by Debra Kayn
Dukie rubbed his forearm across his nose. "Prez-Uncle-Battery promised me a dirt bike when I'm eight. How many more years is that?"
"Three." She grinned, loving when he showed respect to Battery by putting all his titles before his name.
Dukie stood and kicked the pavement. "That's a long time."
Not long enough. She combed her fingers through her son's hair. He needed to get a haircut, or he'd be looking like a biker before his time. The longer his blond hair grew, the bigger his cowlicks in the front and the back made him appear as an unruly, unparented child. She sighed. He also looked so much like his father, her heart exploded every time she caught him being all-boy wanting to grow up too fast.
"Can I have a pair of boots?" Dukie's thoughts shifted as fast as his mother's.
She laughed softly. "What kind of boots would you want?"
"Black ones with long laces." Dukie made a zigzag pattern in the air with his finger. "They stomp and are heavy."
Allison's car pulled into the lot. Raelyn grabbed Dukie's hand and led him to the backseat, glad to have his attention diverted from wishing away his childhood. Buckling him into the booster, she thanked the babysitter, then stood back and waved until her son was out of sight.
She hugged the small duffle bag to her chest. There would come a time when Dukie would move up to a dirt bike. His connection with Ronacks would drive the love of riding into him, and after he turned sixteen, he'd graduate to a street bike even though she'd put up a good fight against him riding. Then, he'd prospect for the club. Then, he'd become a lifer.
The loyalty and love for the lifestyle were even deeper ingrained than a mother's love. There would come a time when she'd need to step back and love her son from afar and go to bed every night praying for his safety. But, she wouldn't love her son less, only more, because love grew and never stopped, despite the decisions Dukie would someday make.
"Oh, God," she whispered, closing her eyes. "What have I done?"
Her legs shook radiating tremors to her upper body. She stumbled back to the door of the bar, hugging the bag, and blinking furiously to stop the tears. Sliding her back against the glass, she sunk to her ass and let herself cry for her stupidity.
She would never stop loving Dukie during her lifetime. Her love was unconditional. She had also loved Duke with all her heart when he was alive, never worrying about tomorrow and cherishing each day with him. She never regretted her marriage to Duke. Not for one second.
In her fear of losing someone she loved, she'd put conditions on her and Mel's relationship. Unfair ones that would destroy Mel's happiness, and in return would make her miserable.
She buried her face in the duffle. When had she become the judgmental, scared, bitter kind of woman she disliked?
Her sobs calmed, and she lifted her head. Exhaling a calming breath that failed to reach the level she needed to stand, she stared out at the empty parking lot. Mel had taken off early. The sun hadn't even broken over the Bitterroot Mountains when the rumble of his motorcycle woke her. Right now, he waited at the clubhouse for her to come ruin his life, and ruin hers, and ruin Dukie's by throwing him away and out of her life.
Everything about Mel was different than what she'd ever experienced.
When she'd married Duke, she believed true love came once in a lifetime. He'd been her husband, and she wanted their love to last forever. But, she'd lost him, and over the years, she'd had one lesson after another knock her on her ass, until she no longer believed that a person only loved once.
There were many kinds of love, each different, each just as deep, each all-consuming. She let her head fall back against the door. Every muscle in her body called defeat, and she sat there unable to argue with herself any longer.
Her hopes and dreams hadn't died with Duke. New ones had come and evolved with the changes in her.
She loved Mel and was miserable without him. If the old adage that it was better to have loved and lost than to have never loved before was true, then maybe she needed to put on her black leather boots and kick ass to make sure she never wasted a day living in regret.
The surface behind her disappeared. She caught herself from falling backward.
"What are you doing sitting outside?" asked her mom from behind her.
Raelyn patted the ground beside her. "Sit down, mom."
"I'm not going to sit on the dirty—"
"Please?" She peered over her shoulder.
Her mom's face softened, and she stepped outside and holding on to Raelyn's shoulder, lowered herself to the ground with an oomph. "What's wrong, honey?"
"Nothing." Raelyn looped her arm with her mother's and leaned against her. "Maybe for the first time in a long, long time, everything is right."
"That sounds...promising." Her mom patted Raelyn's hand. "Do you want to talk about what turned you into a deep thinker?"
Raelyn laughed, and the healing power of having her mom at her side lightened the dark thoughts threatening to overwhelm her. "I'm not sure I'm ready for one of your flowery talks about loving myself and turning the other cheek."
"Ah, the fallback advice I'd give you when I really wanted to slap the little girl or boy who hurt your feelings." Her mom smiled with a contented sigh.
If only she could have her mom fix her problems, but she was on her own. She had Dukie to think about now, too, making decisions harder and more complicated.
"Tell me, how did you go on to marry other men after my dad left you? Weren't you scared of being left?" Raelyn bent her legs and put her feet close to her butt.
"I've been married five times. Each one wonderful and bad for me."
"I know, but how did you stop worrying if you made the right choice or not," Raelyn asked.
Her mom shrugged. "If you worry, will the future change?"
She stared out at the parking lot, needing to think about that question.
With Mel, when they were together, he made everything better. She was happier. Excitement filled the moments between work and pleasure. Even when he wasn't with her, she looked forward to being with him. He was a protector, a lover, a friend. Most of all she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, loving him, being with him.
"No," whispered Raelyn. "There's no amount of worry that'll stop fate."
"You're a smart woman." Her mom leaned over and kissed her temple. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
"Prove it." Her mom held out her arm. "Help me off the ground. I need to go pick up your Grandma June from the senior center."
She pushed to her feet, pulled her mom off the ground, and brushed off the back of her shorts. "What's Grandma June doing there so early? I thought Pinochle started at three o'clock."
"Apparently, a group of them gather every morning over coffee." Her mom opened the door and pinched her thumb and finger together putting it in front of her lips. "Yesterday, I caught three of them standing behind the senior center sharing a joint."
"She's smoking weed with old people?" Raelyn picked up Dukie's duffle to carry it into the office. "I don't think I want to know anything more."
"When it concerns your Grandma June, that's smart. Though, it does help her arthritis." Her mom laughed, walking ahead of her.
Raelyn locked the door and set the alarm. Before she reached the office, her phone vibrated. She pulled the cell out of her pocket and read.
Mel: Where are you? The guys are waiting at the clubhouse for you.
Without a second guessing herself, she put her phone back in her pocket without answering and headed inside to get the bar ready for opening. She wasn't going to the clubhouse. She'd changed her mind.
Chapter Twenty Three
Brady turned over the hamburgers on the grill and sprayed water on the fire. Mel walked through the smoke cloud, pushed through the back door of Pine Bar & Grill, stalked down the hallway, and stood in the bar. Sweat broke out on his forehead, and he searched the room for Raelyn. He'd texted twice and called three times with no answer.
Raelyn pushed through the swinging doors coming from the kitchen. He made it across the room in three strides, grabbed her arms and practically picked her feet off the floor when he took her back into the kitchen.
He took in everything about her. The smoothness across her forehead where tension used to line. The stray strands of hair coming out of her ponytail she ignored when usually she made sure all of her hair was pulled back when she worked. The interest in her eyes when the last time he saw her she had a face full of sadness. He glared down at her over the changes. "Why the hell aren't you answering your phone?"
She rubbed her arms where he'd grabbed her. "I'm working."
"You weren't earlier." He wiped his arm across his forehead. "You were supposed to be at the clubhouse this morning after Dukie left for camp. You never showed and you damn well ignored my calls. Why?"
"Sorry if I worried you." She raised her shoulders. "Something came up."
"What?"
She glanced over at Peggy, who was taking an interest in their conversation and said, "Well, Dukie wanted to work on his bike, and that meant dragging out his duffle you put together for him. Then when he left for camp, I started talking with my mom. Afterward, it was time to do the pre-work meeting with the employees, and then I decided to go to the office and clean off my desk."
His pulse roared at the mention of her desk. The first time they'd had sex was on top of that same desk, and she decided today to clean the top?
Her plump, soft bottom lip teased him innocently. Her warm eyes never left his. He gazed down her body and found her arms hanging loosely at her sides, and her hip cocked. If he didn't know otherwise, he'd think someone had finished loving on her moments ago. She was too relaxed. Even his irritation failed to impact her suddenly easy-going attitude.
"And during that time, you couldn't answer the phone or understand that keeping every fucking member of Ronacks at the clubhouse longer than what was required fucked with them getting to work on time?" He shook his head without taking his gaze off her. "What's going on with you?
"It was a good morning." She touched his arm and stepped around him, brushing her breasts against his chest. "I need to get back to working. We'll talk later."
He pivoted. "When?"
She gazed over her shoulder, smiled, and said, "Soon."
The swinging kitchen door in her absence only beat the arousal she left behind in him. What kind of fucking game was she playing?
More importantly, who the fuck put her in a good mood?
He stormed down the hallway and walked into her office. Taking the chair behind the desk—now bare, he swiveled the seat and turned on the screen hooked remotely to the security cameras placed in and outside the bar. Recordings were made twenty-four hours on a continual loop with seventy-two hours recorded at a time. He'd damn well find out what went down this morning to keep her from meeting him at the clubhouse to put an end to their marriage.
While he shuffled through the camera screens and finally found the one where Raelyn and Dukie stepped outside, he leaned closer. None of the cameras had audio, and more than anything he wanted to know what she was saying. He missed having the chance to be there, a part of their normal day.
From all appearances, Raelyn behaved the same way she had yesterday. As if someone stole her happiness. She watched Duke, she got down to his level, she touched her son lovingly, and she stood and waved goodbye.
She'd done everything expected of a mother.
He glanced down at the time of the taping and back up at the screen. Raelyn hadn't moved after Allison drove away. Why wasn't she going to her car to come to the clubhouse?
Impatient to find out the answer, he rolled the chair closer to the screen. He squeezed the remote that controlled the playback functions, struggling not to fast forward to get answers. Raelyn continued to stare out across the parking lot. There were no cars or people around.
On the screen, she walked backward several feet. His body stilled, and he stared at the picture. She'd run into the door and slid down to the ground. He stood leaning toward the screen. Raelyn hugged Dukie's duffle bag to her chest. He squinted trying to see what she was doing, but the side view only gave him her profile, he couldn't see her eyes or her mouth.
Her body rolled in on itself, and she buried her face into the bulk of the bag. Mel thrust his hands in his hair unable to do anything because whatever upset her happened two hours ago. He wasn't here to help her fix whatever she was going through.
"She's okay. She's okay," he said reminding himself that Raelyn looked better than ever when he'd come in. Hell, more than fine.
On the recording, the backdoor opened. Raelyn's head came up, and she leaned back to talk to someone out of camera range. Mel sat back down, peering intently at the screen. Sharon walked out, then sat on the ground, too. What the fuck?
Since when do women sit on the asphalt behind a bar? As soon as the question to him, he said, "Raelyn. Raelyn would. She's okay."
Both women's mouths moved, and they kept looking at each other. Unable to hear anything, he pushed the fast-forward button on the remote until they both stood. He looked down at the clock. They'd talked for over twenty minutes.
Then, they disappeared from the camera.
"Fuck." He clicked the wrong button and had to shuffle through the screens to find the camera for inside the bar.
Finally, he found Raelyn talking to the cleaning ladies. Then Gia, Heather, and Peggy walked in through the back. Raelyn talked with them behind the counter until Bethanee came in and they all moved to a table as the cleaning ladies gathered their supplies and left through the front door. For the next half hour, Raelyn checked her phone four times and returned it to the table.
She laughed.
She nudged the other women.
She even pulled down the front of her shirt and showed the ladies something on the front of her bra.
It was as if her breakdown outside had come and gone, changing her. He sat back in his chair hard enough he slid into the desk. Dropping the remote, he reached down to pick it up when on the screen a man walked into the bar. The remote forgotten, he stared at the group of women getting up from the table.
On the screen, Raelyn reached the man first and touched his arm. Mel growled. Son of a bitch.
The man wore a Ronacks leather jacket, a skullcap, and kept his face averted from the camera. Every fucking member of the club had been at the clubhouse with him, waiting for Raelyn to arrive to break up their marriage.
Raelyn motioned for the man to follow her. Mel's gaze went across the screen until the two of them passed through the swinging doors to the kitchen. Not wanting to miss a moment of them together, he pushed the button on the remote and flipped the screen to the kitchen and caught them walking into the hallway with their backs to the camera. Gritting his teeth, he switched to the hallway camera and lost them as they disappeared into the office.
"God damn," he muttered.
The office and the upstairs had no cameras. Out of respect for Raelyn, the apartment remained private areas where customers weren't allowed.
He hit the rewind button and stopped the recording. Going frame by frame forward until the last second, taken by the doorway to the office, he froze the picture and clicked to enlarge the photo until he could read the arm patch.
Nomad.
Lip.
Fuck.
Every woman's wet dream, Phillip "Lip" Rocco, the club's nomad member had shown up after being gone for six months. How many times had he heard Raelyn practically moan every time his MC brother showed up?
Even hearing Lip's name would send Raelyn into a giggling fit.
He pushed out of the chair and shut off the screen. It had taken her damn little time to get Lip alone, while only last night she'd mean mugged him. He stalked out of the room. First, he was going to find Sharon and find out why Raelyn was upset. Then, he was going to find Lip and kill him.
Upstairs, he found Sharon and Grandma June in their apartment. Unable
to sit still, he stood in the open doorway.
"Earlier, you talked with Raelyn. Why was she upset?" he asked.
Sharon sat back down on the tan, ten-year-old couch, the same kind of couch that was in Mel's apartment. "She wasn't upset."
"I watched her on the security camera. You were consoling her," he said, not letting her cover for her daughter.
Sharon lost her smile and glanced at Grandma June. "Raelyn's downstairs. You can ask her if anything is bothering her. Far as I know, she's fine. Didn't she look fine to you, mom?"
Grandma June raised her brows, and a slow smile came over her face, yet her eyes stared at Mel without seeing him fully. He cocked his head. "Is she toasted?"
"Higher than those mountains out the window." Sharon waved her hand and laughed. "It helps her arthritis."
"Jesus," he muttered. "Raelyn doesn't want any dope around Dukie or in the bar."
"No worries." Sharon fluffed up her hair with her hands. "She finds her fun at the senior center, and once she takes her afternoon nap during CSI reruns, she'll be on the straight and narrow again before Dukie gets home. Raelyn already put down the law with her."
Mel studied the unconventional women, gritting his teeth. Finally, he said, "You're not going to tell me what upset Raelyn earlier."
"Nope." Sharon smiled softly, reminding him of Raelyn. "She's my daughter and has a right to talk to her mom and trust that what she tells me stays with me, don't you think?"
Jesus Christ. He nodded. "I'll let you two...do whatever you're doing. Make sure Grandma June stays upstairs."
He left the apartment and took the stairs. In the bar, he found Raelyn, and walked straight to her, cutting her off from escaping him.
"What was Lip doing here?" Running on fury, knowing Lip only had to grin to get inside a pair of panties, Mel refused to let Raelyn walk away from him.
"How would I know?" Raelyn shrugged. "He's a Ronacks member. Enough said."
He gritted his teeth. "What was he doing in your office?"
"He needed privacy." Raelyn placed her hand flat on Mel's chest. "Now, move. The lunch crowd needs to eat and get back to their day job."
