Retribution (The Lone Riders MC Series Book 2)

by Michelle Betham

  Stepping inside, Ben was thankful that everything seemed a lot cleaner than it had appeared yesterday. Looking over towards the small kitchen he noticed Angie Farlow hard at work, scrubbing the counter tops like her life depended on it, and Ben wasn’t altogether sure that was a good sign. He’d once heard Lexi say that her mum usually went on a cleaning frenzy when she had things on her mind, and if that was true, then Ben only hoped that whatever Angie was concerned about had nothing to do with this job he’d just been given.

  ‘Ben!’ Angie beamed, pulling off her rubber gloves as she walked towards him. ‘You here to see Mia?’

  Ben nodded, taking another look around him. There was a completely different atmosphere in the clubhouse than there had been yesterday, but that didn’t surprise him. One minute this place was party central, the next it was all peaceful and quiet. Nothing unusual in that.

  ‘Do you want a coffee, or something stronger, maybe? While you’re waiting?’

  ‘Hmm? Sorry?’ Ben looked at Angie, a woman who belied her fifty-something years with her red-streaked hair and killer figure, something Lexi had definitely inherited from the former Queen of the compound. ‘Erm, no. No, thank you. I’m fine. How – how’s Tay doing?’

  Angie smiled, leaning back against the bar, digging her hands into the pockets of her spray-on jeans. And there weren’t many women of Angie’s age who could get away with those the way she could. ‘He’s doing just fine, I guess. Although, sometimes I think he misses the kick being President of this club could give him, but…’ She shrugged, her eyes dipping to the floor, just for a second or two. ‘I’m glad he’s out of it.’

  Ben leaned back against the bar beside her, putting his briefcase down on the floor and folding his arms. ‘You worried about Coby and Lexi taking over the reins?’

  Angie shook her head, smiling slightly. ‘Coby is a more than capable President. And Lexi can look after herself.’

  That didn’t really answer his question, but Ben knew better than to dig too deep. ‘And, are you okay about Mia coming over to Paradise?’ Ben continued, his eyes fixed firmly on Angie, her gaze now back down on the floor.

  ‘It wouldn’t matter how I felt about the situation,’ Angie replied, lifting her head, her eyes once more meeting Ben’s. ‘Not any more.’

  It was Ben’s turn to look down, his hands now in his pockets. There was something there, in Angie Farlow’s voice, that told him she probably wasn’t the biggest fan of what was happening, but he also knew that she was right – she had no major say now in any decisions concerning the club. All that control had gone, been handed over to Coby and her daughter. So she had no choice but to suck it up and run with it. Whatever it was.

  ‘I’ll do my best to make sure there’s no mess, Angie,’ Ben said, slowly looking back up, but not directly at her. Instead he allowed his gaze to wander around the almost-deserted clubhouse. When it was like this, with most of the members out at work, or doing whatever else it was they did all day, the place felt almost calm. A kind of peace hung over it, strange though that may sound. Maybe only Ben could really explain what he meant by that, but it did feel calm. A nice place to hang out, that’s how it felt, right now. What it all felt like later when the guys were back and the clubhouse was filled with noise and women and loud, ear-splitting music, that was a completely different matter. And Ben had seen both sides, on countless occasions.

  ‘I’d really appreciate that, Ben.’

  Angie’s voice pulled him back to reality, and he slowly turned his head to look at her, smiling slightly. ‘Like I said, I’ll try my best.’ But he could tell even she wasn’t convinced that the situation with Mia could stay free of any complications. Things rarely did around here.

  ‘Anyway,’ Angie sighed, pulling her hair back into a loose pony tail. ‘I’d better get back to the cleaning. Mia’s just over there, by the way. And thanks again, Ben.’

  ‘It’s what I’m here for.’

  ‘To sort out all our unholy messes?’ Angie asked, an almost wry smile on her face.

  Ben returned the smile, but didn’t reply. He just watched her retreat back into the kitchen before he turned to look over at the woman he was being asked to help. She had her back to him as she checked out photographs of Lone Riders, past and present, that graced the walls of the clubhouse. So all he could see was a mane of dark curls and long legs encased in figure-hugging leather pants, her arms – from what he could see – decorated with a myriad of colorful tattoos.

  Keeping his hands in his pockets he slowly approached her, not wanting to startle her. But there was a tiny part of him that couldn’t help feeling wary about this woman. He just didn’t know why. But it was a feeling that seemed to grow stronger the closer to her he got. And then she turned around, and he felt something shift inside him, like someone had just nudged his insides slightly out of kilter. She had the most beautiful deep, dark eyes, almost coal-black, and intensely heavy, as though the weight of the world was dragging her down. And Ben could also detect that hardness he was familiar with where the women of this club were concerned. Was that something that was bred into them, the women who were born into this lifestyle? That cold, hard, defensive shield that seemed to surround all of them?

  ‘Mia?’ He was asking a purely rhetorical question, of course, because it was obvious who she was.

  She nodded, the expression on her face barely registering a change as she stared him down. Jesus! This one was one tough lady! But then, given what he’d been told about her circumstances, Ben assumed she knew no other way to be. ‘And you are…?’ She trailed off, keeping her eyes on him as she waited for his answer.

  ‘Ben. Ben Salter. I’m the club’s lawyer.’

  She continued to stare at him, almost as if she was trying to work out just what kind of a man he was. And whether or not she could trust him. ‘Yeah. Charlie mentioned you.’

  Finally breaking the stare, she turned her attention back to the photographs on the wall, leaving Ben to let out a small, and hopefully inaudible sigh of something he could only describe as relief. And then he remembered just why he was there. He needed to talk to her. Needed to get this – whatever it was – moving. The sooner he did that, the sooner he could get it over with, because that bad feeling he’d experienced before, it wasn’t going anywhere.

  ‘We need to have a chat, Mia,’ Ben said quietly. ‘Just a quick one, then I promise you, you’ll never have to see me again.’

  She turned back around to face him, smiling only slightly, but the difference it made to her pretty features was undeniable. Those dark eyes of hers were still deep and intense – Ben had a feeling that was never going to change – but that one small smile had made her whole face light up, turning her from pretty to beautiful with her long dark hair, full lips and high cheekbones that were prominent without being too obvious. Striking was how Ben would describe her. The kind of woman you couldn’t ignore.

  ‘Okay.’ She shoved her hands deep into her pockets, hunching her shoulders up slightly, which gave her an almost vulnerable edge Ben was quite certain she’d never intended to show. ‘It’s just that, I don’t feel much like talking right now. Hasn’t Charlie told you everything you need to know?’

  ‘I need you to tell me, Mia. If I’m going to help you…’ He stopped mid-sentence, not missing the immediate change in her body language – the defensive barriers snapping right up around her the second he’d uttered the word “help”. Okay. She was stubborn. Someone who didn’t like to appear weak. Ben had seen it all before over the years. He knew the signs. ‘Look, I…’ He pushed a hand through his hair, briefly lowering his gaze before raising his head, their eyes meeting. ‘It’s just a chat. To let me hear, from you, what’s happening. That’s all it is. And then, together, we can decide what to do next. You’re in control of this situation, Mia, I promise you that.’

  ‘Am I?’

  He wasn’t entirely sure she’d meant to say that out loud, because she immediately looked away the second the words were out,
her shoulders hunching right up again. ‘Come on. Let’s sit down.’

  He slowly lowered himself on to the couch, watching as she sat down opposite him, the large coffee table between them offering the divide he guessed she needed. But at least her body language was becoming more receptive.

  ‘I just want him out of my life,’ Mia began. ‘And right now, I’m not sure that’s a possibility.’

  Those dark eyes of hers were staring him down again, almost as though they were daring him to achieve the impossible. Okay. He’d take the dare. He was never one to shirk a challenge, he never had been.

  ‘Nothing’s impossible,’ Ben said, matching her stare.

  ‘How long have you worked for the club?’ she asked, leaning forward, clasping her hands between her knees.

  Ben matched her stance, their eyes still locked together. ‘Long enough to know how to handle any situation it can throw at me. I’m no stranger to this environment.’

  She laughed, a small almost cynical laugh. She didn’t believe him? Hey! Another challenge. He was beginning to get into this now.

  ‘What did he do to you, Mia?’ The words had slipped out before he’d had a chance to think about saying them out loud, something he really should have thought about, because those barriers had shot right back up again, the hardness returning, clouding her beautiful face. ‘What did he do to you?’ His voice was little more than a whisper as he narrowed his eyes, looking at her more closely now; at the small scar just above her left cheekbone, the yellowing bruise on the side of her neck. And the knuckles on her right hand were bruised and cut, giving him the feeling she knew how to fight back.

  She held his gaze for a few, long seconds, the air heavy with an atmosphere Ben couldn’t describe. But it felt weighted with something that made the wariness he was experiencing triple in intensity.

  ‘Just get him out of my life,’ she said coldly, standing up and walking away without a backward glance.

  Five

  ‘Another.’ Mia pushed the empty glass towards Shane, her eyes locking with his. Shane raised an eyebrow, pouring a shot of bourbon into the tumbler. Mia widened her eyes, her mouth tightening as she took the drink from him. ‘You got a problem, Shane?’

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bar, his eyes still fixed on hers. ‘I ain’t got no problem, darlin’.’

  She knocked the drink back in one mouthful, slamming the glass down on to the counter. ‘Then you know what to do, don’t you?’

  He laughed, a short, low laugh, taking her glass and pouring another shot into it, sliding it back towards her. ‘You knock yourself out there, honey.’

  She narrowed her eyes, refusing to break the stare. She didn’t even know why she was being so cold towards this man because Shane Randell had done nothing but be kind to her since the day he’d arrived in Newcastle all those years ago. And nothing had changed now they were both here in Paradise. ‘Tell me, Shane, ‘cause I’m really interested. After everything this chapter put you through, why would you want to come back here?’

  Shane smiled, the kind of smile that lit up his quirkily handsome face. He was one of the few Lone Riders who didn’t have a beard of some description, and with his close-cropped hair and southern drawl he stood out from the rest of the brothers in almost every way. And she liked that about him – the fact he was slightly different. And kind. Such a kind man. After what he’d done for Lexi and Coby, there was no other word to describe him, really. In her eyes. Others had called him stupid. Naïve. Out-of-his-depth, even, but somehow Shane Randell had managed to turn it around, and get his life back on track. Was it really that easy to do?

  ‘I have nowhere else to go, darlin’.’ He poured himself a shot of bourbon, swallowing it down in one. ‘It’s as simple as that.’

  Mia pushed both hands through her hair, feeling her head begin to spin slightly. But that’s what you got for drinking shots too quickly before the sun was even high in the sky. ‘You think I can get my life back, Shane? Start over? Just like you did?’ Her voice had softened now, her demeanour relaxing. After all, none of this was Shane’s fault.

  ‘I think you can do anything you set your mind to, sweetheart.’

  She smiled at him, watching as he tidied up the bar area, drying glasses and setting up bottles as though this was just some ordinary hang-out, rather than the kind of place where all kinds of shit could kick off at a moment’s notice.

  ‘You’re much prettier when you smile.’ Shane fixed her with a look that made Mia’s smile grow even wider. ‘You should do it more often.’

  ‘Yeah. I might give that a go,’ she said, still smiling as she spun around on her stool, sliding down from it just as Kip appeared from the corridor that led to the small apartment at the back of the clubhouse. Mia couldn’t stop her heart from giving the tiniest of leaps as she watched him rake a hand through his dirty-blonde hair, his toned torso shown off to perfection in a tight black T-shirt. She was still trying to get her head around the man he’d turned into since she’d last seen him. So different to that skinny seventeen year old she’d once had a childhood crush on.

  Kip looked up as he approached the bar, a grin spreading across his face the second he saw her, and Mia felt her stomach join her heart in giving those tiny leaps, which she tried to push down. She tried to ignore them. But Kip Hart was undeniably hot, and that was something she couldn’t ignore. ‘Hey, gorgeous. You doing okay today?’

  She loved hearing that northern English accent. And even though his was now peppered with the slightest Californian twang, it was still there. Still evident, that accent that reminded her of Newcastle. Her home. A place she could never go back to now. And that thought filled her with a sadness she couldn’t kick back down.

  ‘Something I said?’ Kip asked, noticing her sudden change of mood.

  Mia stared into his beautiful blue eyes. Sometimes, when she looked at these men, it was hard to believe they were capable of the things they did; the constant fighting and the senseless killing and the sheer, bloody mess they created. But she had to remember that they were capable of anything. They all were. And no matter what she saw in their eyes she couldn’t forget that. They were capable of anything, as Lennie had proved.

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said quietly, grabbing her jacket and walking calmly out of the clubhouse, quickly and carefully checking along the row of bikes parked outside to see if any of them had a careless owner. Luckily for her, one of them appeared to have just that and she smiled to herself as she picked up the keys that had been left lying on the seat. Climbing on to the bike she quickly started it up and sped out of the yard, stopping only when she was out of sight of the compound.

  Staring down at her hands gripping the handlebars, she took a long, deep breath, her heart racing, the adrenaline pumping through her. Something had clicked inside her back there, in the clubhouse. Something that had reminded her she couldn’t trust these men who lived within the confines of this club. She couldn’t trust any of them, even the ones who seemed kind and sweet and caring. Lennie had once seemed kind. Lennie had once seemed caring. She couldn’t trust any of them.

  Looking up she exhaled slowly, feeling the rhythm of her heart return to normal, the tightness in her chest subside. She was in control of this situation, that’s what that lawyer had told her. And he was right. She was.

  ***

  ‘You talk to her much?’ Kip asked, sliding up on to the stool Mia had just vacated, taking the mug of coffee Shane held out to him.

  ‘Since she been here?’ Shane shrugged. ‘A little. She ain’t opening up a whole lot, though.’

  Kip took a sip of coffee, wincing slightly as the hot liquid burned his throat. ‘You see a lot of shit going down with her when you were over in Newcastle?’

  Shane threw the towel he’d been using to dry the glasses over his shoulder as he busied himself setting up more bottles behind the bar. ‘I had a lot of my own shit to deal with back then. Guess I didn’t have all that much time to think about anyone
else’s.’

  Kip took another sip of coffee, leaning forward as the caffeine hit started to kick in. ‘So, you had no idea what was going on between her and Lennie?’

  Shane looked at Kip, folding his arms. ‘I guess things started to change after Lennie’s brother died. He became angry at the whole world, you know?’

  ‘And he took it out on Mia.’ It wasn’t a question.

  Shane shrugged. ‘I guess. But she still married him. Still stayed with him.’

  ‘Maybe she felt she had to.’

  ‘Why you so interested in someone else’s shit anyway?’ Shane asked, a slow grin starting to spread across his face. ‘Oh, hang on. You think you stand a chance?’

  ‘I know I do.’ Kip reached for the bottle of bourbon sitting on the counter, pouring a healthy measure into what was left of his coffee. ‘Fresh blood, brother. Fresh blood.’

  Shane started to wipe down the counter. ‘You really wanna go there? Given what she’s going through?’

  Kip drained the last of his drink before getting up, pulling his cap from his back pocket and placing it over his ruffled hair. ‘Maybe I can help her forget all that crap, huh?’ He winked, pulling his cap further down over his eyes.

  Shane shook his head, smiling slightly. ‘You gonna get yourself in a whole heap of trouble there, brother.’

  ‘Yeah. That’s what I’m hoping.’

  ***

  Mia pushed past the somewhat irate receptionist, ignoring her shouts of protestation as she barged into the office without even considering a knock.

  Ben looked up from his work, a surprised expression crossing his face.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Ben. I tried to stop her but she wouldn’t listen.’

  ‘It’s okay, Fiona.’

  The receptionist threw him a confused look.

  ‘I said, it’s okay. I’ll deal with this.’