Resistance (The Chicago Defiance MC Series Book 1)

by K E Osborn

  I don’t sleep next to women.

  I don’t cuddle.

  I don’t get attached.

  And tonight, I’m already breaking all three of my rules.

  For her.

  For Heeley.

  I’m fucking screwed.

  TORQUE

  The sudden screeching of an alarm clock makes me raise my head and has my eyes blinking rapidly. It takes me a second to register where I am, but when I look down to see I’m still firmly wrapped around Heeley, and neither of us budged last night, a slow smile creeps up on my face. A small groan erupts from Heeley as her arm sluggishly moves out from under the covers and slams down on the alarm, turning it off. I chuckle, her body doesn’t move next to me as her arm drops down to the side of the bed like she’s falling back asleep. She’s obviously having trouble waking. I move in behind her and plant my lips on the soft skin of her neck. She tastes divine, but she doesn’t budge only gaining a slight snore from her mouth.

  I let out a small chuckle as I realize she mustn’t be a morning person. I think tough love is only going to work today. So I reach out and fling her onto her back. Her eyes finally burst wide open as I land on top of her, and she gasps for air like she’s almost forgotten I’m here. I grab her wrists and pin them either side of her head as her still half-asleep eyes look up into mine.

  “Good morning,” I tease.

  She clears her throat and licks her lips. “It was until someone woke me up.”

  I snort. “Foxy, your alarm woke you up. I’m merely helping you open your eyes.”

  Her eyes open wider as she turns her head looking at the alarm clock. “Shit. I have to get up.” Heeley moves to break free from me, but I pin her to the bed further, grinding myself into her and she looks at me, the unmistakable look of desire mixed with panic rushing through her body.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna make you late for class, but I’m also not gonna let you go. Not yet.”

  She relaxes in my grip and pouts. “Fine. What do you need?”

  Chuckling, I lean in and press my lips to hers firmly. Her body melts against mine finally, and she kisses me back as the satin of her pajama leg begins to ride up my thigh with her movement. She brings her leg up behind my ass, pulling me closer to her, and I smile against our kiss as I pin her to the bed. Slowing the kiss, I pull back and look into her still sleepy eyes.

  She smiles and lets out a long sigh. “I suppose I can cater to your needs a little longer.”

  I chuckle and shake my head. “Nope. No can do. You miss, have to go to college, and I have breakfast to make for you.”

  Her eyes blink as I lean in, plant a chaste kiss on her lips and then roll off her and out of bed. She groans as I walk to the window and yank open the curtains letting the brightness of the springtime sunshine into her room. Her arm slaps over her eyes to shield her face as she continues to groan like a feisty teenager, and I chuckle to myself as I walk out of the room into the living area to put on the coffee pot.

  “Torque,” she calls out, but I ignore her getting to work on her coffee. “Torque,” she calls out louder, and I smile taking a deep breath.

  “Yes?”

  “I hate mornings. I want to go back to bed. Come sleep with me.”

  I chuckle and put the coffee on to brew. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” I call back.

  There’s a stale silence for a moment as I move to her fridge, opening it to see nothing much of any use other than half a loaf of bread. So I pull that out to make her some toast.

  “Fuck.” Her voice calls from the bedroom as she finally registers. “It’s Monday, isn’t it?”

  Shaking my head with a roll of my eyes, I find the toaster, and I plug it into the socket. “Mm-hmm.”

  “Shit! Why can’t I fucking function in the morning? I swear to God, I know I’m a deep sleeper, but did you drug me last night or something because I slept even deeper than normal,” she grumbles as I hear her fumbling about in the other room.

  Chuckling to myself, I continue making her breakfast. The coffee’s nearly done, and I’m spreading some peanut butter on her toast as she finally drags her feet out of the bedroom. Her hair is falling around her face in messy blonde waves, her eyes are still half closed, but she’s dressed in jeans and a black shirt with the simple words on it, ‘Sorry, I’m not listening.’ Then she has the front scrunched up together in a loose knot at her stomach. The look half tomboy, half sexy as hell as I raise my brow, the butter knife in my hand stopping mid-swipe. I clear my throat taking in her fucking perfect look.

  She glances up, running her fingers through her tousled hair, and she stops mid-walk. “Are you making me breakfast?”

  I smirk, turn back to her toast and continue spreading the peanut butter. This is also to try and stop myself from getting a raging boner while only wearing boxer briefs. “Can’t go and do a full day of studying without carb loading.”

  She snorts and walks up to me. “So, carb loading is really marginally okay for endurance athletes who want to maximize their storage of glycogen. But for studying, I need a normal dose of carbohydrates because they are the body’s main source of energy and should comprise fifty to sixty percent of your total caloric intake. But most of these carbs should be eaten as beans, vegetables, fruits, and whole grains. You understand what I’m saying?” she asks, and I raise my brow with a smirk.

  “Ahhh... not really. But I have to admit you getting your doctor talk on right now, kind of has my cock getting a little hard for you.”

  Her eyes look straight at my cock in my briefs. Yeah, nothing I can do, it’s semi-hard, and a blush creeps up on her face as she clenches her eyes shut and turns around like she’s embarrassed to be here. I burst out laughing and look down at her toast slicing it into two triangles.

  “So… if you need whole grains, toast is okay for you, right?” I ask grabbing the plate and walking it over to her tiny dining table, fit for only two people. She spins back to look at me while I place it in front of her, and she looks down at the plate as I turn back to get the coffee.

  “Yeah, toast is great. Thanks, Torque… you really didn’t have to.”

  Pouring out the coffee into two mugs, I glance back to her and smile. “I know. How do you have your coffee, foxy?”

  She smiles taking a seat at the table. “Cream with sugar, please.”

  Smiling, I make her coffee, the same as mine, and then walk our mugs over to the table and sit next to her as she picks up a slice of toast and takes a bite.

  She looks at the mug and smiles. “Thank you for the coffee. I’m incoherent without the nectar of the God’s in the morning.”

  Laughing, I nod. “Really? I hadn’t noticed,” I tease, and she gives me a look of ‘get fucked.’

  I snicker under my breath as I pick up my mug and take a sip. It’s good to be sitting here sharing our breakfast together. I thought in the light of the morning, I might feel strange. Sleeping, just sleeping, next to a woman after so long is something different for me, and I thought maybe it might have brought up some feelings that scare me, but all I feel is alive. I feel reborn if that even makes sense. Sitting here in a comfortable silence, drinking coffee with Heeley, feels fucking right. And I’m pretty sure I could get used to this feeling.

  Maybe next time I sleep over, we could be naked.

  And do less of the sleeping.

  Heeley finally got her shit together, and I tailed her to campus, which was about five minutes from her place. Needless to say, we drew some attention when I pulled up beside her on my ride. I guess the University of Illinois at Chicago, School of Medicine doesn’t typically have a hell of a lot of bikers turn up. So having Heeley ride is one thing, but having a biker show up in colors, that’s entirely another.

  But she didn’t hesitate in kissing me goodbye, and I watched her walk into class. Some friends of hers rushed up to her on her way in obviously dying to catch the gossip as I sit and wait for Zane to show up. He’s a prospect and does whatever the fuck I te
ll him. He wants his patch, and I know I’m about to give him the shittiest job of them all. Tailing someone and not letting them in on it is one of the crappiest jobs for a prospect. But I need someone to do it, and Tremor is still recovering from the Andretti attack on Neala. His stab wound isn’t bad, but I don’t want him opening up his sutures if anything happens. I need someone at full strength. So, Zane, it is. Plus, he’s a little rough around the edges, and I know he’ll do anything to keep Heeley safe.

  The roar of an unmistakable Harley pulls into the parking lot, and I grin as he rides in beside me, his bike skidding to a halt. The kickstand comes out, the bike tilts to the side, and his helmet flips off his head. His scruff of hair seems messy no matter what time of day, and his eyes squint taking in the brightness of the blasting sun. He wastes no time fishing out a cigarette from his top pocket and lights it up without hesitation as he looks from me to the school and then back to me.

  “Mornin’…” The long draw on his cigarette makes the end light up red as he sucks in the tar, the smell of tobacco filling the air.

  “Zane, how was shit at the clubhouse last night. Any issues?”

  He shakes his head. “Nah. Lala was creating chaos. Making everyone run around after her until Freckles came in and calmed her crazy ass down.”

  I snort out a laugh and nod. “First of all, don’t call my sister crazy. Only Trax and I can do that.”

  “Noted.”

  “And second of all, how’d Freckles take what happened with Lala?”

  He takes another long drag of his cigarette and shakes his head. “Let’s just say her, Trax, and Surge were having a very long, loud, and lengthy discussion about it all.”

  My shoulders hunch, and I scrunch up my face. “Fuck! I better get back there then. Okay, you know the deal?” I ask.

  He nods. “Heeley Fox. Eyes on her at all times, but she doesn’t know I exist.”

  “Bingo! She’s inside at a lecture at the moment. I want you in there watching her. Sit at the back. You might have to take your cut off for this, brother. I give you permission. Do whatever you need. You might need to dress like a nerd, I don’t give a fuck. Just make it happen.”

  He nods, shrugging out of his cut and folds it up neatly placing it inside his saddlebag on his ride. “I got this, Pres. Your girl’s safe with me.”

  I double take at his choice of words ‘your girl’ but choose not to say anything. Instead, I simply nod my head and place my helmet over my head. Kicking back my stand, I turn the engine over and walk my bike backward out of the park. Zane watches me the entire way and gives me a two-fingered salute as I hammer down and speed off onto S Racine Avenue to start my ten-minute ride back to the clubhouse. I fucking dig that she lives, works, and studies all within a three-mile radius of me. It settles the protector in me knowing I can get to her quickly.

  But right now, I need to go deal with my family.

  The ride back to the clubhouse was quick, and I made the ten-minute journey in seven. Knowing Freckles, Trax, Lala, and Surge were all having discussions without me last night is doing my head in. So I hammered down as fast as I could.

  My feet hit the concrete heavy as I pound the pavement and storm through the entry to the clubhouse. It’s early, so not many of my brothers are up at nine in the morning, but a few stragglers are sitting around eating breakfast as I stride in. Sensei spots me first as he sits eating his bacon and eggs at the main table, and his eyes light up.

  “Well, good morning, Mr. President. Lovely of you to grace us with your presence.” His mocking tone makes me roll my eyes.

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  He grins grabbing a piece of crispy bacon and shoves it in his mouth. I sit down next to him and grab a slice from his plate and shove it in mine. The crack of the bacon against my teeth sends a sliver of bliss through me. “So, heard Mom is settling in fine.”

  Sensei smirks. “Hmm… Freckles is… understandably… concerned. Her need to have Neala protected is high on her priority list, and Lala is… dubious about being put on restriction.”

  Slumping into my seat, I nod. “Yeah. My sister was never one for being caged in.” Letting out a long puff of air, I turn looking toward the sleeping quarters. “Are they in their rooms?”

  He nods but places his hands in closed fists on the table letting me know he isn’t finished talking to me just yet. “Torque… I know your family is your business. I, of all people, know the importance of family above all. But Trax, he’s…” Sensei pauses, “… concerning me.”

  My brows pull together as I look at my best friend and tilt my head. “How so?”

  “His need for violence. His thirst for blood. He needs a vice, and I am not sure how we can fix that without losing him to himself.”

  The muscles in my shoulders clench, and I tilt my neck to the side cracking it with the pressure of the moment. My brother, my blood brother, is suffering, and I have no idea how to help him. Exhaling, I nod.

  Sensei bows his head, picking up another piece of bacon. “For now… go tend to the women in your family. We have time to find a way to deal with Trax.”

  “Thank you, brother, as always I value your counsel.” Reaching out, I steal the last piece of bacon on his plate, stand up, and spin heading toward the sleeping quarters. My first instinct is to head straight for Mom, but I need to check on Lala and make sure she’s okay. I know being held here against her will is something she hates, but it’s for her own good, and I know deep down she understands that.

  Walking down the hall, I step toward the rooms at the end blocked off for my family. The nicest rooms are reserved for my mom and Lala to stay in when they need them. Of course, they’re not here all the time, so often the rooms remain empty, but everyone knows these are their rooms.

  Stepping up to Lala’s, I don’t bother to knock. This is my house, my rules. As I step in, I see her in bed and I half smile knowing at least she was comfortable for the night. A head pops up from beside her I instantly recognize, and my chest tightens, along with my fists as my jaw clenches tight.

  Tremor looks directly at me, his bare chest with a bandage on it sitting up in her bed, his eyes are wide as he looks to me in horror while I pant heavy breaths.

  “Fuck,” Tremor’s low voice murmurs as he nudges Neala beside him, and she groans turning and wraps her arm around his waist in a sleepy haze. “Lala, wake up.” His harsh tone is spoken through gritted teeth as I stand in the doorway, arms folded over my chest still trying to process what I’m seeing.

  “Tremor, if you don’t have any pants on, I swear I’m gonna put a bullet right between your eyes, kid,” I grunt out.

  Neala jolts awake as she bolts upright and turns to face me. Shock is written all over her face. “Ry? What the hell are you doing in my room?” Her voice is so high pitched it kind of hurt my ears as she pulls the blanket up to cover her. This only irritates me more. I move in slamming the door shut behind me and curl up my lip.

  “Tremor, I don’t need to tell you what to do.” I don’t bother to look at him as his hand subtly runs down Lala’s arm, and then he scoots out of the bed, and I glance down to see he’s wearing briefs. A sense of relief floods through me as he rushes about the room frantically to get dressed.

  “Ry, you can’t just come in here and kick out my guests. Trem, stay. Please.”

  I scoff and glare at Tremor who looks to Neala and then to me and continues to get dressed.

  Clever boy.

  “I think your memory has fucked up, little sister, because this… this is my house. So I can come in and kick out whoever I damn well want. And you? You can’t have anyone in your room other than the club girls and Freckles. Understand?”

  She groans as Tremor pulls on his boots and heads for the door. Lala looks at him and frowns. “Tremor, if you leave, I’m going to be really upset with you,” Neala calls out.

  I turn and look at him. “Tremor, if you don’t leave, don’t expect to be gaining a patch, brother.”

  Neala lets
out an exacerbated groan as Tremor’s face falls. He looks from me to Neala, and he winces. He shakes his head, turns, and yanks open the door forcefully walking through it and slamming it shut behind him.

  “I hate you, Rylan,” Lala calls out, picking up a pillow and throwing it at me.

  With a laugh, I walk over to her bed and sit down next to her as she looks to me and folds her arms over her pulled-up knees. “I know you hate me now but being with a biker…” my brows snap together, “… you don’t want that life, Neala. I don’t want that for you. You’ve grown up in this club. You’ve seen what we do. You know what we’re capable of. You know what happens to us. You’re such a bright spark, Lala. You have so much going for you. Tremor’s a good kid, granted. He has a lot going for him. Fuck! He’d be good to you, but he’s devoted to the club first, Lala. He will always choose us first. You deserve better than that. Find a fellow interior designer, or a banker, or some other boring-as-shit guy who isn’t gonna be dangerous for you.”

  She raises her brow, pursing her lips at me. “And is that what you told, Heeley? That she needs to find someone boring, too?”

  Scrunching up my face, I turn away from her and slump my body as Neala sighs. “So, it’s okay for her to choose a guy who’s dangerous, and for her to be with someone who isn’t boring, but not me?”

  “That’s different.”

  Her eyebrow raises. “Why?”

  “Because…”

  “Yeah, you have no argument because Heeley shouldn’t be around you as much as I shouldn’t be around Tremor.”

  “Shit.” My hand runs to the back of my neck rubbing it to try and ease the tension building in it. She’s making perfect fucking sense, and I hate every damn second of it. The problem is, I know I’m bad for Heeley. But I just can’t keep away from her.

  “So, are you going to stay away from her? Or are you going to be a hypocrite and make me keep away from Tremor but lead Heeley into a world of fucking doom and chaos and eventually heartache in a life with you?”