by Ana Jolene
Music was playing in full swing now, blaring from the speakers. The a/c was finally on, bringing much needed cool air to the entire bar. I sang along with Hanna as I served my latest customer, and she and I even did a little dance to Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me” when body shots were called. Hanna didn’t seem to mind the shots I was knocking back as quickly as I was dishing them out. It brought excitement to the night, and to be honest, it made the long work hours tolerable. I was quickly learning that I could love this job if it was always this carefree and wonderful.
However, there was still that trickle of unease knowing that Glory MC could roll in at any moment. Why hadn’t they returned yet? Was it normal for them to come and go so easily? I’d been meaning to ask Hanna about her relationship with Knuckle, but bringing the subject up wasn’t a simple thing to do with your new boss. I jumped in anyway figuring I could blame it on being drunk if she refused to answer. “So, how long have you been seeing Knuckle?” My question seemed to take Hanna by surprise because she paused midway of bringing a beer to her lips and laughed like I had said the funniest thing. “What’s so funny?” I asked, half laughing myself.
“Nobody is “seeing” Knuckle if that’s what you’re saying.”
I let my confusion show clear on my face.
She sighed, wrapping her arm around me and pulled me close. “I’m just fucking him, darling. No one owns that man.” Hearing the crudeness in her words set me back at bit. Did she not love him? And if not, why let him use her beloved dive bar for his own endeavors?
“But he comes here often to see you. Neptune’s acts as his clubhouse. Don’t you think that gives you some say in his business?”
Hanna shook her head, red tendrils spilling over her face. “It’s not as easy as that. With the flares, space is limited. I think of it as an extension of the business. Glory MC provide the means to supply my bar and kitchen and in return, they use it as their clubhouse. But that doesn’t give me a way into the club. I don’t ever get involved in their business.”
“Then how did you two, you know . . . get together?”
“We have a natural chemistry,” she admitted. “But it’s not love.”
Not love, huh? That was a little more anti-climatic than I was expecting. “Seems a little bit lonely . . . ”
Hanna sighed. “Look, you haven’t worked here for long so you don’t know me yet. But let me tell you that I don’t need a man to make me feel complete. And neither do you. This partnership is working for me at the moment, but I’m not stupid enough to believe it’ll last.”
“Are you talking about Neptune’s as Glory MC’s clubhouse or your affair with Knuckle?”
“Is there a difference?”
That was enough to have me shutting up and dropping it.
Hastie
The last three days had to be the worst of my life. Club business was a brutal thing, but last night proved to be one of the worst nights in Glory MC’s history.
We discovered a snitch amongst us and the thing about Glory MC was that we had zero tolerance for rats. The guy’s name was Fletcher and he had been one of our own. When word got out that he was badmouthing Glory MC behind our backs, gathering evidence of murder with the intent to take us down, the club had been forced to act. It seemed that Fletcher believed that Knuckle was responsible for the murder of one of our own and had covered it up, not wanting the rest of the club to know about it. None of us believed our prez was capable of such a betrayal.
Since the start of the solar flares six years ago, the world ceased to have any government. There were no more cops trolling the streets to keep people in order, so people turned to us because we kept living as we had been. We held no fear. We weren’t governed by any rules. We lived our lives our way, regardless of what anyone else thought. It was just that now people were finally experiencing our way of living. And actually enjoying it. If you wanted to survive in this post-flare world then you had to do whatever it took, and sometimes, it wasn’t always about being good and right. The club had never shied away from threats, and we weren’t going to start now.
Glory MC wholly embraced the outlaw motorcycle club lifestyle. We lived and breathed for the patches on our back. And nobody was ever going to change that for us. Especially not some traitor.
Knuckle found out about Fletcher’s betrayal and suddenly, he was a walking dead man. Fletcher fled, causing us to chase him down. The club went on the road for three days despite the blistering heat to hunt him.
Whenever we rode, we rode tire to tire, lined up according to status. That meant the prez was up front with the road captain, followed by the others and any prospects in the back. I could only imagine what we looked like to Fletcher as we rode in like a black plague. We found the bastard just outside Ward Four’s border. He was on the side of the road, filling up his own gas tank at a station when we cornered him. Seeing Fletcher face-to-face triggered something in Knuckle. He simply snapped, ordering the prospects to go at him in a free-for-all. And since the prospects would do anything to get into the club, whenever the prez ordered something, it was always carried out swiftly. They beat him to shit before Fletcher could even get a word out.
The bastard deserved it though. Once you were a brother, you laid your life for club. End of. Loyalty was paramount and when you fucked us over, you didn’t get a chance to live to tell about it. There was no such thing as retired members in Glory MC, only dead ones.
When Fletcher was first inducted into the club, he got the respected Glory MC colors tattooed on his arm. That had to come off as two of the prospects held him down and another used a hot iron to burn the ink off. His screams echoed for miles, but not even the people at the gas station came out to interfere.
Right after that, I could tell Fletcher wouldn’t hold out for much longer. Blood coated him from head to toe and his right eye had swollen to an impressive size. He was blubbering nonsense when Knuckle approached him, backing away like a crab on hot sand as if trying to make a last desperate escape to flee. It was always a morbid sight to watch someone die. But sometimes, that person deserved it.
Now, the image would be burned into my brain for a long time: Knuckle picking up Fletcher by the front of his shirt, unsheathing the twin blades tucked beneath his arms, and skewering them cleanly through Fletcher. He held them there as life escaped his eyes so he knew who was ending him. I bet Fletch regretted the reason why he was dying now.
The ride home after seemed endless. A hot, heavy wave rode with us all at losing a member. Lucky, however, seemed the most rattled by the events. He was only a prospect, not a fully patched member yet so he hadn’t seen all that I had already. There were times when life in Glory MC was exhausting and the last few days were definitely that.
It was late when we rolled into Neptune’s and yet the place was still buzzing with activity. We hadn’t had another solar flare so the electricity was up and running, and Hanna was taking advantage of the high spirits.
I was there for only two seconds when my gaze zoomed directly to the bombshell whom I met the last time I was here. Indy was off duty tonight as far as I could tell because she wasn’t wearing the tight shirt that advertised Neptune’s on the front. The fuck-me Louboutins were gone and my spirits dimmed momentarily until I saw she was wearing a pair of cute ankle boots instead.
She was playing pool with some guys, drinking, smiling and laughing as one of them joked. I chose a spot at the bar that was close enough that I could get a visual on her and hear their conversation, but not close enough to look like I was butting in.
Either way, my efforts were useless. Just as the rest of Glory MC rolled in, the atmosphere in the dive bar changed dramatically. The patrons suddenly grew tense, and I could tell Indy sensed it too because she paused in the middle of her next turn and looked up, straight into my eyes. Her lips parted on a gasp.
I gave her one cool smirk before Lucky came up to me and dropped his ass in the seat next to me. “Such a shit day,” he muttered. “I need
a drink.”
Immediately, Hanna was there handing us a shot of whiskey each. Then she was gone, no doubt going over to give Father Dearest a kiss with tongue.
The shot burned its way down as I tossed it back. Damn, that was good. I instantly wanted another. Slanting a look at Lucky, his expression told me he was thinking the same thing I was. Then, with extreme acrobatic agility, he climbed over the bar and grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels. This time, we toasted.
“To the damned,” I said.
“And the forgotten,” Lucky added. I frowned at his words, wondering about their deeper meaning but let it go the second I tossed the shot back and felt the sweet burn. Just then, a woman with insane curves approached Lucky and yup, who would have thought, Lucky was gonna get lucky in about two minutes tops.
He shot me a daring grin before wrapping his arm around the girl and taking her away. I smiled and shook my head. The fucker was insatiable. But at least this left me alone so I could watch Indy.
I could tell she was pointedly ignoring me. Not once did her eyes glance in my direction as she continued her game of pool with the bunch of idiots, but I could tell she was attuned to me even if she hadn’t looked my way.
Something was said between her and one of the guys because she cocked her hip out saucily to hip-check him. The guy took that as a sign and wrapped his arm around her slender waist and pulled her in.
My body tightened immediately as he reached for her. Mood darkening, I had to forcefully stop the fleeting images of torturing this bastard in my head. But it was a lost cause, especially when Indy turned towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“You’re pretty good at this,” the asshole said.
Indy grinned, those perfect lips splitting into a bright smile that lit up her face. “You afraid of losing to a girl?” That cheeky remark got a hoot of laughter from the guy’s friends.
The asshole took the teasing in stride, grinning like a fucking idiot. He dipped his head again. “Look, baby, I like you. A lot. I’m taking you to dinner.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes. Yeah, because a fucking chicken potpie was really going to win her affections.
“Are you?” Indy drawled. “I didn’t know this was a date.”
“It could be.”
Gag. Me.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, and with that, Indy uncoiled herself from the douchebag and bent over to the pool table, sinking her last shot. In this position, her ass was poised in the air, round and tight, and my full attention was drawn to it. There was something magnetic about her for sure. As she laughed, all eyes were on her.
“We’re heading back to my place after this game.” The asshole gestured with a thumb towards himself and one of his friends. “You’re invited if you want to come.” He grinned as he emphasized the last word, and I just about hopped off the barstool to deliver a well-placed punch. Was he insinuating a threesome?
My head swiveled to catch Indy’s reaction. Surely she wasn’t going to take this dumb fuck up on his offer, right?
Wrong.
Indy sent him a mega-watt smile that knocked me out flat. “Sure, sugar. Just let me get my things.”
My jaw nearly dropped to the floor. But I kept it tight, hoping that she’d change her mind, ditch dweedle-dumb and dweedle-dick and just head home.
As if I was invisible, Indy walked past me and headed straight for Hanna. She gave her a hug and a smooch on the cheek before waving goodbye. Then she disappeared to the back room where she returned minutes later wearing a jacket.
This chick wasn’t serious, was she? She was leagues better than these two idiots who probably didn’t know how to fuck a girl in a hot three-way. Looking at them now . . . God, did they even have anything but pencils in those tight pants?
This was fucked up. I had to intervene.
As Indy made her way back to the waiting assholes, I stepped in her path. She was walking so fast, she almost skidded into me. “Indy,” I growled.
Wide eyes landed on me. “Oh . . . hi.”
“You’re not leaving with these two idiots.”
Her eyes narrowed with my possessive words. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” She crossed her arms over her chest, the action pushing her tits up high, perfect for my viewing pleasure.
“It’s late. You’re not just going off with some guys you met in a bar so that they can take advantage of you.”
“Excuse me?” She laughed in disbelief. “I met you in a bar. This bar, to be exact.”
I bent down, drew in close to her and whispered, “But you didn’t leave with me, did you? You ran away.”
“I was working,” she said quickly.
“You’re not working now. Why don’t you stay with me a little while?”
Indy shook her head, sending tendrils of hair into her face. “I don’t think so.” Then she tried to move past me. I stepped over to block her.
“Those two guys wouldn’t know the difference between their own dicks, let alone know how to pleasure a woman.”
One of her eyebrows arched up. “And you’re telling me that you do?”
I grinned. “Why don’t you take me up on my offer and find out?”
THREE
That Dangerous Road
Indy
Oh God. That grin of his had my tummy doing somersaults. As I tried hard not to think of the endless possible ways that Hastie knew how to pleasure a woman, I watched on as the two guys I had planned to leave with approached us. Oh no, this wouldn’t bode well.
“Baby, you ready?” That was the blond.
Before I could respond, Hastie turned to face him and growled. “She’s not going anywhere with you.”
My insides clenched at the possessive tone in his voice. The confrontation was steeped in tension and hostility, acting like a clawed swipe of a predator that burst the little bubble of feel-good happiness I was in.
The blond’s friend spoke up next. “She told us she wasn’t seeing anyone, so you’re clearly not her boyfriend. You’ve got no say. She can do whatever she fucking wants.”
Hastie had moved so that he was a barrier standing between me and the other guys. His large towering frame made it difficult to see the other men, but it gave me a perfect view of the cut stretched across his back. It was a three-piece that proudly stated Glory MC on top with the image of The Tempter, a hooded female holding a scythe sitting on the edge of a blazing sun as the centerpiece. My eyebrows rose at the impressive detail of the depiction. The over exaggerated breasts and long slender legs left little to the imagination. She was simply breathtaking to look at. Lastly, the bottom rocker indicated where Hastie came from: Ward Four.
“She changed her mind. So fuck off.”
“Let the girl speak for herself,” the blond spat.
I had no doubt that Hastie would throw the first initiating punch. Violence was the natural way of correspondence between bikers when conversation wasn’t enough and Hastie had likely jumped into a brawl for much less. I needed to stop this before a full on fight occurred.
Acting as referee, I stepped in and grinned impishly at the two guys. “Sorry, boys. Maybe next time.” Come on, just let it go and leave, I thought, hoping my eyes conveyed the message. I hadn’t come here tonight for this. After meeting Hastie that first time, I hadn’t been able to get him out of my head. I chalked it up to not getting laid in a long time so instead of torturing myself, I was trying to fix the problem.
“There won’t be a next time,” Hastie growled.
“Man, fuck this,” the blond said as he and his friend left the bar. “No piece of ass is worth this much trouble.”
Oh great. Way to goad the man. Hastie had almost let them leave. But now he made a go after them, surging forward like a bull intent on trampling past the red flag. My hand shot up to his chest, stilling him before he could make the men pay for that last remark. I gave him my best convincing smile. “So, you were saying . . .?”
“What?” The one word w
as gritted through locked teeth. His emerald eyes were still fixed on the exit that the men had left through no doubt still counting the ways he could pummel them.
Desperate for a distraction, I said the one thing that was sure to catch his attention. “About your favorite ways to pleasure a woman.”
That did it. Hastie’s gaze swiveled down to me and our eyes locked. The rage disappeared and a slow, wolfish smile curled his lips, causing a reacting flutter low in my belly. “I’d rather show you.”
“Shouldn’t you kiss me first? That’s what most men do, isn’t it?”
The space between us disappeared until I was pressed up against his hard body. My breath came in shallow spurts, and my pulse spiked at the lopsided grin he gave me. His fingers touched my temple with the barest of teasing touches. That high I was on returned swiftly, only to be shot down by his next words. “I can’t kiss you.”
What?
Heat suffused my cheeks as embarrassment suddenly claimed me. I sailed right past that and now I was pissed. I shot down a night of no-holds-barred sex for a man who wouldn’t even kiss me? What the hell? “Fine,” I said, trying to hide the way my voice shook from the sting. “We’ll play some pool then.”
Without waiting for an answer, I moved away from him to the other side of the pool table, setting up a new game. As I finished, I glanced up and saw Hastie shake his head. There was no amusement in his hard face, his teasing replaced by a stoicism that I was not a fan of.
I shot him a look that left no question to my displeasure. Frustration mounted until it was all I could see. “Let me get this straight. I’m not allowed to have a threesome. I’m not allowed to kiss you, and now I can’t even play pool? I’m starting to wonder why I found you so interesting in the first place.” Was this payback for turning him down the first time? In my annoyance, I chucked the pool cue on the table, scattering the balls in all different directions and made to leave. My bedroom would be more entertaining than this.
