Chapter 4
NICOLETTA
The ride on Bolt’s Harley was as good as I remembered from the first night, only way too short. The exhilaration of flying down the street with the wind in my face couldn’t be explained.
We dismount, enter the gym, and the sound of heavy metal music surrounds us. Bolt guides me to the back end of the gym, then stops by a woman spotting another woman doing chest presses. The amount of weight she’s pressing is astonishing for her size, but she lifts the weights with ease.
“Hey, Bolt.” The woman doing the spotting smiles and nods in my direction. “A new recruit?”
“Something like that.”
Actually, nothing like that, but I keep my thoughts to myself.
“Maxie, this is Nicoletta.” Bolt motions between us.
Maxie’s dark eyes appraise me, not unlike walking into Riviera Beach for a gala event.
“Just show her around. She’s gonna be with us for a few days.” Bolt kept his explanation short and brief, and Maxie didn’t ask any questions.
I also noticed that since we entered the gym, Bolt has kept a fair amount of distance from me. Way different than when we were in his apartment eating, and every few minutes, he found a reason to touch me in some way.
Bolt made it clear last night that, according to Smoke, Bolt’s job is keeping an eye on me at all times. Which doesn’t include the numerous times we had sex or the outstanding number of orgasms he gave me.
I let my gaze shift to the other side of the gym, where a glass wall encases what looks like an office. Inside this office stands Blood and one of the other men at the table last night, Diesel. Their eyes are pinned on Bolt and me. I’m sure not much gets past these men.
BOLT
After leaving Nicoletta in Maxie’s capable hands, I head for the office on the other side of the gym. Blood and Diesel track me through the glass, so I’m fully prepared for their shit talk when I enter.
Diesel’s lips twist into a smirk. “I see you’re being a good guardian.”
“Save it.” I knock out a cigarette from the pack on his desk and light up.
“Ohhhhh, somebody ain’t happy,” Blood adds. “What’s a matter, you got your balls in a twist ‘cause Prez said you gotta keep your hands off her?”
“Looks to me more like he’s got blue balls.” Diesel continues, “Probably didn’t sleep very good either knowing that sexy ass was in the next room, and he couldn’t stick his dick in her.”
They both have a good laugh at my expense, when I’m the one who gets the last laugh. If they only knew all the ways me and Nicoletta got into it last night, they’d have to take a cold shower.
I take a few more deep drags, then point the cig at Diesel. “You ready to train me, or you got more bullshit you wanna throw at me?”
“Testy, testy.” Diesel throws a look at Blood. “Better make sure Gina lets him get his dick wet tonight. Take the edge off.”
“I don’t need Gina. All I need is a good workout so I’m ready for the fights on Saturday.”
Diesel cuffs my shoulder. “Okay, but I got one more question. Are you bringing your Beverly Hills princess to fight night, ‘cause I’m not too sure she could handle it.”
“You got nothing better to do than gossip like a little girl?” I evade Diesel’s fist as we leave Blood’s office and head to the sparring ring.
Diesel’s words stay in my head. Fight nights are crazy and out of control. We keep security as tight as possible, but it would be the perfect opportunity for someone to get to her. I make a mental note to take it up with Smoke before Saturday.
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. After my workout with Diesel, I trained the two prospects, but no matter how involved I got, my eyes tracked Nicoletta.
The easy, graceful way she moved, who she talked to. She seemed to be getting on with Maxie and Martina, but that didn’t surprise me. For all her privilege and money, a realness shown through. Like her telling me she worked with abused women. That hit me deep and let me see her in another light.
NICOLETTA
A few hours later, along with Maxie, I met Martina, who’s with Diesel, then later in the day, I met Marisol, who’s with Smoke. Imagining these women, who are both physically and mentally strong, with such alpha men makes me wonder how their relationships work.
“I guess you could say our men know how far they can push us.” Marisol uncaps the bottle of water from the top of Maxie’s desk, then leans against it. “And we know how far we can push them.”
“It’s all about respecting boundaries,” Maxie adds. “When I got with Blood, he was pig-headed, stubborn, and a great pain in the ass.”
“And now?” I ask.
“He’s still pig-headed, stubborn, and a great pain in the ass, but he knows how and when to bend.” Maxie laughs around her words. “Although sometimes I do have to remind him.”
“Right.” Martina shoulder-butts Maxie. “Like last Friday night when he thought the prospect was getting a little too close to you at the bar?”
“Exactly.” Maxie smiles. “It might’ve taken a minute, but I got his jealous ass calmed down, and also saved the prospect from getting a mouthful of Blood’s fist.”
I shake my head. “I give you women a lot of credit. I wouldn’t know the first thing about taming men like this. My expertise runs to the pretty boys at the Riviera Country Club.”
The three women exchange a look, and I cover my words with, “Believe me, I’m not bragging, just stating a fact, ‘cause some of those rich boys can be—”
“Way the fuck worse than any outlaw biker,” Marisol finishes my sentence.
“Right.” I cock my head and wait.
“Now you’re wondering how I know that, huh?”
“Kinda, yeah.” I inch forward on the wooden chair in Maxie’s office.
Martina pipes up, “Marisol is our token rich girl.”
“Yup.” Maxie spreads her arms wide. “She’s the one who brings class to this dump.
” Then she looks at Martina. “I’ll never forget when you showed up here on the run from the cartel with only the clothes on your back, and Marisol insisted you wear one of her designer dresses to the Friday night party. ”
“You guys were the best.” Martina’s face sobers. “You took me in with no questions asked.”
Silence fills the room, and I’m thinking every one of these women has her own story.
Marisol breaks the silence. “Has Bolt told you anything about us?”
“Just that you’re part of the Royal Harlots and that you are involved in a women’s fight club.”
“That’s the basics,” Marisol continues, then motions to the other women. “So far, there’s six of us in the Harlots, and part of the money we make fighting, we pool, and each month we give a portion of it to a family or families in need.”
“That’s amazing.” These women just keep surprising me.
“There’s a lot of poverty in and around Tijuana.” Maxie sighs. “Much worse than any poverty you’ve ever seen in the States.”
“I saw firsthand how the cartel pressures poor families into selling their children to them as couriers,” Maxie adds. “They support the family, and the child works for them for free. Slave labor with a twist.”
I draw in a breath. “Is that what happened to you?”
“No, I was drugged and abducted from a club in L.A., then sold to the cartel. It took me almost a year to get away from them, but Blood made sure none of them will ever bother me again.”
Maxie’s words are hard and definite, and her underlying meaning isn’t lost on me.
“I lived a normal life in Oceanside,” Martina begins. “Before my brother thought it was a good idea to use me as leverage to pay off his drug debts.”
“What?” I whisper, then remember my father wanted to hold me captive in my own home and sent gunmen to scare me.
Marisol takes a long pull of water. “I’m the daughter of a now-dead cartel kingpin.
My father sent me to The Tropics when Smoke and Blood first opened it up to spy on them.
Bottom line, I fell hard for Smoke. My father used me as a bargaining chip, and my brother Manny, who’s the secretary for the Bastards, made sure he never did that again. ”
“This is why we do what we can to help local women,” Martina says.
I let their stories sink in. “You’re not going to believe this, but back in Los Angeles, I worked at a women’s shelter downtown.”
“You did?” Maxie asks, and the other two women shoot her a look.
“In case you haven’t realized it,” Marisol says, “Maxie is the outspoken one of the group.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Maxie defends. “Diesel told me you came from a real rich family in Beverly Hills, so I figured . . .”
“Yes, and they abhor the fact that I’m using my degree from Stanford to basically work for free.”
“I think that’s amazing.”
“What’s amazing?” Bolt’s gruff voice fills the small room.
Maxie waves her hand at him. “Who invited you? This is women only.”
Bolt twists his lips. “How the fuck does Blood live with your wise ass?”
The women laugh, and Maxie grins. “‘Cause I know all his secrets, both in and out of bed.”
“Geez, fuck, that’s it.” Bolt shoots Maxie a death glare, which has no effect, then looks at me. “Let’s get out of here before they start saying shit I really don’t wanna hear.”
I push out of the chair, and the other women are still laughing. “Stick around, Bolt,” Maxie teases, “and I’ll tell you how good your VP is in bed.”
I follow a grumbling Bolt out of the office and then out of the gym. When we get to his bike, he stops.
“I take it you had a good time?” he asks.
“I did. They really are great. Seems they do their part for charity here in Tijuana, similar to what I do up in L.A.”
“The Bastards kick in on that too.”
“Nice.”
He swings his leg over the bike, then holds out his hand to me. I settle in behind him, and he turns, looks around, then grabs the back of my head and drags me in for a tongue-filled kiss.
When he breaks away, he smiles. “I’ve been wanting to do that the whole fuckin’ day.”
“You were busy all day. So, I really don’t think you were thinking about me.”
“Yeah, busy keeping eyes on you.” Bolt shakes his head.
“According to Smoke, that’s your job, right?” I barely contain my smirk.
“I don’t know what the fuck you do to me, but . . . you wanna go for a ride?”
“Sure.”
“Then hang on, ‘cause you’re gonna love this.”