20. Ask for Terrance
Chapter 20
Ask for Terrance
Mensa
The conflicted look on her face before she climbed onto the back of his bike wasn’t one he’d forget any time soon.
Many of the brothers had been forced to acclimate their women into the MC life.
Only one of them had to deal with such a law-abiding woman.
He’d thought Gamble was out of his mind taking on Victoria as his ol’ lady. Now he could see where it was out of Gamble’s control.
Whitney had to understand what she was getting into, though. It didn’t matter if the Riot MC brothers knew she had rights, other clubs wouldn’t care unless she was claimed.
Mensa sped back to Hard Pressed. Knowing Rod was out and about, they had to be more vigilant.
By the time Mensa swung off his bike, Whitney had his helmet held out to him like an offering.
Also like it would be the last time she used it.
He took the helmet from her.
She smiled. “I’m buying my own helmet. You’re breaking the law by not wearing one. Riley told me to let you handle it, but I’m capable of—”
“Have at it, woman.”
Her blue eyes flared. “Have at… are you sure?”
He nodded. “Yeah, but hit the shop near the Interstate. Ask for Terrance. He’ll set you up.”
She arched a brow. “Should I tell him you sent me?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “You can, but I’m gonna tell him to expect you.”
“Why would you do that?”
“He’ll help you get what you need.”
“You’re being enigmatic.”
“There’s no mystery in those words.”
She chuckled. “Sure there isn’t.”
He shook his head. “The timing sucks, but seems you’re gonna learn in a trial by fire.”
“Pardon me?”
“I called you my woman, and it threw us both. Thing is I meant it, and still do. Between that and Rod, you’re finding out exactly what being mine will mean.”
“And Terrance fits into this how?”
He smiled. “Terrance will help you with more than a helmet.”
“I got that, Genius.”
“Then I’m not being mysterious.”
She growled before she spoke. “Fine. I got work to do, but thanks for the ride.”
He fought off his laughter, then arched his brows. “You’re always welcome, but you’re forgetting something.”
She leaned up and pecked his lips.
He dipped his chin. “Are you fucking with me?”
She chuckled. “No, but I’m not making ou—”
He pulled her to him and laid a heavy kiss on her. Then he cut it off just as fast.
“That’s more like it,” he muttered.
She sighed. “And now I gotta face Aunt Nadia.”
“She’ll be happy for you.”
Her lips twisted with skepticism. “Yeah, if I kept that private.”
“There’s more to Nadia than what meets the eye.”
Her eyes widened. “There you go again! What’s that supposed to mean?”
Mensa ran a hand through his hair. “Normally, I keep my mouth shut about this type of thing, but she never married, right?”
Whitney’s expression hardened. “Yes, but that doesn’t—”
He grabbed her hand. “She had it bad for Brink – our last president.”
“What?” she asked, her voice full of dismay. “That’s… that’s something she’d have—”
“Kept private?”
“Well… yeah. But Mensa, what would have kept them apart?”
“The daughter he had, possibly. His inability to stay faithful, definitely. Though to be fair, I don’t know Nadia well enough to say. It’s just that most women frown on cheating.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Yeah. Most of us definitely do. Are you able to be faithful?”
He shot her a pointed look. “Why do you think I hadn’t been laid since February? You in that fucking blue dress at Finn and Riley’s wedding. Shit, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
She pressed her lips together to hide her smile.
He glanced to the side and back to her. “So noted, you enjoy my pain.”
She shook her head. “Not at all. I’m just flattered.”
He pulled her closer. “Good. Kiss me again. Nadia isn’t going to have an issue with it. She knows how bikers are – more than you know.”
“I guess you’re right.”
She kissed him, he took it deeper, then she pulled back.
“Do I have to keep this to myself?”
Mensa wobbled his head. “That’s up to you. Nobody told me I had to keep it quiet.”
Her head bobbed in three short nods as though she were deliberating it. “I’ll be done here around five-thirty.”
“Yeah. A prospect will be here if I’m not.”
She didn’t quite roll her eyes at him. “Mensa—”
“Rod’s out there and even if he snuck off at the mall, he didn’t get my message. You’re gonna be covered, Blume. I don’t care about your FBI training.”
She pouted, but it was half-hearted. “Fine. You’re wasting that poor prospect’s time, though.”
“It’s my job to waste a prospect’s time, baby.”
“Am I dragging this prospect to see Terrance?”
He grinned. “Maybe. We’ll see. When you’re done with Terrance, let me know if you want to be at the clubhouse or your apartment.”
“I can tell you that now: my place.”
“Got it.”
“What are you going to be doing?”
“Inventory at the bar.”
She turned her head an inch. “Does that mean something else?”
He laughed. “No, Blume. Inventory is inventory and it’s boring as hell.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Okay. Please, don’t go looking for Rod. Nothing good will come of it.”
Mensa shut his saddlebag and heard another bike pull into the lot for Twisted Talons. The rider parked beside him and powered off his Harley.
Mensa’s guard went up instantly when he recognized Whitney’s brother. “Aren’t you supposed to be—”
“I’m not here,” Wyatt said, shoving his shades up on his head.
“Our cameras will dispute that, but sure. What do you want?”
“I want to know what you’re doing with Whitney.”
Anger welled up inside him, but Mensa kept his face stoic. “We’re not doing this.”
Wyatt cocked his head – almost the exact same way Whitney did. “Are you gonna fuck her over and toss her aside?”
Mensa glared at Wyatt. “ That’s why we’re not doing this. If you weren’t her brother, I’d have clocked you.”
“And you’d be under arrest.”
“I don’t give a shit about that. I care about you insulting me and your sister.”
Wyatt’s eyes narrowed. “You’re serious about her? After what? A week?”
Mensa scoffed. “More like fifteen months, since that’s how long she’s been a thorn in my side.”
Wyatt gave him a hard-eyed stare.
Mensa withstood it for a minute before he said, “Your sister is the first one to tell anybody that she’s her own person and she makes her own decisions.”
“Yeah, but this is the most fucked-up one yet.”
“Did you tell her that?”
Wyatt kept silent.
Mensa chuckled. “Yeah. Leave it at this, I’m not gonna hurt her.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“Nothing I can do about that, but you should trust Whitney.”
He shook his head. “I don’t understand what she sees in you.”
Mensa had wondered that on occasion himself. “You’d have to ask her. By the way, I’m not keeping this visit from her.”
Wyatt’s lips quirked. “I didn’t ask you to,” he stared at Mensa for a beat. “Don’t fuck her over. She may not believe she deserves better than you, but she deserves better than being fucked over by you.”
“Agreed. Is that all, Wyatt?”
He powered up the Harley and left.