Would my father go to such an extreme to keep me in the club? With two felonies on my record no one was going to hire me. But that was ridiculous; my father couldn’t have controlled the cops pulling us over and searching the bikes. Could he?
That didn’t mean that he didn’t set me up though. Maybe I was like what Buster said, the guy who was carrying just in case they got stopped. I looked at Buster and saw what the rest of my life was going to be like. I suddenly saw red.
I looked across the room at my dad. He was talking to Bo and his old lady. Bo had a kid named Mickey who was about twelve. He hung around the club a lot and Bo’s old lady didn’t quite seem smart enough to protect her son from this life. She seemed happy as could be to be standing with her old man. In twenty years that would be Mickey and his boy would be playing in the back. It was a vicious cycle, one that I had tried to break.
Did my dad use this set up to drag me in against my will? I needed to find out. Whoever did it was going to get the payback they deserved.
“Hey, Buster, who do you think set me up?”
Buster glanced across the room at my dad and said, “I didn’t live to be this old by answering questions like that, kid, sorry.” I knew better than to push it. That was all he was going to say.
I finished my game with Buster and mingled a bit. It was actually kind of nice to see people I hadn’t seen in a long time. None of them were exactly upstanding citizens, but they weren’t all bad either. Some of them worked hard and played hard and some of them found themselves victims of circumstances they couldn’t break free from. I wasn’t normally one to judge, unless of course you set your own son up to take your fall.
I hung around until I saw my dad, Blake and Bo go out to where the pool tables were. There was always someone hanging around the clubhouse, day and night. This might be my one and only chance, so I took it. There were two ways into the clubhouse. I never asked outright, but I’m sure they planned it that way in the event of a raid. There was a door in the kitchen that connected to the hallway where my father and his friends proudly displayed the patches they had taken from other members over the years.
I let myself in through that door and stood quietly for a second listening to make sure no one was back there. I didn’t hear anything so I moved down past the meeting room which was a small room with a big table where their decisions were voted on and club members were made or broken.
I stopped at the next small room. My dad’s private office. He never locked it; none of his guys would dare cross him. I honestly had no idea what he was capable of if he was crossed, but the fear of God in the eyes of his crew when he was pissed was enough to tell me that they did fear him.
I trudged in and moved over to the desk and slid open one of the file drawers. They were all neat and labeled, part of my father’s control freak personality. They were all labeled legitimate business things like invoices, receipts and tax documents. You would think I was in the back room of a legal establishment.
I opened a few other things and didn’t find anything, but I did notice that he was still logged on to his computer. I went back over to the door and looked down the hall to make sure I was still alone. I was shaking a little bit, again wondering what he might do if he caught me in there. There was no one out there. So far, so good. Sitting down in his chair I pulled up his email. I scrolled through a few of the newer ones and realized that unless it was from a legitimate business contact, they were written short and curt.
Things like, “We’re on for Friday,” or “Things at the warehouse are set.” It wouldn’t be enough to charge him with anything, let alone convict him if the authorities ever seized his computer. Once again, good thing he was smart. Some crooks think you can just delete emails that may get you into trouble later on. They aren’t smart enough to realize that if you don’t scrub the hard drive and email server, they are never really gone.
I typed in 2011 and hit search mail and it pulled up the emails from that year. As I scrolled through I realized there were a lot of back and forth e-mails between him and Terrance. That was odd. Terrance was my age, which meant he would have been just over eighteen at the time. What did my dad and he have to talk about so often? The emails didn’t make sense to me. They knew what they were talking about I guessed, so some of them were only one or two words. I did find one from Terrance to my dad that interested me. The date was September 6, 2011. It was the day before I was busted on the side of the road with a lot of heroin that wasn’t mine.
I opened that one up and read, “Everything is set up and ready to go.”
What the hell did that mean? Was Terrance part of setting me up too? Shit! I heard a floorboard squeak. I hit the “x” in the corner. I prayed that when my dad logged back on it would bring up his current e-mail and not the ones I’d just been looking at. I leaned back in the big leather chair just as my dad stuck his head in the door.
“There you are. What are you doing?”
“I just needed a minute to myself. Sorry, I hope you don’t mind that I was hiding out in here.”
He shrugged and said, “I guess you kind of get used to the solitude in the joint, huh? All this is a little overwhelming when you first come out.”
“Yeah, a lot, actually,” I told him. “Did you ever do time? I mean, I know you did a few stints in county when I was a kid, but have you ever been in prison?”
He dropped down into the chair on the other side of the desk and after he lit his cigarette he said, “Yeah, once. I was twenty-four. I spent six years in Folsom. When I came out your mama and I got married and a year later, you came along.”
“Six years? What did you do?” I hadn’t meant to put it that way, it had just come out.
“I didn’t do nothing,” he said with a grin. Every so often it was apparent to me how my father was able to charm so many people into doing pretty much anything he wanted them to do. Looking at him with this boyish grin was one of those times.
“What did they say you did?”
“They said I shot a cop, but I really didn’t do it. I was at a party, things got out of hand and the cops raided the place. People started shooting and a cop took one in the shoulder. I was hauling ass out of there at the time, but the hog took a spill at the end of the road and all of a sudden there was cops everywhere, guns and lights shining down in my face. I was drunk and maybe a little high. I puked all over them, which pissed them off and suddenly I was Public Enemy number one. They beat the crap outta me before they took me in. They were allowed to do that back then it seemed like. It’s not like that now as you know. There were no worries then that someone with a smart phone was going to be recording the whole thing. Anyways, they had to pin that on someone, it was a cop. Cops will hunt down justice for one of their own like dogs. Good for me that he lived I guess or I’da been on death row at San Quentin and you would have never been born.”
“What kind of evidence did they have?” I, of all people, should know that you didn’t have to be guilty for them to convict you, but if everyone was running, wouldn’t they have had to have something at least a little bit concrete on him to hold him?
“They didn’t have shit. I was part of a motorcycle club and they found the gun down the street from where they found me, wiped clean. They weren’t even able to trace it back to me. They railroaded me and I did my time. I came out a lot smarter, like you, I’m guessing.”
I made a note to myself to look it up later and see what the real story was. What my dad told me was usually somewhere between a lie and the whole truth. I was a hair away from asking him. Did you set me up, Dad? Would my own father do that to me? All of a sudden Bo was hollering down the hall at him.
He looked at me and said, “Come on, let’s go whip some ass on the dartboard, you’re on my team.”
I stood up and he put his arm around me in a half-assed hug. That was the second one in a week. For most people that wouldn’t have been a big deal. For us, it was huge. It left me torn between feeling guilty for accusing him and
feeling pissed that he was such a manipulative son of a bitch.
Chapter Six
Olivia
The party was winding down and there were only a handful of people left when Terrance caught me watching Dax shoot darts with his dad. He didn’t say anything, but I could see by the look on his face that he wasn’t happy about it. I played it off like I was just surprised that Dax and Bull seemed to be getting along so well; however I thought he could sense how I felt. Dax hadn’t said one word to us all night. He acted like we were invisible. I felt like a Jezebel.
“I have to get going pretty quick,” Terrance said.
“Why?”
“I have to run those parts up to Fresno for Bull tonight, remember?”
“No, I thought you were going in the morning. Why do you have to go tonight? The shop’s not even open at this time of night.”
“It’ll take me two hours to get there. Bull wants me there as soon as they open which is at eight a.m. I don’t want to have to drag myself outta bed at five in the morning to get on the road by six. It’ll be easier if I just go tonight.”
“So you’re staying in a Motel tonight?”
“Nah, I’m staying with a friend of Bull’s who lives close to the shop. I’ll be home before noon tomorrow, okay?”
“What friend? It doesn’t worry you to just go stay at someone’s home that you don’t even know?”
“No, Bull set it up. He wouldn’t send me somewhere that wasn’t safe.”
“You’re sure about that?” I asked him.
“Yeah, I’m sure. What’s your problem with Bull all of a sudden?”
“It’s not all of a sudden. The guy has always bothered me. Even when—”
“Even when what? Even when you were with Dax?”
“Yeah,” I said, “even then.”
“I’m sure that had more to do with how Dax felt about him. He’s always thought he was better than his dad. Better than all of us, really.”
“I’ve never heard you talk about him like that before.”
Terrance shrugged. “I guess it just never came up before. Anyways, I really have to go tonight. Okay?”
“Okay,” I said.
What was I going to say? It was his job…I guessed. Dax was right though. I might need to put a little more thought into all of this than I had so far. I took what people told me at face value. I’m not stupid, but I was too trusting sometimes. Seriously, who has to take parts to a shop two hours away in the middle of the night and then stay at some stranger’s house? By anyone’s standards, that was just strange.
“I’m going to say goodnight to Dax,” he said.
I raised an eyebrow but I didn’t say anything. I never told him about my talk with Dax. As far as he knew, he and I hadn’t spoken since he had been home. Terrance was taking a chance approaching him again after the first night. Dax made it clear that he no longer thought of him as a friend. I hoped Dax hadn’t had so much to drink that a fight might sound like a good idea. Terrance was a big guy, but somehow I still thought Dax would have the advantage.
I watched as he went over and I heard him say, “Hey, Dax, I have to get going. It’s good to have you back, man.”
Dax stared at him for the longest time and I could almost see a fire smoldering behind his sexy green eyes.
He proved once more that he had more self-control than the rest of them by finally saying, “Yeah, it’s good to be back, thanks.”
That seemed to make Terrance happy, even though Dax turned his back on him before he had even walked away. He had been looking for just a bit of acknowledgement and he had gotten it. I felt bad for Terrance; he had literally lost his best friend. I was glad that Dax at least spoke to him a bit because sometimes I’m not convinced that I’m prized enough to compensate for that.
“Are you ready?” Terrance asked me.
I saw Dax’s mom near the bar with a broom. I had met Terrance there, so I had my car.
“I think I’m going to stay and help Gail clean up if you don’t mind. It’ll beat sitting home alone.”
He leaned down to kiss me on the forehead and God help me I caught Dax looking at us out of the corner of my eye. I just gave him a quick peck and I could tell by the look on his face that he was confused once again. I watched him go out the doors and I quickly felt like shit. I ran after him and caught him just as he was about to fire up his bike.
“Hey, wait!”
“What’s up?”
“I’m sorry. This whole situation…it just makes me a little tense.” Terrance didn’t have to ask what situation I was referring to.
“I know; me too,” he said, wrapping me in a hug. His embrace always made me feel safe. It had never set me on fire the way that Dax’s used to. It was better than nothing.
“Be safe, okay?” I told him. “Please don’t be doing anything illegal and please don’t go to jail.” I pointed my finger at him.
“Always,” he said with a grin. I stood and watched him go, wishing that I could feel for him the way that I did for Dax. It would make things so much easier.
When I got back inside I found Gail and asked her what she needed me to help with. She and Cookie were loading her SUV with pots and containers full of food. Bull and the other guys weren’t helping a bit, of course.
“Can you finish sweeping up for me, honey? That would be a big help, that way I can go ahead and get all of this food home before it goes bad.”
“Sure,” I told her.
“Thanks, you’re a doll.”
I could always tell by the way Gail looked at me that she was sad Dax and I weren’t still together. She had high hopes for her son and she did everything right by him…except getting him far away from his father. That was probably her one mistake. Gail was pure class and Bull was a toad.
I went and found the broom I had seen her using earlier and started sweeping the dance floor. The guys had all gone out back, I guessed. I was the only one in the room and I pushed the broom to the beat of the music playing. It was something country or other, but it had a good beat to it.
I was lost in my thoughts when all of a sudden the music stopped mid-song. I looked over and Dax was standing by the CD player with his back to me. I leaned against the broom and watched him, wondering what he was doing. Suddenly, Bruno Mars filled the room and “Just The Way You Are” was shooting an arrow straight through my already fragile heart. Dax turned around and looked at me and grinned. What was left of my heart fell down into my stomach.
I smiled back, nervously, wondering what the hell he was doing.
I went back to sweeping, hoping that if I ignored him, he would go away. Did I want him to go away? No, not really, but I needed him to. I was trying to block out the song, the one that Dax used to sing to me when we danced together. I could feel him next to me before I looked up and saw him.
“Remember this?” he asked, like there was any possibility I could have forgotten. I fell in love with him to this song.
“Yeah,” I said, still sweeping, trying to seem casual about it.
“Not just the song,” he said. “The tape. I found it earlier when I was looking for a CD. I didn’t even know I still had it.” I kept on sweeping. “Do you still have your copy?”
I stopped sweeping and looked at him. Mistake. He was too close and he smelled so good and he looked so hot. I. Couldn’t. Breathe.
“Yeah,” I said finally. “I still have it.”
He was talking about a mix tape that we made together. I picked out most of the songs on it, songs that mostly said all of the things I was feeling about him but I was too young to be able to put into eloquent words. He had picked this one out—Bruno Mars. He used to sing it to me and it would set my heart on fire. To this day I couldn’t hear it on the radio without tearing up like I was starting to do. I put my head down and started to sweep away when I felt him grab me. It startled me and I shrieked.
“What are you doing?”
“Dance with me,” he said. I laughed and he pulled me clo
ser. The broom dropped out of my hand and clattered to the floor.
“No, Dax, this isn’t a good—” He pulled me up against his hard body and the “idea” part of that objection came out a little weak. “Dax,” I said, breathless at this point.
“Dance with me, Olivia,” he said again just before he pulled me in a little closer, so close that room air couldn’t pass between us.
We moved to the beat and there was a part of me that wanted to pull away and another part that felt like I was back where I belonged. Sometimes things like this happen and as much as you want your brain and your heart to choose the right choice, you can't always control it.
His hand ran down my back, stopping just above my ass. He firmly pushed me against him so that nothing would be able to come between us. I breathed in his wonderful cologne that reminded me of our time together before he became a felon.
“I missed this,” he whispered into my ear. “I missed you. I was sitting in that prison cell for two years thinking about you.”
I didn't know what to say to him. I only thought about him at first, but once Terrance and I had got together it blocked Dax out of my mind. I lay my head on his shoulder and he rested the side of his face on my head as we continued to dance.
“Look at me, Liv,” he said softly.
I was scared to look at him. Every time I did my body just wanted to give in to him. His hand reached up and tipped my chin up and over so that I was staring into his eyes. They were filled with desire.
His head tipped down and his lips met mine. I could taste the beer on his lips and I wondered if he knew what he was doing or if he was too drunk to know. I had to wonder if this was revenge toward Terrance too.
Thinking Terrance’s name snapped me back into reality once more. Pulling back a little I said, “We can’t do this.” I heard my own voice and it didn’t sound convincing at all.
God, I wanted to kiss him so bad. We were so close and he was holding me so tight that I could actually feel his heart hammering against me. Or was that my own? I really couldn’t tell. I knew either way this was dangerous and I tried to wriggle free just before he kissed me again. This time I felt his tongue snake between my lips and instead of fighting it, I parted them to let him in.
Dirty Biker (An MC Motorcycle Romance) (The Maxwell Family) Page 71
