Break Out (Riot MC Next Generation #1)

1. Jade

Chapter 1

Jade

Simone

I crossed University Avenue with my eyes on Vicious Vinyl feeling relief, accomplishment, and excitement. I’d done it. The final exam for my last class was over, and my Computer Engineering degree was in the bag. To say this was cause for celebration was an understatement.

The only thing weighing on me was that Jordan, my boyfriend, wouldn’t be getting his degree this December, too. He’d dropped an important class earlier in the semester, and resigned himself to finishing next spring. Once it was clear I would graduate in December, Jordan arranged to move in with his buddy, Chet. Jordan had finished his semester earlier this week, and he’d spent the last few days boxing his stuff.

I’d asked him on Tuesday if things were cool with us. He’d smiled and said, “Of course they are.”

Still, that little voice wouldn’t leave me alone. Then again, I hadn’t seen him much the last three days because I was studying or sleeping while he was packing. Our Friday night tradition was to meet up across from campus at Vicious Vinyl, a “high-end dive bar.” I didn’t understand how a true dive bar could be high-end. (Weren’t they supposed to be seedy?) But I loved the contrary notion, and their Old Fashioned couldn’t be beat.

As I squeezed through the crowds inside, my excitement grew. Finally, I found the usual suspects I called friends. Everyone stood in a circle since tables were hard to come by after finals. I moved so I stood behind Jordan, but I didn’t push closer since he was mid-conversation.

“Oh, man! Don’t get me started,” Jordan said, leaning toward Chet. I smiled because I loved how animated he became. “I don’t know what was worse. How she latched onto a single phrase saying it over and over again, or how immature she could be. Putting olives on all of her fingers and buying those cheap-ass vanilla ring cookies so she could wear them on her pinkie.”

I did those things with the olives and cookies, but he’d always said I was cute.

He wasn’t talking about me, was he?

“She doesn’t glom onto phrases,” Lisette said.

Jordan’s head reared back and he almost bumped into me – proving he was oblivious to my presence. “If I had a fuckin’ dollar for every time she asked me ‘Have you’ve lost your mind,’ I could pay for all of our tabs tonight.”

To be fair, I rarely asked him, I outright said he’d lost his mind. At this juncture, he sure as hell had lost his mind.

I felt eyes on me, and noticed Tennyson staring at me. She cleared her throat and touched Jordan’s bicep.

He turned, blanched for all of a moment, and then shrugged. His hazel eyes had the tell-tale sheen that comes from being tipsy, if not drunk. “Simmy, what are you doing here? We’re done. I thought you figured that out.” Jordan’s voice hit me harder since the blaring pop music inside the bar forced him to yell.

My rage split like a two-headed beast coming to life. Did women named Kim get as outraged at being called ‘Kimmy’? Maybe not, but it was one helluva stretch to take Simone and use Simmy as the diminutive.

Add his condescending tone, the fact our four closest friends were gathered around, and the way Tennyson stood so close to him, I felt like laying into him with the force of a sledge hammer.

Yet, as my dad and all my ‘uncles’ had taught me, that gave assholes the upper hand. Every time.

I glanced at everyone in the group. Their discomfort was visible. I nodded, considered saying something, but turned around and left.

“Simone!” Lisette yelled after me.

I looked over my shoulder – tears threatened, but I blinked them back.

She caught up to me. “I honestly didn’t know—”

“That makes two of us. Have a great night.”

“Do you need anything?”

I needed a stiff drink, but I’d be damned if I stayed here.

After a deep breath, I aimed a blank expression at Lisette. “No, thanks. I’m gonna head home. His stuff is all gone, and if it isn’t, I need to move it into the hallway.”

She went back to the group and I shouldered my way through the crowd to the sidewalk. The December air hit me like a smack in the face. My nose stung with gathering tears. I clenched my teeth to will them away – never successful with that before, but it seemed today that record might change.

The door opened behind me, and I refused to look back.

“Simone, wait,” Jordan called.

I stopped. Lord knew why, because every instinct said to run, not walk to my Vespa. Problem was, it was on the other side of campus.

“Let me explain please,” Jordan said from behind me.

Ever the fool, I turned around.

One glimpse of him and clarity hit me. I recalled a strange interaction between us earlier in the day. I’d come out of the bathroom and into the living room where he sat sifting through his stuff. After a sideways glance of me in my form-fitting, black dress pants and dressy blouse, Jordan had asked if that was what I was wearing.

My bone-colored faux-leather top only bordered on being conservative since it looked like leather. I wanted to be slightly conservative for my Product and Process presentation. Bonus, it wasn’t dressy enough that I’d stand out like a sore thumb at the dive bar.

“Yeah, it is. Is there something wrong? A stain or something?” I’d asked.

His lip curled up a little. “No, it just looks like something a biker bitch would wear.”

Seeing as the top was a gift from Aunt Abby, wife and old lady to Blood, the Vice President of the Riot MC, Jordan wasn’t exactly wrong. Motorcycle club life had been both a point of connection and contention between us. My parents had encouraged me to move away for college and get out of the biker lifestyle. Jordan’s father wasn’t just an MC president, he was president to a mother chapter. Jordan hated that about his dad, because his dad had left when Jordan was five years old. He couldn’t fathom how a man could abandon his family for years. Any time I asked him which club his dad ran, Jordan refused to talk about it. He was that bitter.

With my hands behind my neck, I clasped my jade necklace. “To be fair, Jordan, a biker bitch would get this top in blood red or black, and she wouldn’t be in dress pants.”

His brows furrowed. “Those are dress pants?”

That conversation should have been my sign that things weren’t okay. Hell, the fact we hadn’t had sex in almost two months should have tipped me off – but I figured we were both busy.

A harsh gust of wind brought me out of my thoughts and I blew out a sigh. “What do you want, Jordan?”

He opened his mouth, closed it, and finally said, “It’s not that I don’t care about you.”

I stared at him and my chin lowered an inch. His words held no sincerity – not that I’d have believed him anyway.

He shrugged. “You’re from a family of bikers.”

“You knew that,” I reminded him.

“You even ride a Vespa around campus.”

I laughed. “You’ve got to be joking! A thousand other girls ride those things around campus and nobody looks twice. Please. Riding that thing is nothing like a bike. Hell, my dad and all his brothers want to get me off it. If you only heard the flack I get for my helmet alone.”

He shook his head. “Whatever, Simone. I need someone… different.”

I glanced past him. Tennyson stood holding the purple door of Vicious Vinyl open.

My focus shifted back to Jordan. “By all means, Tennyson’s waiting for you.”

“Don’t be like that, Simone. I’m trying to be… nice.” Jordan said.

I nodded. “Mission accomplished.”

My brain had felt like mush when I turned in my final exam. Now, my body moved as though some other force drove me. I wondered how I’d missed the signs, but then I realized I hadn’t. Not really. We’d been living together for more than two years, but his insistence on moving in with his buddy should have given me more cause for alarm. I’d argued against it, but in the end I gave in much easier than I would have a year prior.

As much as people talk about the power of love, it boggled my mind how falling out of love could be such a gradual experience. Things didn’t always end with an epic blow-up, and on some level that was more blindsiding. My heart was breaking, but it felt like a scab that had been reopened. I hadn’t understood how deep the cut ran until I’d been forced to acknowledge the pain.

I turned around and walked up the block. In a haze, I passed a coffee shop, a convenience store, and a few other places where I could have stopped and pulled myself together. While I waited for a walk signal to cross a side street, I contemplated an upscale tapas restaurant. A large group of guys sat outside. They were loud and getting rowdy. I didn’t want to be around that scene.

The signal changed and I kept moving. At the end of the block, I saw a hotel that housed a pizza place Jordan had refused to try. Some bullshit excuse about any restaurant inside a hotel was either over-priced, no good, or worse: both. The red door for Pi House caught my eye and snapped me out of my fog.

It seemed as though my life had turned to shambles with Jordan’s bombshell, but I still had plenty to celebrate. The more I thought about it, Jordan had done me a favor. He wouldn’t be around any more to criticize me or keep me from doing the things I wanted to do.

Yep, it was definitely time to party. Even as a mere party of one.

My stomach growled as I tugged open the heavy red door. The aroma of roasted garlic, fresh bread, and tomato sauce hit me the moment I stepped inside. From four feet to my left a middle-aged man with a pot belly crowed, “A girl like you should smile more.”

Rather than roll my eyes, I lifted my chin and walked toward the bar on the opposite side of the restaurant.

One empty bar stool beckoned to me even though two men who were probably in their forties sat on either side of it. I pulled out the stool, perched my ass on it, and slid my ID and credit card out of my pocket.

“Don’t listen to that prick,” a man with a deep, rumbly voice said.

I turned my head in his direction.

Ho… Lee… Schnikes , as Aunt Mallory would say. I had been wrong. This man wasn’t in his forties, more like late thirties. He had the sexiest wavy hair and wore a black t-shirt which struggled to encase his well-inked biceps. The dark stubble lining his angular cheeks almost distracted me from the gray hairs at the side of his head, but those grays only enhanced his appeal.

His brown eyes danced over my face, but I sensed malice would shine from his irises just as easily. He had an energy about him, like he was a leader and accustomed to being in charge. Then it hit me.

Power. He oozed power.

I shook myself out of what felt like a trance. “I’m sorry, don’t listen to what?”

His lush lips tipped up. “That asshole who told you to smile more. Don’t listen to him.”

That made me chuckle. “Trust me. No woman ever smiles because some dickhead tells them to.”

A deep rumble came from his direction and I realized he’d chuckled. “Good to know.”

“I’m surprised you heard him,” I said.

His teeth flashed in a small smile. “Hard not to. He’s been obnoxious since I got here, drunk for about the last hour. If I’d wanted to deal with that, I’d have gone to the college bar five blocks down the street.”

“The same one I just left,” I muttered.

“Not your scene?”

I raised my brows and smiled. “Not any more. After today, I’m done being a college girl.”

The bartender made his way to me. “What can I get for you? If you have your student I.D. we have half-price shooters and slices.”

I felt my eyes light up and I put my student I.D. on the bar. “Fabulous. I’ll take a slice with pepperoni and black olives and two fingers of Jack Daniel’s Honey.”

The bartender grimaced. “Discount is only for well drinks.”

I shrugged a shoulder. “That’s cool. Believe me, today calls for the JD Honey.”

The bartender turned to enter my order and the man next to me chuckled again. I glanced at him.

“Doesn’t look like you’re done being a college girl.”

I tilted my hands up. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for a deal.”

He stared at me, those brown eyes weren’t dancing any more. They examined me. It should have made me uncomfortable, but I adored having his scrutiny.

His full lips formed the slightest smile. “Why does today call for Jack Daniel’s?”

I grinned. “Honey, don’t forget the honey.”

He closed his eyes and I watched his chest rise with a deep breath. His brow arched and he opened his eyes. “Right. What’s the occasion, Jade?”

Did he just give me a nickname?

I loved that even more than him staring at me.

“I finished my degree today. That’s a pretty big deal in my book, and anything worth celebrating deserves Jack.” My head cocked to the side. “Why did you call me Jade?”

He brought his left hand up to stroke his chin. No wedding band on his finger… though he wore two very thick, heavy-looking gold rings on his index and middle fingers. What was wrong with me? Why did I care about a wedding ring? He had a good eighteen years on me, and I’d just been dumped.

His deep voice cut into my thoughts. “Don’t know your name yet. I noticed your jade necklace. The name Jade suits you. Great piece, by the way.”

I blushed and grabbed my jade dragon out of habit. “Thanks. It’s one of my favorites.”

He kept staring at me and I couldn’t tear my eyes from him. Heat gathered in my belly.

He should scare me, but I couldn’t remember ever being so attracted to someone.

The soft thud of a glass hitting the bar in front of me interrupted the moment. I turned to see the bartender walking away, a high-ball glass of amber liquid sat on a cocktail napkin.

I grabbed the glass. Thick, warm fingers curled around my wrist. The warmth of his fingers practically seeped into my skin and that warm sensation shot straight to my breasts.

“It’s not a celebration without a toast,” he said.

I twisted my body an inch toward him. “You’re right.”

He let go of my wrist and picked up his glass which was half-full. “To great pieces…” He paused while his eyes went to my necklace. He continued, “And higher education.”

The inuendo in that toast had to be in my head. It was a very bold and sly toast, even if it bordered on being crass.

I clinked my glass to his. “Cheers.”

I took a huge swig of whiskey and swallowed. That burn was like nothing else and boy, did it cure what ailed me.

The man sitting next to me helped, too.

He leaned toward me and nudged my shoulder with his. “Not judging here, Jade, but Jack was made to be sipped.”

I smiled. “It’s not all gowns and tassels in my world…” I paused, trying to find a decent nickname for him on-the-fly, but I failed at shit like that. Finally, I said, “Handsome.”

He chuckled. “You think I’m handsome?”

With a pointed look, I pursed my lips. “Like you don’t know. But, I don’t know your name either.”

Warmth filled his eyes. “Steel.”

I looked at him expectantly. “That’s it? Is that your first name or last name? Or is that some sort of dramatic intro? Steel… Jim Steel.”

He huffed out another chuckle. “No, Jade. Everyone calls me Steel.”

I dragged my fingernails under my chin to scratch an itch. Steel seemed like a road name for a biker, but that was ludicrous. For one thing, he wasn’t wearing a cut, and the Harley dealership was out near I-75 with plenty of hotel options nearby. For another thing, I sensed he was here on business – and not of the biker variety. The name fit him though, and it was a common last name.

After a moment, I nodded. “Okay, Steel. I’m Simone.”

He nodded slowly. “Gorgeous name. From what you said, you’re not just celebrating.”

I shrugged and sipped my drink. “Pretty much, but the more I think on it, I’m pretty sure a lame break-up is worth celebrating more than my degree.”

He looked at me askance. “You got dumped?”

I nodded and finished my drink. “It was a slow dump, too. Which makes me feel like a dumbass.”

Steel scoffed. “ He’s the dumbass.”

The bartender brought out a plate of wings for Steel and put my plate of pizza in front of me. He spied my empty glass. “Another Jack Daniel’s Honey or something else?”

I nodded and handed my credit card to the bartender.

Steel said, “Add hers to my tab. And I’ll take another Old Fashioned.”

“Yes, sir,” the bartender said.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said, looking up at Steel.

His eyes darted side to side as he stared into my eyes. “Yeah, I do, Jade. A gorgeous woman like you has something huge to celebrate, she doesn’t pick up that tab. I do. Eat your pizza.”

The authority in his tone lit something inside me. Normally that something would be my temper, but with him, it was like all reason went out the window.

“You’re bossy,” I blurted.

“Look at me Jade,” he said.

I did as ordered. There it was – a hint of malice shining from his eyes along with the power. That was so attractive, I felt it in my nipples, my pussy, and right down to my tingling toes.

He grinned. “You have no idea how bossy I can be.”

My teeth sunk into my lower lip. “Then show me.”

Oh shit! Did I really just say that?

My girl Alexandra would smack me upside my head if she’d heard that. Then she’d remind me that it’s better to keep your cards close to your chest. Something about being with Steel made me aggressive and assertive.

He eyed me for a long moment. Just as I expected blatant rejection, he said, “I’ll think about it. Now eat your pizza, Simone. I don’t like to repeat myself.”

“Yes, sir.”