She bit her bottom lip. “Uh, I have a pack of brown sugar Poptarts hidden in the back of the pantry.”

  “Oh,” I laughed. “You’re learning to hide the food you want for yourself.” I had done that a time or two. It sucked when you bought food you were craving and when you went to eat it... it was gone.

  “I learned the hard way. Tank ate all of my Poptarts the last time.”

  Tank ate like he was always eating his last meal. I wasn’t surprised he had eaten them. “I’ll grab them. You want coffee?”

  “You don’t have to wait on me, Six-Gun. I can come get breakfast once I get dressed.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll be back in two minutes.”

  I headed back to the kitchen and opened the pantry. “Didn’t you just eat?” Raelyn called.

  “Yup.”

  I found the box of Poptarts and pulled out a package. I tucked them in the pocket of my cut and moved to the coffee maker.

  “What’s that in your pocket?”

  Fucking Tank. “Nothing. When did you finally get back to the clubhouse?” I asked.

  Tank leaned against the counter and folded his arms over his chest. “Last night.”

  “What happened with you and Rain?” I grabbed a coffee cup and filled it.

  “Chick is fucking psycho. I’ve been trying to cut it off with her for months, but she keeps reeling me back in.”

  “That’s the power of the pussy,” Playboy called.

  “That’s the damn truth,” Tank grunted. “I think she finally got the hint that we are over.”

  “I didn’t know you guys were ever an official thing.” I grabbed the creamer from the fridge and poured a glug into the cup. “I thought she was just your hookup.”

  Tank sighed. “I didn’t even know we were a thing until she acted like a damn psycho. I mean, hell, brother, she was sleeping with Rebel the same time she was sleeping with me. That seems pretty fucking casual to me, doesn’t it?”

  I shrugged. “I mean, yeah. I never understood how you and Rebel could sleep with the same chick and not have it come between you two.”

  “Because as big of an asshole as I sound, she didn’t mean anything to me. She had set the pace when we started, and that pace was we weren’t ever going to be anything more than hooking up.”

  I shook my head. “Sounds like her heart got involved, and neither of yours did.”

  Tank scoffed. “More like her psycho heart got involved. First, she tried tricking Rebel into thinking she was pregnant, and then, she pulled the same shit with me.”

  I clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, at least you’re out of whatever the hell you two were in.”

  “Let’s fucking hope so. I couldn’t have spelled it out any clearer. I just hope it sinks into her head and she leaves me alone.”

  “Maybe this is your sign to start looking elsewhere for your next girl.”

  “Fuck that,” Tank laughed. “I’m swearing off women. I’ve got two hands and a fleshlight. I am more than good without a woman.”

  “Ew,” Raelyn cried. “I could have lived the rest of my life, not knowing you own a fleshlight.”

  “Oh, come on,” Tank scoffed. “Every guy has owned one in his life.” He pointed to me. “Don’t fucking deny it.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, but hopefully, I’ll be giving it a rest soon.”

  Raelyn gagged. “Oh, God.” She covered her eyes with her hand. “I can never look at any of you ever again.”

  Playboy moved his arm from around her shoulder and cringed. “You probably shouldn’t look in my bedside table then.”

  Raelyn shot up from the table. “I need to go bleach my brain from any memory of this moment.” She clamped her eyes shut and bumped into the table. “Someone tell me which way the bathroom is.”

  “Baby, open your damn eyes,” Playboy laughed.

  “No, no,” Raelyn muttered. “If I do that I picture you and them...” She visibly shivered. “I either need bleach or a bottle of rum to erase this.” She waved her arm around. “All of this.”

  Playboy stood and grabbed her hand. “You’re a fucking nut, Rae.”

  She tried to swat him away. “I’d rather be a nut than one of you guys.” She opened her eyes. “Are there not enough girls around here that you couldn’t entice one of them to your bed? I mean, come on.”

  “I don’t know about you guys,” Tank drawled. “But my fleshlight doesn’t talk, which is honestly the whole appeal of it to me.”

  I bumped fists with Tank. “Right on, brother. I’m running to Woodland with Memphis. We’ll be back before she has to be to work tonight.”

  “Meeting up with Mick?” Playboy asked.

  “Yup.”

  I headed back to Memphis’ room and knocked on the door. “It’s me,” I called.

  “Come in!” she called.

  Well, that was new. I opened the door and set the coffee and Poptarts on her dresser.

  “I’ll be out in just a minute. I decided to shower because I didn’t last night,” she called from the bathroom. “I smelled like the club.”

  It didn’t sound like she wanted me to leave. I could count on one hand the amount of times I had been in her room, so I took this as an opportunity take a look round.

  The top of her dresser was littered with the usual girl shit—makeup, jewelry, and hair ties. I looked in the small mirror she had sitting on the edge and busted out laughing. It looked like one of those circus mirrors that distorted and zoomed in. “What the hell would she use this for?” I wondered out loud.

  A night stand stood on one side of her bed, with the mini-fridge she had bought on the opposite side. Other than that, she didn’t have much. No photos of family or anything personal.

  A bright yellow comforter covered the bed along with four overstuffed pillows, and a hamper overflowing with clothes sat in the corner.

  “Checking out my room?”

  I turned around and came face to face with the most beautiful sight ever.

  Memphis’ hair hung damp around her shoulders while her face was fresh and glowing. Black jeans with rips at the knees encased her legs, and a long-sleeve thermal shirt stretched snug over her breasts. Her feet were bare, and a hairbrush dangled from her fingertips.

  “Uh, yeah?” No use in denying it. It wasn’t like I was dumping out her drawers and snooping.

  A laugh flitted from her lips. “Well, you are honest.” She moved to the dresser and looked down at the mess of makeup and shit. “I hope you didn’t judge me off the clutter. I never seem to be able to keep my makeup and hair stuff straight. One day I organize it, and then, the next day, its strewn all over.” She grabbed a tan bottle and twisted off the lid. “I just need to make myself presentable, and then, we can go.”

  “Presentable?” I asked.

  She glanced up and looked at me through the mirror. “Pretty sure I’ll scare small children right now, Six-Gun.”

  “I don’t think we’re looking at the same person, doll. You took my breath away.”

  She scoffed and shook her head. “Right.”

  “You’re fucking beautiful, Memphis. You have to know that.” What in the hell did she see when she looked in the mirror? She was beautiful when she had makeup on, but right now, with nothing on her face, she was angelic. I didn’t know how she did it, but I never wanted to take my eyes off her.

  If there was any doubt before of whether or not I was into Memphis, there wasn’t now. This woman was what I wanted to wake up to and fall asleep to every night.

  She had knocked me over like a ton of bricks, and she didn’t even know it. Her broken, yet healing heart, was going to be mine.

  “I’m serious,” I called. “You don’t need makeup.”

  Her eyes connected with mine. “Please don’t feed me a line of bull, Six-Gun.”

  I stepped toward her. “I’m not. I know you got a lot going on, but I just want you to know you’re beautiful. You don’t need to hide behind makeup or anything. The world deserves to see you like this.”

  She looked down at the bottle she was holding. “Well, I don’t fully believe you, but I guess I don’t really need a full face of makeup right now, do I? I can always do that before I get ready for work.” She set down the bottle and grabbed a slim tube. “I am going to put on some concealer and eyeliner though. No one needs to see the bags under my eyes.”

  I held up my hands. “Do whatever makes you comfortable, doll. I’m just telling you what I see.”

  She laughed and opened the tube. She swiped the goop under eyes and grabbed a small sponge off the dresser. “Maybe we should stop and get your eyes checked on the way back to the clubhouse.”

  “Got twenty/twenty vision.”

  I watched as she pressed the sponge to the makeup she put on and then sprayed some mist all over her face. She grabbed a pencil and drew on her eye. At least, that’s what it looked like she was doing. My eyes watered just watching her stick the pencil so close to her eyeball.

  She grabbed a pink tube of Chapstick and smeared it all over her lips, then dropped the tube on the dresser and turned around to look at me. “All right, Six-Gun. Let’s go scare some kids.”

  I chuckled and nodded to her bare feet. “You might want to put some boots on, doll.”

  She tapped her nose. “That might be a good idea.” She pulled a pair of black boots out from under the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress to put them on.

  “Those are what you should be wearing when you’re on the back of my bike.”

  She stood and looked down at the boots. “They’re too big to stick in my bag, and I don’t think they would go well with my waitress outfit.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  She grabbed a black sweatshirt and pulled it on over her head. “Now am I ready?”

  I nodded and held out my hand to her. “Let’s ride, doll.”

  She hesitated for a second, her eyes on my hand. She licked her lips and sighed.

  Whether or not she took my hand was a deciding factor right now. The choice was hers, and I prayed to God she chose me.

  She placed her hand in mine and looked up at me. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Eight

  Storytime...

  Memphis

  “How’s the butt?”

  I stretched my arms over my head and smiled. “Much better than last night. Though that was only a half an hour ride,” I laughed.

  “Maybe we can take the long way back to the clubhouse,” Six-Gun suggested.

  “I’d like that.” Something was happening between us. I was seeing Six-Gun as someone more than a man who might just want to hurt me.

  I looked up at the building we had parked in front of. “What are we doing here?”

  It was an auto parts store. While it wasn’t strange that we were here, I kind of wondered why we had driven to this one when we had probably passed three stores just like this one.

  “Someone in there I need to talk to.”

  I glanced over at Six-Gun. “Does this have to do with Leona?”

  I hadn’t known Leona real well, but from the little time I had spent with her, I could see why everyone was so torn up over her death. It was bullshit she had been murdered and now the Bastards wanted answers as to why.

  Six-Gun pushed his sunglasses on top of his head and looked around. “Possibly. We’re looking everywhere we can right now.”

  “And there might be answers in there?” I asked.

  Six-Gun nodded and held out his hand to me. “Hopefully.”

  I looked down at his hand. I could easily not put my hand in his. Just walk away. And he would be okay with it. He kept giving me the option and control to decide what was going to happen.

  Hell, the man didn’t pressure me at all.

  I placed my hand in his, and he held it gently. He held it like if he wasn’t careful, I would break.

  Would I break?

  Maybe a month ago I might have, but I was starting to feel stronger. I was starting to feel like I could live again.

  It wasn’t going to be like it was before, but it could be good.

  He threaded his fingers through mine and led me into the store.

  There wasn’t anything special about this store. It was like any other auto parts store I had been in before. It was crazy to think that we might be able to get information about Leona from inside these walls.

  “Can I help you?” the young kid at the front counter called.

  “Mick around?” Six-Gun called.

  “I think he’s in aisle seven restocking oil.”

  Six-Gun nodded and led me over to aisle seven.

  “Should I stay here?” I asked him when we reached the aisle.

  Six-Gun shook his head. “Not letting you out of my sight.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I know how you guys are when it comes to club business. Plus, it’s not like anyone is going to hurt me when you’re ten feet away.”

  He tightened his grip on my hand. “You stay with me.”

  He pulled me down the aisle toward a tall, slender man putting containers of oil on the shelf.

  “Mick?” Six-Gun called.

  The guy startled and looked toward us. “Uh, yeah.” His eyes went to the patch on Six-Gun’s cut. “You Six-Gun?”

  We stop in front of the guy, and Six-Gun held out his other hand to the guy. “That’s me. It’s good to meet you.”

  Mick shook Six-Gun’s hand and looked around nervously. “I’ll see about taking my break, and then, we can talk.”

  Six-Gun nodded his head. “Sounds good. Some peace and quiet would be good.”

  “Meet me out front in two minutes. I need to let Johnny know I’m going out.”

  Six-Gun and I stepped to the side and let Mick lead the way back up front.

  We walked out the front door, and Six-Gun kept his eye on Mick through the large window.

  “You don’t think he’s going to run, do you?” I asked.

  Six-Gun shook his head. “No. He knows I’m not looking for anything to do with him. He used to run with the prez of Devil’s Rebels, and I just want some info he might have.”

  “Does he still hang out with them?” If Mick still was friends with the guy, maybe Mick was setting us up for something.

  Six-Gun shook his head. “No. Not as far as I could find out.”

  Mick grabbed his coat from behind the counter and walked out the front door. He motioned to follow him around the building.

  “Are you sure this is safe?” I whispered.

  Six-Gun chuckled. “We’ll be fine, doll. I can get a good sense of people when I meet them, and I know Mick isn’t going to hurt us.”

  I eyed Six-Gun warily. “Is that like the biker sixth sense or something?” I muttered.

  He winked. “Or something.”

  We stopped by a large dumpster in the back of the building. Mick pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Six-Gun and me. I shook my head, but Six-Gun took one.

  Mick lit his cigarette and then handed the lighter to Six-Gun. “Easy ride out here today?” he asked.

  Six-Gun lit his cigarette and blew out a plume of smoke. “Good as can be expected. The weather was good for it.” He handed the lighter back to Mick.

  “So, you were wanting to know about Menace and Barracuda, huh?” Mick asked.

  Six-Gun nodded. “Was wondering if they had any past issues. Doesn’t matter what is was, we want to know.”

  Mick nodded. “They were pretty good friends growing up. Back then, they were Buddy and James. After we graduated high school, they both got into riding motorcycles and living the outlaw life.”

  “You, too?” Six-Gun asked.

  Mick shrugged. “Sort of. I wasn’t into it as much as they were, but I was around for the occasional party or whatever.”

  “So what happened between the two?”

  “Her name was Charlene. She started out dating Menace, but things went south between the two of them. She found herself in Barracuda’s bed,” Mick explained.

  “And I’m assuming Menace wasn’t exactly happy about that,” Six-Gun guessed.

  Mick nodded. “He was fucking pissed about it. Charlene left him because she didn’t like the path he was headed down, but then she ran straight to Barracuda who was doing the same exact things that Menace was doing.”

  “So what did Menace do about it?” I asked. I probably should have kept my mouth shut, but I needed to know what happened between Menace and Barracuda. This was like a soap opera and I was waiting for the big dun, dun, dun moment.

  “Right off the bat? He did nothing. Just sort of sat back and watched. Observed what was going on with Barracuda and Charlene. About two months after those two hooked up, Barracuda popped the question to Charlene.” Mick laughed. “Menace went through the fucking roof. About lost his damn mind.”

  “No shit,” Six-Gun muttered.

  I couldn’t tell if Six-Gun knew all of this about Barracuda, or if he was hearing it for the first time like I was.

  Something had to have happened because Barracuda wasn’t married to Charlene and neither was Menace from what I knew.

  “So, one night when Barracuda and Charlene were out, Menace followed them. Right behind them. Barracuda spotted him and tried to lose him. Hopped on the highway and weaved in and out of traffic. Menace stuck to them like fucking glue.”

  I had a feeling this wasn’t going to end well. Not well at all.

  “They hit about one-twenty and the highway was wide open. They were ahead of all of the traffic and start climbing a hill.” Mick inhaled and blew out a cloud of smoke. “Right when they get to the peak of the hill, traffic is stopped. Bumper to fucking bumper.”

  “Oh, no,” I gasped.

  “Barracuda slammed into a Toyota Corolla while Menace managed to miss hitting any cars but went careening into the ditch.” Mick shook his head. “Charlene was killed instantly, and Barracuda was in a coma for three weeks.”

  “Fuck,” Six-Gun muttered.

  “Menace had two broken legs and a huge gash on his forehead. It took paramedics and fire an hour to get him out of the tree he had been catapulted into.”

  “Oh, no.” There were so many other things I could have said, but I was in too much shock to think them.

  “So, Charlene was dead and those two idiots were still alive and kicking. Menace started the Devil’s Rebels, and Barracuda was able to start the Sacramento chapter of the Royal Bastards.”

 

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