Chapter 1
Present day
“I thought you liked Casey?” Stella frowns. Trying to ignore the woman is impossible. She may be Harlem’s daughter, the club’s Enforcer, but she can hold her own.
I do like Casey. Heck, I may even be in love with the infuriating woman, not that I’d ever admit that, but Stella is nosy, and a gossip. I know the girls of the MC have a group chat, and only Manny, the club’s cook, is allowed in there because everyone loves Manny. The news of my unrequited pining would be all through the chat faster than you can blink. Then I’d be a laughingstock. Especially with my club brothers.
It’s one thing to be the hero for the woman in your life, it’s quite another to fall for a woman who hates you. There’s no heroics in that, only stupidity.
“Never said I didn’t.”
“So, why are you being all cagey whenever her name is mentioned?”
I wipe the sweat from my brow and glance up. Stella is here to annoy me, nothing else. Don’t get me wrong, the woman is gorgeous, but she’s more like a sister than a potential bed-mate. That would be weird. Especially because I’ve been in the club for five years, and she was just a teenager then.
“I’m not cagey, and are you here to help me, or just annoy me?”
She huffs, handing me the wrench. “Rude. I’m just making conversation.”
“Bringin’ up Casey isn’t gonna get this job done any faster.”
“Typical male, you can’t do more than one thing at once.”
I ignore the jibe, tightening the screw.
My prez, Cash, just put me in charge of the new shooting range, and we’re due to open in a few weeks. I’ve never had this kind of responsibility before, so I want to do a good job. I was a prospect in the club for almost two years, then I got patched in. I live and breathe this club. They’re a second family to me, and I respect Cash, just like I do my dad. Cash is the kind of prez that is always looking out for it’s members; we’re a family, and I’ve been in the firing line on more than on occasion. When I was a prospect and put in charge of Deanna, Cash’s ol’ lady, I stopped an attempted kidnapping, getting myself hurt in the process. Since that day, Cash has had a new respect for me. And while I didn’t do that because I wanted to get patched in faster, Cash knew where my loyalties lie. Where they’ve always lay; with my club.
Momma wasn’t always on board with my decision to join the MC, but then she found out the Rebels aren’t a 1% club, and we all have legit jobs, lives, and even kids. It’s not Sons of Anarchy over here, although sometimes shit can still get rough. We’ve had more kidnappings, shoot outs, revenge plots, mystery stalkers, betrayals, bungled break-ins, attacks and gun-shot wounds than you can poke a stick at. But the club is still standing. Still united. Ride or Die, that’s our motto.
“Why did they send you here anyway?”
She sighs again. “Tag.”
I chuckle. Tag is the club’s Sergeant at Arms and one tough motherfucker. He’s also known as grumpy pants to some and rarely smiles. When he does, it’s usually because he’s broken some asshole's nose, or rearranged an enemy’s face. He’s less frosty for a beat when his ol’ lady Luna is around, then goes back to bossing us all around.
“What did he do now?”
“What didn’t he do? I’ve been working my butt off helping him at the workshop, and since I turn twenty-one in a few weeks, I’m going to ask again about prospecting for the club.”
I almost choke on my own spit. It’s no secret Stella has wanted to prospect forever, but Harlem is against it. Not only is she under age, but being a girl, it’s not like it’s common practice. Hey, I’ve got nothing against the idea. Stella isn’t some damsel in distress; she works hard, has a good head on her shoulders, and is smarter than most people I know. I think she should be given a shot, but the boys are worried about appearances. Having a female patched member could send out a signal that we’re weak. I like to remind everyone around the table that even the Hell’s Angels have female patched members, but they don’t like facts waved in their faces.
“You really think your pops is gonna let that happen?” I smirk.
“It’s not up to him. It’s up to Cash.”
“While I agree with you, if that’s the pitch you’re goin’ with, you better work on your strategy, because I’m not convinced.”
I glance up and she frowns. “I thought you supported me in this?”
“I do, but you know for a fact that if — and this is a pretty big if — the club does let you prospect, they’re gonna set you up to fail.”
Her frown deepens. “What do you mean?”
“Stell, come on. You’re Harlem’s kid. For one, the other prospects will make your life hell, as will the members, and if they go easy on you, then they’ll be accused of bein’ soft,” I say. “And if anyone even looks at you sideways, Harlem will kill ‘em with his bare hands. Not that I wouldn’t mind seein’ that. For an old dude, your dad can be one scary motherfucker.”
“There is nothing they can do to break me,” she says bravely. “I think they know that and that’s why they haven’t let me prospect until I’m twenty-one. They believed I’d lose interest by then, but my belief and loyalty only grew stronger. I belong in this club just as much as anyone else.”
I stop what I’m doing. She’s heartfelt, I’ll give her that. But even she has to see that if they do give her a shot, mainly to shut her up, they won’t make life any easier than they would for a male prospect. Stella is tough, but I’m not even sure she could endure some of the shitty jobs a prospect has to deal with. I think about some of the horrible jobs I’ve had to do and shudder.
Working every long, horrible shift in the bar, restaurant, service station; anywhere the club owns, without complaint and crappy pay. Cleaning the communal toilets — I’ll say no more. Boring stake-outs. Watching every ol’ lady in the clubhouse from one time or another when shit was going down and putting up with their lip. Disposing of a body — okay, that one is drastic, but it’s still part of the job. Could Stella really go dump a body out in the bayou?
“The question is, do you have the stomach for it?” I pique a brow. “Some of the things I had to do as a prospect may or may not include all night stake outs without any sleep, workin’ seven days a week?—”
“I already work hard.”
“What about clean up? Are you really willin’ to take dead bodies out to the bayou and dump them in the swamp?” I say. “Wouldn’t want those pretty nails gettin’ dirty now, would we?”
She flips me the bird. “You think I’m scared of a little blood and a corpse? Puh-lease. I can stomach working with Tag all day, cleaning the bathroom we have to share, and spending sixteen hours a day under the hood of a car, sweating and covered in grease. I’m good. In fact, becoming a prospect might even be easier than what I’ve been doing lately.
I snort. I sincerely doubt that.
It’s no secret the club keeps their enemies away, and what better place than alligator infested waters where nobody would ever venture. I’m not telling her shit she doesn’t already know. Even the club business that we keep from the women doesn’t always stay quiet. They all talk amongst themselves, and pillow talk between a biker and his ol’ lady is the sure fire way to spread club secrets faster than a fungal infection.
I know it, and so does she.
I go back to tightening the nut with the wrench. “Well, then if you think you’re good, you need to prepare, because you’ve gotta be better than good, princess. What’s your plan of attack?”
“My plan of attack?”
“Yeah, please tell me you have one. Beggin’ Daddy to let you in the club ain’t gonna work, Stell. And you know Cash won’t just feel sorry for you no matter what Tag throws your way.” I grimace just a little. Working with Tag all day can’t be easy.
“Tag I can handle,” she says bravely. “I do everything he asks, and turn up to help when I’m not even on the roster. I’m busting my ass to show him, my dad, and the club I can do this.”
Her enthusiasm is commendable, if I do say so myself. “Great.”
A few moments of silence pass and I glance at her. She’s staring at me and I can see the cogs turning in her head. “What?” I sigh.
“You have to help me.”
My eyes grow wide. “I don’t have to do anything.”
“No, but you will.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because I’m the only one who can get you back in Casey’s good books.”
I almost choke on my own tongue. “What?” I sputter. “You’re barkin’ up the wrong tree.”
“What happened with you two anyway? Like six months ago you were all cozy and she talked about you all the time like a little school girl, then she wanted to make a dart board out of your head.”
“We had a misunderstandin’.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve made a mistake.
“What happened?”
I sigh. I know this maddening woman won’t leave my side until I dish some of the dirt. And while I want to protect Casey’s privacy, Stella is like a dog with a bone.
She doesn’t need to know details. Not whe whole tale, anyway.
“If I tell you, will you go away?”
“Hey, that’s not nice.”
“Fine. Grab that hook over there, you can hold it still while I attempt to fix the next joint.”
She doesn’t protest, because if there’s one thing Stella loves more, it’s fresh gossip.
She does as she’s told, waiting as patently as someone like Stella can. I’ve a good mind to make her wait until she’s annoyed with impatience, then she might leave, but I’m not a complete asshole.
“She thought I slept with Cupcake,” I say finally.
Stella blinks in confusion. “Oh, my god.”
“I didn’t,” I clarify. I also don’t add that fateful evening when Cupcake took it upon herself to come to my home, then answered my door while I was still sleeping when Casey showed up. Unbeknown to me, the two of them had an altercation which made matters that much worse because Casey and I slept together in a slightly drunken, downright dirty night of debauchery. A night that would change my life forever. The night I fell in love. But Casey took one look at Cupcake who was half undressed, and jumped to conclusions. It looked bad. I know it did. But it didn’t go down like that. Cupcake still refused to tell me what went down, but judging by her answering the door, I know exactly what happened.
Now she won’t speak to me. Well, not without hurling insults at me in the process.
When her sister, Crystal; our VP Ryder’s ol’ lady, needed my help recently when Ryder, along with their son, Aidan, were kidnapped, Casey’s rage hadn’t simmered. It didn’t matter what I said or did, she’d made her mind up. Now she hates me, and I’m left pining for the one woman I can’t have.
“So why would she think that?”
“It was a misunderstanding. Cupcake came to my room, and before I got a chance to get rid of her, Casey showed up. So now she thinks we hooked up.”
“Hmm, so if that’s the case, then Casey must’ve really liked you,” Stella goes on.
Assuming girls know a shit ton more than me about ‘feelings’ it prompts me to ask, “How do you figure?”
She shrugs. “She’s hurt.”
I figured that part out on my own, but it’s always good to get a female perspective. It isn’t like I can ask any of the girls in the club. It’s also interesting that nobody knows anything about this, which means Casey didn’t say anything to anyone. Even Crystal seems clueless as to why there’s animosity between us.
“I can see why she’s mad because I liked her and she knew that, but I didn’t sleep with Cupcake.”
“Did you tell her that?”
“I tried.”
“I don’t think you tried hard enough.” She tsks. “A word to the wise? Women don’t want a man who can’t be truthful.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “I was tryin’ to be truthful, that’s the whole point. She’s maddening.”
“So she still thinks, all this time later, you slept with Cupcake?”
“Exactly. I’ve tried to set her straight, but each time she just shuts me down. She won’t hear it. I even tried to get Cupcake to go and apologize, but Casey looked like she might rip her head off, so I thought better of it.”
“That was awfully kind of you,” Stella says. There’s no love lost between her and Cupcake.
Casey is a club sister; someone who is part of the club like Stella is through her dad, but they’re not an ol’ lady. And sometimes women just don’t get along.
We had a wild night. We were both a little drunk. Casey asked me if I was a good guy, and I told her I was. It wasn’t a lie. I don’t think I’m any kind of saint, but I’m decent enough.
She confessed her ex-boyfriend cheated on her. Now I’m putting the pieces together: she thinks I’m one big red flag. We may not have been together, nor did I promise her anything, but we have chemistry. Before she hated me, I used to make her laugh. That’s no easy feat because my girl is a paramedic, and she doesn’t have a whole lot to smile about in her job.
I shrug. “What more can I do?”
Stella gapes at me like I’m dumb. “So that’s it? You’re just gonna let her get away?”
“Not like I can chase her down and make her believe me,” I gripe as she shakes her head, forcing me to ask; “What?”
“Men are so dumb.”
“I figured that part already, you got somethin’ else I don’t already know?”
“If you really like her, it’s simple. Make her understand.”
I laugh. “Make a girl, who’s just not that into me, understand. Uh, huh. I’m sure I didn't hear you right, because we’re clearly not talkin’ about the same Casey. The one I know is a wild cat.”
“Don’t believe all that feminist bullshit.” Stella waggles a finger at me. “Some of us want to be grabbed by the neck, bent over the kitchen bench and?—”
“Woah, woah.” I cover my ears with my hands. “Stell, please do me a favor and let’s not talk about you bein’ bent over surfaces, got me? Jesus.”
“Aww, you’re so sweet, getting all weird like a big brother. But you can blame Amber and Bronco, they have a book club and I’ve been reading their recommendations. It’s amazing what you can do with a cucumber.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. I love my club brother Bronco, but a romance book club? I swear to god this clubhouse is turning to shit.
I shake my head. “While I try to get that vision out of my brain, I’m the one that has to look your dad in the eye. I’d rather do it with a clear conscience.”
“Such a gentleman.”
“Bronco really reads that shit?”
She rolls her eyes. “It isn’t shit, it’s romance, dick head. Maybe you should take a leaf out of Bronco’s book and read about how to please your woman.”
I give her a deadpan look. “I don’t need any ideas about pleazin’ a woman from no damn book. I do just fine on my own.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yep.”
She glances over my shoulder, then all around the room. “Funny, I don’t see the one woman you want here.”