8.
Dahlia
“L isten,” JD said after the man in the suit left the room, “there’s still heat on the club. Rocky’s death has left behind trouble, and until that trouble is eliminated, you’ll have protection.”
I shook my head. “No. I want you gone—all of you. I don’t want any of you in my life ever again.”
The men around the table muttered between themselves and glared, but JD, for what it was worth, never said a thing. He listened patiently, his expression neutral, until I was finished.
“I get that, Dahlia, but the thing is, even I don’t have a say in this. It’s the code of the Kings. We protect our family, and whether you like it or not—”
“Not…”
He cracked a wonky smile. “Fair enough, but you’re family and we have to protect you, whether you want us to or not.”
“He’d haunt the shit out of us if we didn’t,” a man to the right of me said. He was staring at the table like he was inspecting it for wood rot, his gaze so intense at nothing that I couldn’t help but frown.
A couple of the men laughed, JD included. “That is indeed true. Rocky would haunt the shit out of us if anything happened to you. So you’ll be getting protection until this is over, and once it’s done you can walk away. But know that we’ll always be here for you, if you ever need us.”
“I won’t ever need any of you. Can I go now?”
“Give me a couple more minutes of your time and I’ll even let you drive home yourself, darlin’.”
I sat back in my chair, my arms folded across my chest. From somewhere, a coffee was slid in front of me, and despite not wanting anything from any of these men, I did want coffee. No, I needed coffee. I picked it up and took a sip, expecting it to be too sweet or not sweet enough, but sure enough it was just right.
JD pulled out his cigarettes and lit one. He turned to the man next to him. “Bring him in.”
The man stood and left, returning a minute or so afterwards with another, bigger man in his wake. I barely acknowledged him, confused and annoyed that I was here for any of this. I wished they would either kill me or let me go home.
And then I heard his voice.
“JD, I just need to say something, if that’s okay,” the man said, and my head snapped in his direction.
I took him in, my gaze moving over his familiar face. His dark, tousled hair and full lips, his squared jaw and sad eyes. Matt Henry stood as tall and proud as he had twenty years ago. The years had been hard on him, as they had to me, but I could still see the boy he had been at eighteen. Only now he was bigger, more muscular. He wore a leather cut, just like Alex had, and I could see the edges of a tattoo at his collar. He moved with familiarity, and despite having not seen him for twenty years, I knew that it was definitely him. This was Matt, my Matt, the first and only man to ever break my heart.
He had left me twenty years ago, promising he would be back after the weekend, but he had never returned. I had thought him dead until I’d received a brief note and an even briefer goodbye. There was no explanation. No way to salvage anything.
Matt Henry up and left, blowing our lives apart, and I never knew why.
Now, though, I saw it had been because of this club. This stupid club that had taken one man from me and had now killed another. It was just another reason for my hatred of the Kings to deepen.
“Go on,” JD replied, patiently.
“I’ve been a fucking asshole—”
“You can say that again,” someone mumbled.
“—but I’m a King. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. All I’ve ever really known. You’re my family and I know I need to make it up to you all, and I will. I can’t say that I’m not going to stumble again—the shit that’s happened these past couple of months has messed with my head, and I know I need help, but I love this club.” He cracked his knuckles while he waited for JD to say something. It was a nervous habit I remembered well.
He looked so much like the man from years ago, but he had grown into something bigger and stronger. His face now sported a short, dark beard, and his shoulders were broader, but his eyes…his eyes were the same as they used to be. His features chiseled and handsome, his hands larger than I remembered, his hair still unruly. This was Matt—my Matt. I felt sick as I stared at him, a mixture of anger and grief and awe at seeing him again. Confusion burrowing deeper. How was he even here?
JD stood up and went to Matt. He looked him dead in the eye and then he pulled him to him, slapping his back with his hand.
“This club is your family, and we will always have your back, but what happened…that ain’t all right, and you have some work to put in. You could have stopped your brother from dyin’, Bear, and you will have to live with that,” JD said.
“Or he could have been killed too,” one of the other bikers added with a shrug. “Plan was in place to take them both down, Prez. Ain’t no way to say which way it would have gone.”
JD nodded in agreement. “I hear you, and I agree. Blood is blood, and we protect our own, at all costs. You broke a fundamental rule of this life, but I don’t think your head is with it. It hasn’t been since the shit with your brother, Sebastion.”
He released Matt and looked across at the table of men, some of them were clearly not happy about the situation. They glanced around the table at each other uneasily. Anger in their eyes, their hands curled into fists.
“Any of you motherfuckers got shit to say to him, you go right ahead and get it out of your system in this room, right here, right now. But after that, it ends. We never leave a man behind, you feel me?” JD continued.
“What, like he left Rocky behind?” the older man said. “Bear was supposed to be with him. It was a two man job but this fucker was out on a bender.”
“Ink, don’t push your luck with me. I’ve heard enough. Bear needs his family around him. He needs us. He needs—”
“You tell that to his wife.” Ink slammed his hand down on the table and all eyes fell to me.
Bear’s gaze moved slowly, almost agonizingly so, until finally, mercifully, his brown eyes found mine. I watched as slow recognition crawled up his face, and then I watched the horror unfold behind his eyes.
“Dahlia?” he said, my name so quiet that I could have imagined it. “She’s Rocky’s wife?”
“His widow now,” Ink snapped. “Anythin’ you want to say to her? Not sure an apology is gonna cut it, but maybe you’d let her put a bullet in your brain for the damage you’ve caused.”
Ink was standing up now, his face filled with furious indignation.
“Ink,” JD warned again, though he made no move to intervene.
Ink shook his head, his eyes still burning into Matt. “Bitch came in here last night with a gun and a promise to end your prez, and all because you fucked up. Because you weren’t on the road with Rocky. It was a two-man job, and you fucked up because you were too drunk to give a damn.” He stormed around the table, barging past Matt.
“Ink, please,” Matt called after him, finally tearing his gaze from mine. He reached for the older man, his hand landing on his shoulder.
Ink turned and grabbed Matt’s hand, twisting it backwards. Matt called out in pain, but Ink wasn’t done. Still holding on to his hand, he wrenched Mat’s arm backwards until Matt had to bend over, and then Ink lifted his knee and slammed it into Matt’s gut.
Chairs screeched back from their positions at the table and a chorus of voices rose around me as everyone began yelling at one another.
Matt called out, pain etched on his twisted features. He tore his hand out of Ink’s grip and stood back up. His face was pale, his eyes glazed, and his lips pulled back into an angry snarl.
“Ink, brother, I don’t wanna fight you.”
Ink laughed. “You think ‘cause you got twenty years on me this is gonna be a fight? This ain’t a fight, this is a massacre.” And then he reared back and took a swing at Matt, hitting him square in the jaw.
For the second time, Matt creased over roaring in pain, and for the second time Ink kneed him in the stomach, this time holding him in place so that he couldn’t get away from the brutal punishment being inflicted upon him. Ink kneed him once more and then released him, shoving him to one side.
“Stay the fuck down,” Ink snarled, his expression darkening when Matt shook his head.
Matt straightened, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes locked onto Ink with a mixture of fury and desperation. He lunged forward, his fist aiming straight for Ink's jaw. Ink was ready; he dodged with a swift movement and countered with a punch to Matt's ribs. The sound of the impact echoed through the room, and Matt staggered back, clutching his side.
Determined not to be beaten, Matt retaliated with a burst of energy, driving into Ink with a barrage of blows. Ink absorbed the hits, his expression unwavering, as he waited for the right moment. Then, with a sudden burst of strength, he grabbed Matt by the shoulders and threw him against the wall. The force of the collision reverberated through the room, and Matt let out a guttural groan.
The whole time, JD stood there watching, waiting, the other men looking to him for what to do. They were all ready to pounce, bloodthirsty gazes locked on the two men. This was what I hated about the club: the violence. The sheer anger in one room, directed at anyone and everyone. There was nothing good about club life.
Matt and Ink continued to fight it out for another minute before JD finally looked over at the bald biker and gave a nod, and then the other men in the room were stepping between Ink and Matt and pulling them apart.
The two men stood there panting and bloody, though it was obvious that Matt had been the one to come out worse. His jaw was already shadowed with a growing bruise and blood was splattered down the front of his white T-shirt. He glanced in my direction, shame crossing his features, though I wasn’t sure if it was because he just lost a stupid fight for which I didn’t care, or because he was still ashamed that twenty years ago he had told me he loved me and then left me in New York City.
“You done?” JD said, a taunting lilt in his voice.
“Yeah,” Ink replied. He spat a mouthful of blood on the floor and held out a hand to Matt. “You got a lot to prove before I’ll be calling you my brother though.”
“I hear that,” Matt replied. He took Ink’s hand and shook it firmly and then let go. He turned to look at the other men in the room. His eyes were soft and filled with sadness. They reminded me of Alex’s. “I’ll make it up to you all.”
“I know that you’ve been dealing with a lot, but that ends as of now. There ain’t no more chances after this, brother. Can’t bring back the dead,” JD said, and all eyes fell on him. “But if it’s any consolation, I don’t blame you for Rocky’s death, I blame those Jap crap-lovin’ motherfuckers for that, and there’s already a plan in the works to deal with them.”
The other men slammed their fists against the table, making me jump. It was like everyone had forgotten I was there. I felt witness to things I shouldn’t and didn’t want to know, and I knew that I needed to go.
I took a step back from the table, intending to leave without causing a scene, but the biker with the long, slicked-back hair was directly behind me, and as I stepped back, he put his hands on my shoulders and stopped me.
His eyes were the type that looked permanently half closed, gray irises staring down at me. “Prez? What are we doing with the wife?” he said, the hint of an accent unclear beneath his droll.
“Let go of her, Smoke,” JD said, and the biker released me.
I stepped away from him, not sure where I was going, but wanting to get out of there all the same. I’d had enough of the leather, smoke, and whiskey scent for a lifetime, the testosterone hanging heavy in the air like you could cut it with a knife.
“Bear, meet Dahlia, Dahlia meet Bear. He’s going to be your protector until this mess is sorted out. He’ll shadow you wherever you go and whatever you do—” he began.
Matt—Bear turned to look at me once again, I saw the horror in his eyes that I was back in his life. That I was here, and that maybe, just maybe, he might finally have to explain himself once and for all.
I opened my mouth to speak but JD plowed on, and I had a feeling he was done listening to anything I had to say. “The money is being transferred in the next forty-eight hours and Rocky’s house is already in your name, and the mortgage is paid off, so you don’t have to worry about losing your home. His stocks and shares and shit will take a little longer, but there’s not a whole lot I can do about that. We know the right people in the right places, and they’ll work as fast as they can.”
I swallowed, not sure what to say to him. I didn’t want the money, or the house, and yet I knew I needed it. I couldn’t survive on nothing. I didn’t even have a job.
And then there was the other issue. The bigger one.
I looked across at the man they called Bear but who I knew as Matt. At one time he had been the love of my life. But then he had broken my heart and left me to pick up the pieces with no clue as to why he had left. I had come home after finishing college, and I had met Alex. And then I had married him and we had started a life together.
Alex was the love of my life. He was the one that I had imagined having children with. Growing old with. Vacationing with. I had walked down the aisle to him and promised him my love was forever.
And yet, before Alex, there had been Matt.
If Alex was the love of my life, then Matt had been my soulmate.
Emotions swirled around inside me to the point that I felt dizzy and sick with them. The last thing I wanted to do was spend any sort of time with Matt. He had broken my heart and left me. Yet, to find out he had been here all along. That he had been friends with my husband Rocky... How was it possible that he didn’t know it was me all along? They had been on rides together. They had eaten together. Hell, Alex had probably talked about me to Matt at some point. It was crazy to think that my life had been so intrinsically linked to the two great loves of my life all along and none of us even knew it.
And yet, when I saw the look on Matt’s face, there was no denying that he had no clue I had been here all along.
Was it kismet?
Or was it just the universe’s way of telling me that everything happened for a reason? Even if the reason was a horrible, violent thing.
Perhaps the universe was trying to tell me that every great love story had to have an ending, whether good or bad, because if it didn’t, we were just living in the ellipses.