by J. L. Leslie
I use my foot to kick open the door and walk over to where the dumpster is. I push open the lid and toss the bag inside. As I’m shutting it, I feel someone smack my ass. Are you kidding me?
I turn around, and there are three of the teenage boys that I just served inside. They are grinning from ear to ear, leering at me.
“Very funny, boys. I think you need to get back inside.”
“We came to give you our tip,” one of them teases, cupping his crotch through his jeans.
I roll my eyes. “Wow, how original.”
He furrows his brow and then gives me a hard shove against the dumpster. I shove him back, and he stumbles back a few steps. It was a snap reaction, but I don’t regret it.
“Don’t touch me, kid!” I warn him.
The other two snicker and push at me, but I push them back too. I won’t go down without a fight. Sure, it’s three against one, and I don’t really stand a chance, but I’ll make sure they remember picking on me! These pricks probably get off on this type of shit, and someone has to fight back.
The one who I assume is the leader of these little fuckers grabs my face, gripping it with his fingers. I smell tonight’s special on his face as he gets closer to me. I hate meatloaf.
“I’ll touch you if I want to!” he hisses, and I spit right onto his cheek.
He releases me, and I throw a punch, connecting my right fist with his jaw. His friends laugh, and he lets out a curse. I wait for him to hit me back, but he doesn’t. The loud noise of a motorcycle engine thunders and the three of them look toward it with fear before running off.
I stand there watching the man on the bike as he stops it and puts the kickstand down. He removes his helmet, and I see that it’s him. It’s Lucien McNamara. The Revenant.
“You okay?” he asks, climbing off his bike.
“I’m fine.” I start back toward the diner, and he follows me, which annoys the hell out of me.
“You don’t look fine. You look like you were having problems with those little shits,” he says. “I don’t mind handling–”
“I am fine. I’m annoyed that some biker I don’t know is following me into my job,” I snap.
“Okay, so you’re one of those women.”
I stop walking, and he runs into my back. It feels like a damn truck hits me, he’s so solid. I turn around to face him and realize he didn’t back up so he’s right there. I look up, and he’s staring down at me with those fucking piercing obsidian eyes.
“One of those women?” I ask him, and he smirks.
“Yeah. One of those women. You know? The kind that can’t accept help when it’s being offered.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “No, I’m not one of those women. I’m one of those women who doesn’t need help,” I inform him. “And besides, you didn’t offer it.”
I walk away from him and notice that he follows me in the back door and takes a seat at an empty table. Alone. And it just so happens to be in my section.
Great.
Chapter Five
Lucien
She waits an entire ten minutes before she comes to where I’m sitting. I could see her behind the counter, pretending like she was busy, but it was obvious that she was avoiding me.
I like her sass. I also like the fact that she decked that kid. He fucking deserved it. I saw the way he grabbed her. I can only guess what he said to her. Those punks are trouble. They’re only kids, but if they’re trying that shit now, there’s no telling what they’ll be doing later. It’s only a matter of time.
“What can I get you?” she asks, pad and pen ready.
“What did he say to you?”
“I hear the special is good tonight. You like meatloaf?” she replies, ignoring my question.
I smile, liking her evasiveness. “You have a mean right hook.” I see the hint of a smile, but she doesn’t cave. “Meatloaf is fine. You may want to put some ice on those knuckles.”
I notice her glance down, but she doesn’t want to admit that they’re red and swollen. They’re probably sore too. She’s too prideful for the ice. She was also too prideful to call for help outside. She was close enough to the diner that someone would’ve heard her. Instead, she was trying to take on three boys that were clearly bigger than her. She didn’t stand a chance.
She’s a fucking enigma. I told myself I would stay away from her. And I have. For over a week. I focused on making sure Jiminez wasn’t going to pull some shit on the club, and I waited to get word from him.
Warren set me up a meeting with the Rykers’ supplier, and Harco is working on intel for the Hades Riders’ families. I want to start contacting them as soon as possible. See if they need anything. How they’re doing. Fuck, try to clear my name with them.
So, I stayed away from this diner for a whole week. Told myself I needed to leave this girl alone. But the truth is, I thought about her. I haven’t thought about another woman aside from Spencer Ellis in over three years.
Except for this one.
I watch her tuck a loose strand of her reddish-brown hair behind her ear before she takes my plate from the cook. I notice how she bites her bottom lip and furrows her brow as she walks toward me. I wonder if she’ll do that when I fuck her.
“Here you go,” she says, placing my food in front of me. “Need a refill?”
“Why didn’t you call for help?” I question her. “There were three of them and one of you.”
“Really? There were three of them?” she feigns shock.
“Did you really think you could take them on?”
She arches an eyebrow. “I do have a mean right hook.”
I laugh, a sound almost foreign to me, and she takes my glass, walking off to get me a refill. Damn, this woman has some sass. I don’t want to think that she reminds me of Spencer. She was always full of sass too.
Despite the color of her hair, which is similar to Spencer’s, she really doesn’t remind me of her. She’s different in a lot of ways. It just feels good to be interested in a woman that I can actually have, even if I shouldn’t want her. Shouldn’t have her.
She appears to have a simple life. She’s a waitress here at this diner, and she probably goes home to a worry-free life. Being involved with someone like me will fuck that up for her. It’s not fair of me to do that to her.
Yet, my interest in her is not allowing me to deny myself.
Harper
I know it’s wrong that I like what he said to me. It feels like it was a compliment. I’m proud that I stood up for myself and I like that he noticed. I really shouldn’t like it. He’s the reason Gavin is dead. He is who killed Gavin.
I should despise him.
I should hate him.
I tell myself that I do.
But there’s something about him that says there’s more to him than what I see on the surface. Maybe it’s because Gavin was the only guy in my life for so long that a little attention from someone new is exciting. I tell myself that’s the reason as I head back to his table.
“And here’s your refill.”
I put his glass down in front of him and see that he’s halfway through his plate already. Must’ve been hungry. Either that or he’s used to eating fast. I hear you have to eat like that in two places. The army and in prison.
“Thank you,” he mumbles, mouth half-full. He swallows quickly and licks his lips, drawing my eyes to them. “So, you want me to give you a ride home from work?”
“I’m sorry?”
He takes a sip of coke and then wipes his mouth. “Sorry. My name is Lucien,” he extends his hand, which I don’t shake. “I just figured after what I saw a little while ago, that it would be a good thing to make sure you get home safely.”
He’s lowered his hand back down, and I’m somewhat curious what it would feel like to have shaken his hand. To touch him. To know for sure that he is physically alive even though I can see him.
“Do you honestly think that I would give you my address and let you take me home?” I ask him
. “I know absolutely nothing about you.”
“Well, you know that I like meatloaf, so that’s a start.”
“I hate meatloaf, so it just isn’t going to work,” I smart.
“Look, I know you walked home the last time I saw you working. So, if you’re planning to walk home tonight or in the morning, whenever your shift ends, I would like to drive you home.”
Is he serious? The way he’s looking at me tells me that he is. “If my shift ended in the morning, you would come back and drive me home?”
“No,” he answers. “I would wait here until your shift ends and then I would drive you home. I can wait.”
I laugh at him, shaking my head. “You can’t be serious.”
He stares at me, not smiling or smirking or giving me any indication that he’s joking.
“No, I’m good. I don’t need you to take me home. I appreciate the offer though.”
I tear his bill off my pad and put it on the table. I don’t look back at him as I walk off. I take care of the rest of my tables, and I don’t notice when he leaves. He does leave a generous tip, and I smile when I put it in my apron, not caring that it’s probably drug money. I get paid by the same drug money from Hell’s Fury, so it is what it is.
When my shift ends, I say goodnight to Donnie and Molly and head outside. I glance around for any sign of the boys from earlier tonight but don’t see them. I do, however, see Lucien perched on his bike. My heart does a little flip-flop and I scold myself for it. I don’t know why I’m reacting this way to him.
Instead of acknowledging him, I walk right past him. I manage not to jump when his engine comes to life. I keep my eyes forward as his bike rolls up beside me. He doesn’t say anything, just rides beside me at a slow pace, his feet dangling down and touching the pavement every few feet.
“What are you doing?” I ask, finally breaking the silence between us.
“Making sure you get home safely. I told you I didn’t mind. You’re the one being stubborn.”
I look forward again, trying not to smile. He continues to ride beside me, managing to keep his bike at the same pace that I’m walking. Sometimes he gets ahead of me, but then he circles around in the road and allows me to catch up.
When we reach my house, he waits until I open my door and step inside before driving away. I close my door and rest against it with a sigh.
Mackenzie stands in front of me with her arms crossed. The expression on her face tells me she saw him. She knows who it was.
“I know, and I don’t need a lecture,” I let her know.
“No lecture,” she assures me. “Just not sure why he would be bringing you home.”
“Technically, he didn’t bring me home.”
“Harper, don’t give me that shit. The man who killed Gavin just brought you to your door. I’m not sure how you plan on killing him when you’re practically drooling over him.”
“The plan hasn’t changed.”
“Oh, so you just want to fuck him first?” she questions me, crossing her arms over her chest.
I shush her, looking around for Layla and she tells me she’s already asleep. I reach up and pull the ponytail holder from my hair and let it fall around my shoulders.
“I wouldn’t do that,” I promise her. “And like I said, the plan hasn’t changed.”
She grabs her purse and goes to my door. She looks over her shoulder as she opens it to leave.
“Yeah, I don’t think that would be honoring Gavin’s memory, and that’s why we’re doing this. Don’t forget that.”
“I will never forget that.”
Chapter Six
Lucien
I wait on the rest of the members to file into the room. It’s time for church. I know Ford and Mack never called our meetings ‘church’, but I’m the president now, and it’s what I’m calling it.
“I’m not going to beat around the fucking bush,” I begin. “Our funds are low. We are usually well over the two hundred thousand mark, but we all know the reason that’s changed. We don’t have any product either. The meeting with Jiminez didn’t go as planned. He has a partner that he’s exclusive with now. Anyone have an idea on who it might be?”
Wiggie speaks up first, “Supposed to be some new club but I can’t get a word on who it is. They’re low-key. Have an in with the DEA.”
“And no one knows who the fuck they are?” I question. “Who could have the DEA wrapped up? They’ve never been willing to work with us.”
“Nope. No word,” Wiggie shakes his head.
I look to Soco and tell him to allow Warren in on the meeting. I’m sure Ian, our other prospect, may not take too kindly to it since prospects aren’t allowed to attend church, but I’m the fucking president, and I don’t give a shit. He doesn’t have any intel that I know about, so he’s not getting in.
“You have the meeting set with your guy?”
He nods. “I’ll take you to him this week. You should know that he’ll require a favor up front before he’ll agree to anything. That’s just the way he operates. Like I said, he’s kind of a dick.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” I reply. “Anyone have any ideas on how to get some fast money rolling in? Since we don’t have any product at the moment, I’m open to suggestions.”
A few of the guys mumble amongst themselves and then Reid talks. “When we took out the Riders, we got a reputation for being ruthless. Why don’t we bank on that somehow?”
“You mean being hired guns or some shit?” Soco asks.
“No,” Reid shakes his head. “But I could do that if that’s what it takes. I mean like an underground fighting competition or some shit. Charge to enter by division. Club prospects, members, and presidents, and then fight until you’re the last fucking man standing. We did it once before under Mack’s leadership and pulled in over $100K. There’s a lot of dickheads around here who would pay to get a piece of us.”
“We lost a lot of men doing that shit too. When there are no rules and it’s the whole ‘last man standing’ bullshit, then a lot of those dickheads didn’t know when to stop. It was risky as fuck, asshole,” Soco comments.
“Only if you can’t fight,” Reid smirks. “You probably shouldn’t enter.”
“Fuck you.”
I consider his suggestion, despite his jab at our VP, and I honestly don’t think it’s a bad idea. If it brought in that much cash before then we don’t need to rule it out. We’ve made a lot of enemies, and we need some fast money.
We can’t continue to spend through our funds. It takes money to run a club like ours. We have mouths to feed and bikes to maintain. Not to mention the names on our payroll. If they don’t get paid, we don’t keep their services, and our members don’t stay out of jail. We might not have the DEA on our payroll but we have some powerful people in our back pocket, and it takes money to pay the police chief, the mayor, and judges.
“Set it up, Reid,” I tell him. “You can put me down as a fighter for my division.”
“You think that’s a good idea?” Wiggie asks. “I mean, we just lost our last president, the sorry fucker, and now you want to enter a fighting competition where you could be killed?”
“How would it look if the Sinners hosted that and I didn’t enter?”
“Good point.”
“Now, Harco, where are we with finding the family members for the Riders? I want to make contact with them.”
“I think you need to let the past stay in the past,” Harco says. “It won’t do any good to remind them of what we did to those men.”
There’s a part of me that knows he’s right. Ford ordered them to be publicly displayed, their innards hanging out of their bodies. Their flesh mutilated and burned. It was certainly not a way for their families to remember them. The last I knew of their kin, they had left town so they wouldn’t meet the same fate.
I want them to know that I was not the man who did that to them. I want them to know who was responsible and that he is no longer alive. I want to make am
ends, even if it may not be possible for me to do so. My conscience needs me to at least attempt it.
“Just get me the information.”
Harper
I pay the cab driver and grab the bag of takeout, hoping Mackenzie will accept it as my apology. I know she didn’t expect to see Lucien escort me home last night. I don’t like arguing with her. She’s my best friend. I knew her before I was a member of Hell’s Fury.
Mackenzie and I went to high school together, and when I moved to Long Beach after graduation, she stayed here in L.A., but we always kept in touch. Gavin was always back and forth from L.A. to my house and a lot of times, Mackenzie came with him so we could hang out.
I push the door open to the Drug Enforcement Administration building and see her sitting at her desk. She smiles when she sees me, and I hold up the bags of food.
“Is this an apology?” she grins.
“Maybe.”
She takes one of the bags and peeks inside. “You know you don’t have to apologize. Maybe fucking the guy first and then following through with the plan is a good idea. He wouldn’t see you coming.”
“I’m not going to fuck him.”
She starts on her fries first. “I don’t know that I would blame you. He’s kind of hot. Those eyes…” her voice trails as she moans.
“Shut up. We’re not having this discussion,” I tell her. “Do you have the list for me? I’ll go by the store when I leave here.”
She hands it to me, and I shove it into my pocket, then open my bag and take out my burger. I’m two bites in when Mackenzie’s eyes grow wide.
“Harper, hurry and get back here behind the counter! Now! Get down behind the counter!”
I drop my burger and do as she says. My heart is pounding in my chest as I scoot beneath her desk, cramming myself against her legs. I hear the door chime as someone comes in.
