Chapter 13
13
ZARINA
I knew that I was tense against his back.
We were still going pretty slow, but everything felt so close. Every passing car, every pedestrian, every building was right there.
There was no roof, no doors, no airbag. It was just the wheels beneath us and the rest of the world above us. It was a little easier to relax once we left the city behind. The highway was quiet, and the traffic was thin.
Ashe picked up his speed but I, to my own surprise, wasn’t afraid.
I closed my eyes and let the wind whip through me. My heart was pounding, but in a good way. Maybe this was the feeling I’d been chasing on all my nights out, all my reckless decisions, all my misadventures— this was the feeling.
Ashe took an exit, a sharp turn that required him to lean the bike right over, and I understood what he meant then about leaning with him. If I’d sat up, if I had shied away from the road, it probably would have thrown us off balance.
So even though the bitumen was only inches away from my knee as we leaned through the corner, I stayed flush against Ashe’s back.
When he moved, the bike moved, I moved.
It was like we were all operating as a singular thing speeding through the streets. I could have continued for hours and not been bored. But too quickly, Ashe had pulled into a parking lot and cut the engine.
“How was that?” he asked, taking off his helmet and putting the kickstand down.
“Honestly?”
He nodded, holding out a hand to help me off the bike.
“I kind of want one.”
His eyebrows shot up, but he laughed.
“I don’t think you’re ready for one of these ,” he patted the seat affectionately. “We might start you out on something a bit smaller, slower.”
It was my turn to raise my eyebrows in shock at his slip, and I pressed my lips together to contain the teasing smirk that threatened.
“ We ?”
Ashe’s smile wavered and he cleared his throat, stepping forward to help me with the helmet. I watched his face as he did it, and I could’ve sworn his cheeks turned a little pink.
Music played quietly inside of what I could now see was a small pub. The parking lot was littered with a few old utes, and also a few extra bikes.
Holy shit.
I liked this Redliner. But I wasn’t sure if I was ready to meet more of them.
Ashe seemed to notice my hesitation, and he held out a hand.
“There’s only two of them here. We don’t have to talk to them if you don’t want to.”
I nodded, and would be lying if my mind didn’t immediately wander towards the fact that maybe I would be able to get some useful information for my brother out of this encounter.
Maybe this could’ve been my chance to prove myself useful in some way to my family.
Ashe pushed the door open, holding it for me as I stepped through.
The classic Aussie rock grew louder once I was inside, and my ears instantly recognised the tune of ‘Working Class Man’, which ironically was my father’s favourite song—even though I don’t believe he’d actually completed a singular day of real work in his life.
The whole dank bar smelled like any other pub, a mixture of tobacco and beer, with a musk of all the men who gathered after long days of manual labour.
Ashe’s hand was at the small of my back, leading me quickly towards a booth before too many people would notice me standing there. I was definitely the odd one out, and the fact that I was not their usual clientele was obvious immediately by all the curious eyes on me.
My eyes scanned the faces of the people inside, wondering which ones were Redliners and which ones were just innocent bystanders. Most of the men inside were middle aged if not older, and the one woman behind the bar looked tired of every single one of them.
I slid into the sticky leather seat of the booth and Ashe disappeared towards the bar once I was sat down. He leaned over the counter, speaking with the tired woman, and she nodded once, eyes flickering to me once quickly before she produced two drinks.
Ashe placed a red drink in front of me, and returned with his own schooner of some type of beer.
“So this is where you hang out?” I arched an eyebrow at him.
It did not feel like his scene.
Ashe was young enough.
And for the most part, he seemed pretty cool. So why the fuck was he hanging out in this den of fucking mid-life-crises?
He answered with a shrug. “Sometimes.”
I nodded slowly, still looking around.
“You have some pretty deep daddy issues, huh?” I sipped at my drink, which I discovered was a poorly made vodka cranberry.
Ashe didn’t answer.
Didn’t have to.
“It’s okay.” It was my turn to shrug. “I have daddy and mummy issues, so you’re fine.”
That broke him. His serious demeanour shifted into an unwilling chuckle, and I smiled.
It was quickly becoming a fun game to me, seeing just how easily I could break whatever tough-guy act that Ashe was so desperate to maintain.
“Daddy issues, you say?” another man, probably around Ashe’s age, slipped into the seat next to me in the booth with a smirk.
I considered him, eyeing him up and down.
Ashe ran a hand down his face and groaned.
The man smiled a gleaming, charming, lopsided smile, and I was sure that this man was very popular with women—and I was even more sure that he knew it.
“I’m Charmer,” he held out a hand.
“Zarina,” I said, shaking his offered hand.
Charmer didn’t let go once the shake was complete, instead bringing my hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it.
I cringed away, pulling my hand free.
His mouth fell open in mock offence and shock, placing a hand over his heart.
“Chivalry is dead!” He cried and pounded his fist on the table.
“I don’t think that’s what chivalry is,” I shook my head, just as Ashe spat “Go away!” through gritted teeth.
“Is this the Santino girl you… ya know?” Another man slid into the booth, not looking at me.
“For fuck’s sake…” Ashe muttered into his hand.
“Yes,” I smiled, offering my hand to him. “Zarina.”
He shook it once, quickly but gently. “Bull.”
Bull was a giant, probably the tallest person I had ever seen in my life. But he was wide, too. His frame was bulky and sturdy, and he took up most of the space in the booth. The grey shirt that he wore seemed to strain against the thick trunks he had for arms, and I honestly wondered how somebody came to be this large.
He was quite the stark opposite to Charmer, who was handsome, but lean. The pair looked like different versions of the beast from Beauty and the Beast.
Charmer was much more like the human form of the prince, with defined muscles and a nearly clean-shaven jaw. His hair was an almost-black that looked brown when the light hit it, ruffled and mussed in an intentional way.
But Bull much more resembled the Beast, his light brown waves flowing down the nape of his neck and scruffy beard covering much of his face.
“Do we operate on a nickname-only basis or something?” I arched a brow.
“Vince,” Ashe said, pointing at Charmer. “Liam,” he then pointed at Bull.
“Dude!” the pair whined in unison.
Ashe sat back in his chair with a contented smile on his face, cradling his drink and taking a small sip.
“It’s fine,” I put my hands up in surrender. “I’ll call you by your dumbass nicknames. Bloody bikers.”
“Ha!” Charmer snorted a laugh. “So we’re just gonna cruise right by the fact that your name literally just means Princess ?”
“Baby, I know what my name means,” I cooed playfully. “I fucking earn it too.”
Charmer frowned for a moment, considering me, before nodding slowly.
“I can appreciate that.”
I rolled my eyes, tipping back the rest of my drink.
“Plus,” I wiped my mouth on my sleeve. “I didn’t give myself the name, so it’s different.”
“We don’t pick our names either,” Bull frowned.
My brows lifted.
“They’re given to us,” Charmer nodded.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “Why’d you get Charmer?”
He shot me an incredulous look, as if it were a stupid question.
Perhaps it was a stupid question.
I had known the man all but two minutes and I could understand the name choice.
“Fine,” I relinquished. “What about Bull? That’s quite specific.”
“I’m big,” Bull said plainly, but shuffled in his seat a little.
I narrowed my eyes at him, noticing the way his cheeks seemed to go a little rosy under his beard.
“What else?”
Charmer threw his head back in laughter that told me I was right. That his size could not be the only factor in the choice of name.
“Cause he’s a ham-fisted fuckin’ giant,” Charmer gestured towards the hulking man. “Don’t let the muscles fool ya, he’s not coordinated in the slightest.”
Bull leaned forward a little to shove a warning finger in Charmer’s face, knocking his glass off the table with his elbow as he did it.
“Like a bull in a china shop,” Ashe clarified with a chuckle as the schooner hit the floor and smashed and shattered into pieces.
“Sorry!” Bull put his hands up, apologising to the woman behind the bar who was shaking her head at him as if this was not the first time this had happened.
He quickly stood (knocking the table with his knee as he did) and retrieved the dust pan from behind the counter (he knew exactly where it was) to clean up the mess.
“Okay,” I pressed my lips together, trying not to chuckle as hard as the others at Bull’s misfortune. “What about Ashe, aka, Henny ?”
Ashe’s smile dropped a little, and focused then on fiddling with the paper coaster in front of him. Charmer’s eyes flickered towards his friend, as if asking for permission to tell the story before he did.
“I smashed a bottle of Hennesey over a guy’s head,” Ashe answered, to my surprise.
“That doesn’t seem so bad,” I said slowly, because I could sense there was more to the story.
“It was King,” Charmer finally added with a huff of almost-laughter.
“Oh,” my eyebrows shot up. “The old president?”
Ashe nodded.
“King liked to run his mouth,” Charmer said with a roll of his eyes and a bite to his tone. “But he also… He didn’t know how to take no for an answer. He took it a little too far with one of the bar chicks that used to work at the clubhouse back in the day, and I guess Ashe was feeling a little suicidal that night.” He huffed another laugh, but it wasn’t quite out of amusement.
“So you smashed a bottle over the president’s head and still got to stay part of the MC?”
Ashe offered a half-smile. “I paid for it.”
Charmer’s smile was gone.
I didn’t want to ask anymore questions. Didn’t want to know what Ashe had been put through for standing up for someone. I had heard the stories about how King treated his enemies. I could only imagine what he would have done to someone who was under his control, supposed to be loyal to him.
“But hey,” Charmer perked up again, but it seemed a little forced. “The fucker is dead now, so who gives a shit?”
“I’ll cheers to that,” I lifted my drink and Charmer clinked his glass against it.
So, even the Redliners didn’t like King?
Did my brother know this? What did that mean for the future of the Redliners? For the future of my family?
“Now we just gotta deal with these other fuckers and we’ll finally be free, hey Henny?”
“Are you talking shit about my family while I’m sitting right here?” I snorted, pointing a finger at my chest.
“Well, yes,” he shrugged. “But The Santinos aren’t our only problem.”
“Who else is there?”
“Other MCs.”
“A few small time wannabe gangs that fuck our plans up,” Bull returned and added with a nod.
“Yeah, just a bunch of dumb fuckers playing outlaw,” Charmer winked.
“Sounds like someone else we know,” Ashe smirked but tried to hide it behind his glass.
I scowled at him. “I’ll smash a fucking bottle over your head if you’re not careful.”
Charmer’s eyes sparkled with excitement, and he leaned forward towards me, framing his face with his hands.
“What bottle would you use?”
I pursed my lips and thought for a moment.
“If I use a bottle of Grey Goose, do you think I’ll be stuck with the name Goose?”
Both Charmer and Bull nodded solemnly.
“Fuck,” I muttered, rubbing my temples.
“What about Captain Morgan?” Bull offered with a thoughtful crease between his brows. “We could call you Captain.”
My head snapped towards him. “I love that.”
He raised his glass at me, as if to say, ‘ you’re welcome’ .
“Zarina!” A shout boomed through the pub and all of our heads swivelled towards the voice that was familiar to only me.
I groaned, sinking down into my seat with a roll of my eyes.
“Who’s this wank?” Charmer frowned at the man in the doorway with angry eyes scanning the crowd for my face.
“My bodyguard ,” I made a face.
Theo’s eyes finally fell on our table, widening as he took in the people I was with. I was sure that he would have been at least a little prepared that I may have been with Ashe, but probably hadn’t accounted for the two other men by my side.
He launched towards us, and all three Redliners stood at once, creating a barricade with their bodies in front of me, and I was quietly grateful.
“Zarina,” Theo stared at me, ignoring the men in front of him. “You need to get out of here. Now.”
“Why?” I snapped. “I’m fine, Theo. Go home.”
“It is my job to keep you safe, right? Let me do my fucking job.”
“Mate,” Ashe sighed. “Does she look unsafe right now?”
Charmer glanced at me from over his shoulder. “Nah, looks mighty safe to me.”
Theo looked at them finally, hot rage in his eyes before they were directed back at me.
“Please, Zarina,” he pleaded through gritted teeth, softening a little. “Please.”
I sighed, shaking my head.
For fuck’s sake.
It wasn’t Theo’s fault.
It wasn’t him that I should’ve been mad at. I knew exactly who would’ve given the order for him to bust in here, and I knew that the poor bloke probably had a hundred things he’d rather be doing than following me around.
“Fine,” I snapped, gathering my bag and drowning the last of my drink. “I’ll come with you.”
“You sure, Captain?” Bull side-eyed me.
I put my hand on his arm for a moment, nodding, and he stepped out of the way, clearing the path for me to get out of the booth.
Theo’s face was scrunched and crumpled with confusion and anger, eyes darting between me and the men.
I stopped in front of Ashe and exhaled. “Sorry,” I shrugged.
He smirked, tucking a stray hair behind my ear before letting his finger run down the side of my jaw. Every move he made was slow, calculated, even as it ran down my neck and the column of my throat, setting the nerves in my spine alight.
“It’s okay, darlin’,” he smiled that lop-sided smile. “I’ll see you later.”
“Like fuck you will.” Theo stabbed a finger in his direction.
Ashe’s eyes lifted from mine to Theo’s, head tilting to the side.
“You don’t get to make that decision, mate.”
“Yes. I do, actually.” Theo huffed. “So why don’t you just leave her alone?”
Ashe exhaled one beat of stirring, antagonistic laughter.
“Why don’t you fucking make me?”
Bull’s hand was around my bicep after that, tugging me out of the crossfire as Theo closed the space between him and Ashe in a long stride.
Ashe didn’t flinch though, and stayed planted with his arms crossed around his chest. They were basically nose to nose, chest to chest, sizing one another up and seeing who would back down first.
“Enough!” The woman behind the bar shouted.
Ashe’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t move.
“I won’t have to make you.” It was Theo’s turn to laugh, finally taking a step back and shaking his head. “Don Antoni will deal with you himself.”
“Ah,” Ashe nodded now, chuckling as he sat lazily back down in the booth and sprawled out. “Well do tell him that I look forward to a visit. If he wants my address, he can get it off his sister,” he motioned towards me with a jut of his chin.
“Ashe,” I warned, but had to press my lips together to stop from laughing.
“Vikki,” Ashe motioned with a raised hand to the woman behind the bar. “A bottle of Captain Morgan for the lady, please.”
I arched a brow.
“Just in case,” he added in a whisper with a wink in my direction.
“What the hell are you doing?” Theo frowned, shaking his head in confusion as the woman quickly brought me a brand new bottle of Captain Morgan rum.
“Hey,” Ashe put his hands up in mock surrender. “Happy wife, happy life, right?”
Theo leaned forward then and grabbed me by the wrist, yanking me forward and into motion towards the door.
I looked once more over my shoulder towards Ashe, and he was still watching. The playful mask of cool and calm was gone now, and his eyes tracked me with that dark, protective glare.