Don't Say It: Ronacks Motorcycle Club

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Don't Say It: Ronacks Motorcycle Club Page 9

by Debra Kayn


  She could never tell him the truth that he was the reason she moved into the duplex. If he never found out, it wouldn't matter. He'd already promised to keep her safe.

  Guilt called her all kinds of names. She had no right to even think that Swiss was here because of her.

  He had others in his life. Not only the club, but other women played a part as friends and probably sex partners. Maybe, he even had babies by those women.

  She stopped in front of the television stand and picked up the only picture Swiss had in the room. He'd said it was his daughter.

  God, he had a daughter.

  She knew nothing about him, besides he was a nice guy toward her. He could be a horrible husband—ex-husband, and a deadbeat dad. Maybe he worked for the motorcycle club because he was a felon or got fired from every other job he tried to do. For all she knew, he could be totally different around others, and she hadn't seen his real side yet.

  In the picture, Swiss's daughter was barely bigger than the baby she'd held today. His daughter held on to Swiss's pant leg wanting to be picked up, and the smile on Swiss's face made her want to cry. Every emotion ever known was reflected in his eyes. At first, she concentrated too much on his daughter and tried to imagine what she'd look like as an adult.

  Then, she noticed the man in the picture was a younger version of Swiss. Hair buzzed, clean shaven, and wearing fatigues. He had the world at his feet, literally.

  Had divorce split up his family or his commitment to the Army pushed his wife away? She'd lied when she shared she had grown up an Army brat. It was to make him want to indulge having her around. His tattoo gave him away, and she'd always heard men and women enlisted in the service never leave someone behind. Lying was the only way she could think to make him keep her around.

  He never deserved her barging into his life.

  "Gia?" said Swiss, walking into the duplex.

  She put the picture frame back where she'd found it, wiped her cheeks off with her hands, and turned to face him. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

  "I think we talked about you being sorry." His gaze softened. "I still can't see where you asked for any of this to happen."

  "God, of course not." She sniffed.

  "You're tired."

  "I'm okay." She shook her head, disgusted at always pretending everything was okay when everything was not okay. "No, I'm not. I've been tired since the day I walked into work and found...nevermind."

  He approached her and without asking, took her hand, and led her to the couch. She followed him down onto the cushion and found herself pulled over until her head landed on his thigh.

  "Put your feet up," Swiss said, smoothing the hair off her face. "Close your eyes."

  Her eyes burned, and she followed his order without question. She couldn't even find enough strength to feel self-conscious about laying her head on his lap or guilty because she enjoyed the way his rough, broad hands comforted her.

  "Only for a few minutes," she mumbled

  His strokes along her hair softened. "Rest, sweet. I won't let anything happen to you."

  She let the full weight of her head settle on his thigh and pulled her knees higher on the couch. "I forgot to take off my shoes," she mumbled.

  "Don't matter."

  She sighed, and even the slight noise throbbed in her head. The thought of taking Tylenol when Swiss brought her back to the duplex after the meeting forgotten as more important matters filled her head.

  The thought of Swiss having a daughter and at one time, he probably soothed her tears and comforted her until she slept warmed her. He'd be a good dad, which went against his answer he'd given her. She couldn't imagine the pain he lived with not having a close relationship with his own flesh and blood.

  "Sh...," he said under his breath.

  She smiled or at least inside she had. He couldn't get up with her on his lap. She'd relax for a few more minutes until the pressure in her head eased. Then she'd do something about trying to figure out her next step and how to stay safe.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Swiss checked his phone. Gia had been in the bathroom for an hour and a half. Granted, he understood women took a long time to get ready but she'd let him know exactly what she'd thought of his plan to take her to Pine Bar and Grill. After she had got up from her eight-hour nap, he'd spent a half hour trying to convince her she'd be fine surrounded by Ronacks members and she needed to eat a good meal.

  Raelyn could provide the food. Ronacks had security down. Gia needed to get the hell out of the duplex for a few hours to relax.

  And, he hoped Sparrows made a move in public, and he could take the assholes out.

  He shoved his phone back in his pocket. If nothing else, while Gia ate, he could keep watch for the woman that'd shown up at the bar wanting to find her sister. His gut feeling leaned toward her being the one that would come after Gia. The street gangs in the inner cities often used women for their dirty work. He had no trouble dealing with a female. It'd be that much easier to have the woman lead him to the men threatening Gia.

  The bathroom door opened, and Gia walked out with her hair dry and wearing a black dress that hugged her curves and gave him a flash of cleavage. He whistled softly. Her beauty always got his attention, but her outfit put everything out there for him to enjoy.

  "I only have a dress clean. It was either wear this one or put on dirty clothes." She put a pair of black high heels on the floor and stepped into them. "Or, if you think it's too dressy. I could stay here and do laundry while you go eat."

  "Not leaving your side and I'm hungry." He walked over to the door with his dick throbbing. "You're actually safer with a crowd around you."

  "I know." She picked up her purse and swayed her hips, strutting like a God damn supermodel in heels. "The nap seemed to only make me more irritable, but I appreciate you taking care of me. If nothing else, I needed to shut off my brain."

  He inhaled the sweet, clean scent of her. "You look beautiful."

  She scoffed and looked at him again, and when she met his eyes, she softened. "It's just a dress, Swiss."

  "Hell of a dress, sweet," he whispered, wanting to kiss her.

  Her eyes rounded, and she put her hand on his arm. "I can't go."

  "You can."

  "No, I can't. I won't be able to get on the back of your motorcycle wearing this," she said.

  "Lucky for you, I have a car, too." He wrapped his arm around her and put his hand on her hip. The warmth of her body through the thin material had him tugging her closer.

  She gulped at his touch. "You do?"

  "It's Montana. I need some way to get around in the winter when the snow plow can't keep up with the snow." Amusement rumbled in his chest. The time it took her to get ready to leave was worth the wait. "I phoned Mel and had him bring my ride around while you slept. I usually keep it in one of the storage units across town in the summer."

  He kept his left arm around her back, his hand on her hip, and scanned the area outside as he walked her out of the duplex and to the curb. Even with the armed escorts waiting at each end of the block, he wouldn't forget that his sole purpose was to protect Gia.

  "Um, Swiss, that's not a part-time vehicle or one that fits in with the amount of snow I hear Montana gets in the winter." Gia stopped beside him and gawked at his car. "You own a Mercedes."

  "If I'm forced to enclose myself, I'm going to be comfortable. Besides, the plows are good about keeping the streets free of snow in town." He hit the button on his keychain, unlocked the door, and opened the passenger side for her. Gia slipped inside, and he hustled around the back of the car and got in the driver's seat.

  "Your theory is lame?" she asked, grinning. "You're picky about your motorcycle and car, but not where you live."

  "Don't care where I put my head," he said.

  "Oh. My. God," she whispered. "I can't believe you said that."

  Her surprise over his answer made him chuckle. "You've got a dirty mind, sweet."

  "You said it,
not me." She laughed softly.

  He exhaled in pleasure, pleased she was loosening up after her fright last night. They could enjoy dinner together and be one step closer to ending the bad business targeted at her back.

  At the first stop sign, Gia said, "What happens if they show up at the bar?"

  "Ronacks will contain the situation until we know they can't harm anyone, and you're safe."

  "What's that mean?"

  "It means what it means." He pulled out on Main Street. "Your job isn't to worry about what we'll do, but to keep your eyes open. If you see anyone you recognize or feel is a threat to you, tell me. I'll be right beside you every step."

  He turned on his blinker, looked in his rear view mirror to see Rod riding behind him, and turned to park behind the bar at the closest spot next to the entrance where he wouldn't have to backup if he needed to get out in a hurry.

  Choke and LeWorth walked out the back door of Pine Bar and Grill and headed to the Mercedes. He reached over and laid his hand on Gia's wrist.

  "Hang on a second," he said, giving her a squeeze of reassurance. "Your door is going to come open in a few seconds, and LeWorth and Choke will stand with you until I walk around the car. There's nothing to fear, we're extra cautious in public."

  LeWorth opened the passenger side door and nodded at Gia. "We're normally not fancy or hold ourselves to proper manners, but once in a while I like to brush up on the skills my grandma B. instilled in me. So, if you'd walk with me, you'd be doing my grandma proud."

  Gia glanced at Swiss, unsure whether to trust LeWorth's smooth words.

  "Go ahead. We're going to have you surrounded. It's only a precaution." He opened his car door and joined her outside the Mercedes on the other side.

  He stepped around her, keeping her on his left side, and his non-dominate hand on her back. "Everything clear inside?" he asked LeWorth.

  "Only the regulars." LeWorth walked on the other side of Gia. "All doors are covered, and there are four brothers inside, not counting Rod and us."

  "Tell everyone on the outside to drop back." Swiss reached out and pushed open the back door. "Fuck, I'm starving."

  Gia looked up at him, keeping pace in her high heels and studied him a bit longer than simple curiosity.

  He rubbed his hand along her lower back. "What?"

  "You've protected others before," she said, stating the obvious. "You're comfortable with the role of the other members making everything secure, and you have a routine."

  He walked her the rest of the way into the bar, took a table at the back of the room, and sat so he could view the entire area. When she sat down, still studying him, he appeased her curiosity.

  "Ronacks is a territorial motorcycle club, which means we take care of a specific area and make sure what happens in our territory is what we want to happen," he said.

  "Like a street gang," said Gia, leaning further back in her chair.

  Swiss caught Raelyn's gaze behind the bar and nodded for her to bring the food, and then directed his attention back to answering Gia. "In some ways, except we're not conducting illegal business. We all work to protect what is in our territory."

  "What do you do?"

  "A little of everything." He thumped his thumb against the table to keep from reaching across and touching her. "Right now, I'm working security at Watson's Repo and Towing, because they've run into a bit of trouble."

  "Dangerous trouble?"

  "No." He shrugged. "Nothing I can't handle."

  Her lips pursed, and she watched his hand until he stopped all movement and forced her to face him. "Have you dealt with anything like I've experienced?" she asked.

  More times than he wanted, he'd dealt with people where the end result ended up with someone dead. The reasons no longer mattered, it was what was better for the town, the people in the territory, and the club. He'd done the job without any leftover guilt. The way the Army trained him.

  He nodded. "I've dealt and stopped trouble from happening that was at the level you're experiencing."

  "Can you tell me what happened?" She leaned forward.

  He cleared his throat. "The only thing you need to know is that the job ended the way we wanted it to, and those that needed protected remained safe. I will stop the men coming after you, Gia. It might not be tonight or even next week, but I don't walk away from a job until it's finished. Ronacks doesn't let shit like that happen in Haugan."

  "That's why the woman at the shelter sent me to you," she whispered.

  "Excuse me?" he said.

  She never once mentioned a shelter or a woman sending her to him. She claimed to have ran away from Seattle and come to Montana to hide on her own.

  Gia glanced around, leaned forward, and softly said, "I ran to a woman's shelter the night I received the text from the killers. The woman there helped me find a place where I'd be safe. There were two choices of places I could go. A rural farmhouse in Wyoming away from everyone or come to Haugan and stay by you at the duplex. I picked you because the woman mentioned you were a biker and in my head that meant you were tough enough to scare people away."

  "Impossible." He looked over to see if Rod heard the conversation, but of course, the music and noise in the bar gave them privacy. "We don't work outside the club or with any shelter. We do what must be done for Haugan, that's good enough."

  "I didn't know anything about all of that until tonight." She tilted her head. "I know the woman checked out the area. Maybe the phone conversation with the landlord brought out the kind of information she needed on whether the duplex was safe for me. Couldn't she have asked the landlord information about you?"

  "The landlord only knows me by my real name."

  Gia nodded. "Greg Jones. That's the name I was given on who would be living next door in the duplex."

  Swiss's scar deepened and he squinted. "From there, anyone can get my military background. It's not something I can't hide."

  Gia frowned. "Why would you want to?"

  "Never said I do." He caught Raelyn carrying two plates to his table and leaned back bringing the conversation to a stop. "Food's here."

  Gia looked over her shoulder and placed her hands on her lap.

  "I hope you're hungry." Raelyn sat a plate in front of Gia, then Swiss, and stepped back and let Linda—the newest waitress—set two more plates in the middle of the table. "If you need anything else, you know where to find me. And, before you ask, Swiss. Dessert will be out by the time you take your last bite."

  He flashed her a grin. "You take good care of me, Raelyn."

  "Someone has to." Raelyn stepped forward, kissed the top of Swiss's head, and stopped beside Gia. Her smile slipped. "Enjoy your meal."

  "Thank you," said Gia.

  Swiss picked up the knife, the fork, and cut into his steak. "Eat up."

  Gia glanced around at the others in the bar. Swiss, knowing she'd eat if he ate, put the piece of steak in his mouth. She copied his movements and took her first bite. From experience, he kept eating. The grilled food offered at Pine Bar and Grill was the best in the county.

  While Gia ate, she couldn't talk, and he could think about everything she'd shared with him. The landlord had no business sharing any personal information about him. Even if it was only his name, there was a right to privacy act or some such bullshit in the paperwork for his rental lease.

  After several minutes, Gia placed her fork on her plate, wiped her mouth with a napkin, and said, "You know, Raelyn doesn't approve of you eating dinner with me."

  "She's fine with it." He dropped more butter onto his baked potato, realizing that Gia was trying to figure out how Raelyn played a role in his life.

  Gia leaned forward. "She is not fine with me."

  "Her attitude has nothing to do with you," he said.

  "Well, it's certainly not you that caused her good mood to vanish."

  He glanced over at Raelyn working behind the bar, unaware of being the subject of the conversation. Swiss took a few more bites of his pota
to, scooping the corn up with each forkful. Raelyn was a good girl. Her continued involvement with Ronacks showed how deep her feelings ran. She still claimed the club as family now that Duke was gone.

  "You asked before if I've ever had to protect others. It happens more often than I'd like." He took another bite and swallowed. "About two years ago, Ronacks lost a good brother. That brother was Raelyn's man and her son's father. His name was Duke."

  Gia put her hands under the table and closed her eyes an extra beat. When she looked up again, compassion gazed back at him.

  "Two years ago?" The skin at the bridge of her nose puckered. "The baby isn't that..."

  "No." He pushed his empty plate away. "She was pregnant when she lost her husband."

  "Oh God," she mumbled. "That's awful. The poor woman."

  "Yeah. It was difficult for her, and it continues to be hard when she's reminded every day of what she is missing. Every once in a while, like tonight, I can see her looking at me, looking at you, and wishing with all her heart it was Duke taking her out to dinner, instead of her serving everyone else while her baby is upstairs with the babysitter." He planted his elbows on the table. "The club has taken care of her ever since Duke died."

  Gia swallowed. "I'm sorry. I never meant to pry. None of what you shared with me is any of my business."

  "No harm in knowing." He pointed at her plate. "Eat up."

  "I'm full."

  Half the baked potato and two bites of her steak remained. She'd done a good job getting most of the food down.

  "Sure?" he said.

  She nodded, rubbing her bare arm. "Yes. That was a lot of food."

  Swiss pulled her plate over in front of him, picked up his fork, and proceeded to finish her dinner, too. Aware of her watching him, he made sure that anyone observing them understood they were together, they came to eat, and by all appearances, he paid no attention to his surroundings.

  The opposite was true.

  While enjoying their meal, he became aware of how much he wanted Gia. She had him enjoying the meal with her and having her head on his lap and the way she continued to talk, even when he refused to reply. Those thoughts left him uncomfortable and wanting to do more than protect her.

 

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