by KE Osborn
I relax a little as I glance at Sass who seems completely annoyed by his arm draped over her shoulder. “Ahh, yeah. Since I finished my studies, I’m a fully qualified interior designer. Just got to get a business off the ground now, I suppose. I should really look into that. Sass, want to help me since you’re good with business shit?”
“Yes, for sure. Maybe we should get started,” she hints, her eyes signaling to go back inside.
“Yes, no time like the present. Well, it’s been great catching up with you, Renegade, but—”
“No, you’re not going yet.” His tone is more of a demand than a question as he tightens his hold on Sass. I stiffen my posture glancing around to see if anyone is watching. But Tremor’s too caught up in his workout, and I can’t see anyone else around. “See, girls, the thing is… Sass is an Old Lady, so you’re kinda off limits. But Lala… you’re here throwing yourself around all the time. Maybe you and me could talk a little about business, in private?”
Tensing up, I shake my head in disagreement without thinking. Renegade slams his fist on the table making me jump as Zane waltzes up looking like he has not a care in the world. “Hey guys, the weather’s totally kicking ass today, right?”
Sass looks terrified as I sit here glancing at Renegade, who slowly shifts his gaze to Zane like he’s mightily pissed off with him. “Zane, what do you want? I’m kind of in the middle of something here?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, whatever, man. But I thought you’d want to know Torque’s really fucked off you didn’t go with Lift for the roid shipment. He’s kinda on a warpath since you disobeyed him, so if I were you…” He tilts his head toward the clubhouse as Renegade groans unwrapping his arm from around Sass and stands.
“I’m not done talking to you about this Lala,” he adds, then storms off as Zane slides in next to Sass. She quickly throws her arms around him, yanking Zane into a tight embrace making him tense up like most brothers do when you hug them.
“Thank you, Zane. He was being a total asshat,” Sass sneers as she pulls back.
Zane sits back in the seat finally looking a little more comfortable. “It’s all good. Is he like that with you guys all the time?” he asks.
I shrug. “He’s always an asshole, but this is the first time he’s brought up… well, whatever it was he was implying. Which, by the way, I want no fucking part of.”
Zane’s brow creases. “So he’s been an asshole to you before?”
“Yeah, all the time. He’s always cornering me being a jackass, or leering at me and shit, but actually talking about being in private with me is a first.”
Zane pulls out his cigarette packet then quickly lights up. Sass smiles as she folds her arms across her chest. “You know, you did us a solid, so now I’m going to do you one.” She grabs the cigarette from his lips and butts it out on the table.
Zane’s eyes blink a few times while he stares, not believing what he’s seeing. “What the fuck?”
I giggle as I sit back watching this play out. “My father’s dying of emphysema because of these damn cancer sticks, and here you are just puffing away on one in front of me? I don’t think so, prospect.”
I glance over at Tremor who’s now lifting weights at the bar. Fuck, he looks good. “You know I tried so many times to get Tremor to stop smoking, too. It’s such a bad habit. You guys need to quit together.”
Zane throws his hands in the air. “God, what are you two? My mother? I’ll quit when I’m damn ready. No disrespect, Sass, you are an Old Lady and all, but you’re not my Old Lady. So you can’t tell me what to do. And Lala… I love you like you’re my little sister but let it go. Making a man try to give up his vice is like telling a horse not to trot. It’s just a part of everyday life.”
I chuckle as Sass nudges his side. “Wow! That’s really insightful, you should become a poet.”
“All right, fuck you both. I come in here saving the day, and this is how I get repaid? I’m out.”
We both start laughing as he stands up, walking over toward Tremor. “Thank you, Zane,” I call out.
He throws his hand in the air in a gesture of don’t worry about it as he heads toward the man now doing crunches. How can someone look so good when they’re working out?
Yeah, that shit should be illegal.
“Well, that was intense,” Sass murmurs bringing me back to the moment.
I look at her, prying my eyes from Tremor with a sigh. “Yeah, Renegade’s always such a random draw, you never know exactly what you’re going to get with him.”
She exhales reaching out, grabbing my hand. “Please be careful around him. The way he was talking to you… it scares me.”
The solemn look in her eyes lets me know she’s serious. I can’t help but think she’s right. Renegade was different today. He meant something different. I’m not sure what’s changed in his eyes. I know I certainly haven’t done anything to lead him on. All I know for sure is I sure as hell am not going to encourage him.
No fucking way.
Guy creeps me out.
“I will, but hey… let’s go talk about my business if you’re up for it? But inside, I need to get away from all the testosterone out here.”
Sass laughs glancing over to Tremor, who’s now wiping his sweat away with a towel.
Jesus!
“Yeah, I get it. Let’s go.” She stands from the seat, then looks back toward Tremor and Zane. “Lookin’ good there, Tremor,” she calls out through a giggle making me cower as I stand up grabbing her hand and then pull her with me to the door of the clubhouse.
“Bitch,” I sneer as she continues to giggle to herself.
After spending some time running through some business strategies with Sass, I figured I’d better leave the clubhouse. I have an apartment I actually live in, and I should spend some time there working on ideas for Zane’s sister.
So I sit on my sofa plotting through some ideas for her living area. Of course, I have no idea what Mia actually wants me to work on because I haven’t spoken to her yet, but it’s best to come in prepared.
As I pull out my paper to get underway, my mind starts to wander. I think back to times when Tremor was here, on this sofa beside me. When we would talk about what life might be like if we told Torque about our relationship. Thing is, it never got that far. Torque found out before we were able to break it to him, gently. It inevitably broke us. The thing Tremor doesn’t know is when he stormed out of my room at the clubhouse that night, Torque kind of gave his blessing to us.
Flopping down in the sofa, my memory takes me back.
The creek of the door should have alerted me, but it didn’t. I was far too relaxed and practically asleep as my world came crashing down.
“Fuck,” Tremor’s low voice murmured as he nudged me in the bed beside him. I groaned, turning and wrapping my arm around his waist in a sleepy haze. “Lala, wake up.” His harsh tone spoken through gritted teeth made me slightly more awake.
“Tremor, if you don’t have any pants on, I swear I’m gonna put a bullet right between your eyes, kid,” my eldest brother’s voice cut through the morning air.
Jolting awake, I bolted upright turning to face Tremor in complete shock. “Ry? What the hell are you doing in my room?” My voice was so high pitched it shocked even me as I pulled the blanket up to cover my naked chest. We hadn’t ‘slept’ together, but it didn’t mean I had to cover myself while we slept.
Torque stepped inside slamming the door shut behind him curling up his top lip. “Tremor, I don’t need to tell you what to do.”
Anger swarmed through me. Why the fuck did Torque think he had the right to openly walk into my room telling my guy what the hell to do? But like a fucking puppet, Tremor’s hand instinctively ran gently down my arm before he scooted out of the bed and rushed to get dressed.
“Ry, you can’t just come in here and kick out my guests. Trem, stay. Please.”
Torque scoffed glaring at Tremor who looked at me, then to Torque, but continued to get dre
ssed.
Asshole!
“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?”
Groaning in frustration, I watched as Tremor pulled on his boots heading for the door. “Tremor, if you leave, I’m going to be really upset with you.”
Torque turned to him with a sternness. “Tremor, if you don’t leave, don’t expect to be gaining a patch, brother.”
Letting out an exacerbated groan, I watched as Tremor’s face fell. He looked from Torque to me, then winced. He shook his head, turned, then yanked open the door forcefully walking through and slamming it shut behind him.
“I hate you, Rylan,” I called out, picking up a pillow and threw it at my brother.
With a laugh, he walked over to my bed. He sat down next to me as I folded my arms over my pulled-up knees. “I know you hate me now but being with a biker…” his brows snapped 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.”
I raised my brow as we continued to argue for a moment.
About Foxy, about Tremor.
Then shit got serious.
“I just think you’re too hard on yourself… on your brothers… on Tremor. I know you, I know this club. Sure, you might not do things exactly by the book, but you’re not terrible human beings. You do have a moral compass, Rylan. I’ve grown up here. I know how to handle myself, and I know Tremor is good for me. Hell, you know it, too. You’re just scared to let your little sister have a decent relationship,” I said.
“It’s a relationship now?”
I sighed. “I… I don’t know, but it could be. If you let it get that far. But he’s probably petrified of me now because of you.”
“He should be—”
“Ry!”
“Okay, shit! I just don’t want you getting hurt. The other night when you could have been taken by Enzo’s men...” He shook his head. “The things they would have done to you, Lala. That’s on me.”
I reached out, grabbed his hands making him turn to look me in the eyes as I spoke to him about his war with Enzo.
I talked.
He listened.
“… All I know is, this war you two have can’t continue, it’s ruining the streets of Chicago.”
A small smile crept on his lips. “When did you become so smart?”
I let out a small giggle. “I’ve always been the brains of this family. You’re the brawn, and Trax is the brute.”
“What’s Mom then?”
I smiled. “The beauty.”
“Yeah, she is, and you take after her in that department, Lala. Just promise me, if you and Tremor become a thing, you won’t flaunt it in front of me.”
My eyes lit up. A sudden rush of excitement ran through me. This couldn’t be happening? Could it? “Is that your version of a blessing?”
Groaning out loud, he shook his head. “It’s my version of an ‘I won’t kill him’ if I see him with ya. But if he hurts you, I swear as God is my witness, I make no promises.”
Letting out a small squeal, I rushed forward wrapping my arms around him in a tight embrace, trying hard to keep the sheet up around my naked chest. He hugged me back while shaking his head. “Always use protection,” he blurted out. I scoffed pulling back as I shoved him hard in the chest making him chuckle as he stood from the bed.
“Jesus, Ry. Fucking shut up.”
He turned as he headed for the door. “You don’t want any unplanned pregnancies.”
“Oh my God,” I murmured under my breath as I flopped back onto the bed, feeling both equal parts humiliated and jubilated as he chuckled walking out, softly closing the door with a click.
Torque had sort of given his blessing, now Tremor and I could be free to be together.
Sinking back on my sofa, I sniff. The memory being one of the hardest and the best at the same time. Tremor walked out on me, he chose his patch in that moment over me. But then my brother, his president, gave us his version of the okay to be together. The problem was Tremor never gave me the time to tell him about my conversation with Torque. To this day, he still doesn’t know. The point is moot now anyway seeing as Tremor has made it completely clear, even though we have spent time together since then, he only wants us to be friends.
The problem is our chemistry keeps getting us into situations that friends don’t get in. Then we fight about it, and we’re back to being angry at each other.
Me at him for choosing his patch over me.
Him at me for not understanding.
So the vicious cycle goes on and on until one of us will inevitably crack. I sometimes wonder if I should tell him about Torque’s and my discussion, but I think with all the time that’s passed with us not going anywhere, I’m not sure if Torque’s acceptance of us is still actually valid.
Exhaling out a groan, I grab my stash of chocolate from the end of the coffee table breaking off a block. If I’m going to get through today, I need to do it with misery food in place.
Damn you, Torque.
Damn you, Tremor.
Damn you libido for constantly thinking about Tremor doing those chin-ups.
I groan again, my arm draping over my forehead in my misery.
This is going to be a long-ass day.
TREMOR
As I jump down from the cab of the truck, I glance at Zane who seems a little off today, not his usual asshole self. He’s quiet, which is weird. I step up next to Vibe raising my chin as Zane walks ahead of us toward the back of the gun range.
“You think something’s up with Zane? He seem… off to you?”
Vibe shrugs. “You prospects always seem weird to me, brother. I never tell which one of you will be causing more shit one day to the next.”
“We’re not that bad.”
Vibe’s brow scrunches as he lifts his shirt to show his scar on his right side. “This scar, a bullet scrape from when you and Zane were doing target practice but forgot to tell the rest of us to clear the range. Remember that?”
Grimacing, I shrug. “In Zane’s defense, it was only a scrape.”
Vibe bursts out laughing, slapping my back as we walk in to the popping sound of weapon’s firing. The gun range is one of Defiance’s most lucrative ventures run by none other than Gunner. He’s been with us forever. So long, he hardly ever comes into the club now, spending most of his time with his family. He doesn’t even wear his cut at the range, but Torque’s fine with it. Thinks it might scare away the customers. With his red hair turning grayer and grayer every time I come here, he turns to look at us as he stands from behind the desk, making his way over.
“Guys, good to see you. The ahh… delivery is in the usual place, ready for transfer. No issues as per normal,” he relays.
Vibe shakes his hand as he looks around the front desk. “Torque told me to tell you to wish your wife a happy birthday,” Vibe offers, and I sigh.
This is why Torque’s such a great president. He knows about his club members, he takes an interest in their lives. This is why I need to belong here. This is why I need to be a part of this family.
“Tell our president, thank you, Vibe. That’s kind of him to always remember. He’s a good man.”
“Will do, but for now, we have a delivery to move. Night, Gunner,” Vibe calls out, waving his hands through the air at Zane and me like he’s shooing us toward the loading dock.
I chuckle as I head with Zane out the
back. We walk through the hall, then I enter the code on the security lock to gain access into the loading dock. It beeps, then unlocks the door, and we enter. The lights flicker on, one by one, as we walk in closing the door behind us. The cargo crates are stacked up inside. If the cops ever visited, it looks like crates of ammunition for the gun range and pop and provisions for the vending machines, but hidden inside those crates are the real treats. The AK47s and the steroids we distribute between our gyms and the local lowlifes. Sure, we have our aboveboard businesses like the gun range, Club Modesty, and our gyms are all run legally. But what we sell in them or sometimes hide in them might not always be aboveboard.
But hey, we’re bikers, we need a reason to wear this 1% patch.
Vibe walks over to the roller door rolling it up. The opening is just wide enough for the back of the truck to fit. No one outside will see what we’re loading into it. We pulled the truck up into place, so all we have to do is load and leave.
Stepping over to the correct crate, I drag it to the belt to lift it. Zane steps up to help me as Vibe uses the hydraulic tailgate.
I glance at Zane, he’s so freaking quiet it’s unnerving. Something’s definitely up. He’d normally be cracking jokes about tight boxes or at least complaining about being here. I want to know, so I figure I’ll just ask.
“Zane, what the fuck’s wrong with you?” I ask. We slide the first box onto the tailgate.
His eyes shoot toward me like he’s tense all over. He forces out a fake laugh and shrugs as we hoist the box up. “Nothing precious… your male ego hurt ‘cause I’m not a Chatty Cathy today?”
That’s more like the Zane I’m used to, but I’m not buying what he’s selling. “Bro, is something wrong with Mia?” I ask.
He scrunches his face. “With my sister? No. Why the fuck would you ask me that?”
My muscles bulge as we hoist the heavy as fuck box onto the tailgate for Vibe to slide into the back of the truck. The sliding of the woodgrain on the metal grates on my damn ears.
