“That’s it, isn’t it?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“What the fuck am I supposed to say? Huh?” he growls.
“All this talk about being my man, and you’re fine with just ending things like this?” I ask.
I’m dumbfounded but not completely shocked, not after learning that his bed play isn’t just for fun, it’s part of him.
“It’ll never work. I want things and I can’t just turn that part of me off.”
Quietly, I climb back into the passenger seat and Johnny drives me back to the clubhouse. He instructs me to stay inside. A few seconds later, he’s back with my bag. I hold my shit together, surprisingly, as we drive the hour back to Sagle.
The taste of my fantasy come to life was everything I imagined it to be. Johnny was rough and rugged, yet gentle when I needed him to be.
He accepted me and loved my body for what it is. He taught me more about myself in the short time we were together than I have discovered on my own in nineteen years.
“I don’t want you to get out of the car,” he mutters as we pull into my apartment parking lot.
“I don’t want to either,” I confess.
“Then don’t,” he practically shouts.
“We will turn ugly and nasty. You’ll be unhappy that I won’t be what you need me to be,” I sigh.
“I know,” he admits.
I turn and cup his cheeks in my hands, feeling his stubble. I’m going to miss everything about him. From his rough strong features, to his cigarettes, to his lean body, and the way one look from him makes me feel like the most beautiful woman on the entire planet.
“I fantasized about you for three years. Everything with you was better than I could have ever imagined,” I whisper before I lean forward and capture his lips with mine.
I don’t open for him or take it deeper. I wrap my hand around the handle of my duffle and I open the car door. I walk away, without looking back. If I look back, I’ll cave. I’ll run to him and beg him to take me back to his clubhouse and fuck me until I expire.
He wanted me to be his and I am. But he can’t give me all of him. Until he can, I won’t lose myself for bits and pieces of the Johnny he allows me to have.
DIRTY JOHNNY
Hattie’s words ring in my head over and over again while I drive back to Bonners Ferry.
I fantasized about you for three years. Everything with you was better than I could have ever imagined.
I fantasized about her, too. Always. She was better than I imagined as well. Everything about her was better than I could have dreamed up myself. Yet in the end, I can’t promise her complete monogamy.
I fucked us up before we even started with my stupid, fucking, fucked up childhood. I wanted her and I told her she was mine. I thought it in my head, but she isn’t mine. Or maybe she is, but I’m not hers. I’m too fucked up to have her.
I drive straight to the clubhouse and walk directly to the bar. I tell the prospect to hand me the bottle and don’t bother with a chaser or with a glass.
We have church in an hour, but this bottle of jack won’t last long. I take a huge gulp and hiss as it burns my throat on its way down.
“Problem?” Sniper asks, taking a seat next to me.
“Just that I’m a fuck up.”
“Aren’t we all?” he chuckles.
“You got your woman and kids, don’t see how you’re a fuck up,” I grumble.
“Man, do you even remember the shit we went through? The shit I put Brent through?” he asks.
“Hattie’s young,” I announce on a slur. “She doesn’t understand that sometimes I need to add someone to my bed. It’s not a want, I’m not being a fucking asshole, it’s a goddamn need.”
“You think it’s a need,” he states. I look at him with wide eyes. “I thought I had that need too, man. I didn’t. Brent is more than enough for me. She handles my shit, even the fucked up stuff.”
“I need it, Sniper,” I say adamantly.
“Then you can’t have her. Honestly, you don’t deserve her. An hour in her presence and I can tell the kind of woman she is. Sure she’s young, real fuckin’ young, but I think she’s loyal. The way she looks at you, like you hang the fuckin’ moon? Brother, it’s something men like us don’t usually find in a good girl,” he says, shaking his head.
He’s right. Hattie is a good girl. She’s still a girl, but she’ll just keep growing into an incredible woman without a doubt. I want to keep her. I swore I wouldn’t let her go, and the first sign of possible trouble, I didn’t just let her go, I drove her home.
Fuck.
“I’m a fuckup,” I announce.
“No shit. But now you’re a fuckup who needs to be in church with the rest of us fuckups,” he smirks.
I follow him into church and I take my seat, noticing the extremely full room. This is an important meeting, and my head isn’t in the right space for it.
Fuck.
Total fuckup.
I look over at my normal seat and notice that it’s being taken by MadDog. I don’t even attempt to ask him to move.
Instead, I lean against the wall and I drink. If I need to vote on something, I will. But right now, all I can think about is the fact that I let the only woman I’ve ever craved walk away from me.
“All right, we’re here for a reason, and that reason is that the Bastards are back,” Fury announces.
We all stare stoically at him, waiting for the information he’s sure to give us; wondering if this means more war, more bloodshed, and more fear for the men with families.
“They’re lyin’ low for the most part, but they’ve already reached out to the Ruskies. My contact, Kirill, called me a couple of days ago and informed me that the Bastards had been in contact with him. They want to edge us out. They offered their services. Warned them that if they didn’t accept, then The Cartel would be back. Apparently, we didn’t take out enough of them. They still think they can get in and fuck us over,” MadDog explains.
“What’d the Russian’s have to say about that?” Fury asks, arching a brow.
“They’re solid. They’re happy with our labor and they ain’t goin’ anywhere. We provide them a multi- service of drugs and guns, nationwide. No way in fuck are they going to rock the boat on that,” MadDog says.
“How do we know that for sure?” Buck asks from somewhere in the room.
“Because they’re loyal and they don’t fuck over family,” Fury growls.
“Don’t bullshit me. They don’t owe us anything, especially loyalty. We do a job for them and they pay us. They could go somewhere else, and there’s nothin’ we could do about it,” Drifter, our VP, grunts.
“They could go elsewhere, but they won’t,” Sniper murmurs. “Family or not, they won’t fuck us over, not if it has anything to do with The Cartel. They hate them as much as we do, and no way in fuck do they want them coming back and trying to gain strength on the west coast again.”
“Snipe has a point. The Cartel fucked with them for years. They still haven’t been able to find even a quarter of their girls that The Cartel bought and sold. They wouldn’t help those assholes, no fuckin’ way. The Bastards are nothing but a nuisance to them,” Fury explains.
I cringe thinking about all of the Russian girls that were bought and sold into sexual slavery. It makes me sick to even think about.
“They’re gonna get tired of waiting,” MadDog murmurs.
“When they try and strike, we stop them. Put all the clubs on alert. Who knows where they’ll try first. We’re just going to have to stay vigilant. When we do runs for the Russian’s, we need more than two guys going at a time. We also need more eyes on the women and children until the threat is eliminated,” Fury suggests.
He’s not really suggesting, he’s ordering, but in a way where nobody can argue his point—he’s fucking crazy smart when it comes to leading his men.
“Lockdown?” Vault asks.
“Not yet. No need to hole us all up in here when we
don’t even know if there’s a credible threat or not,” Fury says. We all nod.
Then he tells us that between Sniper, Drifter, Torch and him, they’ll come up with new schedules for everyone, including guard duty for the Old Lady’s and kids.
There’s no timeframe on when it’ll end; it’s semi-permanent at this point. I could give a fuck. They tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Right now, all I want to do is drink and maybe get my dick sucked before I pass out.
“Dirty, do we need to get someone on rotation to Sagle for your woman?” Fury asks as guys start filing out of the room.
“Nope,” I state.
“You bringing her here, then?” he asks as he knits his brows together.
“Not my woman anymore, brother,” I announce before I leave.
I don’t give him a chance to ask me any questions. I have a mission: drink, blowjob, pass out. In that order.
Tomorrow—I’ll worry about that when it gets here. For now, I’m going to enjoy my night.
I wake up hours, maybe even days later. Serina is naked next to me, and I shove her off the bed as I stand.
“What the hell?” she mumbles.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I roar in her face.
“Calm down, limp dick, nothing happened,” she snorts as she stands and puts her skimpy shorts on.
“What?” I ask, rubbing my hand over my face.
“You drank too much, couldn’t get it up. I told you I’d stay until morning, then we could play.” She grins as she cups her tits and looks at me expectantly.
I watch her for a minute, feeling absolutely nothing. I don’t want her, and my cock doesn’t want her, either. I tell her to leave and I lie back down in bed, closing my eyes and thinking about Hattie. Her long, light brown hair, her sweet angelic baby face, and her small tits.
I miss her.
I want her.
I need her.
I don’t know why I do, I just do. She was made for me, meant to be only mine.
Now she’s gone.
I can’t even get pissed at her about leaving, either. It’s my fault. I let her walk out the door. Fuck. I drove her home and dropped her off.
She wants more of me then I can give her. I’d break her in a way that I don’t think she could ever be repaired if I pushed it. So I let her go; against everything inside of me, I let her go.
Chapter Thirteen
HATTIE
It’s been a week.
The longest week of my life, I think.
I haven’t seen or heard from Johnny, and I have no bites on the resumes I’ve littered the town and internet with, with the exception of the local bar downtown. I have one more week before my stressful situation turns dire.
If I don’t find work by then, I’ll have to crawl back home and beg my parents to let me move back in. Of course this will come with a gigantic I told you so speech, and I’ll most likely have to enroll in some kind of schooling, maybe even apply to a university somewhere.
If I have to do that, I’m picking somewhere on the east coast, away from them and away from Johnny.
I miss him, though—more than I thought possible, considering we weren’t together for very long. He worked his way inside of me, in my heart, my mind, and definitely my body. I ache for him.
It’s been a week, and I can’t get him out of my head.
I can’t stop from crying at night, wishing he was at my side, knowing that if we were together he may not be there anyway. I did what I knew was right for me, what was best for me, even though it hurts like hell.
I walk down the street to the diner in town, where Andy asked me to meet him. I wouldn’t have even thought about meeting him, except I’m hungry.
My cupboards are becoming pretty damn bare at the moment, with no hope of them being refilled anytime soon.
When I walk into the diner, I’m relieved to see that Andy is in his civilian clothes and not his uniform.
I’m extremely proud of my brother.
His job is a tough one; but sometimes, when he gets that uniform on, he thinks he’s in charge of everything, including me and my life.
“Hey,” he murmurs as soon as I sit down across from him.
“Hi,” I greet nervously.
“I’m a dick. I still think of you as twelve years old, scrawny and small, needing your big brother to protect you,” he begins. It makes me giggle.
I was so small and extremely scrawny. Andy protected me on more than one occasion and I was always extremely grateful for it. Still am.
“I knew you meant well, Andy, but you have to let me make my own decisions, even if they are mistakes,” I say with a sigh.
“Was he a mistake?” he asks cautiously.
“No, Johnny couldn’t be a mistake. I think maybe the timing just wasn’t right for us,” I say, trying to be as vague as possible.
“You’re too nice.”
“I need a job or I’ll have to go back to mom and dad’s. That will mean living under their thumb,” I confess, chewing my bottom lip.
“I shouldn’t have fucked with you like that, and I shouldn’t have allowed Willa to, either,” he exhales. “I’m sorry, it was another dick move on my part.”
“It’s over and done. Don’t worry about it anymore,” I shrug.
“Still, I’m really sorry. I could help you find something. Where have you applied?”
“Everywhere but the strip club. I got a call back from the bar in town,” I admit.
“You strip and I’ll beat your ass black and blue, baby sister,” he grunts as his face starts to turn red.
“I don’t have anything anyone wants to see, Andy,” I say lifting my shoulder, believing the words. “But I have a meeting with the owner of the bar in about an hour.”
It’s not something I want to do, work in a bar all night long, but it beats going back home. Plus, it’s the only line I’ve gotten.
It’s something I wouldn’t have considered a while ago, but something I’ll be happy to take now. I really, really, don’t want to move back home.
“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he asks, arching a brow.
“Why?” I ask tipping my lips in a half-smile.
“A bar, Hattie? They’ll eat you alive,” he grumbles. “Plus, you aren’t old enough, so you better just cross that off your to-do list for the day.”
“I can serve drinks there, can’t I?” I ask.
“Only in a restaurant, not in a bar,” he explains. I feel myself deflate.
We spend the next half an hour talking about our parents, and I promise to come to Sunday dinner this week, even though I really, really don’t want to.
It’s been a few months since I’ve seen mom and dad, and though I’m not their favorite child at the moment, I should still make the effort to see them.
Andy promises me that he’ll keep an eye out for work and send some my way if he can before we go our separate ways. I walk toward home, calling the bar and cancelling my interview as I go.
I’m deflated and defeated.
With a year’s worth of banking experience, you would think that I could find a job in town, plus the fact that our town is about the size of a postage stamp and I know just about everybody. But therein lies the problem.
I know everybody, which means they all know the reason I was laid off from the bank, and they’re all erring on the side of caution.
This also means they’re all scared that my big, badass, Notorious Devils non-boyfriend is going to somehow convince me to commit a crime of some sort.
Put all that together and that means that my parents also know, which means that Sunday dinner is going to be my own fresh slice of hell.
I slam my apartment door and throw my purse across the room. I’m pissed. Fucking pissed. I have no other choice but to leave town. Either going to college on my parent’s dime, or taking my stuff and just going, you know, without a car.
I slide down to the floor and I cry.
College it is.
> I’ll be miserable, but I’ll be fed. I’ll have a roof over my head, and I’ll be far away from Johnny and my temptation to take a bus to see him.
The temptation I have to agree to all of his terms, terms that would eventually rip me apart. But at least I’d have him for a little while.
I crawl across the room where I threw my bag and reach for my purse, pulling my phone out. Scrolling through the numbers, I find the one for him. He gave it to me our last night together. Lying in bed, wrapped in his arms, he said I needed to have it—just in case.
I stare at his name and number for at least twenty minutes, debating whether or not I should call him; needing to hear his voice, even in a voicemail greeting. It’s pathetic, how just a short period of him in my life has made me crave more and more.
In the end, I don’t call. I turn my phone off and walk over to the window, needing to just look beyond my apartment walls. There’s a motorcycle parked in front of the little clothing store that’s across from my building. My heart races at the sight of it.
Could it be him?
I watch as a man approaches the bike and my heart sinks. Long, black hair and a big, bushy, black beard. It’s not Johnny. I sigh and turn away from the window. Then I walk to my bed and crawl inside after stripping down to my bra and panties.
I sleep. When I do. I dream of Johnny.
I don’t wait for Sunday before I visit my parents—well, my father. I decide to call him and ask him to lunch on Friday afternoon, instead. He agrees, though he sounds less than thrilled. I can understand why. Rumors have been circulating around town, and my father despises rumors and gossip as a whole.
My family isn’t anything special in town. My mother is a secretary for the high school, and my father is a respected CPA. He’s in partnership with several other accountants.
I know part of his irritation stems from me asking him to break away during end of the year prep time. Though it’s only October, he’s still relatively busy with his small business owner and corporate clients.
“Henrietta,” my father’s deep baritone voice greets as I walk up to his table.
Notorious Devils MC Complete Collection: BoxSet Page 68
