Chapter Five
I had a horrible time falling asleep after Maverick left. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the look on his face when he called himself a jackass for giving me a chance after I’d rejected him.
The crazy part was, I thought I’d been the one giving him a chance in spite of myself. When I took a second to stop being so incredibly self-absorbed, I saw the whole situation from his perspective, and I realized how awful I’d been to him from the very beginning. I’d made so many assumptions about the kind of man he was, and what he wanted from a woman like me.
I’d been mortifyingly wrong.
What made it worse was there was nothing I could do to change it.
I could apologize, sure, but I couldn’t give him what he wanted. I couldn’t entertain a relationship with him. Not because there was anything wrong with him, but because what I’d told him was true. We lived in different worlds. I wouldn’t claim to understand what it meant to be a Wild Stallion, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
I’d been unfair enough. I couldn’t ask for part of him and ignore the rest of him—the rest of him being such a huge part of his identity.
All of this was still circling around my brain Sunday morning as I got up and started my day.
For a fleeting moment, I thought about calling my mom. I discarded the thought almost immediately. There was no way I could tell her how I’d attempted to concoct a friends-with-benefits situation and failed, miserably. She would neither understand nor approve, and I didn’t need anyone judging me. I was doing enough of that on my own.
Tess and I had originally planned to get pedicures that morning before everything went down with Mary-Kate. Mustang’s little princess was home now, thankfully, but I knew Tess would likely have her hands full, sticking close to both Mary-Kate and her man.
I hadn’t told her about Maverick. Not about our first kiss. Not about our planned date. None of it. I wanted desperately to talk to her about it now, but I knew the timing wasn’t right. She had her priorities, and I wasn’t going to distract her.
Thinking about Tess and her new, familial priorities made me, admittedly, a little jealous. For such a long time, we’d had only each other to rely on when things got crazy. Now she had Mustang, too. They were new, but I’d seen enough of the two of them to believe she’d finally met her match. They were solid. In spite of my jealousy, I was genuinely happy for her. In a way, I was grateful she’d found her guy. It was added incentive for me to put myself out there and try to do the same.
I knew only one thing for sure.
I wasn’t going to find Mr. Right while sulking in my living room.
Setting aside my coffee, I picked up my phone and navigated to the app store. It was time I gave Lindsey’s advice a try. I knew she was on at least three different dating apps, but I decided I would start slow. I downloaded one, willed myself not to wimp out, then set about creating my profile.
I wasn’t sure how optimistic I felt, but it was something, and something was better than nothing.
Maverick
They were rolling down I-25, Maverick leading the pack with Wrangler riding at his left flank and Twister at his right. They were an hour into their three-hour journey south, and he couldn’t stop thinking about Jenna. He had other things to worry about, but the memory of her naked body underneath his was nearly impossible to forget.
He’d left her place more disappointed than pissed, which felt worse. Anger would have been preferrable—but disappointment that he’d only had her once was insurmountable.
He’d wanted her for weeks.
She’d been fucking worth the wait.
And it wasn’t just her body he lusted after.
If they’d gone to dinner and she’d been a vapid shell of a woman, he wouldn’t have been bothered by her second rejection in two days. But she was the opposite of vapid. At Steel Mustang, she’d been fun and flirty. At the Prime Rib Restaurant, she’d been interesting and engaging. She was as smart as she was gorgeous, and while she sat across from him, he felt lucky to have the privilege of being her date.
Even her sass and sarcasm had been appealing.
When he really thought about it, he had no one to blame but himself for his disappointment. She’d warned him. At her front door, she’d told him she didn’t think their relationship would go anywhere.
But he’d wanted her too much to listen.
It wasn’t that he thought one round in bed would change her mind.
It was that he couldn’t give up his one shot.
Still, he never saw it coming that she’d climb off his dick only to profess she’d take his body but leave the rest.
Wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last, but it still sucked.
He’d accused her of being no better than a sheep. While it was partially true, it had been a low blow. She was so much more than a hang-around. That was the problem, as that was most of the appeal.
It wasn’t necessarily that he wanted a woman he couldn’t bring around, but he liked the idea of a classy lady on his hog.
He liked the reality of Jenna on his hog.
But that would be no more than a memory.
Though, as he rode, he couldn’t deny he’d be to blame if he never sank his dick inside her warm, tight pussy again. The offer was out there for the taking. Seeing as she’d been the only woman to get him hard in nearly a month, if the best he could do was get her out of his system, seemed idiotic to deny himself completely, even if it fell short of what he really wanted.
Whatever he decided to do about Jenna, it would have to wait for the following day.
His Sunday was spoken for, his first task taking him to a clubhouse in Cheyenne.
Shit was stirring, and Wrangler, Twister, and Maverick were responsible for delivering a message to the brothers stirring it.
For as long as he’d been a Stallion, there’d been the code of the brotherhood and their rule of law. The number one rule was no drugs. Drugs created addicts, and addicts were sloppy. For most, it was an easy rule to follow. The Stallions knew how to party without the recreational supplements. Booze and pussy worked just fine. But given their off-the-book activities, access to drugs resulted in a regular temptation.
Until four years ago, when Bull took over as president, they’d been active participants in the trafficking of drugs and guns. While the Stallions weren’t a part of direct sales, they were in the business of protection. They were paid handsomely to be the muscle that escorted the product from point A to point B.
They might have still been working with Gabriel Alvarez, kingpin of one of the largest drug cartels north of Denver, if rules hadn’t been broken, creating utter chaos. The Stallions had seen some dark days under the leadership of their former club president, Scorpion.
The expansion of the Stallions to neighboring cities was strategic, but it also created the opportunity for things to get out of hand. Things got messy. Brothers got greedy. Including Scorpion, who let shit slide.
It was when he began using himself that business took a turn.
It started with his idea to incorporate a stable of women. Problem was, Scorpion didn’t know how to manage the operation. As someone who treated his ol’ lady like garbage, it was no wonder he let the Johns get away with some messed up shit, failing to adequately take care of Stallions property. The prostitutes brought in more drugs, and usage spread like a virus. Unfortunately, that was just the start of it.
When selling whores wasn’t enough, Scorpion got in the business of trafficking women and girls.
There were very few Stallions who were on board with that shit, but it was getting pushed from the very top. Resistance could cost a man his patch. For a couple of Maverick’s brothers, they walked away on their own, surrendering their Stallion patches for good. It was Bull who took a stand, creating a way out for all of them.
It had been a yearlong process, recruiting brothers onto his side, but he’d done it, and he’d done it clean. That wasn’t to say there hadn’t been bloodshed. Bull’s takeover had been hostile, resulting in a civil war. The good guys won, but they’d taken their losses.
Aside from the death of one of the best among them, Scorpion’s incarceration was merely a stop-gap.
The Stallions made it a habit of keeping the cops out of their business when at all possible, but Bull insisted he wasn’t going to murder to win. The only way they could get Scorpion out was on some trumped-up drug charge that had him behind bars for seven years. That was certainly long enough for Bull to establish himself as their leader—but they all knew trouble would come in another three years, when Scorpion walked free.
Nonetheless, that was a problem for another day.
At present, their troubles were coming from the inside.
When Bull took over, they stopped with the drugs completely. It was the beginning of a new era. While the Stallions would always be outlaws, making their own rules and working off the books to pad their pockets, they were a respectable crew who put family first. Bull had made the call, putting the safety of the club’s members above financial gain, and that meant cutting ties with the cartel.
The only work they did off the books was gun trafficking and protection runs for those who needed it and had the cash to secure it. But a few weeks ago, Bronco—the president of the Cheyenne chapter—came to Bull with a problem. His vice president, Viper, had been dipping his toe back in the drug world.
Bronco had come to their leader in good faith, wanting to get ahead of the problem. It was a sign of respect—one Bull appreciated. The trouble was, the order had been to kill it, and it wasn’t dead yet.
They weren’t getting back in the drug business. It hadn’t been pretty getting out. Not to mention, they were doing just fine without it. But in spite of the order, a few days ago, a couple of young colts—not even fully patched—had been popped for drug possession.
Maverick, Wrangler, and Twister were on their way to Cheyenne as a courtesy. Bull had sent his VP to deliver a message Bronco didn’t want delivered from Bull himself. Sending Twister was a warning shot. If Bronco didn’t get his house in order, Bull would.
It was a long ride to deliver a short message, but it was the mission.
And it wasn’t the only mission the three of them had to see through that day.
Trix needed to be handled, too.
Mustang had made the call that it was time to deal with Beatrix once and for all. As far as Maverick was concerned, Mustang had been more than patient with the woman over the last four years. Hell—the fact he put up with her at all after she poked holes in his condoms was mercy the likes of which she took for granted.
She’d brought her fate on herself, time and time again.
MK almost dying in her care? If Mustang hadn’t made the call, more than a few of his brothers would have made it for him.
The plan was set. All that was left was to see it through.
That night, upon their return from Cheyenne, they’d make sure she got what she deserved.
After they’d seen to her, their day would be done.
When his day was done, Maverick could decide what he was going to do about Jenna.