Chapter Nine
Riley
Next morning she woke with Dan’s arms wound around her, holding her close against his side. By his stillness she knew he was awake.
“Hey,” she said, her voice croaking. “How’d you sleep?”
“Like a baby,” he said, pressing a soft kiss against her temple, turning the question back on him “How’d you sleep?”
“Like a just-right koala was wrapped around me.” She laughed softly as she turned to face him. “Did you even sleep? Or were you up all night on guard?”
“I got some sleep. I also got up and went and had a couple of beers with my brothers. That helped get my head back on straight. Made me lots less murderous.”
“You were murderous? All of that happened a long time ago, Raggedy Dan. I’d say I’m beyond it, but you got an up-close-and-personal view of how much unbeyond it I am. Still, given the way that club operated? I’d bet most of the men are dead.”
“So you’re saying maybe they aren’t all dead?” He closed one eye, squinting at her. “Murdery again.”
“Am I yours, Raggedy Dan?”
He pulled back, staring down at her. “You are.”
“Then that means you’re mine, and I would rather you avoid the murdery because of the incarcerationy.” She cleared her throat and angled her chin up, staring at him as she lowered the timbre of her voice, “You feel me, Raggedy Dan?”
“I do.”
“Ready to get some breakfast, old man?”
His grin was wide and rewarding. “I’m willing if you are, ole lady.”
They readied themselves and used the bathroom on the way downstairs.
When they strolled into the main room of the clubhouse, that was when things went freaky.
Riley first noticed it when Dan wasn’t allowed to make his way to the self-serve line for breakfast. Mad Dawg guided them to a table instead.
Riley sat next to Dan and watched as first confusion and then understanding dawned on his face.
A prospect brought them two plates piled high with bacon and eggs, then set a third plate on the table with a tall stack of pancakes. A member Riley hadn’t yet met carried a bottle of syrup over and thudded it on the table between them, slapping Dan’s shoulder with his other hand.
Before she’d eaten the first bite, another member dropped off fresh cups of coffee. The end of things was when Tinder, the president of the whole shebang, brought over a jug of juice.
“Dan, what’s going on?” She leaned close and whispered in his ear. “The president shouldn’t be serving us.”
“The president does what he fuckin’ wants,” Tinder said loudly, causing Riley to pull back. “Dan, wanna bring your lady in on the low-down?”
“Penitence. Triggering you might have been unintentionally done, but this will even the scales again.” Dan nodded once. “Thanks, brother.”
Brothers filed out, slapping Dan’s shoulder as they passed with hard thumps, which were their silent congratulations. Mad Dawg lingered at the door, grinning wide.
“Ella’s already planning a girls’ night for you, Riley,” he warned. “Brace yourself.”
Dan groaned. “She’s probably gonna teach Riley yoga breathing for ‘when your old man is being an overprotective caveman.’”
Riley laughed softly. “I’m gonna love learning that.”
“I’m so fucked,” Dan said with a smile, hidden behind a bandana but still there.
“Pretty much.” Dawg clapped him on the back. “Welcome to the yoga club, brother. Officially.”
***
Dan
Dan stepped through the archway into the common room, still feeling the echo of those words in his chest. She’s mine.
Riley pulled free of his hold and made her way to the corner table where Ella and two other old ladies, Nora and Maria, were sipping coffee and laughing over something on Ella’s phone.
He noticed that Riley’d borrowed his flannel shirt again.
The sleeves were rolled to her elbows, the tails hitting mid-thigh over bare legs that went on forever. His mouth went dry.
Ella spotted him first. “We’re stealing her for lunch. You can have her back at six.”
Riley lifted a brow at him, eyes sparkling with mischief. “That acceptable, caveman?”
Dan exhaled through his nose, fighting a smile. “Six-thirty. And you text me when you get there. Every time you land somewhere, hear me?”
Riley saluted with her coffee mug. “Yes, sir.”
The women dissolved into laughter that was bright and easy, the kind that filled the room like sunlight. Dan decided retreating was the better part of valor. He gave Riley one long look, letting her see the heat barely banked from last night, then turned and walked towards the garage.
Behind him, Ella stage-whispered, “Girl, you just made Dan blush. That’s a Christmas miracle.”
Riley’s laugh followed him out the door.
***
Riley
Riley watched Dan disappear into the back rooms, broad shoulders rolling under his cut, and felt something warm and dangerous settle in her chest. She’d heard the word “old lady” thrown around in passing over the years, always with a mix of awe from citizens and eyerolls from the women who wore the title.
She’d never understood it. Had never wanted to.
Until now.
She turned back to the table. Ella was grinning like she’d won the lottery.
“You heard, right?” Ella asked, eyes bright. “Dawg said he just said it. Out loud. In church.”
Riley took a slow sip of coffee to hide her smile. “He did.”
Nora leaned in. “Never seen Dan claim anyone. Ever. That man’s been a ghost since the beginning. Didn’t think he’d ever let someone close enough to touch the scars, let alone call her his.”
Maria nodded. “He’s serious. You’re in deep now, honey.”
Riley shrugged, but her pulse was hammering. “Guess we’ll see.”
Ella reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’re good for him. And he’s good for you. I can tell.”
Riley didn’t argue. She didn’t need to.
Because deep down, she already knew.
She was his old lady.
And for the first time in her life, thinking of belonging with someone didn’t feel like a cage.
It was a lot more like coming home.
***
Dan
“Brother.” He greeted Tinder with a warrior’s clasp, pulling him in for a one-armed clinch. Tinder pounded on Dan’s back, and Dan returned the gesture. “You didn’t need to.”
“Yes, I did. Every member is responsible for their own actions and words within the club. Being president doesn’t strip me of that responsibility.
Once I mentioned what I wanted to do, every man who was in that room offered their assistance.
That’s the level of love and respect we have for you, brother.
” Tinder pounded on his back again. “One-time deal, though. Because I don’t plan on making that kind of misstep again. ”
Mad Dawg walked up, two coffee mugs in his hands. He gave one to Dan, who nodded his thanks. “Ella’s got a full day planned for the ladies. I’m glad Riley already knew Ella. That will make her acceptance happen even faster.”
“Say, man,” Rocker spoke up from the side. “When are you getting your tattoo?”
“Soon as we can work it in. Riley’s looking to do it in a few sessions, since it’s quite a bit larger than I’d originally asked for.”
“The art in her shop looked spectacular. Having a custom tattoo from her is gonna be boss, brother.” Denver hung on Rocker’s shoulder. “I approve of her being the club tat artist, Tinder. Righteous pick.”
“You know you didn’t have a fucking say in it, right?” Tinder shook his head.
Dan glanced around, noting there was a pocket of stillness surrounding them, all other brothers keeping a distance.
Good, means I can ask my questions. “Denver, think you can find out what fucking club that was in Cali? Same asshole you’re already looking for, maybe deceased.
Ronald Valdez. I’d like to understand if he’s in the ground yet. ”
“I’ll check. Do you know where in SoCal? There’s a fuckton of clubs out there, man. Some of them measure their territory by the city block.” Denver pulled out his phone and made a couple of voice notes. “Be nice to have a starting point.”
“I’ll ask her tonight. But, if she’s not having a good night, you might just need to look through everyone.”
“I’ll start today.” Denver made another voice note. “That shit was bullshit. If she’d never known the club, there couldn’t be any way she’d have recognized what she was risking.”
“Just another reason to finalize kicking HHMC out of our area. I can see those fuckers doing something like that. Blaming the victim. ‘Oh, you made me do this.’” Rocker’s voice was pitched low. “Fucking motherfuckers.”
“I’m glad she’s found someone like you, Raggedy Dan.” Tinder backhanded his chest, knuckles rapping off Dan’s sternum.
“That’s not a name that’s going to stick.”
“Oh, yeah, it fucking is. Already having a nameplate made for you. It’s happening, Raggedy Dan.”
“I’d prefer just Dan.”
“And I like Raggedy Dan, the quiet but ferocious enforcer.” Tinder laughed. “Hell of a road name, brother.”
“Might as well give in, Raggedy Dan,” Denver chimed in. “Raggedy Dan doesn’t hit hard. It’s smooth, sliding in under the humor bar, not instilling fear. Will let you get close to enemies and deal with them from inside.”
“Fuck,” he said, dipping his chin in deference.
“Fuck yeah, you mean,” Tinder laughed. “Fuck yeah.”