Chapter Fifteen #2
After Blue and I snuck across the hall, we showered together, dressed, and now, we made our way to the chapel. We’d definitely changed. He smiled, teased, and kissed. Oh my god, my lips were tender, but I’d spend forever kissing him.
I’d braided my hair, pulled on jeans, and a hoodie since we would be on the bike. Besides my NA meeting, my only other plan for today was to talk to Blade.
Dust motes floated in the sun coming through the stained glass windows of the chapel. Coffee brewed in the automatic drip coffeepot behind the bar. And Cruz sat at a table with Rogue and Bullet.
Blue paused beside me.
“Late sleepers,” Rogue said, kicking out a chair with his foot, then taking a long drag off his cigarette.
Cruz leaned his elbows on the table, and his knee bounced at a thousand RPMs.
A coil of nerves snaked through my belly. Bullet sipped his coffee, but his gaze never wavered from Blue. Cruz had yet to look at me or Blue.
“Do you have a way to get home?” Rogue asked me.
“I’ll take her,” Blue said.
Rogue tapped ash from his cigarette. “Nah. We have a few things to discuss.”
Bullet slapped Cruz on his back. “Your brother here knows the Heller code. He isn’t saying shit, but the thing is, Rogue and I feel like we’re being left out again.” Bullet curled his meaty palm around his coffee mug .
Blue stiffened beside me. “I need to get Kiss to her NA meeting.” He held my hand and took two steps back toward his room.
“Blue.” The low menacing tone of Rogue’s voice made me stop. “I’ll haul your ass to the basement and beat the truth out of you.”
Bullet laughed, and Rogue stubbed out his cigarette.
I lifted my gaze to Blue. “If trusting Rogue means I won’t lose you…”
I didn’t know how much to say. I remembered Rogue telling Jazzy he wouldn’t lose Blue to a junkie. He hadn’t been faking how much he cared about Blue. And then, even though he hadn’t actually admitted it, he’d fought for me to stay in the club.
Because he cared about Blue.
I lowered my voice. “What happened to you isn’t anyone’s business. But you and Cruz could get in trouble if anything goes wrong. Rogue and Bullet live by their own rules. Felonies are like foreplay for them when they’re going to fuck someone up. You know you can trust them.”
Blue glanced over my shoulder. “I need to take Kiss to her NA meeting. But I can come back.”
“I can call a rideshare,” I said.
Cruz stood. “McKelle is in my room. I’ll get her.”
“I’ll ask her.” I hurried away from Blue. The suffocating tension in the room made it hard to breathe. Blue might not want to tell them about his past, but I had a feeling Rogue and Bullet were going to be persuasive. I had to admit, knowing Bullet and Rogue had Blue’s back made me breathe a little easier.
Carl Douglas needed to pay for what he’d done to Blue. Vigilante justice. Heller justice .
The corridor was quiet. I gently knocked on Cruz’s door, and it instantly swung open.
“What’s going on?” McKelle asked. “Cruz and I were about to leave. Bullet and Rogue stopped us. I’ve never been so scared. Rogue and Bullet are scary as fuck. They confronted Cruz about Blue. One word from Rogue, ‘Out,’ in that tone he has, and I was gone. So, tell me, what is going on?”
“I don’t know,” I said because technically, I didn’t know exactly what was going on, but I knew why Rogue and Bullet were pissed.
Last night, they’d seen Blue and Cruz conspiring in the corner. After what happened with Sam and Kane, I didn’t need to be a brilliant mastermind to guess they sensed trouble.
“I need a favor,” I said. “Can you take me to the community center downtown? There’s an NA meeting at ten.” I chewed on my lip, worried she’d say no. “It’s a pretty big part of my recovery.”
“Absolutely.” She grabbed a black and pink helmet from the dresser. “Do you have a helmet?”
“You ride?” I asked.
She laughed. “Yes, but Harleys are for criminally inclined alcoholics looking for old ladies. I’m more of an energy-drinking thrill-seeker. I admit, I have a weakness for a thirst trap on a red Ducati. Don’t tell Cruz.”
“How did I not know this about you?”
“Because I’m usually riding on the back of Cruz’s bike. Do you want to be my backpack for the day?”
“Hell, yes.”
“You know Hellers don’t let their lays ride on the back of another bike. ”
“Blue will have to get over it. I’ll be your biker bitch for the day.”
She laughed. “I’m not a total squid.”
Sport bike people were known as squids. Stupidly quick, underdressed and imminently dead.
“At least not most of the time,” McKelle continued. “I don’t worry about gear when I ride with Cruz. I should. There’s a helmet in the basement. I don’t know who it belongs to, but I doubt anyone would care if we borrow it.”
I followed her down the stairs. The old wood and the musty scents of the basement filled my nose and reminded me of playing down here when we were kids. Playing, as in kissing and making out. The guys would pretend to be tough and punch each other until they were bruised.
More missed memories.
McKelle flipped on the light and nostalgia rolled over me in a warm wave. She went to the far side of the room and plucked the gun-metal gray helmet from the shelf. Using her palm, she brushed the dust and a cobweb from the face shield.
She laughed and handed it to me. “It’s Jazzy’s.”
Jazzy had used a thick black marker to write her name on the inside. I tried it on, then checked my phone for the time.
“Don’t worry, she said. “I’m fast.”
I snapped off the light and followed McKelle up the stairs. I headed to my room, grabbed my ID, and met her in the hall.
Back in the chapel, Bullet had his arms crossed, staring at Blue. Rogue smoked a cigarette. Blue sat next to him, his head bowed, and his bent elbows on his knees. He looked miserable. Gone was the flirting Blue who ticked off a list of all the ways he wanted to fuck me while we were in the shower.
As soon as Cruz spotted us, he said something to everyone at the table. Talk stopped, and Blue’s gaze snapped to me.
He stood, and my heart skipped into a wild flutter, then felt as if he’d taken a sledgehammer to my chest. I hurt for him. He’d never wanted to acknowledge his past, and he didn’t want people to see his scars. I knew because I was going to reveal mine to Blade.
Blue’s mouth pulled into a hard line, and shadows darkened his eyes. I hated this. I hated that he had to expose his perceived weaknesses. He wasn’t though. He’d been a victim, became a survivor, and now, some would see what he was about to do as becoming the antihero. Vigilantes didn’t ask permission. And neither did Hellers.
Cruz approached and kissed McKelle. “Later.” Then he went back to the table.
Blue pointed to the helmet.
“It’s Jazzy’s,” I said.
“Why do you have it?”
McKelle pulled on her helmet. “Because she’s riding with me.”
Blue furrowed his brow. “The fuck she is.”
I stood on my tiptoes and wrapped one arm around his neck. “I am.”
I kissed him. I’d planned a quick kiss, but his arm banded around my waist, my lips parted, and his tongue swirled against mine. Holy shit, he didn’t just kiss me. I felt the possession from the heat of his mouth to the tips of my toes.
He gripped my braid, angled my head, and kissed me deeper. Lost in the delirium of his mouth on mine, one hand in my hair, the other cupping my jaw, I surrendered. A low moan rumbled between us. I wasn’t sure if it was me or Blue, but he gripped me tighter, inhaling my scent, then resting his forehead against mine.
“Be safe,” he said against my lips. Then he glared at McKelle. “You ride with her on your bike like you do on the track, and I’ll fucking chop your bike for parts.”
McKelle rolled her eyes. “Sheesh. You’ve never seen me on the track.”
“You race bikes?” I asked. “I want to be you when I grow up.”
Outside in the lot, we walked to the backside of the property.
“Cruz won’t let me park near the real bikes.” She slipped on her helmet. “Positioning is different.” McKelle slid the key into the ignition of her white BMW with its sleek fairings. I could only imagine how the Hellers would bristle at a sportbike in their line of chrome and steel.
She climbed onto the bike. “Tap my belly if you need me to stop. Don’t let go of me, even at a light. When I brake, you can rest a hand on the tank.”
“Got it. Do you know where we’re going?”
She nodded, and I buckled the strap on the helmet, lowered the visor, and climbed on behind her. She slowly rode out of the lot.
Blue and Cruz stood in the doorway of the MC. McKelle and I both waved, then she twisted the throttle. The engine screamed more than rumbled as she whipped out of the compound and raced toward downtown.
** *
Sportbike people were just like Harley riders. Birds of a feather obviously did flock together. McKelle turned into the parking lot and rode straight over to the two sportbikes parked near the entrance to the community center.
She killed the engine, jumped from the bike, ripped her helmet off, and gawked at the Yamaha. “Sweet ride. YZF R1,” she said. “This bike is practically track ready.”
“Thanks for bringing me. If you don’t want to stay, I’m sure I can find a ride home.”
McKelle tucked her motorcycle key into her pocket. “I’ll stay. They’re not going to ask me to share or anything, are they?”
“I don’t think so. We can sit in the back.” Before we walked through the door, I paused. “Yesterday was a shit day,” I said and explained about Janie.
“Fuck, Kiss, I’m so sorry.”
Ansel was behind the desk. I introduced McKelle. “She’s just here for support. Is that okay?”
“Absolutely. I’m glad you made it,” he said to me.
McKelle and I walked toward the meeting room. “They have cookies and coffee.”
“Oh, thank god. I’m starving.”
I glanced around, expecting to see Georgia filling her mouth and her backpack with cookies. We migrated toward the snack table. “I’ve only been to a couple meetings. I don’t know anyone except this girl Georgia. But she’s not here. And Ryatt and Brad. They are always together.”
McKelle cocked a brow.
“Not like that. I mean, maybe like that, but I don’t think so. Anyway, Ryatt rides the R1. Brad rides the Ninja. ”
I piled a couple of chocolate chip cookies on a napkin then filled a coffee cup. McKelle did the same. More people filed into the room and staked out seats in the clusters of chairs.
I pointed to a couple of seats in the back. Should I save a place for the others? I mean, I didn’t really know them, but we’d exchanged numbers and agreed to be there for each other, like a sponsor team.
“Hi.” Strong arms wrapped around me from behind.
I squealed. “Asshole,” I snapped and slugged Ryatt in the gut. “You scared me.”
He laughed and feigned injury by doubling over. “Fuck, I’m just fucking glad you’re here.”
Brad pulled me into a hug. “Have you heard from Georgia?”
I hugged him back. “No.” But I hadn’t expected to. She was nice, but I hadn’t connected with her the same way I had with Janie.
He glanced around the room. “I was hoping she’d be here.” He flared his nostrils on a harsh inhale. “I’m worried about her.” He turned to Ryatt, then back to me. “We were worried about you, too, when we didn’t see you.”
“Text her,” I said.
“She hasn’t answered.” Brad fired off another text. “I’m fucking worried. Without Janie, I don’t know if she has anywhere to go. We rode out to Janie’s apartment this morning to see if she wanted a ride to the meeting. She was going to stay there while Janie was visiting her family, but no one answered.”
“Maybe Ansel can help,” I said.
Brad shrugged. “NA is voluntary.” He elbowed Ryatt in the ribs. “Except for this asshole. ”
Ryatt wagged his brows at McKelle. “Court ordered treatment. This was one of the options.”
“This is my friend McKelle. Ryatt and Brad,” I said and pointed at each of them as I said their names.
Brad pointed to our helmets. “I know our girl Kiss is riding behind a Heller.”
“Not today,” I interrupted. “I’m backpacking my girl.”
“What do you ride?” Ryatt asked since we were both holding helmets.
“BMW S1000RR with a pearl white wrap.”
Brad whistled.
And then the bike talk started. Ryatt sat on the edge of a table, regaling McKelle with near death experiences on his R1 last week.
McKelle tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled. Was she flirting? At an NA meeting? With my group sponsor? When our boyfriends were getting their asses chewed by the two meanest, most intimidating Hellers in the MC?
Oh, fuck no. No flirting. No hair flipping.
“I need another cookie,” I said. “Excuse us.” I grabbed McKelle. “Save our seats,” I said to Brad as I dragged McKelle toward the cookies and coffee. “What are you doing?”
She smiled as she glanced over her shoulder. “Ryatt’s hot. And he’s nice.”
“He’s a felon. Did you miss the part where he said court ordered treatment?”
“Blue and Cruz are felons.” Her lips twisted with a smirk. “Ryatt just got caught.”
“NA meetings aren’t the best place for hookups.”
“Good,” she said with a tone of sauciness. “Because I’m not interested in fucking him. But he wants to talk sportbikes, not Harleys so he might just be my new best friend.” She chomped into a cookie.
I snorted and grabbed a cookie. “I thought that’s what I was.”
Ansel entered the room, and we hurried back to our seats, although Brad, McKelle, and Ryatt took over the focus of the meeting. At least for me. Their huddled discussion included the pros and cons of engine size, brand, and gearing.
Once the meeting was over, I left McKelle with Brad and Ryatt and joined Ansel at the front of the room.
“If you hear from Georgia, will you let me know?” I asked him.
“Give her a couple days. She’ll be back.” A sad smile hinted at his lips, almost as if he hoped that what he said would be true. He took a breath to say something then sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “I thought about you last night.”
I nervously shifted from my right foot to my left. Please, don’t make this awkward. I needed the NA meetings. I’d just finished scolding McKelle for vibing with Ryatt. I know I hadn’t given any mixed signals to any guy because I was only into Blue.
“Sometimes, letting go of friendships is the hardest part of getting clean. We put ourselves in situations that have the possibility of jeopardizing our sobriety.”
The we and our in his advice was actually me and my , but he didn’t need to worry. I’d never been this committed to anything in my life. Sobriety was important because Blue had slipped into my veins better than any drug. Only there wasn’t the high followed by the crash or the need to do anything to get the next hit.
There was just us. Broken pieces who fit together perfectly. “It wasn’t hard for me, not this time. ”
He rested his left butt cheek on the table and folded his hands in his lap. “I know you haven’t been here long, but you’ll make friends.” He paused, and the mask of keeping it together slipped a little. His mouth pinched making his mustache twitch. “I’m going to miss her.” He blinked back tears. “I know everyone is hurting. I just wanted to check in with you.” He stood and smoothed down his pants. “I’m worried about Georgia.”
“If the guys or I hear something, we’ll let you know, too.”
He nodded, and when I turned to go back to McKelle, she, Brad, and Ryatt were gone.
At the chairs, I grabbed my helmet off the floor, stomped to the reception area, and scanned the room. Nope. Not here either. I shoved open the main door to the parking lot.
Of course, they were gathered around the bikes.
Ryatt handed McKelle his cigarette. She took a drag, then handed it back. When she saw me, she waved. I was pissed, but I hadn’t figured out the reason why yet.
Whispering through the meeting. Yep.
Latching on to the only two people in the room I’d connected with. Um, yes, that, too.
Leaving me in there like I was an afterthought. Add that one, too. I knew the feeling of being discarded well. There was a time it would have made me feel so insecure I’d want nothing more than to get high.
I continued making a mental list.
Acting as if she hadn’t done anything wrong. In my book, she had. So, check that one as a yes.
“We wanted to give you privacy with Ansel,” Brad said. “He’s taking Janie’s death pretty hard. ”
Okay. We were all hurting because of Janie. That they’d noticed Ansel’s hurt, when they were feeling it too, was exceptionally empathetic on their part. Not a usual trait for addicts. I erased a couple of irritants off my list.
“I didn’t want you to feel rushed by standing around waiting for you.” McKelle’s gaze assuaged my mounting irritation.
I didn’t have anything left on my list to be pissed about. I’d been bitchy and a bit jealous that she’d fit in so easily with Brad and Ryatt.
“Are you ready to go?” she asked me.
I nodded and tugged on my helmet.
Brad gave me a hug. “I’ll let you know when I hear from her.” The crack in his voice revealed just how worried he was about Georgia.
“DM me if you want to ride some time,” Ryatt said to McKelle.
After they shared contact information, we all rode out of the parking lot. Ryatt and Brad took a left, and we headed back toward the MC.