RIDE (A Stone Kings Motorcycle Club Romance) (26 page)

12
Grey

T
rig and Repo
took the prospects on a ride north into Cannibals territory the next day. They had armed them both with a couple of Walther P99s and spent the afternoon before making sure that both Frankenstein and Cal knew at least the basics of how to use them. Trig told me that Frankenstein could barely hit the side of a barn with a handgun, but he was much better with a shotgun. Cal, he said, had obviously shot before and showed some promise with the Walther.

I spent that day trying to keep my thoughts on the club and off of Seton. I knew that I had to keep her and her brother totally separate in my mind, but frankly, I was doing a piss poor job of it. But what was worse, it damn near killed me to think about what I was pretty sure was inevitable: that sooner or later, she would find out about my family’s role in her father’s death. Once she figured it out, or once I told her myself, I was sure that would be it between us. Hell, if I had any balls at all, I would just come right out with it and tell her. Rip the bandaid off and be done with it. After all, I told myself, this thing between us wasn’t anything permanent. We both knew it couldn’t last. Better to just accept it and move on.

But every time I started to think about doing just that, the memory of how good it had felt being inside her stopped me in my tracks.

My dick pressed hard and insistent at my zipper at the memory of her moaning underneath me. I shifted uncomfortably on the seat of my bike in response and goosed the engine as I coasted down the highway. I hadn’t seen her since I had spread her legs in my back office and made her scream my name, then pressed myself inside that sweet hot center of her and come so hard I thought I’d lose consciousness. It was killing me to not just turn my bike around and head back into Lupine to find her, but I needed to have the run into Cannibal territory over and done with before I could let myself think about Seton. I knew, though, that the second the run was finished and the boys were on their way back to Lupine, I’d be on my way to see her.

I forced my thoughts away from Seton once again, and back to the MC. Trigger and Repo had been gone about three hours, and I hadn’t heard word from Trig yet. That in itself wasn’t anything to be concerned about. I expected them to be gone for at least six or seven hours, and if all went well, I might not hear from them until this evening, anyway.

But I was antsy, more so than usual, and as much as I hated to admit it to myself, I attributed my edginess to Seton’s brother being on the run. Part of me wished I hadn’t sent the prospects on with Trig and Repo. But the other part of me — the MC president — knew that I wouldn’t have hesitated to send a prospect into danger to test their mettle. Then again, I wondered, was I fooling myself? Had I sent the prospects out on that run on purpose, to prove to myself that the memory of Seton Greenlee’s pouty, fuckable mouth and the way she looked deep into my eyes as I came inside her hadn’t clouded my brain? I thought back to Trigger’s surprise at my decision to send the prospects. Would it have been smarter to send him and Repo by themselves, without two untested and inexperienced men with them?

I swore under my breath. This was no good. I couldn’t let myself start second-guessing my decisions. What was done was done. I had sent the four of them on the run; now what would happen, would happen. I throttled up and took the next corner a little faster than normal, just to shake my head free of all my thoughts, and concentrated on thinking about nothing but the road ahead.

About an hour later, my phone began to buzz. I got off the highway and came to stop at the edge of a bank of pines. I looked at the screen: Trigger.

“Yeah,” I barked into it.

“Hey, prez. Wanted to give you an update,” Trigger responded. “Just exited Cannibal territory. We took ourselves a nice, slow Sunday drive to Crow Wing.”

“Any trouble?” I asked.

“None,” came the answer. Relief coursed through me. “We even drove past the bar they hang out at over on the east side of town. A bunch of bikes were in the parking lot, even some Cannibals hanging out in front having a smoke. They watched us drive by. No confrontation. Not even a warning escort out of town.”

I frowned. “That’s good,” I said. “Maybe too good.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “My thought, too. They just watched us drive by. Seemed a little strange they didn’t at least stop us for a little chat. We even drove nice and slow so they had plenty of time to catch up with us. Nothing.”

“Huh.” I wasn’t sure what to make of that. Of all the possible reactions from the Cannibals I had expected, this wasn’t one of them. “Okay,” I continued. “Come on back, then. I want to see you, Levi, Winger, Moose and Repo tomorrow. We need to discuss next steps.”

“You got it, prez,” Trigger replied.

I ended the call and sat back on the bike to think. I tried to keep my mind off of Seton even as I breathed a sigh of relief that her brother hadn’t been harmed, and focus on the problem at hand. Drawing a deep breath, I let it out slowly and deliberately. Okay. Maybe the Cannibals had had nothing to do with Hammer’s death. If they had, it would have stood to reason that the attack would have been the opening salvo in a war. In which case, they wouldn’t have let Trigger and the others ride through their town without a response. Then again, even if the Cannibals weren’t behind the attack, it was unusual to say the least that they hadn’t reacted to our presence in their territory. Their lack of reaction in itself could be considered a reaction of another kind. In which case, the response might still be to come.

Also, even it was good news that the brothers hadn’t run into any danger, that left us back at square one in terms of figuring out who had been behind the shootout. As I sat there trying to puzzle my way through the Cannibals’ lack of response another, my thoughts went to Jethro. The night of the attack, he had fled at the first sounds of gun shot. At least, that’s what he had told Trigger and Levi when they tracked him down as he was packing his bags to skip town. And what he told me later, when they brought him in hands bound behind his back and face bloodied and beaten, to see me.

At the time, I had been so furious at his betrayal of my best friend and the MC that meting out club justice had been the only thing on my mind. But now, as I sat looking out at the tall pine forest, I wondered if Jethro had known more than he said he did? Was it possible that he had known who was behind the attack? For the first time, I wondered whether his “escape” had been something else entirely. He had paid the ultimate price for abandoning a brother, but had he gotten away with another kind of betrayal?

Fuck.
I couldn’t believe the thought had never occurred to me. The possibility that Jethro might have been not just a coward, but a mole as well, made my blood boil in my veins. I felt like punching something. Jethro was lucky he was dead, I thought to myself grimly. If he was still alive, he would probably be begging for me to end him before I was through with him.

It was too late to find out now, of course; I would probably never know if Jethro had been working for someone else. But if it was even a possibility, that made the entire landscape look different. I didn’t like the feeling of being in the dark, like there were shadows everywhere. Problem with shadows was, you were tempted to shoot at them, but you could get shot yourself if you got distracted and aimed in the wrong direction.

I started the bike back up and gunned it, then pulled back out on the highway in the direction of Lupine. Tomorrow I’d talk to the officers and get more information from Trigger. I knew there was no making a decision now.

As I approached the city limits of Lupine, though, instead of turning my bike toward the clubhouse, I went in the other direction. Toward the Cactus Bar. Seton had mentioned she was working tonight. I wanted to see her. I knew how much it bothered her that her brother was a prospect with the MC, and somehow, even though I knew she didn’t know anything about the run he had just gone on, I still felt the need to reassure her, somehow. My plan was just to go down there and have a beer. Just have a normal conversation about nothing, so she’d know everything was fine.

Just one beer. That was all. In and out.

Sure.

13
Seton

I
had been
at work barely two hours, and already I had broken one wine glass and dropped a mug full of beer on the floor. I just couldn’t seem to keep my hands from shaking as I thought about where Cal might be right now. I had texted him an hour ago, but still hadn’t received a response. He had been much better about getting back to me the last week or so, and I couldn’t help but think that he was going silent on me now to protect me from things he thought I wouldn’t want to know.

My case of nerves hadn’t gone unnoticed by my boss. “Seton, get your shit together,” Wes barked at me. “You want me to start taking what you break out of your paycheck?”

Normally, I would have ignored Wes’s petty comments, but today I wasn’t having it. “Shut up, Wes,” I retorted.

“Watch yourself,” he warned.

“Or what?” I snapped. I just didn’t have the patience to tiptoe around Wes right now. I threw down my rag and glared at him. “You’ll fire me? Go ahead, Wes. I’m not in the mood to be treated like a child. You think I’m breaking stuff on purpose?” I grabbed a martini glass from the counter and held it in the air, threatening with my eyes to send it crashing to the ground. “Do you really think that?”

Wes whistled in mock surprise. “Jesus, okay, calm down,” he said, raising his hands. “Though,” he continued, his expression morphing from a scowl to a leer, “You’re pretty sexy when you’re angry.”

“Fuck off, Wes,” Andi snarled beside me.

“You, too, sugarplum,” he shot back. He threw a mocking wink in her direction, then, turned back down the hall toward his office.

“Christ almighty, what a perv,” Andi muttered at his retreating back. She looked back toward me then, her eyes registering her concern. “You okay, See? You seem super on edge today.”

I looked at her, taking in the worried expression on her face. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her I was fine and change the subject, but something stopped me. The fact was, I was exhausted from trying to pretend like nothing was wrong.

“I am on edge,” I admitted. “I’m… ugh, Andi, I’m just… there’s just a ton going on right now.”

“You want to talk about it?” she asked.

I hesitated. Andi glanced out at the room. About half of the tables were full, and the waitresses were busy serving drinks and meals from the kitchen. “Okay, spill,” she said, leaning against the bar.

“It’s a long story,” I protested.

“No worries,” she smiled.

I told her the bare bones version of my visit to Cal’s house, including how I’d seen the handgun he’d shoved into the waistband of his jeans. Andi looked at me in alarm. “Whoa. What did he say about the gun?”

“I didn’t ask him about it,” I said miserably. “I didn’t really have time. He jumped on his bike and rode away. And honestly, what would I have even said about it? He knows I’m not comfortable with him prospecting with the club. He would have just gotten defensive. It’s not like his big sister disapproving would have changed anything.”

“Probably not,” Andi conceded. “Shit, See, I’m sorry.”

“And… that’s not all,” I said, then stopped, suddenly regretting saying even that much. But Andi knew me well, and she could be a bulldog when she wanted to. I knew she wasn’t going to let me stop talking once I’d started.

“What? Seton, come on. Tell me what’s up,” she ordered.

I sighed again. “There’s… there’s a guy…”

Andi whooped, the sound attracting the attention of half the bar. “Sorry!” she called merrily, then turned back to me. “Tell me! Oh, my God, tell me you’ve found someone better than Asshole Nate!”

“I’m… I’m not sure if I’ve ‘found’ anybody. And as for being better than Nate… well, he’s certainly different,” I said wryly.

“Who is he?” she prompted. “Where did you meet him?”

I stared at her and forced myself to open my mouth. “He’s the president of the Stone Kings.”

“WHAT?!” Andi yelled. The customers turned around again to look at her. “Oh, mind your own business!” she snapped at them, rolling her eyes. She looked back at me, her voice lower now but no less animated. “Jesus, Seton, are you serious? You are with the president of the MC?”

“I’m not ‘with’ anybody,” I corrected. “Not exactly, anyway. Oh, Andi, I don’t know what’s going on!” I wailed. “He… I met him when Cal borrowed my car and didn’t return it. He left it at the MC’s clubhouse and I went to pick it up, and Grey was there…”

“Grey Stone?” she said, her eyes widening.

“Do you know him?” I asked quizzically.

“Yeah, I’ve seen him around. I knew he was in the MC, but I guess I didn’t know he was the president.” Her eyes widened. “He’s hot! Holy hell, Seton!” She leaned in, her tone turning conspiratorial. “Have you… you know?”

At my lack of response, she threw her head back and laughed out loud. “Oh, my God, you’ve been banging a biker!” she cried.

“Shhhh!” I warned, looking around me in alarm. “Stop it, Andi, I’m serious!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she said. Her eyes continued to twinkle as she continued in a lower voice. “So, how was it?”

“Fantastic,” I admitted shyly.

“Oh my God!” she laughed. “So, what’s the problem again?”

“Andi! My brother’s in the MC. I can’t… I can’t be
doing
this with the president of the club when I’m trying to get Cal out of it!”

“Oh, yeah. Oh, sorry, I kind of lost the plot in my excitement about the sexy biker guy. You do know you’re kind of living a fantasy of mine, right?” she grinned.

“Andi, come on! Be serious!”

“Oh, girl, I
am
serious.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “But, I see your point. So, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. That’s just the problem.”

“Do you want to keep seeing Grey Stone?”

“I don’t know that either,” I said miserably. “I mean, there’s like this… electricity when I’m around him. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt. But at the same time, God, every relationship I’ve been in has been with someone irresponsible and unreliable. And now I start something with the president of a biker gang? Like, what’s next, an ex-con?”

“Hey, don’t judge,” Andi admonished. “Maybe deep down he’s a family man who dreams of a white picket fence and two point five kids.”

I scrunched up my nose. “I don’t think so. It’s hard to imagine Grey mowing the lawn.”

She giggled. “True. So, what are you going to do?”

Shaking my head, I shrugged my shoulders in frustration. “Beats me.”

“Well, then,” Andi said, ever practical, “Try not to think about it for now. Just go with the flow. Eventually, a path will open up. You’ll know what to do when it does.”

I cocked an eyebrow at her. “Since when are you so philosophical?”

“I have depths of intelligence you have never experienced,” she said modestly. “Seriously, though. Just let it go for now. You don’t have to decide everything right this instant. Take a deep breath, and tell yourself what will be will be.”

“Thank you, Doris Day,” I mocked. But despite the fact that I was no closer to making any decisions, I felt better for having talked to my best friend. I went about the rest of my shift feeling a little lighter, and determined to try hard not to think about things I couldn’t do anything about.

I had hoped to avoid Wes after my angry outburst, but just my luck, he came out to the bar a little over an hour later and leaned over the counter. “Seton, I need to see you in the back. Andi, you’re on your own for a few minutes.”

“Whatever you say, Boss.” Andi gave him a mocking two-fingered salute, but he had already turned away. She shot me a quizzical look and I shrugged and followed Wes back to the office. I wondered if I had pushed him far enough that he was planning to fire me. The thought should have worried me, but at that point I had enough other things on my mind that the possibility didn’t really faze me much.

Instead of sitting behind his ratty old metal desk like he usually did, Wes shut the door and leaned against the front of it, facing me. He crossed his arms, and in a voice that he obviously meant to be friendly, asked, “Seton, is there anything you’d like to tell me to explain your job performance today?”

The words should have pissed me off, but since he seemed like he was making an effort to be nice, I decided I’d try to return the sentiment. “No. I’ve got some stuff going on right now that’s making me a little on edge, but I’ll be okay. I’m sorry I let it affect my work,” I said in what I hoped was a sincere tone. “I promise I’ll do better.”

Wes stood and moved closer, until he was standing barely a foot away from me. I took a subtle step back, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “Hey, hey, Seton, no need to back away from me. I don’t bite,” he smiled, showing his teeth in a rat-like grin.

“I, uh, guess I’m just a little sensitive to my personal space,” I stammered as he took another step toward me. He had pushed me against the chair in front of his desk, and the backs of my knees brushed against it. If I tried to move backwards any further, I would fall into it.

“You seem a little tense,” he continued. His voice had taken on a slightly unctuous tone. “You sure you don’t need a little tension release?” He reached up and awkwardly began to massage my shoulders. A shudder ran through me at his touch, and instinctively I reached up with both arms and shoved his hands away from me. “No, I don’t need tension release. Please stop touching me,” I said, as calmly as I could manage.

“Come on, Seton,” he said then, his voice changing from wheedling to hard and demanding. “You know you want it.” One arm went around me then, too quickly for me to react, and then he was pressing against me, his hardness pulsing against my leg.

I opened my mouth to scream, but his other hand clamped over my mouth before I could make much noise. I began to struggle frantically, my mind fighting to grasp that my boss was going to sexually assault me if I didn’t get away somehow. “You don’t want to lose your job, I know,” he continued through gritted teeth as his grip tightened on me. “You can do something for me, and I’ll do something for you.”

Wes was stronger than he looked, and he was holding me so tightly against him now that I couldn’t get my arms free. The short skirt I was wearing began to ride up from my struggling, and I shuddered as I realized that soon my panties would be exposed to his touch. I tried to maneuver my leg so that I could knee him in the crotch, but he pressed me against the back of the chair so I couldn’t attempt it without losing balance.

I continued to struggle, but he held me fast. In desperation, I realized that my only hope was if I could destabilize both of us, so I said a silent prayer and then deliberately leaned back against the chair with enough force that Wes couldn’t counteract the motion. I toppled backwards and he toppled after me, swearing and instinctively moving his hand away from my face to break his fall. I opened my mouth and screamed as loud as I could, my scream turning to a yelp of pain as I fell to the floor and cracked my head against the wooden planks.

Suddenly, the door flew open and a mountain of muscle flew at Wes, grabbing him by the shirt and hauling him to his feet. Grey Stone pulled back a fist and smashed it against Wes’s face. I stumbled to my feet as Grey pulled back and took aim again, connecting with Wes’s jaw with a sickening crack. Wes sank to the floor with a horrible gurgling sound coming from his throat. He weakly raised his hands as if to stop Grey from hitting him again, but Grey was on him in an instant. His face was frozen in a rictus of fury. Grabbing Wes by the collar once again and raising him up, he roared as he cocked his fist back a third time. Wes closed his eyes and screamed, bloody snot running down his lip.

“Grey, stop!” I said, beginning to sob. “Stop, you’ll kill him!” I bent down and grabbed at his arm, struggling uselessly to subdue him. His muscle was cold, unmovable steel. Grey made a move to shake me off, but I clung harder. “Please, Grey!” I cried. “Don’t!”

Eventually my plea seemed to sink in, and with a grunt of fury, Grey shook Wes’s prone body one more time by the collar and threw him to the floor. Grey stood gazing at his bloodied face with a look of loathing. When he turned to me, unseeing, there was a dark, barely-contained rage in his eyes that frightened me. I resisted the urge to flinch. “Please,” I whispered again. “Please stop now.”

“What did he do to you?” Grey demanded, his voice as cold as ice.

“Nothing!” I insisted. “Not yet. He was going to…” my voice broke. “But he didn’t do anything. I’m okay.”

Wes turned back to the cowering figure on the floor. “You almost died today,” he hissed. He leaned down toward Wes, who began to weep and shied away from the figure who towered over him. “You are done with women,” Grey seethed, pointing a hard finger at him. “Completely. You understand that? You’ve just taken a permanent fucking vow of chastity.”

Wes’s eyes widened, and he nodded, his sobs growing louder.

Grey stood up, a profound look of disgust on his face. Wordlessly, he reached out and pulled me to him. I collapsed into his arms and realized I was shaking. Silently, he led me out of the office, Grey closing the door behind us with a final slam. We stopped in the hallway, and he reached up and began to stroke my hair. I forced myself to concentrate on breathing deeply and tried to compose myself. I inhaled, then exhaled, and his warmth and the clean, leathery scent of him began to calm me.

When I had stopped shaking, Grey pulled away and looked down at me. His eyes were still dark and angry, but there was something else there. Something I could tell was just for me. “Come on,” he murmured gently. “We’re leaving.” He took my hand in his large, callused one, and led me down the hall. When we got out to the bar, he glanced at Andi, who was staring at us wide-eyed. “Your boss might need some medical attention,” Grey grunted at her. Andi simply nodded and gave me a small wave as he led me out the door.

Out in the parking lot, he walked me to his motorcycle. “You okay to ride?” he asked. I nodded. Straddling the bike, he reached for the helmet hanging from the handlebar and handed it to me. “You know how to put this on?” he asked.

“I think so,” I answered. I pulled the helmet over my head, and began to fumble with the straps. Grey gently pushed my hands away and snapped them together himself, adjusting them until they fit snugly under my chin. I looked at the bike seat, realizing that my skirt was so short that getting on it would be a challenge. Blushing, I yanked it down as much as I could and lifted up one leg, straddling the seat quickly.

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