by Romi Hart
He was a leader, not a father.
Kicking Shawna to life, he peeled out with the machine, his destination driving him to push the speed beyond the legal limit, though he refused to take a huge risk of being pulled over. They had a good relationship with the cops, but having just ridden in from a bloodbath, he didn’t need complications. Which was why most of the boys would be laying low at the clubhouse or going home to old ladies before they got toasted.
Maybe, if he played his cards right, he’d eventually be able to join the ranks of those with a woman waiting for him at the end of these long rides. The fact that it sounded like a good thing struck him as a surprise, but even this felt like riding home to his woman, and he didn’t even have a commitment, hadn’t set any sort of expectations with Regan.
His excitement grew as he took the stairs two at a time toward her door, saluting Mike, who was back on duty as he passed. And when Regan opened the door and smiled, his heart leapt with joy. Her bruises had faded, not visible in the soft glow of the porch light, and she looked fantastic, even in an old tank top and jogging pants. Her hair was piled messily on top of her head, and he wanted nothing more than to take it down and luxuriate with his hands running through it.
“I’m so glad you’re safe,” she said on a sigh, though she didn’t reach out to him.
“I was going to say the same thing to you,” he told her. He stood waiting, and she finally swung the door wide enough for him to enter.
Inside, he stopped and stared around the place. Boxes were stacked along the walls, and all the décor on the walls had come down. The couch and coffee table remained, as did the television on its stand and some random things around the rooms. Around the corner, he could see that the kitchen was in chaos, with boxes half packed in the floor and tons of pots, pans, dishes, and utensils strewn over the counters.
She motioned to the coffee table, where she’d spread out the food, Italian with various dishes and lots of paper and plastic. “Have a seat. Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
But Corey didn’t move. Something was very wrong, and it was more than the state of the apartment. Regan felt very stiff, a bit awkward. She was acting more like a hostess than the woman he was used to, who invited him in with open arms and a sense of shared space. “What’s going on here, Regan? What’s all this about?”
Shouldn’t it be obvious, he thought to himself? This was pretty much what you expected to see in an apartment where someone was moving in or moving out. And it clearly wasn’t the former.
Sighing, Regan brushed a hand across her forehead, as if drying sweat or moving strands of wild hair out of her eyes. “Can we sit down to eat and I’ll explain?”
Hesitantly and with great reluctance, Corey gave a single nod and took a seat on the couch, leaving more distance than usual between them. She seemed to have a bubble around her, and if he popped it by getting too close, he felt like she’d run and hide. So, he was cautious about avoiding touch or pushing too hard for answers. Something had changed in the four days he’d been gone, and he had a very bad feeling about it.
“I can’t stay here, Corey. With David having found me, and the fact that he attacked me right here in this apartment, I can’t run the risk of him coming back. I know you have people posted on me at all times, and they’ve been great,” she hurried in, stopping the protest he was about to launch. “But first of all, it’s not fair to have you allocating resources to me when you should have them working on something else. And second, I don’t want to have a babysitter. I don’t want to need one.”
Mulling that over and understanding, Corey nodded. “I understand. I take it you found another apartment, hopefully one with a gate.” She pursed her lips, looking like she was stopping herself from saying something, and Corey refused to let the truth sink in. He had to correct this before anything actually happened. This wasn’t what he’d come here for. He hadn’t wanted to hear something like this, and maybe, if he said or did the right thing, he’d stop it in its tracks.
“Better yet, you could live with me. My place is Fort Knox, Regan. You’d be safe there. And if you don’t want to live with me, I can stay at the clubhouse, and you can have the place to yourself, as long as you want.”
Dropping her head, Regan replied, “I appreciate the offer. But what if David followed me back from work? Or the store? What if he found me somewhere else and went crazy enough to hurt me there? You’d still have to have someone watching over me all the time. I can’t run that risk. It’s not just this apartment I can’t stay in, Corey. I can’t stay here.” She gestured wildly. “All I wanted was to put down roots, but I’m a firm believer in destiny, and the fact that David found me again, after all this time, tells me I’m destined to be a gypsy, a migrant.”
Corey was floored. He wanted to argue, wanted to ask what his destiny was, if it wasn’t to be with her. After all this time, avoiding women and relationships, and she’d still gotten under his skin. Seemed like destiny to him. But what the fuck did he know? He hadn’t even asked her to be his woman, hadn’t expressed his feelings for her, shown her the appreciation she deserved. So, she’d made her decision, determined what was best for her.
And hadn’t he just spent a lot of time worrying about bringing her into his lifestyle and putting her in worse danger than she already faced with her ex? No, he wouldn’t say anything to try and stop her. In a voice that he didn’t recognize, filled with regret and pain and loss, he asked, “How are you going to assure he doesn’t find you again?”
She shrugged. “I can’t be sure. But I can take extra precautions. I change my number, close my bank account and credit card, change my name.”
She looked miserable about having to take so many steps, and Corey nearly offered to hunt the bastard down and take him out. That would solve everything. But she’d shut that idea down before, and now, even in a rational state of mind, she had decided moving was a better idea. Walking away from any possibilities between them were preferable to the monster chasing her getting his own.
It put a lot into perspective for Corey, and he snapped his mouth shut, swallowing hard. It was a huge pill to swallow, but he had to tell himself that he’d obviously read more into this thing between them than she had. And he wasn’t about to throw himself at her feet and beg. He was a bigger man than that, had more pride, even if it was bruised and his heart crumbling.
“If that’s what you want, or what you need, then so be it. I wish you the best. I support you in any decision you make for your own safety.” He stared at the coffee table, where the delicious food was growing colder by the second, and suddenly, his appetite died. His stomach curdled and churned angrily at the scent, and he couldn’t imagine putting a single bite in his mouth.
“This doesn’t reflect on you, Corey. You’ve been wonderful. I’ve enjoyed every moment we’ve spent together, and you’ve been my rock through this disaster. You’ve kept me from having a complete meltdown over it and given me the space to think by having me guarded,” she explained quietly. “And I promise you, I’ve moved all your appointments to the best in our clinic. She’ll take good care of you and pick up where I left off. But I won’t let David get the best of me, and he’s done a good job of staying off the radar. The police haven’t seen hide nor hair.”
Corey was willing to bet, if he sent his boys out, they’d have the jackass in less than an hour, but he didn’t say it. He also didn’t mention that no one could pick up the pieces of his heart where she had just dropped them. What good would it do? Regan didn’t want to continue thing with him. He was ‘a rock’, not a lover. So be it.
Forcing a smile he didn’t feel as his chest caved in, he told her, “I’ll always be here for you, Regan. You know how to reach me if you need me.” Frowning, he reached into his pocket for his phone, feigning a text had come in. “Shit, I have to go. One of my guys broke his leg in this run, and there are some complications. How long before you leave?” He nearly choked on the last words.
“A couple of days. Y
ou’ll forgive me if I can’t leave you any information about where I’m going or anything. I hate it.”
“I get it,” he told her, nodding and standing.
“I wish you didn’t have to go,” she said, showing a sign of vulnerability as she stood to let him out. Her lower lip trembled slightly, and Corey wondered if she was scared he’d pull her tail or upset at parting ways.
“I know, and I’m sorry. But some of us made it by the skin of our teeth, and I have to make sure all the loose ends are tied up nice and neat. I’ll make sure someone stays on you till you leave. Just wave them off when you get ready to pull out of town.” He hugged her quickly and skipped down the steps, not looking back. If he did, he’d lose all the willpower he was using to keep going and not beg her to stay. He’d said his goodbyes the best he could. It was time to move on and go back to the status quo.
14
“Last day, huh?” Lena asked as Regan hauled her massage table into the lobby, preparing to pack all her things in the car. “I’d ask if you were going to miss us, but something about moving to the Bahamas tells me not to bother. I’m insanely envious, by the way.”
Regan smiled at her, not feeling quite as excited as she wanted. If only she was actually moving to the islands, it might be worth the effort. But it was just a cover story. She couldn’t exactly tell Lena the truth and have her spreading it across the office. “Yeah, it’s going to be quite the effort to move, though. I’m leaving behind a lot.” Including Corey, which was the hardest thing to do.
As if reading her mind, Lena told her, “Yes, I noticed your biker boy didn’t show for the new appointment with Liv. And he didn’t call to cancel, either. Not like him. He must be reeling and devastated over you.”
The chastising tone did nothing to ease the announcement. Surely Corey hadn’t missed the appointment that was so vital to his physical health over emotional trouble. After all, when she’d seen him two nights ago, he’d walked away far more easily than she’d imagined he would. He didn’t even argue or make a case for her to stay once he’d understood her full intentions.
She’d thought he was falling for her, but she’d apparently envisioned a lot that wasn’t actually there. And since he’d never said as much, she should have known they weren’t together, that he wasn’t falling for her. She’d had so little experience that didn’t involve a dominating, abusive man that she didn’t know the difference between mutual affection and one sided manifestations.
“Did you try calling him?” Regan asked, feigning moderate disinterest. “Maybe he forgot.”
Lena rolled her eyes. “You and I both know he doesn’t forget his appointments. But yes, I called. And I got voicemail.”
“Did you ask Byron?” The guard outside had grown so used to her schedule that he didn’t pay much attention to what was going on, other than to make sure no one suspicious or who matched David’s description came near. But Regan assumed he knew what was going on with the rest of the Devil’s Flames.
“He just shrugged and said, ‘the prez doesn’t share his business.’” She mocked the deep, Rocky Balboa tone of Byron’s voice, and it would have made Regan laugh, had she not suddenly been insanely worried. Even Corey, who was a private man with a penchant for doing his own thing, wouldn’t have gone off the grid like this unless something was wrong. And part of her thought maybe she’d caused more damage than she’d intended by being so abrupt in her decision.
The trouble was, she would never have been able to get through the explanation and go through with the move if she hadn’t been almost cold to him. She had to push him back enough that she could guarantee she hadn’t hurt him, to make him believe she didn’t care for him the way she did. If he thought for one second that Regan had feelings for him, and he felt anything for her, Corey would have fought tooth and nail for her to stay, and she would have given in.
Now, though, things had changed. No one knew where Corey was, and he hadn’t bothered to cancel his appointment. The last time he’d been a no show, he was in the middle of some nasty club business that meant life or death. This time…
No, Regan wouldn’t think about that. She had to consider her own life and livelihood, and she’d already rented out a space in a large apartment in Provo. It was a temporary stop, one she could use to get her identity together so she could find a place in her new name down the road. But it was safe, and it was large enough that she only needed a small storage unit, which she could also rent for cash with no paper trail. She was leaving in the morning.
Which gave her a few hours tonight to check on Corey.
She told herself it was friendly concern, and he would understand that, too. That he would appreciate her making sure he was safe, the way he had done for her. But really, she needed to see him one more time, the gesture selfish. If would relieve her of her guilt, and it would put a fresh image of him in her mind to remember him.
She considered sneaking out the back of the clinic, out of Byron’s sight, but she’d promised Corey she would never skip out on her tail. So, instead, she strode out, hauling the massage table with her, and let Byron load it into her trunk while she ran back in for her bags and a final goodbye to Lena. Then, she told him, “I need you to lead the way.”
He scowled at her. “What are you talking about?”
“To the clubhouse.” She hadn’t been there and wasn’t quite sure how to get there, but she didn’t need an address and GPS. She had a member of the Devil’s Flames to guide her.
He sighed and shook his head. “This is a terrible idea.”
She shrugged. “I’m going, one way or another. I just want to say goodbye to Corey before I leave.” If she was lucky, maybe she’d run into Rory there and be able to tell her a nice goodbye as well.
She wasn’t surprised by the outside of the clubhouse. It was a large, nondescript building with a corrugated metal roof, surrounded by motorcycles in various states of repair, parking in the brown Texas dust, and there was a workshop in the back that had dull and shiny metal parts strewn about. The front door was slightly ajar, and she opened it and entered, not waiting for Byron’s okay.
Several men’s heads turned from tables covered with beer bottles or cards and from bar stools and billiards tables. There were women, too, and she was a bit taken aback. It didn’t look much different than any other bar, maybe cozier and a little in disrepair. But it wasn’t dark and dingy, and it seemed natural to be there, especially as she spotted a familiar face across the bar.
Not Corey, but at least someone she could talk to. She continued through the space, ignoring all the stares except the pair of eyes she focused on, a shorter woman with perfect little curves and a slightly upturned nose. “You’re the nurse friend of Rory’s,” she stated.
The woman nodded and slid out of the grasp of the man beside her, standing and showing herself to be almost a head shorter than Regan. “Leigh. I’m Leigh. And you are?”
“My name is Regan. I was looking for Corey, but I don’t see him here.” She glanced over at the man beside Leigh, whose eyes sparked before he narrowed them.
“That’s because he’s not here.” The man’s gruff voice wasn’t exactly welcoming, and Regan wondered how much Corey had talked about her, what he’d said, and if this guy knew she was skipping town. It would confirm her suspicions that she’d hurt Corey more than she’d thought.
“Do you have any idea where he is or when he’ll be back?” she asked, desperate for some information. She didn’t want to stick her nose in club business, but she had to assure herself that Corey was alright. It was a compulsion now.
“What do you care?” the man asked.
But Leigh turned and gave him a scathing look. “Shut up, Zeke. What if I came looking for you and one of the guys spoke to me like that?”
Looking properly chastised, Zeke grumbled something under his breath and walked away. Leigh sighed. “Have a seat and don’t mind him. He’s grumpy because he didn’t get to go on this ride. He had to stay and hold down the for
t.”
Sliding onto a bar stool as Leigh hopped back up on hers, Regan asked, “So, is that where Corey is? He didn’t call to reschedule his massage appointment, and that’s unusual for him.”
Leigh rolled her eyes. “A massage therapist doesn’t come all the way out here to check on her patient. But to answer your question, yes. They had some…trouble on their last ride, and they had to track down a guy who nearly got them all killed with his big mouth.” She shook her head. “It’s not a big deal. But I’m assuming you’re the girl that’s leaving town.”
“I guess,” Regan muttered, averting her gaze. Great, so everyone knew about her. That could make thing difficult, keeping her business under the radar.
“Don’t worry, any information that’s spoken in this clubhouse stays here. And if anyone rattles off at the mouth, they pay the price. I only know because Zeke tells me everything, and he’s been worried about Corey the last couple of days, since they all got back. He sort of pulled it out of the guy.”
“Why is he worried?” Regan didn’t think she wanted to know, but she couldn’t help asking.
“Because Corey doesn’t get depressed. He doesn’t hide himself away. He doesn’t put on a fake smile. And that’s been his disposition the last couple of days. I reminded Zeke of how he acted about me, and Zeke told me Corey has never been whipped before.” Leigh snorted. “I thought it was funny that Zeke admitted to being whipped.”
Whipped? Regan had a hard time imagining that to be the case. “He walked away so easily. He acted like he didn’t care if I left. I don’t think he’s whipped.”
“Honey, I’ve never seen Corey give a woman the time of day. So, something about you has him all sad puppy.”
Well, if that didn’t awaken a sense of guilt in Regan, nothing would. Her heart ached, and she had no idea how to address it. “He doesn’t need me. That’s obvious. He has all of this.”
“Yes, he does,” Leigh conceded. “He has a band of brothers who will never turn their backs on him or abandon him. They’ll argue their points, but they take his word as law and would follow him to the ends of the earth and back, would fall into the grave beside him to protect him, this family, and the women and kids. But he’s never had someone at home to support him.”
