Reprise

by C. D. Breadner

The sun was down by the time they pulled into the clubhouse lot. The lot was full of bikes and a few small SUVs, which provided an odd juxtaposition for who she already knew would be inside the clubhouse. Bikes and family vehicles.

  Again he held her hand, tugging her a bit closer as they got to the door. As he grabbed the handle Tiny kissed her quickly. Before she could ask why he did that he opened the door and they walked into...

  Madness. Absolute madness.

  There was loud Christmas music playing. Voices were raised, people were shouting and laughing. There were kids running around, too—Libby and Jayce Junior were the only two she eventually recognized.

  “Merry Christmas, Mal!” Fritter came running up to them, nearly manically happy, a headband with some kind of dangly on it, hanging right in front of his forehead. Too late she recognized it as mistletoe, and then he was suddenly laying a loud kiss on her mouth—mostly to the side, to be honest—before he grabbed Harlon to do the same to him.

  Well, he tried. But Harlon showed him hard enough to detach and Fritter just grinned, flicking the mistletoe with a grin. “Aren’t these great?”

  Harlon frowned, then brought Mal to his side. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, wiping her face. “He kinda missed my mouth. Mostly.”

  “Where’s Sharon? Shouldn’t you be using that mistletoe on her?”

  Fritter turned to survey the room. “Where is my woman? She was putting shit on the tree with Adeel.”

  “Go find her,” he growled inelegantly, then steered Mal into the building.

  The place was warm, and even if it was a biker hangout she felt totally underdressed. Everyone else looked really nice, even the kids were wearing their Sunday duds.

  “I’m not wearing the right thing,” she muttered, turning to Harlon.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Look at how I’m dressed. I should be washing windows.”

  He smiled, kissed her again, and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Mal.”

  Maybe it was silly. After all, she’d been kidnapped. And he’d forgotten about the event himself, but then they stopped so he could pull on his leather vest like the one the others were wearing and she realized they dressed the same all the time.

  “Look at this figure. I’d know you anywhere, Mal.”

  Arms from behind her wrapped her up in a big hug, and she gave a squeak as she was lifted off her feet.

  “Put her down,” Harlon grumbled and she was set back on her feet. She whirled on her attacker, and it turned out to be Knuckles. He was wearing one of those ridiculous mistletoe headbands, too, and he grabbed her before she could avoid him. His kiss was square on the mouth but definitely chaste. When he released her she was laughing, even though Harlon shoved his shoulder.

  “Fuck off with that. I’m done with everyone kissing my woman.”

  Knuckles grinned. “Don’t be jealous. It’s not like I gave her any tongue.”

  “Thank God,” she mumbled as Harlon put an arm around her shoulders again.

  “Babe, you wouldn’t be able to handle it,” Knuckles promised in all seriousness.

  “Go grab an available woman and leave us alone,” Harlon suggested.

  “I just had an idea.” Knuckles removed the headband from his temples and tucked it down the front of his pants so the mistletoe was hanging in front of his fly. Then he waggled his eyebrows.

  “Fucking grow up,” Harlon groused, but even that sounded like he was laughing. “There’s kids around.”

  Knuckles moved the headband to its appropriate place. “You’re right. But later...” Then he was off with a wink.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be helping with all this?” she asked the man holding onto her like she was expensive property.

  “I guess,” he sighed, stretching to look around over the heads of a mostly cramped room.

  “Who are all these people?” she had to ask. The faces she recognized from the funeral made up maybe a tenth of the attendants.

  “Friends, hang arounds and their families. We have them all over for the decorating party, then for a dinner on Christmas Eve, too.”

  “That’s really cool.”

  “Yeah. Then on Christmas Day we have a supper at the soup kitchen.”

  She turned in surprise. “Really?”

  Harlon frowned. “Yeah. Why?”

  “You do a Christmas supper at the soup kitchen.”

  “We don’t do soup, though. The old ladies cook turkey and ham and more potatoes than you’ve ever seen before, and we do up a bunch of platters of everything to take to a hall on the other side of town.”

  Without knowing why, she stretched up on her toes and placed a kiss to his lips.

  “What was that for?”

  “Because you guys do nice things for people.”

  His hands grabbed her hips, holding her close. Her pulse spiked, even in this room full of people. “That does it for you, does it?”

  “Totally.”

  “You’re going to love this part, then.”

  “What?”

  “Tomorrow’s the toy run to the children’s hospital in Bakersfield.”

  Her hands tightened on his arms. “A toy run to the children’s hospital?”

  “We load the bikes up with as much as they can carry, a truck takes the rest. And we drive out at ten tomorrow.”

  She closed her eyes and rested her forehead on his chest, feeling his chuckle.

  “Wow. You really like that, huh?”

  “I do.” She wrapped her arms around him. “Can I come tomorrow?”

  “I’d love to have you on my bike, babe.”

  Harlon had a bike back when they first got together, but she’d only ridden a couple times with him. It had been fun at the time, but now she was suddenly and inexplicably excited at the thought of wrapping her arms around him and hitting the open road.

  “What do we have to do now?” she asked, sighing as his arms gave her another squeeze.

  “I think we should sit down and relax.”

  “We’ve been sitting for hours.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  She smiled and surveyed the room. “Well, shouldn’t we help or something?”

  “I think they have a handle on it.”

  She laughed and stepped out of his hold. “I’ll go see if anyone needs help. You can relax—”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Yeah, I do.” She closed her eyes as he kissed her forehead then let her go.

  “I’m going to go find a beer then,” he grumbled, swatting at her ass as he made for the bar.

  With an instinct for the obvious Mal went looking for a knot of the women she recognized, finding them huddled around a short but very fat tree in a corner of the room. Space was made for it by the rearranging of a few ragged sofas, she could tell by how they were clustered up and facing each other.

  This close she could smell the green of the tree, and all of a sudden it was lit up with a few hundred twinkling lights of all colors. There was a smattering of applause, and when Gertie caught sight of her the redhead’s face broke into a wide grin. “Mal! He brought you here!” Then she was consumed in a warm and friendly hug that she had not been expecting.

  She patted the woman’s back in return, smiling from surprise. “Hi,” she said, giving Rose and Trinny a short wave as Gertie stepped back.

  “We just got these new ornaments so the kids aren’t allowed to put them up yet,” Trinny was explaining, holding up two round and shiny Christmas balls in deep jewel tones. “And neither are the men.”

  “It’s just better this way.” Gertie picked up a box holding six deep aquamarine balls and handed them to Mallory. “Go ahead and get in there.”

  Mal was still smiling as she stepped up to the tree, first ornament ready for placement. She hadn’t set up a real tree in years.

  “And who the hell is this now?”

  The voice was sardonic and downright acidic. Mal turned in surprise, fin
ding a brunette right behind her, arms crossed.

  Both of her exposed arms bore bright, colorful ink from wrist to shoulder. Her dark hair was twisted up into an old school red and white kerchief, and her make-up was vintage. Bright red lipstick, light blue shadow, dark liner with thick lashes. A cool look. Her sleeveless shirt was red and white gingham, tied at the stomach. Her jeans didn’t quite reach her ankles. She was both cute and beautiful, except for the look of distaste on her face.

  Mallory found herself unable to answer in the face of such obvious dislike. It completely shocked her silent.

  “Jolene, this is Tiny’s friend from Colorado, Mallory. Mal, this is Jolene, our friend.”

  Mallory held out her hand. “Hi. Nice to meet you, Jolene.”

  Jolene blinked, and her eyes seemed a bit hazy.

  “Jolene, come on. Don’t be a bitch.”

  Trinny’s command was yet another surprise, and Mallory turned to the blonde. “She wasn’t...I mean...”

  Trinny leveled her California girl blue eyes at Jolene, her expression not amused. “Mallory and Tiny go way back. She’s not fresh snatch here to steal anyone’s place. She’s owned the place she has for years.”

  What a fucking confusing statement. But Mallory was focused on Jolene, and the snarl of her upper lip eventually smoothed out. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, and it didn’t sound sincere but Mallory nodded to accept it anyway. “I’m not really good company for anyone. Welcome to Markham.” Then she turned on a heel and disappeared into the holiday swarm.

  “Sorry about her,” Gertie said quietly, eyes on the spot where Jolene had merged with everyone else. “Her husband passed away earlier this year. From what I understand, he really liked Christmas. She’s having trouble.”

  “God, that’s awful.” Mallory turned back to the other women. “Was he...with the group?”

  “Yeah, he was club.” Trinny answered, hanging a golden ornament on the tree. “Way before his time.”

  They continued to deck the tree until damn near every bough sported a globe in forest green, maroon, gold, deep blue, or purple. With just the ornaments and lights the tree was well dressed, and they gathered all the boxes that the glass had been packaged in. It was slipped into a larger box that fit the entire load and Gertie carried it off for storage.

  “I guess we should call for supper,” Trinny muttered, pulling a phone out of her pocket. “In a few minutes they’ll be grumbling for food.”

  “Are you...are you, like, in charge here?” Mallory had to ask. If she’d thought before opening her mouth she likely would have told herself to just shut up.

  Trinny smiled, to Mal’s relief. “My husband is the president of the club. As long as he keeps refusing to divorce me, I’m an old lady just like Gertie, Rose, Sharon and Jolene.”

  Mal frowned. “Divorce? Really?”

  Trinny’s smile lost most of its strength. “We had a bad patch almost two years ago. I have to think of my kids, and when we’re here we’re not entirely safe.”

  Mallory looked over the room again, her eyes easily picking out the men in matching leather wherever they sat, conversed, laughed and drank in the crowd. She’d been terrified when that man had been in her apartment, and ever more so when the van had come under fire. She still hadn’t felt entirely at ease with those bikers in Montrose. But with Harlon she felt absolutely untouchable. She felt safe from anything...other than what he might do to her heart.

  She couldn’t imagine not feeling safe in this group.

  “There’s violence in this life,” Trinny told her in all seriousness. “And these guys may be hard to hurt but they’re mortal. They stick together and they’ll do anything for each other, that comes first. Always will. Anyone else in their lives is just open for collateral damage.”

  Mallory had no answer as Trinny turned away and gathered up the plastic garbage bags that had held all the trappings that had been dispensed all over the room. Gertie had wandered over to her husband, and Buck pulled her into his hold while he sat on a barstool, her back to his chest. She accepted a kiss on the cheek from Knuckles before he went bounding off into the room, catching a younger man wearing the same vest in a headlock and rubbing his knuckles on the kid’s scalp.

  Loud and rough, sure. But this had all the appearance of a family gathering leading up to the holidays.

  She shoved her hands into the front pocket of Harlon’s hoodie and started off through the crowd to find the man that brought her. Which wasn’t as easy to do as it would be anywhere else.

  Turned out he was leaning against a pool table, legs crossed at the heel, beer bottle resting on one thigh. He was laughing at something the man next to him had just said, they both had their heads flung back, mouths open, laughter roaring out from both throats. The other man was just slightly shorter than Harlon but still broad, his gnarled hair and bushy beard a fiery brand of copper. As she approached Harlon caught sight of her, his smile changing to a different kind of happy as she approached.

  Yeah, she remembered that look, too.

  He held up his free hand and she tucked herself under his arm, hand on his stomach. The other man lost the laugh, but not the twinkle in his blue eyes as he took another pull on his beer. Unlike other moments in her life, his eyes did not slither down over her form, nor did he try to check out her ass. He was all about the polite curiosity.

  “This is Mallory,” Harlon said, smiling down at her and tugging on her braid. “Mal, this bastard is called Rusty.”

  “Hi Rusty,” she said amiably, offering a hand.

  The man grinned and took it, not really shaking, just holding. “Ma’am,” he said, his voice just as gruff as Harlon’s. His touch was light, then he let her hand go. She never would have expected gentleness from someone with his demeanor. “Nice to meet you,” he said, then took another drink.

  She found herself grinning at the manners, but before a smart ass comment could make an appearance Harlon was squeezing her and saying, “I think we need to find a quiet corner for a bit.”

  She gasped at the obvious implication and Rusty laughed. “Roger that,” he muttered, then Harlon was pulling her back through the crowd and out the front door.

  “Why did you say that?” she hissed as he led her, not to his truck, but to a two-level building that looked like a motel.

  “Because it’s true.”

  “Isn’t it rude to just leave a party?”

  He laughed now, turning to face her. “Honey, come on.”

  “What?”

  “You think you can come looking for me, give me that smile and I’m gonna politely wait around for everyone to start saying goodnight?”

  “What smile?”

  He stepped into her space and put a hand to her cheek. She stopped all thought, couldn’t even remember what they’d just been talking about. “My smile,” was his puzzle of an answer. “That’s the smile only I get when you pick me out in a room, or on the street, or when you first wake up.”

  “I have a smile just for you?”

  “Yeah, you do,” he said softly, fingertips stroking along the nape of her neck now. “It also makes me hard. So that’s why we’re going somewhere private.”

  Her body clenched at that and her breath had to come through her mouth. “Oh,” she said, as if that explained everything. Then he turned, tugging her behind him towards the motel-looking place.

  “Is this a motel?” she finally asked.

  “The other side is. These are our dorms.”

  They both ascended a metal and concrete staircase to the second level, and on the far end of the walkway he stopped at a door, pulled out his keys and then they were in the room.

  A light was flicked on, a domed shade that hung on a chain over a bedside table that was made for motels. Actually, all the furniture was related to the furniture of any motel she’d ever stayed in. The bedding, tousled as it was, looked more domestic. And the posters on the walls, the shit strewn all over pretty much guaranteed that someone lived here.
<
br />   “What do you think?”

  She turned back to him as he shut them in, clipping that patented hotel lock in place. The snapping sound also made something in her body warm, then he was prowling towards her.

  “It’s...nice,” she managed to answer before he was kissing her, reeling her into his body tight and taking ownership of her entire body with his mouth.

  The party was forgotten, the conversation she’d had with Trinny, ditto. He pulled at the bottom of his hoodie and she held her arms over her head so he could yank it off. Then his hands were under the hem of her T-shirt, sliding over her bare skin, making her shiver. His rings were that much colder, giving quite a thrill.

  They didn’t fall into bed until they were both naked. Mal was again left to wonder at the intensity of his passion, how he was just as furious and all over her as he always had been. He blanketed her with his hands, his mouth, his heavy body. She clung to him just as desperately, and when her hands got in his way he’d just press them to the mattress over her head.

  When he slid into her she sighed, eyes closing, mouth open to try and catch her breath. But when she was full of him he stopped, breathing as labored as hers was. She opened her eyes, and he was staring down into her face.

  “What?” she whispered.

  He smiled slowly again. “Just watching you. Christ, you’re still so gorgeous.”

  She had to smile, too. “You’re pretty well maintained, too.”

  “Well maintained?” He took his cock away, then fed it back harder. She groaned. “Fuck, Mal. Still so hot.”

  Then he was done talking, thank God.

  His hard body churned into her, her legs wrapped around his waist because that’s the only spot he allowed them to be. His knees came up almost to her ass, locking her in place. Each thrust was hard, moving her on the mattress, and the bounce meant she was already working against him on his next thrust. Which is how they ended up with their heads right at the headboard.

  They both started laughing, but then before she knew it she was on her stomach, hips tilted up, and he was back inside of her just as roughly as before. He forced her hands up to the headboard, wrapping her fingers around the edge. Then he rode her through one mind-blowing orgasm before collapsing with a grunt on her back.