “C’mon, Gem. You know you want to.”

  He gave me no choice, threatening to strip me if I didn’t change out of my khakis and call center polo into the waffle-weave Harley T-shirt that came with the chaps, jeans, and the rest of the stuff he brought. He waited in the living room. When I came out, he was the only one in my apartment. Bishop and Jinx had wisely disappeared.

  “You’re crazy, Luc. If I don’t show up for work, I’ll get fired.”

  “No you won’t.” He grabbed me around the waist and kissed the top of my head. “Sit, Gem.”

  Since he didn’t give me a choice, I dropped down onto my very sad couch. He picked up my feet, one at a time and shoved the boots on, buckling them up. The darn things fit like they’d been made for me. How did he do that? How did he know what size I wore, what I liked to eat, how I drank my freaking coffee?

  I pushed to my feet. “I can take care of myself.” I was all but spitting and hissing, and my anger was just about as effective as a wet kitten. His lopsided grin just fueled my mad. “You’re having me followed.”

  “Yup.”

  “That’s stalking, Lucas.”

  “Nope. Just protecting what’s mine.”

  My anger stuttered. “Yours? I’m not yours, Luc. I’m not a possession you can just…buy with groceries and car repairs and…” I plucked at the supple leather sheathing my legs. “Clothes.”

  He rocked back on his heels, studied me, but didn’t speak. After a long moment, he smoothed a tousled curl back from my face.

  Frustrated, I tried again. “I don’t belong to you.”

  “But you should.”

  I threw up my hands and suddenly found myself draped over his shoulder as he strode out of the apartment. Somebody shut and locked the door. Bracing my hands against his oh-so-fine butt cheeks, I looked to see who. Dancer. Luc’s second-in-command. He scared me even more than Gunner.

  Control over my life was slipping through my fingers. And I didn’t like it. Not one bit. But Luc. My blood positively sang when he was near and all good sense fled. My body wanted him with a fierceness that made my teen-aged self blush and my grown-up self crave with all-consuming need.

  “Get on the back of my bike, babe. We have places to go.”

  Chapter 4

  Luc

  I SLID THE bottle from the back of my jeans and passed it to the man trussed up like a Christmas goose in the hospital bed. Tag unscrewed the top and swallowed a healthy glug.

  “Better?”

  “Hell yeah.” Tag passed the bottle to Tinker, who swigged before handing it off to Dancer.

  Shoving hands in my front pockets, I attempted to look casual. A group of Nightriders always surrounded Tag though I’d been notably absent. I caught the looks the others exchanged.

  Dancer worked on his poker face before speaking. “Missed you at the card game last night, Lucky.”

  Tag snorted. “No, we didn’t. I actually won for a change.”

  Tinker laughed. “I’m betting he got lucky anyway.”

  I didn’t change my expression but I didn’t meet their curious gazes either.

  “Wait. What the hell were you doing last night?” Tinker sniffed the air. “You were with Gemma. Her scent’s all over you.”

  Yeah, that was the fucking joy of hanging out with a bunch of Wolves. Everyone in the MC knew who and what I did. “So?” So? Really? That was the best defense I could muster?

  “She’s got you whipped, ol’ son.” Dancer smirked, looking all superior and shit.

  “We watched a movie, that’s all.”

  “Yup. Whipped,” they all chorused.

  “What movie?” Tag looked interested.

  I mumbled, “Love Actually.” Didn’t matter. They all heard me. And stared. Hard.

  “You watched a whole chick flick?” Tag chortled as he and other two exchanged looks before pronouncing their verdict simultaneously. “Moonstruck.”

  I didn’t argue. That fact had been confirmed the moment I saw her again. Gemma West was mine. Always had been. My wolf knew Gem was our mate the moment we saw her fifteen years ago and we had a driving need to claim her for our own. But first, I had to explain who—what—I was, what the others were.

  Wolves were born with extra an extra gene, one giving us the ability to shift into wolves. There was even a scientific term for it—lupi versi pellis. Oh, hell yeah, I was moonstruck—our term for slamming straight into the mating urge, which felt a lot like getting hit by a semi truck.

  Tag was still ribbing me so I pasted a knowing grin on my face and pretended to listen. Wolves like sex. A hellava lot and we tend to think with our small heads more often than not. While we like to fuck in general, when we find our mate, we like to fuck in specific. And any man or Wolf stupid enough to get between me and mine would die. That’s just the way it worked. I wouldn’t claim her until she knew the truth but damn if my balls weren’t bluer than the sky and about about to fall off.

  A lot of Wolves never meet their mate. I’d known mine forever. And she was here. Where I could see her. Touch her. Make love to and claim her. First, though, I had confessions to make, secrets to reveal.

  The Nightriders were hard men living hard lives. And with war coming, it would just get worse. Gemma was my Achilles’ heel. My weakness. The Hell Dogs could use her to hurt me and the motherfuckers wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice her. I was not a good man. I’d stolen. Killed. And worse. I would not claim her until she knew the worst of me. I had at least that much honor. I couldn’t think about what I’d do if she tried to walk away.

  Lucky

  I WAS ALWAYS uneasy when Gemma was at the clubhouse. She didn’t fit here, wasn’t like the other women who hung around, especially the sweet butts. She wasn’t really an old lady even though she wore my colors. She didn’t understand the significance of that, and I hadn’t given her a jacket saying “Property of Lucky.” For the most part, she was safe. At least from the Nightriders.

  We were have a roast tonight to celebrate Tag’s release from the hospital and I couldn’t leave her out of it. Hell, she was the reason Tag was alive and headed to rehab in the morning. Besides, I wanted her here, by my side where she belonged. I wanted her to learn about the club, meet the brothers, the old ladies. This was my life. She had to accept it for us to work.

  The front door slammed open and Tag limped in, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. “We got one. Dancer and Gunner are bringin’ the bastard in.”

  Every head in the room swiveled to stare, including Gemma’s. She’d just come in the back door with one of the old ladies and she stopped dead as Gunner and Dance dragged in the bleeding man. Fuck.
Why tonight? I’d wanted to spare her this side of club life. Too late now.

  Gemma looked so damn lost it almost cracked the stony veneer I’d pasted on my face. I couldn’t go to her, couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t explain. Club business first. Bloody business. Once finished, I’d talk to her. Explain. There’d be blood on my hands but hell, my hands had been red my entire life. I lived, my mother died, and my old man never let me forget it. He was a Wolf and my mom was his mate. I finally understood what my sire suffered. Being a Nightrider meant putting the club first, the brothers first. I’d done bad shit in the name of the club. What was the bloodstain of one more life—a guilty one—on my soul?

  I tilted my head toward the room where we held church. Dancer and Gunner dragged the unconscious Hell Dog through the doors. The rest of the brothers followed. I turned, studied Gemma. “Go home, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “No,” she barked.

  I didn’t expect rebellion. “You need to leave, Gemma.”

  “I’m staying.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  I couldn’t help myself. My gaze went there, but I dragged it back to her face. It was my turn to bark, “No.”

  She marched up and poked my chest. “Do you think I’d cut and run? I know what will happen in that room.”

  Not that room. Judgment only there. Downstairs, in the basement. We’d execute the asshole there. Church wouldn’t be defiled by enemy blood. “Go home, Gemma.”

  Waving a negligent hand at the other women, she snarled at me. “Are you sending them home?” She read my answer in my expression. “If they stay, I stay.”

  Fuck. Which is what the brothers would want to do after this night’s work was done. I couldn’t send the women away. I glared at her then shrugged. “Suit yourself. There will be blood on my hands when I come to you.”

  Gemma

  LUC GAVE ME one last look before he disappeared behind thick, wooden doors. That room was sacrosanct according to Leslie. She was Skid’s old lady. They weren’t married but they’d been together almost ten years and had a little girl together.

  “Just brothers, Gemma. The only time a woman is taken in there…” Her voice trailed off and she shivered. “It’s bad shit. Really bad. Don’t ever do anything that would make Lucky take you in there.”

  Les wore a leather vest over a lacy tee. In many ways, it was a feminine version of what the guys wore. It had the Nightrider wolf patch on the back but hers said “Property of” over the top, with Skid’s name underneath. Every time Luc brought me here, he insisted I wear his jacket and he wore his vest.

  I’d been a little offended the first time I saw the jackets and vests the old ladies wore. Then Les explained how things worked. In the MC world, being property was a good thing if you were a woman. She’d quickly set me straight on the hierarchy: brothers first, old ladies, provisionals—though the provisionals might argue they out-ranked the women, acknowledged girlfriends, hang-arounds, and sweet butts.

  Provisionals were guys who weren’t patched in yet. Whatever that meant. I guess they were like trainees. Hang-arounds were guys who wanted to become Nightriders. They did the grunt work hoping to get in good with the club. The sweet butts? I had no words for them. They wanted to be girlfriends and old ladies and they put out to any Nightrider who looked their way in hopes of catching a brother’s attention.

  One night, I’d taken Luc’s jacket off because I was hot. He was in that church room with some of the guys so I was sitting alone. A hang-around sat down beside me and tried to kiss me. When he grabbed my boob, I slapped him. He called me a cunt and the next thing I knew, he was dangling a foot off the floor, the back of his collar clutched in Tinker’s meaty fist. Luc was livid. We had a big fight about it until he explained that I was safe only so long as I wore his jacket. That’s when I’d met Leslie and got The Talk(tm).

  Sex and drinking went hand-in-hand. I’d walked through this room more than once and caught some woman with her head in the lap of a Nightrider. I’d gotten in the habit of listening at the door to the kitchen before walking in. The night I found a Nightrider giving it to a girl bent over the counter, I’d gone right out and bought a case of bleach. No one seemed freaked out by any of it. I wasn’t exactly a virgin but I darn sure wasn’t a voyeur or an exhibitionist.

  Given the Nightriders’ proclivity for sex, I was all weirded out that Luc hadn’t done much more than make out with me. Even when I pushed for it, he backed away. I wondered if he thought I was too tame…or something.

  Some of the girls headed to the kitchen for beer. A couple more played pool while others danced. I walked over and stood in front of the window, staring out at the gravel parking lot. This place was a fortress—an old warehouse reinforced with concrete and steel. What had I gotten myself into? Nothing here was familiar—except Luc. And my feelings for him. Yet none of it felt strange. I should be feeling at loose ends, but I didn’t. I felt only an odd sense of peace, like I’d finally found my way home.

  Chapter 6

  Lucky

  AS THREATENED, I’D returned to Gemma with blood on my hands. And with that blood came the realization that it was time. No more secrets.

  Gemma stared at the leather-bound notebook nested on her flattened palm. “I don’t understand.”

  I resisted the urge to dig my boot toe in the dirt. “It’s Ethan’s.” Ethan West. My best friend growing up and Gemma’s big brother. And the man I almost went to prison for.

  “His journal?” When I nodded, she closed her fingers over the spine. “How did you get it?”

  “Don’t ask.” She tried to hand it back but I kept my hands jammed in my hip pockets. “It’s all there, Gem.”

  Damn but she looked…small, all curled in on herself emotionally and physically.

  “Why are you giving it to me?” She didn’t look up at me when she spoke.

  “Because I want you to have it. That book holds the truth and you deserve to know.” Gemma’s throat worked as she gulped. It was so damn hard not to take her in my arms. I wanted her in my bed. Now. But I had to come clean first. Because this was about far more than fucking her. This was about love, about claiming her as my mate. I took a step back to put more distance between us. I didn’t want to screw this up by rushing her.

  When she spoke, her voice sounded like shifting sand—soft but gritty. “I already know the truth, Luc. I know what he did to Janie, that he accused you and tried to blame you for it. I tried to tell my parents. They called me a liar.” Pain flooded her expression. “And worse. Ethan was golden. He was…theirs. I…wasn’t.”

  “What are you talking about, Gem?”

  “Adopted. I was…adopted.”

  I could no longer stand the separation or the waves of pain radiating from her. I reached for her with both hands and coaxed her to lean against my chest. “I didn’t want to leave you behind. But you were so young, Gemma.”

  “I wasn’t. I’ve never been young.”

  “I realize that now. I’m sorry, and I want to make up for lost time. Will you give me a second chance to make it right? To be the man you need me to be?”

  She searched my face and I hoped she’d find my truth there. “Do you remember the night you left?” she asked.

  “How could I forget?”

  “I cried. For hours. I ran away two weeks later. I looked and looked, but I couldn’t find you anywhere. I figured you didn’t want me.” She lifted a shoulder to hide her hurt. “No one did.”

  Gemma shoved the book in the back waistband of her jeans and stretched on her tiptoes to cup my cheeks. Damn but her hands felt perfect on my skin. Her scent filtered through my ragged defenses.

  “I wanted you, sunshine. I just couldn’t have you. Not then.” And maybe not now. I had more to confess, more secrets to spill. Her reaction would send me flying. Or kill me.

  I eased her back and dropped my hands. If I was touching her, I wouldn’t be able to say what needed to be said.

  “Luc?”

  I, Lu
cas “Lucky” Malone, who feared very little in this life, was terrified. “One more thing, Gemma. About Ethan.”

  She tilted her head, her gaze locked on me. “You killed him.”

  I gulped this time, shocked as shit. “You knew?”

  “I wasn’t positive. I suspected when I heard he’d died. I didn’t come back for the funeral.” Her voice got small and tight. “I wasn’t welcome. And this—” She held up the journal. “You having this is the last piece of the puzzle.”

  “I won’t apologize, Gemma.” My voice sounded harsher than I’d planned.

  “Not asking you to. Ethan was a bastard and deserved worse. He should have been in a cage for the rest of his life. You gave him a quick death.” Her voice had grown in strength and now she sounded pissed.

  I shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable now. “Not exactly quick,” I muttered.

  “Good.” She stepped further away from me and hugged herself. “Is it in the notebook? What he did to me?”

  “Dammit, baby. Don’t go there. You were just a kid. I didn’t know until after I’d killed him. I read the damn book looking for evidence to get the cops off my back. When I discovered what he’d done to you, I wanted to kill him all over again and again. Only slower. I wanted to hurt him, make him scream for what he’d done.”

  Her chin jutted and she straightened her spine. “That’s not me. Not anymore. I’m not that little girl.”

  “I know.” I reached out and brushed two fingertips along her cheek. “You’re a woman. A beautiful woman.” My woman, but I couldn’t say that out loud. “I want you, Gem. I can’t walk I’m so hard from wanting you.” I grabbed her hand, tugged her close enough I could place her palm against my hard-on.

  Her cheeks turned rosy. “So are you. Beautiful. And hard.”

  Her words startled a laugh out of me. That was Gemma’s true talent. She could always make me laugh.”I know this is too fast, but shit’s happening. I don’t want you to be here alone. Will you move into my place?”