He paused a moment, but there was no answering bubble to indicate she was typing, so he forged ahead.
The corps was a good fit for me. Semper fidelis fit my personality. Fits. Always faithful. Friends, family, my brothers in the club. Did I tell you that you get points for always calling it a club, and not a gang? That shit pisses me off. He was getting off track and he scrolled back up to reread her questions to make sure he answered all of them. Even the ones she didn’t know she was asking. When I got out, it wasn’t my decision. That was hard, too, like the corps didn’t want me anymore. My wife didn’t want me, my career didn’t want me. I didn’t even get on that damn website for a few years. By then she’d unfriended me, changed all her settings and deleted all the photos of us together. It felt like one more slap in the face, you know?
He hit Send and sat, staring at the screen in his hand. It seemed like forever before that little bubble appeared. It was only when he blew out the stale air from his lungs that he realized he’d been holding his breath, waiting. The bubble went away, then came back, that cycle happening twice more before her message appeared.
Oh, Alex. That’s terrible. She didn’t even wait to do it face-to-face, but EMAILED you? He could almost hear her outrage in that capitalized word and smiled. If anything at all was wrong while Martin was deployed, I held it close until he got home. I didn’t want to break his concentration, you know? He wondered if she knew she was echoing his typing style with the question at the end of a statement. Semper fi is more than words, it’s a way to live. That’s how I understand it, so the fact you were faithful doesn’t surprise me. It pleases me to no end, but doesn’t surprise. A warm sensation swirled through his chest at the idea he’d pleased her. I’m so, so sorry that I made you answer all these things, Alex. It’s so unfair of me, and you would have been within your rights to tell me to go jump in a lake. Thank you for not telling me to go jump in a lake.
He started typing a response when another message came in. Alex sat and stared at it for a moment. Then with a broad grin on his face, replied differently.
PS – I’d like to change my status someday soon. Winky face emoji.
This was a request he would bend over backwards to make happen for her.
How about tomorrow?
***
Amanda
She stood at the curb, hands clasped in front of her chest as she watched Alex ride up the street towards her. He never wore a helmet, but as usual, she saw one strapped to the seat behind him and smiled fondly at his thoughtfulness.
He rolled to a smooth stop right in front of her and shook his head. She could hear him chuckling at her excited reaction over the rumble of the bike. “You ready, honey?”
They’d ridden together at least once a week since she’d messaged him her request. The first time was terrifying and thrilling all at once. She knew now that Alex had taken it super easy on her that ride, because since then, they’d ridden on more challenging roads, and even on the interstate. She’d been afraid to look at the speedometer that day. As she’d gained confidence, he’d ratcheted up the length of the rides, too. Today would be another first, because they were supposed to join a group of his friends for part of the ride.
When he dropped her off two days ago, she’d asked him in as she always did, and he’d demurred, but with a different response than his standard, “Gotta get home, honey. Work tomorrow.” Two days ago, instead of the normal, he’d told her, “You still want me to come inside Saturday, I’m down for that.” From the look on his face, he’d meant more than those few words, which was how she’d taken it.
And now it was Saturday and she’d almost rather they not ride at all, skipping straight to the part where he came inside. But he already had the helmet loose, was handing it to her while he did something on his phone, and hadn’t killed the bike. All a clear signal that he was in a hurry for some reason, and she didn’t want to disappoint him.
Helmet in place, she put her hand on his shoulder as she stepped onto her pegs. Hers, because this seat behind him was hers, too. He’d told her at the start of summer that she was the only woman who’d ever ridden behind him, and in her mind, she wrote forwards in time to try and impose her wishes that she be the only one. Ever.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and snugged up to his back before calling out her, “Ready.”
What had started out as the most innocent of touches, a need imposed on her by safety’s sake, had turned into an intimacy she longed for. Hours spent with her thighs pressed tight to his hips, arms around him, and Alex giving her the protection of his body. This was what had led to her wanting him to come inside, wanting more, but he’d dragged his heels, capturing her fingers with his hand the one time she reached for his face. The only kiss that had passed between them happening that day, the beard-rough feel of his lips against her knuckles as he’d shaken his head.
He patted her leg and they were off, the bike jerking in a familiar way under them as he worked up through the gears, topping out a handful of miles per hour over the limit. She’d never felt unsafe with him, and knew the speed kept them moving with traffic, something she’d never considered important before. But a slow bike was a vulnerable bike, subject to being overtaken by a distracted driver.
Time passed along with the scenery, flashing by in a smear of greens and browns. More touchy-feely than normal, she noticed Alex kept rubbing and stroking her hands where they crossed his belly, fingers threading through and gripping, squeezing and then rubbing and stroking again. Almost as if he were trying to soothe her. Or himself.
He slowed, and she sat up to look around. They were pulling into a gas station where three bikes were already parked in front of the store. Butterflies struck hard then, and she felt unsure of herself for a moment before shaking it off. If he didn’t want me to meet them, he wouldn’t have invited me today. The men stood and started strolling towards them as Alex parked. “You want me off the bike?” He nodded, but she wasn’t certain if it was in response to her question, or in greeting to the men. Then he touched her leg, a soft stroke before holding his hand out. Answer enough, then, so she used that leverage to clamber off the bike.
“Brothers, this is Amanda.” Alex stood next to her, his posture stiff and uncomfortable. “Amanda, these are my brothers. Blade, Wolf, and Neptune.”
She nodded and smiled, aware of the measuring gazes on her. Then the man called Blade grinned broadly and she huffed out a surprised laugh because he looked delighted at something. “Damn, Monk, this girl’s too pretty for you.”
Alex hadn’t relaxed, still ramrod straight, so she bucked up her courage like she’d done the first time she’d texted him, and wiggled in against him, not stopping until his arm was over her shoulder. She threaded her fingers through his, like he’d done earlier, and gave him a squeeze. “Oh, he’s the pretty one. I’m pretty sure I’ve got the catch of the year here.”
Acceptance and appreciation flashed over the faces of the three men, followed by laughter. “Gas up, brother,” said the one called Wolf. “Then get your pretty lady back on the bike and let’s ride.”
***
Alex
Couldn’t have asked for a better day. He glided them to a halt at the curb, then changed his mind and swung back out into the street. Amanda’s fingers clutched at his shirt as he turned to ride up the drive and onto the flat pad just in front of her garage door. Might as well make a statement she can’t misunderstand. He’d already promised her things would change today, and with the way she’d responded, confidence and uncertainty in the same breath, he wanted to see where this could go.
She stood up off the bike, and looked at him, and just that had his dick perking up. Because, if the smile on Amanda’s face was any measure, she not only hadn’t mistaken his intent, she was still entirely on board with the idea. Then she parted her sweet lips and asked him, “Come inside?”
Alex took her in for a moment, fingers clasped in front of her belly, twisted into a complicated knot. Her b
ottom lip disappeared for a moment, then slowly released as she raked the flesh with her teeth. She’s nervous. As nervous as he’d been to introduce her to his brothers, his friends, his corps here at home. She’d met that challenge head-on, making it clear to everyone how she felt about him, and that had settled his gut. She fit, and his brothers knew it as well as he did.
Now, it was his turn to set her at ease. Alex got off the bike and stepped closer, shuffling until their toes met and she had to stretch her neck to look up at him. Gonna stay out here for this first one. What he wanted to do wasn’t something he was ashamed of, nothing he wanted to hide. So fuckin’ pretty. Fingers to her chin, he cupped her jaw in his palm and ghosted a caress over the apple of her cheek with his calloused thumb. So fuckin’ sweet. Then he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.
Amanda sighed under his touch, mouth moving against his, and she opened sweetly when he touched the tip of his tongue to her lips in gentle exploration. Minutes passed as he kissed her, as she kissed him back, as the stars turned and wheeled overhead, and something in the world clicked into place for one brief moment.
She was panting when he pulled back, and he was the same, breaths coming hard and fast. Alex smiled as she reached for the door.
He let her lead him inside, then closed the door firmly.
Epilogue
Amanda
“Baby, you ready?”
She smiled at her reflection in the mirror over the visor, then adjusted it slightly. Bright green eyes stared back at her from the back seat.
“Yeah. I’ll be right out.”
It had been four years since the ride that changed both their lives. Three years since they’d stood in front of friends at the courthouse and listened to the driest recital of vows ever conducted, something they still laughed at, making fun of the fussy man with the bowtie. And it had been only five months since she’d watched Alex openly weep as he cradled their newborn daughter in his arms, his expression full of wonder and love.
She’d asked him last night if he would rather she go to the cemetery by herself this year, then laughed when he sounded affronted she’d even make the offer.
“What? Oh, hell no. No, baby. Me and Marty are comin’ with.” He looked up from his position on the floor next to the cooing baby.
“I just know it’s not the most pleasant of days.” She shrugged.
“It’s an important day.” He winked at her then turned back to Marty and booped her gently on the nose, laughing softly when she squealed. “We’ll be there with you. Gotta see what you’ve added to the book.” His voice rose an octave. “Don’t we, pumpkin? Gotta see what Mommy’s done this time.”
She stepped out of the SUV and turned to face Alex, smiling and shaking her head when she caught him sniffing the baby. He claimed new baby smell was addictive, and if his behavior was any indication, the man might be right.
Amanda opened the rear door to retrieve the blanket and scrapbook, which was now overflowing with added pages to document their lives. Alex was right, she was always adding to the book. Her sleeve shifted and she caught sight of the revised tattoo on her wrist. A year and a half ago, after they’d decided to try for a baby, he’d held her hand as she went back to the tattoo artist who’d done the original. Now, the semicolon made up one edge of a continuous line drawn in the shape of a heart. Life and love goes on. She gathered everything and stepped back to close the door, staring across the roof at her husband, her daughter, her family—found and made with so much work and pain and love, and she couldn’t imagine not being here in this moment, right now.
“Alex?” He looked up, one eyebrow quirked. “Thank you for your service.”
A shadow flitted across his face and the muscles of his arms tensed as he held Marty closer. He still had dark days, but told her they were fewer and fewer, said she was his salvation, redemption at the end of a long, hard fight.
“I love you, Amanda Waterman.”
Part of her heart would always belong to Martin. Their lives had been too long entwined for it to be otherwise, and she wouldn’t give up a moment of the time she’d had with him. Alex, though, had helped her begin a new chapter in her life, in more than one way. She cradled the scrapbook to her chest.
After Martin had died, part of her had gone to sleep. The piece that always demanded more, that wanted to grow and belong, and love had lain dormant for years. Alex had woken her up.
Amanda and Alex were carving their own path, far different from anything she could have dreamed. Her own personal hot, tattooed biker wouldn’t have it any other way. He challenged her every day to look for the good. And when he needed her to, she pushed him, too. Good days or bad, they were all made better just by being together. She looked at him again to find his face still buried in the crook of their daughter’s neck. My bad boy.
“I love you, too.”
About MariaLisa deMora
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One Week
By Colbie Kay
Chapter One
Drifter
"You need to come home, Wade." Those words plague my mind as I listen to the voicemail repeatedly. My eyes close at the sound of her voice, the voice of the only woman I have ever loved. The one woman who was off limits.
Standing from the edge of my bed, I step out of my room to walk down to the end of the hall to bang on Hanger's office door with my fist. When he answers, I enter and hear him ask, "Drifter, what's up?"
"I wanted to tell you I gotta leave for a while." I keep my tone steady even though I’m fucking breaking inside.
His brows pull down as he leans back in his chair. "Do you need to take some of our brothers with you? Everything alright?"
Running a hand down my face, I speak the words that I have yet to accept. "My pop, he's dying.” Hanger’s features become somber before my very eyes, and I add, “I'll be fine on my own, but I need to pay my respects." I have to go see him. No matter what fucked up things I did as a teenager or as a grown man, my pop was always there for me. It’s weighing on me heavily that I missed the last few years with him because I fucking ran away from my problems.
"I'm sorry to hear that. If you need anything, let me know."
"Thanks, Prez.” Stepping out of his office, I return to my room and grab my bag before heading to my Harley.
*****
Millwood, South Carolina.
It’s been a few years since I last saw that city limits sign, and while it’s not really that much time spent away, it feels like a lifetime since I’ve been in my hometown. The small town life with less than a thousand people where everyone knows everyone wasn’t for me. I had bigger dreams, but when I ran, I found myself in Kansas getting in with the Satan’s Sinners. I always was the bad boy who hung with the wrong crowd. Women were drawn to me–even the one I could never have.
Pulling into my old stomping grounds, I shut off my bike and enter Joe’s Tavern, and my smile widens because this place hasn’t changed at all. Same worn pool table, same few wooden booths, same raggedy bar stools, and on the counter sits bowls of peanuts. I’m instantly pulled into the past.
"Uh...can I get a…uh...martini?" My eyes shoot up at hearing the voice I recognize all too well. Her almond eyes are shining, but her face is red and splotchy like she’s been crying. I don’t even work here, but Joe was busy so I’m helping myself to a beer.
“What’re you doin’ here, Jani?” Can’t hurt to help her too, right? I grab a glass and the bottle of gin. Setting the tumbler in front of her, I tip the bottle and the gin pours into the glass.
Her smile fades, and her brows draw down into a frown. "What are you doing, Wade?"
"That's the best martini you're gonna get in this place." I lean closer, my eyes playful. "This ain't high class, darlin', it's a biker bar. You want that fancy shit, then you came to the wrong place." I chuckle. “I’ll ask again, what are you doin’ here?”
She shrugs her shoulder. "I don’t wanna talk a
bout it. You know, we were once friends, Wade, and you're still the only one that gets away with calling me Jani." She takes a sip of the gin and smiles sadly, her perfect, white teeth showing slightly. “And still the one who can turn a shitty day better.”
Sitting on a bar stool, I shout over the music. "How can a man get a shot of bourbon in this place?"
Joe’s eyes dart around until they land on me, and he smiles before rushing around the counter and hugging me tightly. "Where the hell you been, Wade?"
After a few slaps on the back, he releases me. "Kansas for the most part. Just came back for my pop."
He nods. "Heard about that. Sorry." His hand tightens on my shoulder for a moment. Shifting back around the counter, he pours a shot of bourbon and slides it in front of me. "Shot’s on the house.” His elbows rest on the counter. “January's been all over looking for you. Guess she found ya'."
When I left, I ghosted into the night, never to be seen or heard from afterward. I didn’t say goodbye to anyone and took nothing with me as a reminder of what I was leaving behind. I thought maybe putting miles between her and I would relieve me of the torment, the guilt, and the forbidden love. While gone, I easily tucked all of that shit away, locking it deep inside, but returning here, a place with so many memories, the mere mention of her is bringing everything I tried to keep sheltered to the surface.
"Yeah, she did.” I lift one side of my lips. “Wasn't real hard considering I still got the same number."
He grabs a couple bottles of beer for other customers and uses his bottle opener to get the caps off. "Figured you'd show up sometime. No one can run forever. The past always comes back to haunt you.” His eyes cut to the door, and he adds, “Speak of the devil herself."
I follow his line of sight. My eyes land on none other than January Evans. Her long chestnut hair flows down over her shoulders, her plump pouty lips part slightly as her big brown, almond shaped eyes roam over me. The sight of her thick curves makes my cock twitch behind my zipper. How can she still have this fucking effect on me? She has always been the prettiest girl I have ever seen, the sexiest woman to walk the earth, and the only woman that was ever off limits. But one drunken night, I demolished those boundaries and have been a drifter ever since.
Twisted Tales of Mayhem Page 18
