8. Maverick
Chapter eight
Maverick
I hadn’t planned on this—bringing Katie into my world. She was being brave about it, but I could feel the way she clutched me a little too tightly on the bike as we followed the Reckless Order to their clubhouse.
And when Pretty Boy called her Bunny, I saw red.
I knew he didn’t mean anything by it. Just testing the waters to see how I would react, and to get a rise out of me, the bastard. But my hackles went up at the idea that anyone else would even think about her like that.
Fuck, this was probably a bad idea.
Ever since I was a kid, I’d been protective of women. Watching my single mother valiantly fighting all on her own made me angry at the world for placing a heavy burden on the shoulders of such a soft-spoken, kind-hearted woman.
Then the cancer poisoned her bones, and she lost weight so rapidly that she became a shadow of her former self. And yet somehow, she still managed to remain gentle, touching my cheek with a tender smile just for me.
I would never forget standing at her hospital bedside, with a black eye and a split lip, hanging my head in shame when the school put me in detention for two weeks.
“You’ve been fighting again, my sweet boy,” she had whispered with so much pain and disappointment in her voice.
I had curled my fingers into fists at my sides, grinding my teeth, glaring at the floor.
“They hit her.”
Silence had filled my mother’s hospital room, punctuated by her shallow, raspy breathing, and the beep of the machines she’d been hooked up to. I’d lifted my head and met my mother’s gaze.
“The new girl at school," I added. "A group of boys were bullying her. They pushed her to the ground and laughed at her. She was crying. One of them hit her and told her to stop being a baby. So I…I told them to leave her alone. But they wouldn’t. And then we got into a fight.”
My mother had sighed and stroked my hair, kissing my forehead.
“My fearless little warrior.”
After my mother died when I was fourteen, I was shipped off to my deadbeat uncle, the spitting image of my no-good father who had abandoned me and my mother in the first place. He was just as quick to raise his hand to me as dear old Dad used to be, so I didn’t last three days before I packed my shit and never looked back.
I reached behind me, caressing Katie’s calf and up to her thigh. When I first met her, I’d been hellbent on corruption, but that wasn’t really true. She was achingly sweet and gentle and pure.
I’d seen the world snuff out women like that, my mother being one of them.
And the level of corruption I had in mind probably had more to do with an all-consuming drive to protect, to guard, to claim. To imprint myself on her skin and let her know that she was safe with me.
When we pulled up to the clubhouse and parked, I turned to Katie, helping her unbuckle her helmet and remove it.
“If you’re uncomfortable at any time,” I said. “We can leave. Just say the word.”
“I’ll be fine. If anyone comes near me, you’ll bare your teeth and scare them off.”
Damn straight, I thought.
The clubhouse was a ratty old brick building that used to be a glass bottle factory back in the day. The second floor had been converted into a living space, complete with six rooms for anyone who needed a warm bed for the night.
Katie slipped her arm into the crook of my elbow as we entered the clubhouse. The main floor plans had been left intact, creating a wide open area for a pool table, jukebox, a bar, and half a dozen tables. Low, dim lighting barely illuminated the club pictures that lined the walls and the cuts from previous members that had passed away or retired.
“Guests are in the house tonight, boys,” Hillbilly called. “I’d appreciate it if one of you knuckleheads would rope Maverick into a game of poker and wipe the floor with his ass. The rat bastard cheated me out of three grand last time he was in town, and I’m still sore about it.”
“I didn’t cheat,” I protested. “You’re shit at poker. Texas hold 'em is a different matter. That’s why I weasel my way out the door when you start dealing.”
Hillbilly huffed a dry laugh.
“I knew it, you little chicken shit. Have a seat, make yourselves at home.”
“I could give Katie a tour,” Pretty Boy offered. He propped his elbows on the bar and leaned back with a lazy flick of his wrist. “Show her around. Give her a taste of club life.”
I slid my palm down to rest on Katie’s lower back, guiding her into a nearby booth.
“Over my dead body.”
Pretty Boy chuckled. When I settled into the booth next to Katie, she curled her hand around my bicep, just like she did in the Rusty Elk when we first met. A subtly possessive gesture of her own to serve as a reminder that she wasn’t interested in anyone else except me.
She gave a small smile, searching my face with her big blue stare that seemed to cut right to my heart every damn time.
“You sound more like enemies than friends,” she said.
“It’s just biker talk, dove.”
Hillbilly circled around the bar and retrieved two beers from the refrigerator, placing them on our table.
“Insults come with the territory, sweetheart,” he said. “As long as nobody starts swingin', it’s all in good fun. Pretty Boy chases a few club bunnies once in a while to scratch the itch, but his heart ain’t in it most of the time. He’s been moonin’ after my Lila like a lovesick calf for years, and she won’t give him the time of day.”
Pretty Boy scoffed and pushed away from the bar.
“She’s stubborn like her old man.”
Hillbilly shook his head.
“If you think that will ever change, you’re in for a world of disappointment, son.”
Katie glanced at me with a questioning look at the mention of club bunnies. I shifted closer, pressing my leg against hers, and hooked my hand over her thigh. Clearing my throat, I changed the subject.
“Where are those burgers you promised, Prez? My girl here is starving.”
Time flew as I swapped stories with the Reckless Order. Hillbilly tried to rope me into a game of pool, but I didn’t budge from Katie’s side. I didn’t want anyone making a move on her when I wasn’t looking. Even though she was my guest, I had no claim on Katie, and an unclaimed woman in a club would have men sniffing around like hounds on the hunt.
Katie remained quiet, observing, her big blue eyes taking it all in. At one point, I caught her staring at the tattoos on my arm, tracing the lines with her fingertip. I brushed my knuckles against her cheek, nuzzling into her neck in the hopes I could pull her out of whatever reverie she’d drifted off into.
“How are you holding up, dove? Sick of these rowdy assholes yet?”
Katie gave a tired smile but she shook her head. Wrapping her arms fully around my bicep, she rested her head on my shoulder.
“You could stay, you know,” she whispered.
Fuck. A kick in the gut would have hurt less than the raw hope in her voice. Unguarded. Vulnerable. I sighed.
“Katie—”
“You’ve been enjoying yourself,” she continued. “Aside from Pretty Boy, you seem to get along with everyone here. And Pleasant View isn’t that far away from Misty Mountain. You could move in with me, or I could move in with you if you decided to be closer to the club…”
I should have been prepared for this. Should have seen it coming a mile away. Katie was the type to fall in love hard— the kind of love that lasted for a lifetime. And she was already planning out a future between us that was never supposed to exist in the first place.
It would break her heart when I had to leave.
And for the first time, a tug in my gut said, I don’t want to go.
I scrubbed the back of my neck, unnerved by that revelation.
As a boy, home had never truly felt like home—an abusive father who abandoned us, a sick mother so desperately trying to pour her love into me before she was gone, poverty, endless hunger, and the anger seething in my gut that none of it was fucking fair.
Life on the road was easier. Since I never put down roots, I never had anything to lose. I didn’t have to be that helpless boy again, watching what should have been my home and my family crumble beneath me and I was powerless to stop it.
“Just because I can play nice for an hour or two doesn’t mean it would work out long term,” I countered.
“But what if it did?” Katie protested.
I blew out a breath. Before I could reply, Hillbilly called from across the room.
“It’s now or never, Maverick. We’re takin’ bets and money is on the table. Pretty Boy, Viper, and Brass say you’ll remain a nomad until your dyin’ day. But I still believe I can wear you down, and I’m stakin’ three hundred bucks on that.”
“All you do is bleed cash when I’m around, Hillbilly,” I said.
“Katie, sweetheart, back me up. Work your wiles on Maverick, bat those pretty eyes at him. Convince him to join the Order. We could use him in our ranks.”
Katie met my gaze, chewing the inside of her cheek.
“They want you here,” she said softly. Lowering her voice, she added, “I want you here.”
God, she was killing me. Under normal circumstances, I’d fire off a glib response, then haul ass out of town, pushing the limits of my speedometer.
But I found my tongue glued to the roof of my mouth, and I couldn’t say a damn thing.
Katie seemed to interpret my silence perfectly though. The hope in her eyes went dark and she lowered her gaze, releasing her grip on my arm.
“It’s getting late,” she said. “You should take me home.”
After saying our good-byes to the club, Katie and I rode back to Misty Mountain while the sun slipped below the horizon—a reminder that our time together was coming to an end. When I parked outside her apartment building, she climbed off my bike and handed my helmet to me with a small, bittersweet smile.
“I had fun today,” she said. “And I bet you’re itching to move on by now.”
Not really, I thought.
“Off the top of my head, I have at least a dozen more things I could teach you before I hit the highway.”
Katie’s smile faltered and she twisted her fingers together, glancing away. Then she shook her head.
“No, I…I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
A beat of silence settled between us. Then she gave a half-hearted wave and made her way to the entrance of her building.
It was always meant to end like this, with Katie and I going our separate ways. We both knew that from the very beginning. Gripping the handlebars of my bike, I tore my gaze away from her retreating figure and focused on the road.
Then I shut the engine off.
“Katie,” I called.
She paused at the threshold of her apartment building.
Striding up the sidewalk, I captured her soft, curvy body in my arms, and sealed my mouth to hers in a hard, hungry kiss.