Ruthless

by Gillian Archer

  “I can see the appeal. Holy shit, kid, when you aim outside of your class you shoot for the stars.”

  The blatant compliment alleviated a little bit of my anxiety. A little, not all. I sent Zag the look.

  He just shrugged, then threw an arm around my shoulders and steered us toward the porch. “Hey, I got taste.”

  “I see that,” Reb grumbled.

  I still felt uneasy at the undercurrents swirling around us. It felt like the guys were having a whole subtext conversation that I wasn’t in on. That it wasn’t just about my appearance. I decided to employ my when-in-doubt-keep-my-mouth-shut strategy.

  “Who’s on patrol?” Zag asked.

  Reb rubbed his cheek. “Stretch and Tank have the first shift. We’ll send some guys out to relieve them in a few hours, assuming nothing happens.”

  My eyes bugged out. What the hell did they think might happen? An invasion?

  Zag shrugged. “If you’re happy with only two guys…”

  “It’s my house. We’re good.”

  After that weird exchange, Zag steered us over to the side of the porch where the drinks were laid out. I barely had a chance to take in the large, sprawling ranch-style house beyond the wraparound porch when someone yelled Zag’s name.

  I spun around to find him in the arms of a gorgeous bottle blonde who looked maybe in her late thirties.

  A huge grin swept across her face as she pulled back. “Where the hell have you been, stranger? We’ve been waiting eons to meet the girl who got the commitment-phobic man himself to claim an old lady.”

  Claim? Old lady? This time I couldn’t hold my tongue. “What the fuck does that mean? Claim? You claimed me? What, like some helpless slave girl? This is taking your ridiculous caveman shtick to extremes. Do I have to follow ten steps behind you?”

  “Fuck, Brittany. Look what you did.” Zag paused like he was bracing himself, then faced me. “Because of the situation with Preacher, I thought the best way to protect you was to claim you in front of the club. It doesn’t mean anything. You just get the protection of my boys no matter what happens with Preacher. You have the entire club at your back now. It was the only thing to do to keep you safe.”

  I bit my lip as his words sank in. The way Brittany had been acting, “claiming” was a big deal in his circle. And judging from his words and the way everyone was being extremely careful not to look in our direction made me think I’d overreacted. Not to mention the way his “It doesn’t mean anything” comment made me feel.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t understand.” I looked around, anywhere but at Zag. “Can I use the bathroom?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Brittany gave me a tremulous smile. “I’ll show you the way.”

  “Thanks.” I gave Zag another awkward little wave. What the hell was that? Since when was that my go-to move? I hunched my shoulders as I followed Brittany into the house.

  “Down that hallway and it’s the second door on the left.”

  I gave her a distracted little smile and then stared fixedly at my feet as I followed her directions. Once I was inside the bathroom, I closed the door and locked it behind me. I walked over to the sink and stared at my reflection in the mirror. I looked just as pale as I felt. What the hell was I doing? Did I really care about the whole “claiming” thing? I turned on the tap and leaned against the sink.

  And a little voice answered my unspoken question. Yes, I cared. I cared because it mattered to Zag. It was an important thing to him no matter what he said out there, and I’d just bashed him because of it. Dammit. I’d have to find a way to make it up to him without calling attention to his bruised manhood.

  Easier said than done.

  With a sigh, I turned off the tap. In the meantime, I’d have to find a way to go back out there without feeling like a moron. Not the best first impression. Fuck it. I’d take the Band-Aid approach—quick and easy. Hopefully these guys would have more class than I apparently did.

  After taking a deep breath, I left the bathroom and walked down the hallway to the living room. Where Brittany was waiting for me. Quick like a Band-Aid, I told myself.

  I spread my hands. “Hey, I’m really sorry about all that. It just took me by surprise and I—”

  “No, I’m sorry. I know the way we do things isn’t the norm or whatever. And despite what Zag says, it is a big deal. He’s never claimed an old lady before. You’re different.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, I’m different all right. I cause a huge scene within five minutes of showing up. I really am sorry about that. I, um—I was on edge just being here in the first place and—no, excuses. I was in the wrong. I’m sorry.”

  Brittany tilted her head. “Why were you on edge coming here?”

  “I just—this is all really new to me. Until now bikers were the scary guys in the back of the bar I was too afraid to make eye contact with. But now…”

  “Now you know Zag.”

  “Yeah, and he’s nothing like that. Don’t get me wrong—I wouldn’t want to be on his bad side. But that isn’t the sum total of him.” He was protective and could be really sweet sometimes in his own way. There was depth to him. If he’d ever just let me past the surface…I considered my options—and there weren’t many. But to get Zag to trust me and share those parts of himself with me, I’d definitely have to stop acting like a wimp and balking at the first little speed bump. Granted a drug-dealing buddy was a pretty big speed bump. But still. This whole old lady thing was small beans in comparison. If anything, it was an honor—moniker notwithstanding.

  “I get you two now.”

  “What?” I blinked as the room and Brittany came back into focus. I’d been so lost in my thoughts I’d forgotten I was talking to her.

  “You and Zag. You’re perfect for him.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about perfect, but—”

  “Take the compliment.”

  My face heated. “Right. Yes, thank you. I guess.”

  Brittany shook her head. “At the very least, you’re going to keep him on his toes. One more piece of advice—whatever you do, do not embarrass him like that in front of the club again. He might forgive you, but the boys have long memories. They don’t like it when anyone screws with one of their own.”

  I bit my lip and nodded. I hadn’t been planning on embarrassing Zag, but maybe given my surroundings I’d be better off just keeping my mouth shut.

  A huge smile swept Brittany’s previously stern face. “Now I’ve got you all tense. No need for that. Come on, we’ll get you something nice and strong to help you loosen up.”

  I shook my head helplessly. Something told me that I didn’t have a choice when Brittany was determined. She kind of reminded me of Nicole. I’d bet those two would really get along. Despite my earlier nerves, the thought relaxed me somewhat. “Beer. I like beer.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, if there’s one thing we have plenty of here it’s beer.”

  I laughed as I followed Brittany to the cluster of kegs. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to fit in here after all.

  Chapter 14

  Zag

  With a heavy sigh, Zag watched Jessica hightail it inside the house. Dammit, he really thought that would’ve gone better.

  “Doesn’t mean anything?”

  Zag closed his eyes at Reb’s not-too-subtle taunt. Fuck, he’d been hoping his friend would let that one slide. “Just trying to put out the fire before it starts. Besides, the only reason we’re together is Preacher.”

  Reb gave him the doubtful side-eye before taking a long pull on his can of beer.

  The look always filled Zag with nerves, like he wasn’t measuring up or something. He half wondered if that was what it felt like when a father wasn’t happy with his kid, but Zag would never know. He couldn’t remember what his dad looked like, and he was pretty sure his mom couldn’t pick the sorry son of bitch out of a lineup. If she was still alive.

  “If you only claimed her because of Preacher, I think it’s overkill.”

 
; “He’s a desperate man. And desperate men do stupid, crazy shit. She’s too important to let slip through the cracks.”

  Reb’s eyebrows rose. “But it still doesn’t mean anything?”

  “Fuck off.” Zag ignored the smug little smile Reb threw his way. “It does. About Preacher, I mean. And she needs it. Us. The club. Fuck. You know what I mean.”

  The corners of Reb’s mouth twitched. “Yeah. And it’s not. About Preacher, I mean.”

  And now Zag felt like a stuttering teen all hopped up on hormones and unable to form a coherent sentence. Son of a bitch. “It is. He’s all whacked out on drugs. He was fucking selling to Saddletramps. There’s no telling what he’ll do when he’s out. He had shit for brains before the drugs and now—”

  “And now he’s out.”

  “What? Fuck. Since when?”

  “I got word yesterday. Apparently some of those fucking Saddletramps footed the bill and sprung him.”

  An intense rage filled Zag. It took everything inside him to keep his fists at his sides and not in Reb’s face like he truly wanted. “And you didn’t think to fucking tell me? What the hell, Reb? She’s my fucking woman. You should’ve told me the second you found out. That’s bullshit!”

  “What’s bullshit is you saying you’re only with her because of Preacher. You’re in deep, son.”

  “Wait, what? No, you fucking owe me an explanation. It’s my job to protect her.”

  “It’s being handled. We put a tail on Preacher the second he got out. Plus I knew you had Jessica covered.” Reb put his beer on the railing and snickered at his obvious play on words.

  Not that Zag gave a fuck. “Doesn’t matter. You should’ve fucking told me.”

  “And I wanted to see how you’d react. Now I know. You gotta be careful—a woman like that will get deep under your skin before you know it.”

  “What are you talking about? This is fucking bullshit. You pull a goddamn stunt like this again, we’re gonna have more than a discussion about it. You get me?”

  Reb lifted his hands in a clear signal of surrender. “I get you. But for the record, this has nothing to do with Preacher. You’re in deep.”

  “So fucking what if I am?” He didn’t think he was. They’d only been together a few weeks, fucked a couple dozen times, cuddled on the couch while watching baseball…

  Dammit.

  Reb grabbed his beer and took another long pull. When he was done, he studied the top of his can like it held all the secrets of the world. “Just know what you’re getting into. Before it’s too late.”

  Too late? What the fuck did he mean by that? Zag opened his mouth but had to leave the question unasked when a screeching voice filled the yard.

  “What the fucking hell? Reb, get over here! Right now!”

  Reb closed his eyes for a beat, and when he opened them Zag saw a swirl of emotion his friend didn’t bother to hide. And none of it happy.

  “Just think about what I said, son.” Reb pushed away from the railing with a world-weary sigh and took off across the yard to find out what his wife, Rhonda, was squawking about now.

  Because she was shrieking. Five seconds later, her finger was inches from Reb’s face about some drama she most likely stirred up on her own. Zag couldn’t understand why they were still together. That woman was trouble, plain and simple. And too much fucking work.

  The screen door slammed open and Reb and Rhonda’s seven-year-old son, Tucker, came barreling out. He raced across the porch but stopped dead when he caught sight of all the bikers watching his mom screaming into his dad’s face.

  Shit.

  “Hey, Tuck. Have you had a burger yet?” Zag waved him over in a vain attempt to distract him from what was probably by now a very familiar sight.

  Tucker hitched a shoulder but didn’t look up from his shoes.

  Zag grabbed a soda from the ice chest, then walked over to Tucker. He threw an arm around the kid’s shoulders and gently steered him in the opposite direction, away from his warring folks. “Let’s go get our burgers. I think Axle is manning the grill, and you know how crazy he can get when it comes to meat. He’s probably twenty patties deep by now.”

  Tucker gave a wet chuckle and the sound tore Zag up. He could remember when scenes with his own mom had his chest aching for days. Then again, they usually ended with other parts of him aching—like his cheek or nose. Of course that was before he developed the thick skin he’d needed to survive a fucking nutcase like his meth-addicted ma. Reb should be doing a hell of a lot more to shade his kid from this shit. He’d have to talk to him about it later.

  When his wife wasn’t raking him over the coals about muddy boots in her house. In front of everyone, no less. Fuck, he needed to shake loose of that raging bitch. For his kid, if nothing else.

  But Zag kept his thoughts to himself as he escorted Tucker to the barbecue area around the back of the house. Instead, he passed the kid a soda, kept an arm around his shoulders, and walked the short distance with him in compatible silence. Or at least Zag hoped it was compatible.

  They turned the corner and Zag spotted Axle flipping burgers at the grill, but the person he was bullshitting with made Zag hesitate. Bumper stood on the other side of the grill drinking a beer and laughing like it was old times. Like it hadn’t been a week since anyone had seen him.

  Because it had been that long for Zag. The last time he saw his buddy was at the meeting a week back when they voted to oust Preacher and Bump hadn’t taken the news all that well.

  Tucker noticed his hesitation and looked up at Zag, his big blue eyes clouded with worry. Fuck. He didn’t want to be the one to make the kid anxious about anything today. He had enough on his slender little shoulders.

  “Holy crap.” Zag feigned amazement. “Do you see that mound of burgers? We’ll be eating patties for weeks!”

  Tucker’s shoulders shook with his suppressed laughter.

  “I think I’ve found a job for you, kid. You better get to eating or we’ll be buried in burgers in a few minutes.”

  Zag led the way over to the grill and the waiting heap of meat and fixings. Apparently Axle was grilling enough to feed a zombie apocalypse.

  “Hey, guys, got enough for a hungry kid here?”

  Axle grinned. “Shit yeah. Grab a plate, Tuck, and dig in.”

  Zag smiled at the undisguised glee on Tucker’s face. At least that was one disaster avoided.

  Of course, it didn’t ease the tension inside him, though. Not one to duck a fight, Zag looked at Bumper and tilted his head. “Long time no see.”

  Bump gave a little laugh and nodded. “Yup.”

  Not certain what to say next, Zag nodded, then looked around the backyard. Although there really wasn’t much to see. Some patchy grass. A few junkers stripped down to their hubs. A couple of huge oak trees along the fence line. And a shit ton of dirt.

  Bumper cleared his throat. “So did I miss anything exciting?”

  “Not really. Pretty much same ol’, same ol’.”

  Bump nodded again.

  “So where have you been the last couple days? Didn’t see you around the shop.”

  “I had to take a little ride. Clear my head. Figure some shit out.”

  This time it was Zag’s turn to nod. He could see that. Nothing like some time on the open road to clear a man’s head and help him get perspective. “So everything’s cool?”

  “Yeah, man, we’re cool. Wouldn’t say everything’s good, but we are.”

  Zag nodded again. He knew all this shit with Preacher had really fucked with his buddy’s head. He couldn’t imagine the mind fuck it would give him if Reb was the one who went off the rails. The man was like a father to him. Hell, he was the only father figure Zag could remember. He wasn’t gonna give Bumper shit for needing some time to wrap his brain around the situation with Preacher.

  “So where’s your lady? When do I get to meet the amazing chick who convinced you to commit?”

  This time Zag bit back his denial of what hi
s relationship with Jessica truly was. Whether it was because he didn’t want the teasing to continue or because he wanted to shield his friend from his own suspicions about Preacher, he couldn’t say. And there was no way in hell he was going to admit the third reason. Not even to himself. Good things didn’t ever happen to guys like him.

  Instead, he just shook his head. “I dunno. She’s around here somewhere. Last I saw she was hightailing it into the house with Stitch’s old lady, Brittany.”

  Bump laughed. “Thick as thieves already? Man, you don’t stand a chance.”

  Before Zag had a second to figure out what that meant, his attention was drawn to the other side of the patio where Bobby had just come around the corner yelling at whoever was on the other end of his phone call.

  “I don’t give a shit.” Bobby rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand. “No…Fuck no. I don’t owe you shit…Maybe you should get your strung-out boyfriend to cough up rent. I’m done.”

  Bobby slapped his phone with barely restrained violence. His whole body tensed up like he was getting ready to chuck his phone as far as he could, but after a second the tension drained from his body and he slid his phone into his pocket.

  Bumper slammed down his drink. “What the—”

  Zag grabbed Bumper’s shoulder when he moved in Bobby’s direction. “Give him a few minutes. He’s got a lotta shit on his plate right now.”

  “What the hell is going on lately?”

  Zag shook his head. “Fucking drama. No end of drama.”

  “You got that right.” Bumper’s head turned slightly, then he let out a low wolf whistle. “Holy shit, man. If that’s not your woman, I’m calling dibs.”

  Zag looked in the direction Bumper indicated and couldn’t deny the shit-eating grin that swept across his face right before he punched Bumper on the shoulder. “Over my dead body, fucker.”

  Brittany had rounded the corner of the house. But it wasn’t the stacked blonde’s skintight jeans that had Bumper’s attention—he knew better than to get caught checking Stitch’s woman out. Jessica’s slow rolling walk had them all hypnotized. The way her jean-clad hips swayed with every step she took damn near had Zag biting his tongue off. Fuck, the woman was a walking billboard for sex. He’d love nothing more than to grab her and make off for the nearest bush, but the thought of the audience—and the endless amount of shit he’d get for it later—had him staying put.