Chapter 24 Ice
Two months later…
The heavy door swings open with a satisfying thud, a gust of cool air rushing out like a whispered welcome. My boots click against the polished concrete, echoing through the vast space like a herald announcing our arrival. Isabella’s hand is warm in mine, her slender fingers interlaced with my own. I squeeze reassuringly as she takes in the vibrant energy that pulses through the room. This is our sanctuary, our fortress.
“Damn, this place has come together.” I gawk at the finished masterpiece.
The overall design is a seamless blend of rugged tradition and upscale luxury. The scent of aged leather and top-shelf whiskey hangs in the air, drawing me toward the massive granite-topped bar. Shelves of liquor gleam under the glow of custom-forged iron chandeliers. A huge variety of glasses in all shapes and sizes glisten, just waiting to be filled.
On the other side of the great room, plush, black leather sectional sofas circle an indoor fire pit. Apparently, Fang was inspired by a 1970s centerfold pictorial which is now hanging in a frame on the wall. Hope he’s banging that nurse because the guy seriously needs to get laid. Who the hell reads old fap mags anymore? You’d think a super nerd would have more access to naked pics than the rest of us.
A sleek poker table with inlaid ebony wood sits between the fire pit and the bar. That’s got to be Diablo’s doing. He’s a shark and loves taking the prospects down to the felt. Then he makes them work to pay off their debt. It’s fucked up, but also genius. That’s Diablo.
Isabella’s eyes sparkle, that fiery spirit of hers almost tangible as she scans the room. “It’s impressive, Ice,” she says, her voice laced with genuine appreciation. “I can’t wait to see it all.”
Her enthusiasm stokes the fire in my chest, and I’m eager to show her every corner that we’ve claimed as ours. As we move away from the heart of the clubhouse into one of the hallways, the buzz of conversations and clinking glasses recedes. This place is a maze. It’s huge.
“You look like you’re almost ready to run a marathon,” Fang calls out, striding toward us with that geeky grin plastered across his face. His muscles bulge beneath the fabric of his graphic tee, a neon-green circuit board design that subtly forms the shape of a dragon, with the phrase “Code Like a Wizard, Debug Like a Warlock” in bold pixelated font across the chest. The thick black frames of his glasses do nothing to hide the gleam of excitement in his green eyes.
“Not quite yet but getting there.” I clap my hand on his shoulder. “Now, show me all the cool nerd shit.”
“Check this out.” Fang pulls a sleek gadget from his cargo shorts and waves it around like a magic wand. “Biometric scanners at every entrance, HD surveillance cams with facial recognition software, and motion sensors in the perimeter—think of it as a digital fortress.”
“That was some cyborg shit at the front gate. Sounds like we’re locked up tighter than Fort Knox,” I reply, impressed despite myself.
“Exactly,” Fang beams, clearly proud of his handiwork. “Nothing gets in or out without us knowing. And if something does go sideways,” he adds, a shadow of seriousness crossing his features, “we’ll be ready.”
“Good work, man.” I high five him, feeling a surge of gratitude for this place and the people who fill it. This isn’t just walls and floors, it’s a commitment, a promise to each other that we’re not alone in the never ending fight against injustice.
“Gotta check on a few more things,” Fang says. “Take a look around.”
“That’s the plan. Let’s go, babe,” I say to Isabella, excitement threading through my words. “There’s plenty more to see.”
As Isabella and I drift away from Fang, we continue to explore the various rooms within the clubhouse. We walk through one of the doors to find a second great room, alive with the crack of billiard balls and laughter. Another, smaller bar sits along one wall. The scent of leather and motor oil mingles in the air, a familiar perfume that speaks of home.
“Eight-ball, corner pocket,” Vicki declares with a confident grin, her voice carrying over the chatter. I can’t help but smirk as she lines up her shot, her focus unwavering even as Tank looms behind her, trying to break her concentration.
“Ya sure ‘bout that, darlin’?” Tank drawls, his tone laced with amusement. There’s an ease between them, a teasing back-and-forth that’s become part of the club’s daily rhythm. “Cuz, you know I don’t go down without a fight.”
“Watch and learn, big boy,” she retorts, then with a smooth flick of her wrist, the cue ball sends the eight-ball rolling, tapping it precisely into the designated pocket.
“Damn!” Tank throws his hands up in mock surrender, the muscles in his arms flexing beneath his skin-tight shirt. “Girl’s got game,” he admits, turning to toss me a nod of acknowledgment. “Hey, Ice, how’s the leg holdin’ up?”
“Don’t need that peg leg after all,” I quip. “Each day’s a step closer to kicking your ass on that table.”
“Is that right?” He chuckles, the sound grounded and genuine. “I should tell you, the club voted on your new nickname.”
“That right?” I smirk.
“Ladies, say hello to ‘Snake Snack.’”
“That’s not even that funny,” I advise with a wry smile.
“Better than ‘Swamp Worm.’ That was the runner up,” Vicki says.
“You guys really need to get more creative. How’s everything going at Voodoo?” I ask.
“Same shit, different day. I’ve got everyone in line.” Vicky grins. I officially promoted her to manager last month because she did a good job running the club in my absense. I’m confident she’ll continue to do well going forward.
“If you need anything, text me.”
“Will do, boss.”
“Let’s go, babe.” I put my hand on Isabella’s lower back and guide her back into the hall.
“Why did they put the pool tables in here instead of the other room with the poker table?” she asks.
“Uh…” I rub the back of my neck. “Well, some of the guys like to use them for other things.”
“Like—oh, oh, wow. Really?”
“Wanna try it sometime?” I waggle my eyebrows at her.
“Eww! Gross. How often do you clean them?”
“Probably not often enough.”
Laughter and the clack of pool balls fade behind us as Bones arrives to lead Isabella and me through the back door of the clubhouse. I’m walking a little easier, feeling more like myself. The warmth of the Louisiana evening greets us, heavy with the tantalizing scents of smoldering charcoal and sizzling meat that waft toward us, promising a feast.
“Check this out,” Bones says, his voice thick with pride. He sweeps an arm across the scene like he’s unveiling a masterpiece—a state-of-the-art barbecue setup gleaming under the string lights crisscrossing above our heads. “Got everything we need to feed an army. Or just our hungry bunch.”
“Looks amazing. Smells good too.” Isabella’s eyes go wide with genuine admiration. It’s not just the grill she’s impressed with, it’s the palpable sense of unity here, the kind of bond you can’t fake.
“Let this be the first of many barbecues,” Bones says.
“Community’s everything,” I say, giving him a nod. “This right here is proof we’re about more than just bikes and leather.” The club—my family—has come a long way, and it’s moments like this that hammer home why we fight so hard for what we believe in.
A familiar engine growl cuts through the air, and we all turn to see Vapor riding up on his bike, Blue clinging to him, right where she belongs. They roll to a stop, killing the engine.
“You made it,” Vapor calls out, dismounting with the ease of a man used to power and control. He helps his woman off the bike before wrapping a protective arm around her. His slicked-back hair and sharp blue eyes miss nothing as he surveys the new digs.
“Place is pretty sweet. What do you think?” I ask.
“It’s everything we asked for and more. Worth the wait.” His gaze lands on the barbecue area. “Smells like Bones has been working some magic on the grill.”
“Only the best for my brothers,” Bones chimes in, beaming.
“Blue and I brought dessert,” Vapor says, a rare hint of softness creeping into his voice as he glances at the woman by his side. It’s clear that he loves her. Anyone can see it. It used to gross me out until I realized I was just jealous. Now I’ve got what they have, and I couldn’t be happier.
“Let me help you,” Isabella says, going to get the cake carrier strapped to the back of the bike. She carries it toward the rows of picnic tables, waiting to be filled with bikers and their women.
“It’s white with cream cheese frosting,” Blue says. “Hopefully it’s not too plain.”
“It’s cake! Does it even matter?”
“Perfect.” I smile at Blue before slapping Vapor on the shoulder. “You always know how to make an entrance.”
“Timing is everything,” he responds with a wink. “And speaking of time, let’s eat. I’m starving.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” I say, the scent of the grill making my stomach rumble in agreement. We’ve faced down danger together, but tonight, it’s all about the simple pleasure of good food and better company. Also, we’re celebrating the new addition to our family—Isabella. She walked away from the chains of her past, but what we have? It’s forged in fire, tested in battle. Stronger than blood. Stronger than anything. A connection that will last a lifetime.
We’re in the middle of grubbing when Diablo appears from the forest area near the back of the property.
“Nice quiet room we got,” Diablo says, sliding onto the bench across the table from me. Someone hands him a beer and he takes a long swig.
Isabella’s head swivels toward him, her curiosity piqued by his sudden appearance. “You have a quiet room?”
“Ah, yes, our little sanctuary for… private discussions,” I say, forcing a chuckle, knowing full well its real purpose—a soundproof chamber where screams are swallowed whole.
“Private discussions, huh?” she teases, though her gaze lingers, searching for the lie. But some truths are too heavy for those we love to bear.
“Only the most serene chats,” I assure her, hoping to God she never learns what truly happens beyond those padded walls.
I lean close, my voice a warm whisper that only she can hear. “You know, Bella, if you want a quiet place to clear your head in the new house, I’ll build you a meditation room.” The words slip out with a playful undertone, but there’s earnestness stitched into every syllable.
“Really?” Her eyes, those deep pools of blue, light up like the night sky on the Fourth of July. “That would be… amazing.”
“Anything for you,” I say, and I mean it. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to carve out a pocket of peace in our tempestuous world for her.
“I can’t wait to move in,” she says wistfully. “Getting the house across the street from Vapor’s was a miracle.”
“It sure was,” I say, catching Vapor’s eye and giving him a subtle nod. Isabella won’t ever find out what we had to do to get the homeowner to sell. We didn’t have to rough him up, but we did bribe him with a ridiculous amount of money. She doesn’t need to know about any of it. Consider it club business.
“Are you excited about starting your online cooking show?” Blue asks Isabella.
“I can’t wait. The first episode will be how to cook my abeula’s pozole .”
“Yum! Let me know if you want a sous chef.”
“Babet bought me a fancy contraption that chops veggies. It also slices and does all kinds of other things. I need to read the manual.”
“Nah,” I wave away the idea. “Just hit buttons until it works.”
“Exactly,” Bones says.
“We actually read manuals so we know how to work stuff.” Blue rolls her eyes before turning her gaze back to Isabella. “I’d be happy to come help."
“I’d love that," Isabella says, graciously.
“Now that the housing situation is settled, do you need help with the wedding stuff, Ice?” Fang asks. “I’m pretty handy with planning—got spreadsheets for everything.”
“Appreciate it, brother, but all I need is Bella,” I say, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the Louisiana heat spread through me. Isabella’s hand tightens in mine, a silent vow echoing louder than any spoken promise.
“We’re going to do a backyard wedding like Vapor and Blue’s. I watched the video with Blue the other day. It was magical,” Isabella says wistfully.
“Then that’s what you’ll get,” I say.
“Speaking of magic stuff,” Fang nudges his glasses up, giving Isabella a respectful nod. “If you want some high-tech security for peace of mind, just say the word.”
“We’ll definitely take you up on that,” I tell him. “Want to come by tomorrow?”
Fang pulls his phone out and checks his calendar app. “Yeah, that works.”
“Oh, by the way,” Vapor says. “Church tomorrow at noon. My place.”
“Something up?” I frown because I haven’t heard about any new issues.
“Nothing to worry about right now.”
“Just some shit I found online,” Fang says.
“About Juan?” Isabella asks, shifting in her chair.
“No. He’s probably dead,” Vapor says. “Still keeping an eye out though, just in case.”
“Thank you. For everything.” She gives him a soft smile.
“Hate to eat and run, but we’ve got some shopping to do. Curtains and shit for the new house.”
“Look at Ice, all domesticated and shit,” Bones teases.
“You’ll be just as whipped as we are one day,” Vapor warns, waving a half-eaten chicken wing at him.
“God forbid.” Bones crosses himself.
“Uh, do Voodoo priests cross themselves like that?” Tank asks.
“Not a priest, just a practitioner.”
“Oh, can you read bones for me?” Vicki asks.
“Sure. Let me unpack my shit and when I find them, I’ll let you know.”
“How many people still need to move in?” I ask.
“Almost everyone’s got their boxes out of the inn. The only slackers are you guys,” Vapor says, pointing another chicken wing at me.
“We’re going as fast as we can.”
“Ever get her stuff from the compound?” Vicki asks.
“No. I’m never going back for it either,” Isabella says. “All that stuff is a part of my past now. I don’t want it. I’m only bringing my new stuff to the house.”
“Just what she’s got in our room at the inn,” I say.
“It’s one room,” Fang says, snickering. “Stop fucking for a few hours and you’ll be done moving in no time.”
“Not possible.” A slow, huge grin spreads across my face, while Isabella’s turns a delightful shade of pink. “Speaking of which, we gotta go.”
“Babe!” Isabella raises her eyebrows, giving me an exasperated look.
“What? They’re all here. No one’s back at the inn. Won’t have to muffle the screams into your pillow.”
“I’m literally going to kill you when we get there.” She grabs her paper plate and heads for the trash.
“She’s going to slap the shit out of you.” Vapor chuckles.
“As she should,” Blue says, siding with her new best friend.
“Just turn the damn music up,” Tank says. “The rest of us still have shit to move.”
“Like you’re one to talk,” Bones says, glancing past Tank to where Vicki’s smirking.
“He is a screamer,” she says.
“I am not.”
“Am too.”
“Children!” Vapor shakes his head. “See you tomorrow, Ice. Night, Isabella.”
After saying our goodbyes to everyone, we get on my bike and head back to the inn. Once we’re inside the room, I turn to Isabella.
“There’s only one thing I want to pack right now.” I grab her waist and pull her hard against me.
“The bathroom stuff?” she asks in a tone that is far too innocent.
“No, baby. That sweet, sweet pussy.”
I thread my fingers through her long, dark hair, pulling her closer as our lips collide in a fiery kiss. The world outside the NOLA Inn fades away, all the chaos of my life with the UVMC NOLA and her ties to Los Serpientes de Cristal evaporating in the heat between us. My heart hammers against my chest, not from the thrill of a high-speed chase or the rush of a close call, but from something deeper, more intimate.
“Is this real?” she whispers, her breath hitching as my lips trail kisses across her throat.
“It is. You’re mine now, and I’m going to give you the world. Or at least as much of it as I can. But first, I want you. Right here, right now,” I murmur.
The room is filled with the soft notes of jazz music drifting in through the open window, mingling with the distant hum of Bourbon Street. But none of it compares to the melody we create together. Our bodies move in sync as if we’ve been making love for years instead of months. Her slender yet athletic frame fits perfectly against mine, and I savor the contrast of her smooth skin against the rough ink that marks my arms.
We move together, quickening our pace until every touch feels like a promise, every look holds a secret, and every sigh is a testament to what we’re building—a sanctuary amidst the tumult of our lives. She is fierce and strong, passionate beyond belief. And I want her to reach the height of ecstasy before I follow her into a state of rapturous bliss.
Pressing on, I find the sweet spot that sends her soaring. She screams my name, clawing her nails down my back and wrapping her thighs tighter. It’s almost impossible to move now, but I’m a man possessed. I thrust deep, reveling in the pulse of her body around mine. And when I finally crest the wave, I crash, shattering into a million glittery shards of bliss.
Cuddling her close, I whisper soft words about our future together. I’ve lived in the shadows for so long, I almost forgot what the light felt like. But she reminds me—every touch, every laugh, every whispered promise. She’s the reason I believe in something beyond the club, beyond the fight. She’s my peace, my fire, my forever. She gives me hope that the future will be much brighter than the past. I’ll be able to face even the most deviant hearts because her love will bring me peace. No matter what the future holds, from now on, we’ll ride it out together.
***