BOOK 3
Sawyer
I wince as the phone chimes. It’s early, I know that much. I ignore the ringing and roll over, pulling the comforter over my head.
It rings again. I crack an eye open, about to lean over and throw the damn thing until I hear the ringtone. Goddamn it.
Nova has been meddling with my phone again, the little sneak.
I know this because ‘Baby Got Back’ blares at the loudest decibel. For one, I’m sure I don’t own that song, and second, it’s just like Nova to pull a stunt like this and call me in the middle of the night just for kicks. She’s become a friend. One of my best friends, to be exact.
We flirt, but we’ve crossed no boundaries. That could be because I work for her three older cousins who are all in various stages of utterly terrifying. The Nomad Brothers.
Brew and Haze are both bikers with the NOLA Rebels MC, as am I, and Logan just does his own thing—running a bar downtown on Bourbon Street. The Nomad Brothers.
The Whiskey Straight is a dive bar, really, but the clientele like it that way. As long as Logan has that baseball bat handy under the bar and a handful of bikers acting as bouncers, there’s not usually much trouble.
Nova, however? The definition of trouble.
It’s weird being friends with someone you’re attracted to, but crossing that line would mean I’d get my face pummeled in by each of the Nomad Brothers in equal measures.
I work in security for the brothers. My primary job is hacking and finding all kinds of new and interesting ways to get information fast. Most of the time it isn’t legal, but there are ways to cover your tracks.
They give me free reign to do what needs to be done, and it works well. I even have my own office.
How I got into doing that is a long story.
Right now, I need to stop that damn phone ringing.
I roll closer to the edge of the bed, grab the phone off the nightstand, and then it stops ringing.
A few seconds later, it starts up again.
I swipe the green icon. “Very funny, Princess. I’m wide awake. It’s hilarious now but you’re gonna be payin’ for this in the mornin’.”
“Sawyer?” Nova sounds weird. Her voice is shaky and muffled, as if she’s been crying.
I sit bolt upright in bed. “Nova? What’s wrong?”
“I-I’m at this party, and things got outta hand, and—can you come get me?”
I’m already propping my phone between my shoulder and my ear as I pull my jeans on. “Where are you? Do not say in a back alley.”
Nova isn’t stupid, but she lands herself in some pretty tight predicaments at the drop of a hat. Keeping her out of trouble has become one of my main jobs as her bestie.
“I had to, a fight broke out at this bar, and then everyone started brawling, and to top it off… I think I saw him.”
“Saw who?” I’m tugging on my shirt and trying to pull on my boots at the same time.
“Him.”
Oh. Her ex.
Bobby.
“You think you did, or you did?”
“I’m sure I did, plus something felt off all night.”
“Where are your friends?”
Come to think of it, she has been hanging out with a couple of new girls lately, and clearly they are nowhere to be found if she’s calling me. Or maybe they’re in trouble too?
“They left.”
“Without you?” I balk.
“I know, Saw, I know, I’m an idiot.”
“Get yourself into a well lit area. What’s the address?”
She reels it off and I memorize it. “I-I’m scared. This isn’t my scene. The girls said they knew some guy, but they’d never met him.”
“Can you get out of the alleyway and out toward the road?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
I run a hand through my hair as I grab my keys. The bar is across town but at this time of night, nobody will be around so I can cut a few corners on my motorcycle. “I’m glad you called me,” I say. “Just sit tight.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll see you soon.”
I hang up, jog down the stairs, and into the garage which houses my most prized possession.
My turquoise and black Harley Davidson Road Glide, my pride and joy.
I tie my bandana around my head—it’s not for looks but more of a comfort thing—secure my goggles, and make sure I have Nova’s helmet in the saddlebag.
She rides with me now and again, not that the brothers know that.
They know we’ve grown close, but I swore I wouldn’t get involved with her in that way and I meant it.
I like my face as it is, and I like my balls hanging freely.
They’re all protective of her, and I can see why. She’s a firecracker if I’ve ever seen one, but good at heart. A real sweetheart.
This past year and a half since she moved to New Orleans, she’s slowly gained her confidence back after a really shitty breakup.
The guy had her hooked on drugs, used her for money, and treated her like complete garbage.
I’ve tried to track him down when the boys asked me to, but he’s a slippery little motherfucker.
I also know he has stalker tendencies, and he’s hit her before.
Nova may act like a tough little nut, but I know how sensitive she is about that jerk.
How she ever got roped in with him, I’ll never know.
The door rolls up and I ride out of the drive and out the security gate.
My neighborhood is close to the clubhouse in the industrial part of the city.
I like it because it’s quiet at night, and nobody bothers me.
My apartment was an abandoned shop that Cash, the club Prez, bought for the land sometime ago, but I offered to clean it up and keep watch on the clubhouse when I first joined.
Since then, I’ve put all my time and every penny into that place. It’s not fancy, but it’s clean, and it’s home. It feels like mine. I’ve never had anything that’s mine before.
As predicted, the streets are completely vacant, with only the odd car passing here and there.
At three in the morning, I wouldn’t expect anything less, and I curse Nova’s name when I run a red light.
She had better be okay by the time I get there.
I know Nova wants to fit in and pretend like she’s normal, but she’s not.
She’s special, and I don’t mean in a detrimental way.
For some reason, she’s always hard on herself and never gives herself any praise for turning her life around.
I’m constantly reminding her she needs to reiterate all the good things about what’s going right like a silent or even verbal mantra.
That’s what got me out of trouble many times.
My mind reels back and I’m lost for a second…
Smoke.
There’s so much smoke.
Escape. It’s my one chance to escape…
I need to get out.
I snap out of my daydream. No need to skip down memory lane and reminisce about those terrors, I’m wide awake. I’ll save that for bedtime when I can’t control what I dream about.
I don’t know the bar, but anything with ‘Shady’ in the title tends to be just that. The Shady Skull is just a fucking recipe for disaster. What was she thinking?
It isn’t like Nova to panic, or act like she’s scared, or cry, even. I’ve never seen her cry, but when it comes to that jackass, I have seen her panicked. He scares her, and I don’t like that there’s someone out there who scares my girl.
When I pull up outside the bar, there are cars and motorcycles parked out front, and the music is still blaring.
I reach into my saddlebag for my gun, securing it in the back of my jeans, and load a couple of knives into the holsters inside my boots.
Knives are my weapon of choice, and I’m a pretty accurate throw.
Let’s hope nobody wants to be stabbed tonight, but not only is my favorite person unsafe and terrified, I’m tired.
I need eight hours of beauty sleep or my eyes are puffy.
Fuck that shit. The boys like to poke fun because they call me a ‘pretty boy’ but they’re just jealous because I’m aging like fine wine.
Not my words, they’re Nova’s, and I’ll take any compliment that comes out of her mouth.
I kill the engine, kick the stand down, removing my goggles as I hang them on the handlebars.
I don’t see Nova.
I pull out my cell as I march toward the bar and call her. It rings out.
Where the fuck is she?
The alleyway she just called me from is right there, and there’s a bunch of dudes hanging outside. I don’t want this to get ugly, but if it has to, then so be it.
If she’s hiding down there, she won’t come out with them standing around shouting at one another.
“Hey, guys,” I say, trying to sound as friendly as possible as I approach. “You seen a small chick with blonde and pink hair about yay high.” I pull my hand up to below my shoulder. Nova is kinda short. “Answers to Nova, she was with a couple of other girls.”
I take two seconds to realize the three dudes are drunk, but hopefully they’re happy drunks and this won’t end badly. Two are average, the third is fat fucker, but one punch to the guts and I could take him easily.
“If we did, we’d sure as fuck show her a good time,” Idiot number one says. Helpful.
I feel my phone vibrate. Glancing at it, I’m relieved to see it’s her.
Nova
I’m here, two doors down, behind a dumpster by the kitchen
This place serves food? Jesus. H. Christ.
I take off back the way I came.
“Hey, where are you goin’?” One of them tries to grab me but I shrug him off. I don’t have time to brawl.
“Fuck off,” I say, jogging back the way I came until I get to the other side of the building.
I see the dumpster, and a door that must lead to the kitchen. As I approach, I see Nova crouched behind it, clutching her phone to her chest.
“Baby girl?” I say as she jumps in fright. My eyes widen at her state: messy hair, her mascara has run, her eyes are wide and frightened. “Holy fuck.”
“Sawyer!” She jumps into my arms with a sigh of relief. “I’m so sorry I got you up in the middle of the night. I didn’t wanna call Brew or Haze, and fuck Logan, who thinks he can still ground me—”
“Let’s just get out of here before anyone inside comes out,” I say.
I glance down at her attire, choosing to keep the you wore that?
comment to myself. It’s not that I don’t approve, but she’s cold and shaking in a short skirt and a strapless tube top.
I shrug off my cut and throw it over her shoulders.
“Thank you.”
“Next time bring a damn sweater.”
“Jessa and Em were meant to give me a ride, they have my jacket” Nova explains as I take her hand and pull her along. “A fight broke out, and they just left me! Some of the guys left, but others went back inside.”
We round the corner and the three drunks are hanging around near my motorcycle.
Fucking great.
“Here he is,” Idiot number two says, swaying as he waves a beer bottle at me. “Ooh, she’s pretty. Nice tits, babe.”
I don’t want to smash my hand punching him in the nose, so I do what any self-respecting, sober man would do in this situation: I slap him like a little bitch.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I can fight any which way the wind blows. Fair or dirty, but there’s something about a slap that is humiliating as it is funny. The sound ricochets off his chubby cheeks and I hear Nova gasp behind me.
“That’s no way to talk to a lady,” I grit, knocking his beer out of his hand. “Now fuck off before this gets really ugly.” Out of the corner of my mouth, I tell Nova to pull her helmet on and get on the bike.
“Fuckin’ asshole!” Idiot number two takes a swing, but I see it coming. I punch him once, twice, until he doubles back and Idiot number one charges at me like a bull. I dodge him, then elbow him in the throat, he drops to his knees, sputtering.
I reach into my boot and retrieve one of my knives, then wield it around as idiot number three turns and runs.
I turn to check on Nova and she’s staring at me with wide eyes. “Holy shit, Saw, that was insane.”
“Nobody talks to you like that, Princess. I don’t care if they’re drunk or not.”
Idiot number three runs to the doors and opens it, yells something I can’t decipher, and a few moments later, people start pouring out the door, looking for the cause of the trouble.
“Shit.” I leg it over my motorcycle, insert and turn the key as I scramble to start the beast. I maneuver from the curb and speed away just as the mob throws beer cans and bottles at us. “Hold on.”
She does as she’s told, for once, wrapping her arms around me as we speed off into the night. “Holy crap, babe, that was close.” She buries her head into my shoulder and a warmth spreads through me.
It’s wrong to feel this way and not say something. I mean, in the beginning all we did was flirt incessantly, but I knew even then I couldn’t give a woman like her what she needs. I shouldn’t have led her on, not that she saw it that way because we quickly became friends and hung out. Nothing more.
I’m not good for her.
I’m not good for anyone.
I’m broken.
Sometimes I don’t know if I can ever be fixed. A part of me hopes so, because a long time ago, I used to feel like I could do anything.
Then the unthinkable happened.
My life was abruptly taken, and that ended my childhood at fifteen.
I left everything behind. My family. Friends. My life. But I had no choice. I found myself in a cat-and-mouse game, unaware that I was the mouse.
I don’t even ask. I just drive back to my apartment.
It’s the only place I know I can keep her safe, and I won’t let anything happen to her. Over my dead body.
Maybe I have taken it upon myself to be extra protective of her, but that’s my nature. Hell, for years it was my job.
I push the anger and pain down, way down. Nobody’s got time for that shit tonight, including me. But this isn’t about me, it’s about Nova and why she’s so upset.
I get bars can be scary places, and if she thought she saw Bobby, that could’ve triggered her.
For some reason I’m the only one who can reach her when she gets like this. Nova knows she can rely on me to be there. I know from past trauma myself where a person goes when they need to feel safe, and that’s inwards.
I pat her hands as we ride. “It’s gonna be okay,” I murmur, knowing she can’t hear me. “I’ll never let anythin’ bad happen to you.”
If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that. I keep my promises.
And maybe that’s all I need to know.