My Hero, page 3
The ride back to the clubhouse was quiet, the tension palpable in the air. I glanced over at Poppy, noticing the haunted look in her eyes as she stared out the window. She was probably reeling from seeing her apartment torn apart. I hadn’t expected her place to be luxurious, not in that part of Mt. Pleasant, but I had assumed it would be better than what I saw. Sure, it was trashed by whoever had been looking for her, but even beneath all that mess, it was clear her living conditions were far from ideal. Poppy’s financial struggles weren’t news to me, but I hadn’t realized they were that dire. I hadn’t dared to peek into her fridge, but I could imagine it was probably bare.
“Uh, I should have brought my blanket with me,” Poppy spoke up, her voice hesitant.
I glanced at her, puzzled. “Why?” I asked, wondering if there was some sentimental value attached to it.
“So I have a place to sleep,” she explained softly, her eyes downcast.
I pulled into the parking lot of the clubhouse, the familiar sight of motorcycles lining the spaces. As I parked the truck, I turned in my seat to face Poppy. “Do you really think I’m going to shove you on the floor with no blanket to sleep on?” I asked incredulously.
Poppy’s gaze flickered to the floor, her expression pained. “I don’t want to be a bother, Yarder. I’ve already messed things up so much and—”
“Stop,” I interrupted sharply, my frustration bubbling to the surface. “Stop right there if you think that little of me, that I’m going to punish you for what happened and make you sleep on the floor like some wild animal.” It infuriated me that Poppy saw me as some sort of villain, as if I would stoop so low as to mistreat her for something that wasn’t her fault. Gibbs and Boone would have found another way to get to the club even if they hadn’t approached Poppy. None of this was her fault. “You and I need to get something clear here and now,” I continued, my voice softer but no less firm.
Poppy looked up at me, fear reflecting in her eyes. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“I do not blame you for what happened,” I asserted, my tone leaving no room for argument. “It wasn’t some random occurrence. The club has some real bad guys coming after us right now, and I know you are not one of them.”
“I’m not,” Poppy vowed, her voice steady with determination.
I nodded, acknowledging her words. “And I need you to know I’m not some villain who’s going to make you sleep on the floor, cowering in the corner in fear.” I took a deep breath, trying to convey the sincerity of my words. “I can’t go into everything the club is dealing with, but I need you to know that the safest place for you to be until all of this blows over is right here.” I pointed to the front door of the clubhouse. “You’re safe in there. You’ll have a bed to sleep in, a TV to watch whenever you want, people to talk to, and three meals a day.” I paused, a wry smile tugging at my lips. “Kind of sounds like a prison when I put it that way.”
Poppy laughed softly, her tears glistening in the dim light of the truck. “It actually sounds like heaven to me.”
It would. I wasn’t offering her some kind of paradise. I was offering her basic human decency, and yet she saw it as heaven.
Damn it, if this woman didn’t tug at all the strings of my heart, making me want to save and protect her, no matter the cost.
“It’s not heaven, babe,” I replied softly, my voice tinged with emotion. “It’s just what I call home.”
Poppy
They were so nice. Every last one of them.
Walking into the clubhouse, I couldn’t shake the feeling of apprehension that gripped me. Yarder had assured me that he didn’t blame me for the explosion, but I couldn’t help but wonder if the rest of the club felt the same way. After all, Olive’s friend was missing, and that could very well be because of the explosion.
As soon as we entered the clubhouse, everyone seemed to descend upon us. Yarder stayed by my side, helping to field the barrage of questions and concerns that were fired at us.
“Are you hungry?” Dove’s voice broke through the chaos, snapping me out of my stupor.
“Oh, uh, well, I guess I could eat,” I replied, my stomach rumbling in agreement.
“She’s hungry,” Yarder interjected, taking charge. “Order pizza or something,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“You order the pizza, and I’ll see what snacks we have in the kitchen,” Sloane called from the bar. “I told Aero we needed to get to the store this morning, but we never got around to it. I’m sure we’ve got something I can scrounge up.”
“Do it,” Yarder commanded, his voice brooking no opposition.
Sloane saluted him playfully. “Yes, sir, biker man.”
Yarder grabbed my bag from me. “I’ll show you to your room, babe.”
“I can do it,” Olive offered, stepping forward.
But Cue Ball put his arm around Olive and pulled her to his side, subtly shaking his head.
“I got it,” Yarder grunted. “Figure out the food.”
“Okay,” Olive squeaked, clearly intimidated.
Yarder led me out of the common room and down a hallway lined with doors. “These are all bedrooms?” I asked, glancing around.
Yarder grunted in affirmation. “For the most part,” he confirmed, pointing to a door at the end of the hallway. “That door is church.”
“Church?” I echoed, my confusion evident. What kind of biker clubhouse had a church? Was I missing something?
Yarder glanced back at me. “It’s where we have meetings, babe. We call it church. It’s where all the private shit happens.”
I nodded, trying to process this new information. “Got it. No bibles and hymns, then.”
We passed a few more doors until Yarder stopped at one. “You’ll be staying in here,” he announced, unlocking the door with a set of keys.
I stepped inside and took in the room. There was a queen bed against one wall, a large TV mounted on the opposite wall, and a plain dresser in the corner. A doorway led into a bathroom, and a closet stood opposite the bed. A couch sat against another wall. It was spacious and somehow homey even though it was sparely decorated.
“This is nice,” I commented, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. Everything I needed was right here in this room.
“It’s okay?” Yarder asked, looking at me expectantly.
I smiled, feeling grateful. “It’s pretty damn perfect,” I admitted, my eyes sweeping over the space. Yarder had seen where I lived before, and compared to my dingy apartment, this room felt like a luxury.
Yarder leaned against the doorway, a small smile playing on his lips. “There’s one thing, though, babe,” he began.
I looked at him, wondering what could possibly be wrong now. “What’s that?” I asked, bracing myself for bad news.
“This is my room,” he explained.
I furrowed my brow, not understanding what the problem was. “And?” I prompted, confused. There was a comfy-looking couch and a bed. I was fine sleeping on either one of them.
Yarder gestured towards the couch. “I’m okay with sleeping on the couch. This will be your space for the most part.”
I blinked in surprise, feeling a rush of gratitude towards him. “That’s more than okay with me,” I assured him, relieved that I wouldn’t be imposing on his personal space. “But you can have the bed. I don’t mind sleeping on the couch. Though I should have brought my blanket with me.”
Yarder chuckled at my comment. “I’ve got blankets for you, babe,” he added. “I’ll be the one sleeping on the couch. I’m not in here much other than to sleep a few hours every night.”
I looked around the room, noticing no trace of Yarder’s presence. “You couldn’t even tell this was your room,” I remarked, walking over to the dresser and opening a drawer. “Ope, there you are,” I whispered.
“You talking to my underwear?” Yarder teased, earning a laugh from me.
I blushed and quickly shut the drawer, feeling embarrassed. “I was just trying to find some trace of you in this room,” I confessed, feeling foolish. I hitched my thumb toward the dresser. “Found you in there.”
Yarder tossed my bag onto the bed. “Take however much time you need to unpack,” he offered. “I’ll let you know when the pizza gets here.”
Yarder had carried my bag for me, and he had to know there wasn’t much in it. “Uh, I won’t need much time to unpack, but it would be nice to take a shower,” I admitted, feeling a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over me. I had managed to give myself a half-assed wipe-down in the hospital bathroom, but I would love to just stand under the hot water and have it rain down on me before passing out on the bed.
Yarder nodded towards the bathroom. “Have at it, babe. I’ll bring you food when it gets here.”
“Thank you!” I called out as he turned to leave.
Yarder glanced back at me and nodded. “Whatever you need, Poppy.”
I closed the door behind him and let out a shaky breath. The shoe hadn’t dropped off the other foot after all. For the time being, I was safe. And with Yarder by my side, I felt safer than I had in a long time.
Chapter Six
Yarder
The air in the clubhouse was thick with tension, the weight of recent events hanging heavy over us like a shroud. As Olive, Sloane, and Dove busied themselves in the kitchen, preoccupied with snacks and the impending arrival of pizza, the camera crew trailed after them, capturing every movement.
Meanwhile, gathered on the couches by the TV, the rest of us - Aero, Cue Ball, Throttle, Dice, Fade, Compass, Stretch, Smoke, and Pirate - engaged in hushed conversation, mindful of the girls and the cameras nearby.
“You sure you don’t want to go to church?” Aero’s voice cut through the quiet, drawing my attention.
I shook my head, leaning forward toward the coffee table. “Here, it’s fine. It’s not like you guys haven’t told your ol’ ladies everything that’s going on anyway.”
Cue Ball shrugged, his expression grim. “Kind of hard not to tell them when shit is blowing up all around them. I’d be kind of worried if Olive wasn’t asking questions.”
Olive, Cue Ball’s ol’ lady, was never one to shy away from seeking answers, especially with her son, Rocky, often at the clubhouse.
“Yeah, if Olive wasn’t asking questions, you know Rocky would be,” Dice chimed in, a hint of laughter in his voice.
Cue Ball nodded in agreement. “He’s a smart kid. I know he’s aiming to be the next prez once Yarder gets out of his way.”
I chuckled, shaking my head in amusement. “The kid can have this prez gig as soon as he’s eighteen. All this shit the past couple of months is pushing me to an early grave.” Between dealing with Boone and Gibbs’ schemes, finding Faye, and confronting her abusive ex, I was in dire need of a vacation far away from the chaos of the Iron Fiends.
But there was no time for rest. We needed to get down to business.
“What are they saying about the garage?” I inquired, shifting the focus back to our current predicament.
“It was the car,” Compass stated matter-of-factly. “Had a fuck ton of explosives wired to the fucking axle. Had a timer on it and blew right when they wanted it to.”
“Yeah, well, those fuckers were wrong thinking the garage was open over lunch,” Dice grunted in frustration. “Didn’t do enough research to find that out, did they?”
Compass rolled his eyes. “Cops are looking into who wired the car, but I’m assuming they aren’t going to come up with much since the car is registered to Poppy and she is the one who brought it in.”
“They want to talk to her,” Aero added, his tone serious.
I sat back, weighing the implications. “We can’t dodge the police. The more we do, the more they are going to want to talk to us. They talk to Poppy; she tells them nothing more than some guy offered her a lot of cash to bring the car in, and that’s it.”
“But you don’t think the cops are going to be really sniffing around here, then?” Fade interjected, concern in his voice.
“Either way, if we do or don’t talk to them, they are going to sniff around,” I replied firmly. “We keep talking to them so we stay in the loop of what they know, and keep what we only know to ourselves.”
“Are we going to point them in the direction of Boone and Gibbs?” Compass asked, his brow furrowed.
I shook my head decisively. “No. They wouldn’t believe us. Saying the US attorney general and his predecessor are trying to frame and kill us is just going to make us look crazy.”
“True that, brother,” Fade grunted in agreement. “I barely believe this shit.”
“That’s because this is all fucking crazy,” Pirate chimed in. “I didn’t have ‘be the target of some political bullshit’ on my bingo card this year.”
Turning to Compass, I inquired about Faye’s whereabouts. Her sudden disappearance had added another layer of worry to an already volatile situation.
Compass shook his head solemnly. “There is literally no trace of her. I’m talking; all her clothes are gone.”
My heart sank at the news. Faye, battered and bruised, had vanished without a trace, leaving behind only questions and uncertainty.
“She had to have made it out of the garage before the explosion and then took off during all of the chaos,” Compass speculated, his voice tinged with frustration.
“Or her asshole ex took her,” Cue Ball suggested darkly. “Olive swears up and down that Faye would not have taken off without giving her a heads up.”
“The easiest way to figure out if she left on her own or if she was kidnapped is to get our hands on Anthony. Any luck?” I turned to Compass and Fade, hoping for a breakthrough.
But their expressions told me everything I needed to know. “Nothing yet,” Compass admitted, his frustration palpable. “Fade and I were going to touch base with some contacts yesterday, but we’ve been a little busy.”
I nodded grimly. “Well, get unbusy and find the scumbag. If we know for sure that Faye left on her own, then there isn’t anything else we can do for her.”
“She was dealing with shit after finding out Anthony was the one responsible for the gym explosion. Maybe she just needed some time away to clear her head,” Dice suggested optimistically.
“The least we can do is take care of Anthony, so we don’t have to worry about him going after her again if she did take off on her own,” I affirmed, my resolve hardening.
Compass and Fade nodded in agreement, their determination matching my own. “You got it, Bossman,” Fade assured me.
Shifting gears, Smoke brought up the pressing issue of the garage. “What about the garage? We’re losing money each day; we’re not pushing cars out.”
“I gotta get a call in to the insurance, and then we’ll move forward with the rebuild,” I replied, mentally calculating our next steps. “Until then, just keep your pockets tight, fellas. I’m hoping we’ll only be down a couple of months, but it’s really going to be up to the insurance.”
Thankful for the foresight of insuring the clubhouse and garage, I silently cursed the setbacks that had brought us to this point.
Stretch then raised the topic of Dove’s missing father, prompting Throttle to respond. “Nothing, and we haven’t seen anything about him on the news, so Dove is hopeful his plan of just lying low is working.”
“Have her get in touch with him in a couple of days,” I instructed Throttle. “We are going to need to talk to him again to see what info he can give us on Boone and Gibbs.”
Throttle nodded in acknowledgment. “You got it.”
As the weight of our conversation settled over us, I sighed heavily. “I think that’s it then.”
With all the talk going on, a small beacon of normalcy emerged as Sloane announced the arrival of snacks.
“We’ve got snacks!” she called out, drawing our attention away from the burdens of our reality, if only for a moment.
The atmosphere in the clubhouse shifted as the girls approached, bearing trays laden with snacks fit for a king’s feast. Crackers, cheese, and a generous assortment of sliced meats adorned the platters, enticing us like starving wolves. Without hesitation, my brothers and I descended upon the food, our hunger momentarily overpowering the weight of our troubles.
I managed to snag a plate and fill it with some of the savory offerings, mindful of Poppy’s preferences. With the plate in hand, I made my way down the hallway to her room, a space that technically belonged to both of us.
But the sight that met my eyes was not what I anticipated. Instead of the sound of water cascading against the tiles, the room was filled with silence, broken only by the soft rhythm of Poppy’s breathing. She lay sprawled across the bed, fully dressed, her form illuminated by the soft glow filtering through the window.
Approaching her bedside, I set the plate of food down on the dresser, my gaze lingering on her peaceful form. Despite the bruises marring her delicate features, there was a serene beauty to her slumber. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, a stark contrast to the tumultuous world outside these walls.
In that moment, as I stood by her side, a sense of calm washed over me. The worries and burdens of the club, the dangers lurking in the shadows, seemed to fade into the background. For a brief moment, all that mattered was the woman lying before me, her vulnerability a stark reminder of the fragility of life.
Poppy had endured hardships that would have broken lesser souls, yet here she lay, a testament to her resilience. Despite the darkness that had threatened to consume her, she had emerged stronger, her spirit unbroken.
And as I watched over her sleeping form, a vow formed in my heart. I would not be the next person to let her down. I would be the one to protect her, to shield her from the storms that raged outside these walls. Whatever dangers lurked in the shadows, I would face them head-on, for her sake.
In that moment, as the world outside faded away, I knew that I would do whatever it took to keep her safe. For Poppy was not just another woman caught in the crossfire of our world; she was the light that guided me through the darkness, the anchor that kept me grounded in a sea of chaos.
