Another shiver rolls down my spine, but this is from a different feeling, and I'm not sure why—it's not like I know the mystery man. Red hair and cognac eyes flash in my mind, but that's just my brain conjuring up something it’s not supposed to. I mean it could be him, I just assume that if it was, he’d make his presence known. Not that I want him to or anything.
The black helmet turns to tattoo-face. He lifts the visor and revs his bike a few times before flipping the visor back down and looking back at me. Wonder what that was about?
The rumble of the engines grows to a deafening roar as the bikes roll forward. I catch one more look at the man with the black helmet, who’s still staring at me, before they pass by.
Is it weird or maybe sad that my first thought is to beg him to take me away from here? I know I'll be out of here soon, but what's the harm in fantasizing about him whisking me away on the back of his bike, my hair blowing in the wind, the town disappearing behind us?
There’s this subtle stirring of envy as I watch him speed off down the road. I want to feel that kind of freedom. Maybe one day I’ll have a bike of my own and I can ride off into the sunset, leaving all my cares and worries behind. Nothing but me and the open road.
“Poppy? Poppy!”
Hearing my name screamed from the phone makes me jump. “Oh, crap, sorry.”
“Was that a bunch of bikes?”
“Yeah, ten of them. Anyway, you coming over?” I walk back down the sidewalk.
“I can't tonight. Bobby wants to take me out, like an official date.” She squeals, making me wince.
“Yay! That's awesome. You’ll have to come over soon so we can catch up.”
“Hey, sorry about ditching you last night. I feel bad.”
I laugh. “Don’t worry about it. No harm done.”
“So, did you talk to Ryu? Get his number?”
Will there be a point any time soon, where I don’t think about him or have Deb ask me about him, which in turn makes me think about him? He clearly isn’t interested in me, and I definitely am not interested in him. We live in two different worlds, headed down two very different roads. No matter how bad my body craves him, there is no future where he and I will be painted in the same picture.
I ignore the skip of sadness my heart does.
“Nope. Nothing else happened.” I hate fibbing to her, but it’s not a complete lie—I didn’t get his number.
“Aww. I was really rooting for you. Oh well. We should hang out tomorrow.”
“Ok, sounds good. Talk to you soon. Love ya.”
“Love ya, too.”
I open the door of the restaurant and inhale the smell of freshly baked bread. So good. I glance at the menu displayed above the cashier just to make sure there isn’t something else I want besides my usual.
“Ready to order?”
“Yes.”
In less than ten minutes, I’m walking out of the shop with an Italian sub for me and a club-on-a-sub for Granny. While digging around in my purse for the keys, I walk back to my car. When I look up again, I freeze in place and almost collide with another person who side-stepped me at the last second. Parked next to my car is the black bike I saw earlier, and on that bike sits Ryu, helmet now in his hands.
A loud hammering from my chest invades my ears, and the ache between my thighs, that I’ve been suppressing since yesterday, grows. I stare at him, dumbfounded. Why didn’t he acknowledge me earlier? And why is he here now?
“Are you following me?”
A few passersby glance at me and then him, their gazes lingering on him. They don’t even try to hide their curiosity. It makes me want to turn and snap at them to mind their own business.
Not wanting to give people any more reason to create gossip where it’s not warranted, I move closer. Apprehension makes my pace slow, but it’s not because I’m worried about being near him. It's because I can already feel that weird tingle along my skin, that seems to get stronger with each step in his direction. When I get within two feet of him, I stop. Well, it was more of a loud plea in my head for my feet to stop moving.
He assesses me, like he’s checking me out to see if I’m ok. Which is weird. I find it off-putting even though my body is eating it up. There has to be a hidden camera around here somewhere. Too much random stuff has happened in the last twenty-four hours. I look around to see if I can spot anyone ready to jump out and say ‘gotcha,’ but I don’t see anything or anyone who looks suspicious.
“Looking for someone again?” His deep, throaty voice brings my focus back to him.
“What are you doing here?” I ignore his taunt, which makes his mouth lift at the corner.
“Can’t answer my question?”
I run my tongue over my teeth. “I asked you a question first, which you ignored and asked one of your own instead.”
“You ignored me first.”
I huff in irritation.
His shoulders start to bounce from him holding in a laugh. “You don’t like me, do you?” I don’t agree or deny. Something tells me if I say yes, he will see through my lie. And I don’t dislike him per se.
“I wanted to make sure you were ok.”
“And why wouldn't I be?” I feel like I walked into an alternate universe. Why would he be worried about me?
“A young girl getting hit on by bikers isn’t usually welcome in these parts.”
I purse my lips. Young girl?
“Seeing as I’m eighteen and considered an adult, I’ll give you a pass on the young girl statement. I promise I can take care of myself. But I’ll say thank you, again, for making sure I was ok and not traumatized by that disgusting sleazeball.”
He laughs, and it’s like a soothing song. I want to hear it again. “Noted. Glad your world wasn’t shattered by us heathens.”
The way he says heathens doesn't sit well with me. Is that how he sees himself?
“Try and stay out of trouble,” he warns. “It seems to be attracted to you.” He smirks then slides the helmet over his head.
I repeat what he just said. I swear there is a double meaning. Does he mean trouble in general, him specifically, or both? I watch him walk his bike backward out of the parking spot and onto the road. He gives me one last nod, then takes off.
I stand there well after he’s gone from sight, my brain still trying to work out the meaning of his parting words. Snapping myself to attention, I hop into my car and head home. Good thing I’m hanging out with Deb tomorrow, maybe she can make sense of what happened, because right now I feel like I’m going crazy.
Ryu
Seeing Poppy today was unexpected. She’d been clouding my thoughts since I rolled out of bed. Then there she was, standing on the corner when we rolled up. She looked like an angel standing there, and I had to fight the urge to swoop her up in my arms and carry her away; to protect her from all the dangers of the world. Including myself. I said as much to her, implied it even, though I don’t think she read between the lines.
Seeing Ace hit on her had me wanting to hurt something. It wasn’t as bad as seeing her whole face light up when JD smiled at her. Ace is a disgusting bastard that doesn’t deserve to even look at her, and from the scowl on her face, she hadn’t been impressed by him. JD, on the other hand, I wanted to punch him in the face. She practically melted when he smiled at her.
She’s never looked at me like that.
I park my bike in front of the clubhouse, ignoring the pair of eyes I know are narrowed on me.
Fucking Ace.
He’s the biggest piece of shit in the entire club. And the reason I turned around to check on Poppy. Well, not the only reason, but it's the only one I’m admitting to. Accepting the truth, the real reason I waited for her outside the sub shop would mean no longer ignoring the way her soul calls to me. It’s as if she has broken pieces inside that would fit perfectly with my own. I don't know any other way to describe it.
“Where the fuck did you go?”
I take my helmet off but don’t ackn
owledge him. I don’t have to explain myself. Which I know pisses him off. Good. Fuck him. I’m already in a shitty mood.
Ace abuses his vice president status any way he can, and Ghost doesn't ever call him out. Ace also thinks he’s a god to all women, which is a fucking joke. There’s nothing attractive about him—from the random tattoos splashed over his face and bald head, to his rotten teeth from all the drugs, down to his withering old body. The guy’s in his fifties, I think, but looks at least ten years older with one foot inching closer to his impending six-foot dirt fall every day.
The only reason he was promoted to VP is because he’s just as fucked up in the head and obsessed with getting back into the Legion MC as Ghost. I think my father knows how useless Ace has been, and is probably waiting on him to waste away, permanently. Ghost doesn't trust people, so removing Ace and putting someone new in the role is not on the table. Ace would have to really fuck up before that happens.
“I know you heard me. Now get the fuck inside, you’re late.” His lips pull back in a sneer, revealing a few black teeth.
Gross.
“Why?”
Ace steps closer to me and just my luck, the wind changes and I get a whiff of his body odor. My stomach clenches and rolls but somehow, I manage to keep my breakfast down. Seriously, half the people in this club look and smell like they crawled out of a ditch after rolling around in a pile of shit. Basic hygiene is a foreign concept to some people, and it sucks that the rest of us have to suffer because of it.
“What the fuck’s it matter?”
“Because I have shit to do.” I release the kickstand and get off my bike.
Some of us have real jobs where we’re trying to earn legal money. I have a shift starting in a few hours, and my plan is to go home and rest, seeing as how I was kept out all morning for a random bullshit ride. I only came back here to talk to TJ about some work I need done on my bike.
Meeting with the Cobra Kings MC didn’t require me or half the people that went. Ghost sent all of us to prove how big his dick is. Numbers speak volumes, and sending the ten of us teases how many more would be on their ass if they tried anything.
We weren't even there long enough for the seat on my bike to get cold. But the Cobra Kings have the access Ghost wants in order to complete this deal with Barns. Today was all about formality and laying out the details of the shipments and when money would be due.
“You got a smart mouth. Makes me want to cut out your tongue,” he says, pointing a dirty finger at me while retrieving his knife.
I cross my arms over my chest. All it would take is one hit to the face with my fist, and this fucker would drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes. His threats have no backing.
“Both of you get your asses inside. Now. Ghost is waiting,” Garvyn growls, heading into the warehouse.
I remain still. If they want me inside, Ace is going first. I don't trust this tweaker, and I also don't trust myself not to knock his ass out. The way his pervy eyes roamed over Poppy made me want to rip his head off, still do, but I knew if I’d shown any interest, Ace would’ve pursued her harder.
I shouldn’t have had to remind him of his status in the club and the fact we were out in public. Last thing Ghost would want, is for one of his officers to make waves in town involving the club and have it get back to the head of the Legion MC, Tennessee chapter. My father doesn't care what his members do as long as they don’t hurt his chances at redemption.
Long ago, I wished he’d put as much effort into our relationship as he did trying to get back into Legion. But then he fucked me over, officially killing any desire of wanting a relationship with him. The only reason I continue to stick around is because financially I can't leave right now. Hard to make enough money to start a new life legally when you’ve got a record.
“You heard him. Get going.” He mimics my pose, but instead of my scowl he’s wearing a pleased grin. When I still don't move, the smile on his face begins to fall. “You deaf?”
I continue eyeballing him, loving the play of emotion on his face as it changes with each second that passes. His hands drop by his sides, tightening into fists. I hold back a laugh. The day Ace and I throw punches at each other has been in the works for a long time. I’m giddy inside and wonder if the day has finally come.
“What the fuck are you two still doing?” Garvyn yells, popping his head back out the door.
I extend my hand motioning for Ace to lead the way. His jaw ticks and I wait for a tooth to crack, but nothing happens. He huffs, then turns—disappearing inside.
I follow at a distance, nodding to the various people milling around. Climbing the stairs to my father's office, I hear him yelling at someone. The closer I get, the more I want to turn around and leave. Dealing with him when he’s in a mood will be time consuming and exhausting. Two things I don't want to deal with right now.
“. . .Fine!”
Moving into the office space, I stand near the door, so I can be the first to leave.
“What’d they want?” Riggs asks, his voice gruff from years of smoking cigarettes. Out of all the officers, I tolerate Riggs the most. He’s the only one who doesn't talk to me like I'm a nuisance. He’s not much older than my father, but the hard life he’s lived sits like scars over his face and stocky body.
The man carries around a weighted guilt which is clearly eating away at him. The only thing I know about Riggs is he used to be a truck driver, hence the nickname. He spent some time in jail when he got caught transporting illegal goods for Legion MC. The police had been tipped off. I've heard whispers the deal had been a setup and he and a few others paid the price, a couple with their lives.
Asking people about their past is considered improper etiquette, though gossiping behind their backs is appropriate. Fucked up, I know, but shit is what it is. If you have stories being passed around about you, you’ve done something right and will garner more respect among the members, even if you’ve done some really bad shit.
“They want us out of here by the end of August.” Ghost tosses his phone on his desk. He leans back in his chair and stares at the ceiling.
“What’s the reason this time?” Garvyn asks, keeping his attention on the knife he’s using to clean the dirt from under his nails with. He pauses a few times to wipe the fallen dirt off his hairy chest and small gut.
“They want us in Tennessee but won't say why.”
“This is bullshit,” Ace complains.
“That fucker, Marcus, couldn't even call me himself. Had his dumbass secretary Bam Bam pass along the info.” He pushes out of the chair and curls his hands into balls.
“This is the third time in two years we’ve had to drop everything and move. Ever since Marcus became Pres, shit’s gotten worse for us.” Garvyn makes a good point while moving the knife to his other hand to continue his grooming.
Not much is known about Marcus. Got out of prison some years back and joined the Legion MC, Tennessee Chapter—the original club of the southeastern region. From there, he worked his way up, helped expand Legion MC into the other southern states. Now he sits as Pres of the entire region. Legion has become so big that they’ve divided it into regions across the US.
I place a cigarette between my lips and pull out my lighter, but don't use it. While they’re all pissed about moving again, my brain is meticulously sorting through ways on how I can use this to cut ties for good. I’ve got some cash saved, but now that I’ve only got a couple of months, I’m going to have to figure out how to pull in more cash and fast. Flipping open the metal lighter, I catch a hint of lighter fluid that disappears as soon as my menthol catches fire.
“Are they helping get us out there?” Ace asks, pacing in front of the desk.
My father lays his palms on his desk, bracing himself, head down, not saying a word. A few minutes pass before he looks back up, locking eyes with me. I arch a brow, waiting for him to spill what’s sitting on his tongue. Whatever it is isn't going to be what I want to hear, but now that my
goals are being rushed, I need to play nice with the devil if I'm going to escape Hell.
“I don't want anyone in this room running their mouths until we have things sorted. By tomorrow I want a full report of the jobs we have going on and where all our cash is at.” He flicks his gaze from Riggs, to Garvyn, to Ace, before landing back on me. “And you,” he points to me, “will be working on getting these jobs settled for us, seeing as how you’re not a complete dumbass and managed to follow directions last night.”
I scoff and roll my eyes. “Wasn’t fucking hard. It was a stupid-ass high school party.” And it wasn't a complete lie. The party sucked but I found Poppy entertaining. I’d say overall, it was tolerable to be there, given the amount of clothes people kept on.
“Watch your fucking mouth, cockblock.” Ace stops in front of me. Wow, his breath is horrible. Holy shit, I think I might vomit.
“Aww, is your tiny dick still sad? There’s plenty of old ass pussy walking around here that could spare forty-five seconds with you. Fucking perv, trying to pick up a girl who’s probably old enough to be your daughter.”
I shouldn't taunt him in front of Ghost, but I’m tired of this guy talking to me like I’m a child. I’d love nothing more than to smash his head against the wall and watch the blood run down his face.
Ace flinches, his tell right before he throws a punch. I smile, daring him to. Guy’s got hardly any muscle mass to give his throw any weight. I already know which way I’ll sidestep and the spot on his face where I want my fist to connect.
“Dragon. Ace. Take that shit outside.” Ghost slams his fist on his desk. “I'm not in the mood to deal with your bullshit.”
I smile wider at Ace, making sure to show him all my teeth—the ones he doesn't have. “We done here? I've got things to do.”
“Go. The rest of you stay.”
The plan was to take a nap, but I’m too pumped from the news. Time to start finalizing plans for where I’m going to go.
Dragon's Burn Page 8
