Apex Of The Curve (Sacred Hearts MC Pacific Northwest Book 3)

by A. J. Downey

“What is it? What’s wrong?” I asked softly, turning his face back to mine gently with my hands when he looked away.

  “Nothing,” he lied and tried a smile, but it slipped away along with mine.

  “You know, I think I knew,” I confessed, and it was hard to say out loud.

  “Knew what?” he asked, clear blue eyes clouding with concern even as he softened inside of me.

  “That Charles was lying. I think I knew for a long time. A lot longer than I even want to admit to myself,” I said. Fenris’ arms tightened around me and I leaned back over them slightly to keep his face in view. “The vibe you’re putting off right now is the same,” I said, sorrow swirling in my breast. “You’re lying to me,” I murmured. “And I can’t tell you how much that hurts.”

  “Oh, shit. Babe, no. It’s not like that… It’s not like that at all.”

  “Then please, talk to me… what’s wrong?” I asked gently.

  He sighed, heavily, and said without looking at me, “This is nice. Probably the nicest thing I’ve ever had, but I can’t help but worry that I’m not the right kind of man for you.”

  “Why?” I asked, stricken. Of all the things to come out of his mouth, I somehow hadn’t expected that at all. I mean, Fenris was so… confident. Why on earth would he ever think something like that?

  “There are some things I can’t tell you, that I’ll never be able to tell you, you have to understand that.”

  I felt my shoulders drop in something akin to defeat. Secrets. I felt like I’d had my fill of secrets as of late… but something deep inside me, despite the instant misgivings, told me to hear him out.

  “Explain,” I urged, and he reached down to the floor and pulled the blanket up around my shoulders, tucking it around me to keep my warm as the struggle of what to say crossed his gorgeous features.

  “It’s the life,” he said finally. “We live by our own set of rules,” he said.

  “Like what?” I asked softly.

  “In a lot of ways, it’s simpler than what you live by as a citizen,” he said. “In other ways, it’s a lot more complicated.”

  “Give me an example,” I murmured, caressing the side of his face, temple to chin, down the side of his neck, along his collarbone, over the swell of his shoulder, down his arm. I couldn’t help but smile gently as he closed his eyes and at the wave of gooseflesh that erupted in the wake of my touch.

  I don’t think I’d ever affected someone so thoroughly before, and I really kind of liked it. I liked it a lot.

  “For example, violence is sort of a way of life for us. We don’t hide from it. We don’t shrink from it. A motherfucker needs his ass kicked; we kick it.”

  “Okay, hypothetically, why would a motherfucker need his ass kicked?” I asked and Fenris chuckled, touching the bottom of my chin with a crooked forefinger, pulling down on my bottom lip gently with his thumb at my language.

  “Kiss me with that dirty mouth,” he said and his voice was warm with a low, seductive heat.

  I kissed him gently, chastely, but leaned back up out of reach and arched an eyebrow expectantly.

  “A lot of reasons. Disrespecting me, one of my brothers, my property.”

  “What, like touching your bike or something?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Or you,” he said and I blinked, an abrupt laugh sneaking out of my throat before I could stop it, but on second thought…

  “I’m not your property, I’m a woman.”

  He smiled and nodded, giving me a little swat on the ass beneath the blanket.

  “My woman, for all intents and purposes at the moment,” he said.

  I softened a bit at that, a fission of anxiety trilling down my spine at his words. I mean, it sounded really nice, but it also sounded way too soon. I mean, wasn’t it?

  “What?” he asked cautiously at the expression that flitted across my face.

  Honest to a fault, I told him exactly what I was thinking. “You’re sure it’s not too soon?” I asked softly.

  He smiled and said, “There’s another good example. That’s you thinking like a citizen all the way. I don’t give a fuck what anybody else thinks, baby. You’re a treasure. Beautiful, gracious, smart, and kind. One touch from you soothes the rage and pain…” His hand slid along the side of my neck, fingers wrapping around the back, fingertips pressing and kneading at the spot at the base of my skull where all my tension, nervousness, and fear tended to hide.

  I closed my eyes as he worked some of those things out of me with gentle fingertips and basked in the warmth of his startling compliment.

  “What do you and the club do?” I asked softly.

  “A bunch of random shit, mostly legal. Some of it should be legal.” He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “A bunch of it I can’t and won’t tell you.”

  “I don’t like the idea of secrets,” I whispered.

  “It’s not about keeping secrets from you, baby. It’s about keeping you safe.”

  “Safe from what?” I asked, and put my hands lightly to his chest, pushing back just enough to let him know he had better answer that one.

  He breathed in deep, in through his nose and out through his mouth in a great sigh.

  “Arrest, mostly.”

  “You aren’t into anything serious like illegal drugs, are you?” I demanded.

  “Define illegal drugs,” he said carefully.

  “Meth, coke, heroine?” I listed the worst offenders off.

  He shook his head. “No, none of that shit.”

  “Illegal guns?” I asked.

  “Nope, none of those either,” he said, and he met my gaze, dead serious. “Most of what you would consider an illegal drug is shit we hold for personal use, and I’m talking shit like Molly, none of it in quantities that could get any of us busted for selling.”

  “You do it?” I asked, worried.

  He shook his head. “Nah, worst I do is weed to mellow out, and they legalized that shit so…”

  I nodded carefully. “You hurt people, though,” I whispered.

  “Only if they really fucking deserve it, but I’m not going to lie to you. Yeah.”

  “That’s really scary,” I confessed.

  “Why?” he asked, cocking his head, scanning my face, genuinely trying to understand.

  “What if you get mad at me?” I asked quietly and couldn’t look at him. He chased some of my hair behind my ear and turned me to face him, to look him in the eyes.

  “Never going to happen. I’ll go outside and break shit. Butcher some goats, maybe yell, maybe scream, but I will never lay a hand on you. If I did, my brothers would beat my fucking ass and rightfully so.”

  “They would?” I asked confused. “Why?”

  “Part of the club’s creed, the rules. No women, no children.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning we aren’t animals. We’re men, and we’ll act like men, no matter what anybody says or thinks of us. We know what we’re about. We don’t hit women; we don’t beat our children. Our vocab is a little different from the citizenry of the world,” he explained.

  “’Property’ isn’t just the land we own, or the house that sits on it. It’s the things we would die for, the things we would kill for. Our bike is our property because it represents our freedom. Our colors, likewise, set us apart and represent our love, life, and loyalty to and for the club. Our women, our children, are likewise our property. We would kill for you; I would die for you. Not a second thought about it.”

  I stared at him and he stared back, letting his words fill the silence that stretched between us.

  “It sounds sort of… romantic,” I murmured and he smiled.

  “Nothing real romantic about it since we’re being honest.”

  I asked again, “Explain,” and bit my bottom lip.

  “Society has their own ideas about us,” he answered. “Some of us, like my dad, got arrested. At any given moment, we could go away, do long stretches of time. That’s not easy on our women or kids. Believe me, I
lived it.”

  “Then why do you do it?” I asked.

  “C’mere,” he whispered, and I went to him. He put his arms around me and rubbed up and down my back through the blanket, cuddling me close. He sighed, hard, and said, “My dad went up on attempted murder charges,” he answered.

  “Oh, what happened?” I asked.

  “He was at a bar with a couple of other brothers. The Sacred Hearts, we have a reputation,” he murmured.

  “I know,” I whispered, and he chuckled.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” he said mirthlessly, “Not discounting you, not trying to be a holier-than-thou asshole about it, it’s just the truth. No matter what you’ve heard, the reality is likely ten times worse.”

  “Okay,” I said cuddling close. “That’s scary.”

  “Yeah, well, there are always some dumb motherfuckers trying to test their mettle with us, and that’s what happened with my dad, Herbo, and Deacon that night. Some dumb motherfuckers full of too much piss and vinegar decided to try the Sacred Hearts on for size.”

  “Okay,” I murmured.

  “So, the fight goes down, my dad lost his shit, stabs one of these assholes who just won’t quit with a broken beer bottle. The cops, of course, as always, take the side of the citizens and the prosecutors office, always with a hard-on for us, upped the ante on my dad from ‘assault with a deadly’ to ‘attempted murder.’ My pops rolled the dice on trial and rolled a one, got sent up for the max.”

  “Rolled a one?” I asked confused.

  Fenris laughed. “Yeah, don’t play D&D do you?” he asked.

  “Dungeons and Dragons?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “No. I think Copper did, but I didn’t really get into it. He and his friends were very ‘girls aren’t allowed’ and I was usually busy making things with my mom.”

  “Ah, well, your brother and his friends were full of shit,” he said. “D&D is for anyone who wants to play it, and one of the main things you do is roll a twenty-sided dice to figure out through some basic math how you did at any given action. To roll a one is to not only fail, but to spectacularly fail.”

  “Ah,” I said, thoughts churning. I had a lot to think about.

  A lot.

  Fenris fell silent, and we just held each other, cuddling, comforting. Finally, he broke the silence and asked, “What are you thinking?”

  “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I mean, I don’t really know if I can handle all of this, but I don’t want to just give up, either. I don’t want to just walk away.” I pushed off of him so I could look him in the eyes. “I care about you too much, too deeply, to just walk away now.”

  “Not going to lie to you, ever,” he said. “There will be times I just straight up won’t tell you things, but I’ll never lie to you, baby.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered, not knowing what else to say.

  “That being said, I care about you, too. I’ve never felt like this about any other woman before, ever.”

  “Ever?” I asked, breath stilling in my chest at the sincerity in his eyes.

  “Ever,” he said firmly.

  “So, what are you saying?” I asked softly.

  “I guess I’m saying it has the potential for it to hurt a lot less if you walked away now,” he said, and the words, they stuck in his throat. He swallowed hard to get past the lump that had formed there at the thought of me walking away now.

  I swallowed past the lump of fear in mine and took a deep breath, his clear emotion for me galvanizing my bravery.

  “I’m not going to do that,” I said, despite my fears.

  “Yeah? Can I ask why not?”

  “Yeah, and it’s because for everything you think can go wrong, what happens if everything goes right?” I asked, my inner optimist shining through.

  “Things rarely go one hundred percent according to plan, baby,” he said.

  “I would settle for sixty-forty,” I murmured smiling, bringing my lips to his. He kissed me back and pulled back reluctantly.

  “Can we maybe shoot for seventy-thirty? Or even seventy-five/twenty-five.”

  “Eighty-twenty?” I asked, and he chuckled. I felt him getting hard between us again.

  “I like those odds better,” he whispered. “You sure you want to take this ride?”

  “You talking this ride?” I asked grinding my hips. “Or an actual relationship?” I asked.

  “The latter,” he answered in a low husky growl.

  “We’ll see,” I whispered. “But I’m leaning toward ‘definitely yes.’”

  “I like those odds even better,” he said and wrapped his arms around me tight and stood up.

  I shrieked with laughter and surprise and he turned us both, laying me on the couch, rotating his hips and delving deep. My giggle turned into a moan.

  “Hang on tight, baby. Don’t ever let go,” he whispered and his words had weight and meaning, deep beyond their surface meaning.

  So deeply, I fell in love with this man, and his strange and many varied layers.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Fenris…

  “Hey, man. It’s good to see you.” I clasped hands with my brother and we pulled each other in, knocking shoulders.

  “How’re things going?” he asked, and I lifted one shoulder in a shrug.

  “We’ll see,” I said. “She’s citizen and I’m not sure this life would be good for her.”

  “We all have to start somewhere,” Little Bird said with a brittle smile. Her indoctrination into the life had been a trial by fire, for sure.

  “She’s a good woman,” I said with a half-smile.

  Dump Truck asked, “Well, where is she?”

  “She’s comin’,” I answered and looked back toward the house. “We gotta get her some gear.”

  “Oh, fun! Shopping!” Little Bird cried.

  “After breakfast,” Dump Truck said, and I grinned.

  “Black Diamond Bakery?” I asked.

  “Shit yeah,” Dump Truck answered.

  It was a beautiful day for a ride, skies high, clear, and blue. Leaves on the trees changing. Pavement was wet, but things were drying out. It was crisp, but not too bad. Perfect Pacific Northwest fall weather. Might not even need a jacket by the afternoon.

  “There she is,” Dump Truck grunted, and I turned around. There she was, alright. I smiled faintly. She did her best as I’d asked, but she was so not roadworthy in the safest sense of the word. Sneakers; not good, jeans which were fine, a thick sweater which would keep her warm but still not the best when it came to a slide, and a hooded L.L. Bean raincoat over that.

  “Need to get her some fuckin’ gear,” Dump Truck grated in disapproval and I chuckled.

  “I don’t disagree, you fuckin’ safety Nazi, but breakfast first, yeah?”

  “Renton?” he asked.

  “Do some research on what’s closest when we sit down to breakfast,” I said.

  “Hi,” Aspen said shyly when she reached us.

  “Hey, baby.” I took her under my arm and made introductions. “This is Dump Truck and this is his lady, Little Bird.”

  “Hi.” Little Bird smiled and raised her hand curling her fingers in a wave.

  “Nice to meet you, Aspen.”

  Aspen smiled up at DT and at Little Bird and asked laughing, “Is everyone in the club as tall as you two?” she asked. “Like is there some kind of a rule, you must be this tall to ride this ride?”

  We all laughed. “Naw, we’re the biggest,” Dump Truck said.

  “And the best,” Little Bird said with a soft smile that made Aspen’s grow.

  “Alright, you ready to get this show on the road?” DT asked.

  “Absolutely,” Aspen said with a smile, but I caught the tightness around her eyes. She was a little trepid about her first ride and I was just plain excited to have her on the back of my bike. I’d already given her the rundown, asked if she’d ever ridden before to which she’d answered when she was a teen, on the back
of her brother’s old Honda.

  This wasn’t going to be that, but I was going to let her find that out all on her own once we got going.

  I helped her into the lid I’d brought out for her. It was a little big, so I definitely put it on the list of gear we would get her today. Proper fit was important.

  I was excited for a couple of reasons. One, as much as I loved riding with Dump Truck and Little Bird, I’d always sort of felt like a third wheel on the occasions we took a Sunday ride or whatever. This time, I was glad to have a lady of my own pressed to my back. The fact that lady was Aspen, was all the better.

  I’d warned her about the rough parts of my world, but everybody’s world had those. All of them different, some of them higher stakes than others but all of them equally high in the eyes of the people who lived them.

  Just like with the bad, there was a lot of good. And one of the good things was the feeling of the ride. The wind rushing over and through you, the freedom and the feeling like flying. The excitement, the rush, the times you were a man on top of the world.

  I wanted so badly for Aspen to feel all of those things and to know it wasn’t always violence, grit, and mayhem. Just everything had its price.

  She got onto the back of my bike, behind me, and I started it up, engine rumbling, Dump Truck’s roaring to life just behind mine in a sweet, bass, rumble. We nodded at each other, me and DT, indicating our ready, and the girls tightening their holds on us, we let out the clutch and carefully wheeled around to leave, maneuvering carefully over the loose gravel and not for the first time I thought to myself, I really had to finish paving this drive around the fuckin’ farm.

  My pops and I made more progress every summer, but if I was gonna have precious cargo behind me, I needed to step up my game around here.

  We rode up through the hills around Auburn along the Auburn-Black Diamond road. It was a bit dodgy going around wet, fallen leaves in certain spots, but not too bad. I was way more anxious than I ought to be with Aspen behind me without her being properly geared up, but we would fix that as soon as possible. Dump Truck was right, though. We needed to eat first, and we wanted to show the girls a good time.

  We pulled up outside the Black Diamond Bakery and Café pretty much at the start of the Sunday rush. Church people coming in droves in their Sunday best, mingling with families from the surrounding area, that just like us, were looking for a decent breakfast and to get out of the house on a nice fall day.