by M. Merin
My name is called shortly afterwards and during the exam, I get the exact news I wanted. A new boy is coming to town and he looks perfectly healthy. As happy as I am about my child’s health, I can’t help feeling lonely. My aunt has been coming to most appointments and I understand why she couldn’t come today, but its days like this I can’t help but wish for he, who I refuse to think about.
And once again, I wonder if I’m doing the right thing.
Chapter 4
Shade
Riding away that day, I felt like absolute shit. Her quietly spoken, ‘I think your shade is perfect’ made me want to take her in my arms and kiss the hell out of her.
I couldn’t look back because I knew I’d never leave her.
There was a job that needed doing a couple states away and that’s what I do. When there’s work that needs to be done that would sicken most men, they call me. The contracts pay well and I get eighty percent of the fee with my chapter getting the other twenty. Works well for all of us.
My M.O. is simply to ride in a circular route to wherever the target is and slaughter them in the most brutal way imaginable, before I hit the road again. Traveling for a week or two at a time for each job, that way if I get picked up, I can show I was taking a journey and it won’t look like an in-and-out mission.
The day after meeting Jessa, the job I have goes to hell fast. The target’s brother walks in while I’m hacking the guy’s feet off. No choice but to kill him, also. Nice chunk of cash on the body of the target’s brother, which made for a good size bonus for me. I don’t want to think about what they did to get that money, it’s just better not too. The only good thing is that we were isolated enough that no one heard the second guy scream his head off before I slit his throat.
Heading out afterwards, I ride for a few hours before finding a place to stay. I stop for a bite at the roadhouse a few doors down from the motel I pick, and while the women there preen and send me all the right signals, I’m not feeling it tonight. Instead, I wander next door to a tattoo parlor.
I’ll blame it on the whiskey tomorrow, but tonight I get new ink. Just the name Rosy written on my right hand. I already know I won’t forget her but I want our meeting marked somehow.
It’s when I’m in the shower later on that I realize I should have thought that out a little more. Now every time my right hand slides up the length of my cock, I’ll see her name. No hope but to laugh at it, I guess my tight little Rosy will be getting me off in spirit from now on.
A week later, I make it home and after collecting my bounty from Jasper, I head out to the place I’ve been building on the edge of town. My Brothers all know what it is I do and while none of them ever say shit about it; they’re always on edge around me in the days after my return. Best just to stay out of sight. I’ll return a few nights later when they’re all half in the bag and not thinking about my skill set.
That and the look in some of the Girlies eyes, or the way they push the honey holes on me so I won’t fuck them. When the club girls are drunk or high, the fact that they think I’m psycho seems to slip their little minds.
The day I show myself at the clubhouse again, Russian finally puts his claim on Betsy and the tension around the room rackets up with Vice pissed off that he didn’t step it up with her. I always got on with Russian, and I find him more and more friendly towards me. Of course, that may be because I never fucked Betsy – she and I somehow became friends and even drunk, I never tried to make a move on her. Can’t imagine that part of her past will be easy on him, but that’s life.
Emma and Riley have decided to let their men’s past stay in the past. Not to say they aren’t watchful of the skanks who’d try to make a move on Jasper or Gunner but none of my Brothers who have settled down were choir boys and there’s no way to change that.
Not unusual that a month goes by until my next job, what is unusual is that job blows up bigger than the previous one. I end up having to burn a building down, hoping like hell that my DNA goes up with it. It was a fucking trap.
Down in Texas, five guys were waiting for me, rattling on about getting paid to get revenge for someone I killed. Like I keep track or give two shits about who I butcher.
I make a stop just long enough to bandage the knife wounds they inflicted and call Jasper. He quickly agrees that I should slip down to Mexico for a bit and lay low while he, Wrench, and Flint try to figure out who set me up.
More than six months, and more tequila than a man should drink in a lifetime, fly by. Every night I wonder what Rosy’s lips would have tasted like and every morning I wake up stroking my dick, dreaming of her coming under me again.
Eventually, I pick up a box of condoms. Weeks after that, a bachelorette party from the States rolls into my local watering hole and I fuck one of the girls in the bathroom. No idea what she looked like, only that I left right after I came.
I stumble out of the bar and puke on the street next to my bike. Can’t remember how I made it home but that night in bed, Rosy’s tattoo felt more like a brand. I swear I can feel it burning my flesh. It’s like a goddamn mark on my soul that’s casting a shadow over my life. Good or bad, it’s there to stay.
The thought that has been my constant companion while I’ve been down here was that I should shift gears. Find another way to be useful to my Brothers. What was fucking with my mind the most was that if I couldn’t keep telling myself I killed for my MC then I’d have to admit I killed because it made me feel good.
That old song, The Gambler, kept rolling through my head, though. So, while I know I need to walk away from the jobs I’m infamous for, I can’t figure what outlet I’d have for the rage inside me and what would I do to those around me?
I got up to puke again before finally passing out. The next day, I toss the rest of the condoms and pack my shit before I slowly made my way across the border and back home. Pulling up to the clubhouse, I’m greeted like a fucking king. Drinks were flowing almost as fast as the gossip. I had heard about Vice’s death while I was away but not seeing him screwing some chick in a corner of the clubhouse is what really drives the news home for me.
None of us are immortal. Even if it always seemed Vice was.
So many fucking kids being born and seeing Betsy glowing with the news that she is again carrying Russian’s baby, brings a huge smile to my face. I can imagine what the miscarriage last year did to her and I have to stop myself from giving her a kiss in congratulations. I smirk at the thought of how Russian would take that but I’m in too good a mood to stir up any shit.
I’m suddenly grabbed from behind and start to lash out until I realize the guy’s way bigger than I am, so it’s Gunner giving me a hard time.
“Missed you, Brother,” he finally growls and I see Riley shyly smiling at me also.
“I heard you married this asshole, Riley?” I turn to smile at her and she gives me a laugh in return. “Thought you were supposed to be all smart and shit.”
“Smartest thing I ever did, Shade,” she slips her arm around his waist and as usual he beams down on her, holding her tight. The thought of Rosy smiling at me like that makes my throat tighten up, and I swear I feel my tattoo burning again.
“You heard that Frank has cancer and, of course, about Vice?” Gunner asks and I nod, clinking my glass against his in a silent toast to Vice. “Lotta shit coming our way, even with the Governor toning it down in the fallout after the Maddocks’ deaths. We could use you close to home.”
I notice Riley doesn’t flinch when he mentions her family and am constantly surprised at her loyalty to Gunner, and the MC by extension.
“Thinking about finding a new specialty,” I say while scratching at my hand. I figure he’s a good one to feel out on the idea.
“Could use some help with my business, if that’s what you mean?”
“Well, I am good with axes,” I shoot out and a loud snort bursts out of Riley.
“Sorry, oh my God, I’m sorry,” she starts before a giggle escapes her and she s
laps her hands over her mouth as she tries to hold back her laughter.
Gunner and I share a tight smile while she tries to keep a straight face. It’s not often my specialty is brought up around here and I’ve sure as hell never gotten that response before. More than that, it shows the depth of their bond if Gunner confirmed any of the rumors I’m sure she’s heard about me.
“My grandfather taught me a little about carpentry, though,” I start again, giving her a small grin before looking back to him. “I’d like to try.”
“Get settled in, then swing by my shop some time,” Gunner slaps my arm just as Riley crosses to Charlie, her shoulders still shaking and I gotta admit I like her sense of humor. “You okay?” he asks, studying my face closely and I just nod in response.
“You seem different somehow,” he says, his eyes dropping down to my hands.
“Just gotta figure some things out,” I shrug. “Thanks for your offer, Brother.”
Noticing Jasper over his shoulder, I throw back a shot and grab another beer before following my Pres down to his office.
“What do you want to do, Shade?” Jasper asks before I’ve even sat down.
“Gunner offered me some work with him, think I’d like to do that for a while. Maybe do some supply runs.”
He watches me closely.
“Wasn’t expecting that answer. We’re no closer on figuring out who’s after you. I can’t say I like the number of offers being thrown our way for your services. Someone’s still trying to hook you, is our best guess,” Jas says after a pause. “Maybe something different makes sense now, if you think you can handle that?”
“I don’t know what I am, Jasper.” I stare at him dead on. “I know I’m not wired right but there’s only so much I can hide behind club business. What I do helps keep me centered, helps me be around people. I may take a job now and then, but you and I both know: if one group can set me up, another will. I’m gonna stay out at my place. Start up the work on it again. Gunner sounded like he’d have some projects for me at his business.”
“And Rosy?” Jasper throws out, stopping me cold.
“No one.” I lie.
“A body that’ll turn up?”
“What?!” I nearly yell.
“That name on your hand, Shade. You’ve been scratching it bloody since you sat down. I need to know if you killed a woman…” he glares across at me.
“Fuck no, Jasper. Rosy is…well, it was just a night on the road. I went one way, she went the other,” I answer him, looking down at my hand and noticing the rawness around her tattoo again. I have to stop touching it. He still doesn’t speak and I can’t help but to fill the silence. “I did hurt her. Not the way you’re thinking but still, she was different than what I’m used to. Nothing really feels right since then.”
He continues studying me for a time, finally nodding to himself before he says he has to get home to his Ol’ Lady and kids.
Chapter 5
April 2019
Shade
I settled in to my new role easier than I thought. Working regular hours with Gunner and going on supply runs seems to make my Brothers more comfortable around me.
It’s during the nights that I miss my old job and think about taking up hunting to satisfy this fucked up need in me. I’m staying frosty by sparring with Gunner or Jake in the clubhouse’s gym; while they have a few inches on me, their reach makes me work hard for every fight won. The Madda kid is about to be patched and is eager to learn but keeps getting cocky, ending up flat on his back more often than not. The last thing I want is the ‘wrath of Bree’ coming down on me, if she gets wind of where his bruises are coming from.
My hand has been busier than hell, pulling on my cock every night and morning. Sometimes I give a halfhearted thought to getting one of the Girlies to blow me for some relief, but haven’t considered fucking anyone since Mexico. My stomach turns every time that memory surfaces and I try like hell to push it away.
Some days, Rosy’s tattoo doesn’t even look that raw. Other mornings, I wake up to find it scabbed. The guys give me shit about the mystery woman but I don’t listen to it anymore. Spending more time around the Brothers with Ol’ Ladies makes life a bit easier – the Girlies and most of the honey holes have learned to stay clear of me. I don’t even bother getting up to dance anymore.
*
It’s unseasonably warm this spring, bringing an abrupt end to ski season and the local ski lodges aren’t taking it well. In response, the town council decides to change its Annual Spring Event to cover multiple weekends, giving tourists options and keeping the resorts happy. During Church, Jasper calls out assignments of ‘volunteers’ for the upcoming weekends and didn’t that asshole put me on the list.
Everyone laughs when I growl. “Kept you off the rotation for this shit before,” Flint smirks at me. “You’re at the grown-up table now, though.”
I glare at him but meet with Russian afterwards to see what I’ll need to do. Hearing the dates I’ll be working, I realize it’s been nearly a year since I met my Rosy. I’ve got to get past the memories of our night together. They’ve been holding me back too long.
*
The Spring gathering is even more annoying than I imagined. Fucking tourists and kids everywhere. Walking through the town square, I work with Russian to move cash from various vendors to the security trailer.
Exiting the trailer, I nearly wipe out on the rickety steps but grab the railing to steady myself. That’s when I catch a glimpse of long, brown curls and nearly go sprinting after the woman who caught my eye. The closer I get to her the more certain I am that it’s my girl.
“Rosy!” I call out, but she keeps moving. A child nearly runs into her and as she shifts out of the way I see her concentrating on not spilling the drinks she holds in each hand, but most of all, I see the face from my dreams. “JESSA!”
My bellow causes her head to whip around and when her eyes meet mine, her lips silently form my name. Jessa’s big, brown eyes dart around like she’s trying to find a direction to run but I close the distance between us too quickly.
And there’s only one thing on my mind when I finally reach her. Every day since I left her at that bus stop I’ve been dreaming of kissing her. Of setting some really big expectations.
Cupping her face, I lean down to press my lips against hers, kissing her for all I’m worth. Her soft lips open in a gasp and I take the opportunity to slip my tongue in, swirling it around hers.
Beer and cola is spilled all over me and while my mind tells me that she grabbed my cut to pull me closer, her teeth close down on my tongue and I arch back in surprise.
“What are you doing?” she hisses, looking around us. Rosy looks amazing. She’s even more beautiful than the image in my memory. I can see she’s angry as hell but her cheeks are pink and her chest looks as inviting as ever from within her green sweater.
“I found you,” I smile at her, pretty fucking impressed with myself.
“I wasn’t lost,” she spins away from me, shaking drops of beer from her fingertips. For the first time, it hits me that she could be here with someone else. That she hasn’t given me a second thought since… Fuck. Since I walked away from her.
“Wait!” I call out, no longer feeling as proud of myself. She doesn’t get more than a few feet away from me when I reach out and sweep her into my arms, bridal style, before I stride into the nearest alley. “Rosy, please. I think about you all the time.”
“Put me down,” her voice is like ice, no longer the shy tones she used with me last year, and I carefully place her back on her feet.
“Can we talk a minute, Rosy? Please?” I plead, her reaction irritating me. After the night we had, the night that I re-live all the fucking time, I can’t stand her indifference.
“My name is Jessa.” She glares up at me.
“Yeah, but you know why I call you Rosy,” I step closer to her, my eyes dipping to her chest before I take in her eyes again. “How long are you in town?” I try n
ext.
“I live here. W-what about you?” she counters, backing away from me.
“Jesus Christ, me too, well, I’m not in town much really. I fucking think about you, Christ, sometimes I think I just imagined you. That you couldn’t be real,” I stop my hand from reaching out to her when she turns her glare on me again.
“You…you don’t g…”
“Jessa? You alright?” Roy stands at the head of the alley, his fists balled up. She nods, looking between him and me. “Your…aunt needs you,” he says and something passes between them that I don’t understand. She barely hesitates before spinning and running past him.
Roy blocks my path when I move to follow her – hating the feeling that I’m the bad guy, in a reversal of my roll from last year.
“Rosy?” He points at my hand.
“It was a nickname I made up for Jessa,” I answer but that seems to piss him off even more. “Why the fuck do you even care?”
“I’m gonna marry her aunt. You don’t go near her without an invite, you hear me? You sick son-of-a-bitch.” Roy has always kept the disgust he feels for me under the surface but today it’s on full display and I feel that old, familiar rage building inside of me. I know what this old bastard is capable of so he sure as hell has no right to judge me.
“Fuck off, old man,” I growl and finally push past him. I search the crowd but she’s gone and Roy’s the only lead I have on her now.
Standing still, I take a deep breath to get my emotions in check. Exhaling, I look around again until I see Gunner standing nearly a head above everyone else. Walking towards him, I steadily inhale and exhale, trying to calm the rage that’s fighting to take control of me. Gunner must sense it because his head turns and his focus zeros in on me, like I might be a threat, and he places his body between Riley and me.
“What?” he growls, standing at his full height.
“Who’s Roy’s lady friend?”
“Ellie, she manages the police station. Why?”
