Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Shiver
I lean against the clubhouse wall, watching Siren take another drag from her joint.
The afternoon sun catches in her dark hair, highlighting streaks of chestnut.
She exhales slowly, smoke curling from her lips.
"You know those things'll kill ya," I drawl, unable to keep the smirk off my face.
Siren arches an eyebrow. "So will fuckin’ someone from another charter, but here we are."
I bark out a laugh.
Damn, I love her sharp tongue. "Touché, darlin'. Though I'd argue I'm more likely to give you life than take it away."
She rolls those captivating hazel eyes, but I catch the hint of a smile. "You're so full of shit, Shiver."
"Maybe." I push off the wall and saunter over to her. "But admit it, you like it."
Siren takes another drag, watching me through narrowed eyes.
I pluck the joint from her fingers and take a pull myself before crushing it under my boot.
"Hey!" she protests. "I wasn't done with that."
I crowd her space, backing her against the wall. "I've got something better for those pretty lips to do."
Her breath catches as I lean in, our mouths a whisper apart.
Just as she starts to close the distance, I pull back with a wicked grin. "Like tell me what you want for lunch. I'm starving."
Siren shoves me away with a groan. "You're such an asshole."
I laugh, throwing an arm around her shoulders as we head inside. "Yeah, but I'm your asshole."
The words slip out before I can stop them.
Shit.
I shouldn't be getting this comfortable, acting like we're more than what we are.
In less than two weeks, I'll be back in Vegas and she'll be here.
This thing between us has an expiration date.
But damn if I'm not enjoying every second until then.
Inside the clubhouse, a few of the guys are sprawled on couches, nursing beers despite the early hour.
I nod at Cobra as we pass.
"You two lovebirds decide what's for lunch?" he calls out.
I flip him off without breaking stride. "Fuck you, man."
His laughter follows us into the kitchen.
Siren hops up on the counter, swinging her legs as I rummage through the fridge.
"How about grilled cheese?" I ask, holding up a package of cheddar.
She wrinkles her nose. "Pass. I want real food."
I close the fridge and lean against it, crossing my arms. "Grilled cheese is real food."
"It's what you feed children when you're too lazy to cook."
"Hey now, don't go insulting my culinary skills."
Siren snorts. "What skills? I've yet to see any evidence you can actually cook."
I clutch my chest in mock offense. "You wound me, darlin'. I'll have you know I make a mean bowl of cereal."
She laughs, the sound wrapping around me like a comforting hug.
Christ, I'm in trouble here.
"Tell you what," I say, pushing off the fridge. "How about we go grab some real food in town? My treat."
Siren's eyes light up. "Now you're talking. But I'm driving."
I groan. "C'mon, I've seen how you drive. I'd like to make it to lunch in one piece."
She hops down from the counter, poking me in the chest. "My driving is impeccable, thank you very much. You're just jealous because I can handle these curves and winding roads better than you."
I catch her hand, pulling her close. "Oh sweetheart, I think you know damn well how good I am at handling curves."
Her breath hitches as I trail my fingers along her side, skimming the swell of her hip.
For a moment, the air between us crackles with electricity.
Then she dances out of my grip with a teasing smile. "Maybe later, hotshot. Right now, I want food."
I chuckle, shaking my head as I follow her out.
Damn woman's gonna be the death of me.
We hop into one of the club trucks.
Siren gets behind the wheel and I sit beside her in the passenger seat.
Sitting beside her, I can't help but think how right this feels, her sitting beside me as we head out to get a bite.
I shouldn’t be letting myself get used to this.
But fuck it.
I don’t have much time left here, so I might as well enjoy every goddamn second.
We pull into a small diner on the outskirts of town.
It's a dive, but sometimes those are the best places.
As we slide into a booth, a weathered waitress shuffles over.
"What can I getcha?" she asks, not bothering with pleasantries.
I grin at Siren. "Ladies first."
She studies the menu for a moment. "I'll have the biggest, greasiest burger you've got. Extra cheese, extra bacon. And a chocolate milkshake."
I whistle low. "Damn, girl. Where do you put it all?"
Siren winks. "Gotta keep my energy up to deal with you."
The waitress looks unimpressed. "And for you, sugar?"
"I'll have the same. But make mine a strawberry shake."
As the waitress walks away, Siren leans forward, elbows on the table. "Strawberry, huh? Wouldn't have pegged you for a fruity drink kinda guy."
I shrug. "What can I say? I'm full of surprises."
"That you are," she murmurs, something softer in her gaze.
I clear my throat, suddenly feeling exposed. "So, uh, you grew up around here?"
Siren shakes her head. "Nah, I'm a New York girl, born and raised. You damn well know that. Nothin’ about this accent screams Montana. Me and my sister came out here a few years back, after we met Zane at that meeting."
"The Bronx, right?" At her surprised look, I add, "Cobra mentioned it."
She nods. "Yeah, not exactly the nicest neighborhood. But it was home."
I can see the walls going up, sense there's more to the story.
But I don't push.
We've all got our demons.
"What about you?" she asks. "You don't strike me as a Vegas native."
I lean back, stretching an arm across the back of the booth. "Good eye. I'm Texas born and bred. Little town called Sharp."
Siren's eyes widen. "No shit? I've heard of it. Isn't that where?—"
"The Shotgun Saints MC is based? Yeah." I keep my tone casual, but my shoulders tense.
She studies me for a moment. "Huh. Small world."
I shrug, aiming for nonchalance. "It's a small town. Everyone knows everyone's business."
Siren opens her mouth to say more, but our food arrives.
I've never been so grateful for the distraction of a burger in my life.
We dig in, conversation falling away as we devour our meals.
Siren wasn't kidding about keeping her energy up—she demolishes that burger like it personally offended her.
"Enjoying that?" I ask, amused.
She looks up, a smear of ketchup on her chin. "What?"
I laugh, reaching across to wipe it away with my thumb. "You've got a little something."
Siren catches my wrist, her eyes locked on mine as she slowly licks the ketchup from my thumb.
Heat coils low in my gut.
"Thanks," she says innocently, releasing me.
I clear my throat. "Anytime."
We finish our meal in comfortable silence, sneaking glances at each other.
As I signal for the check, Siren stretches languidly.
"So, what's the plan for the rest of the day?" she asks.
I pretend to consider. "Well, I was thinking we could head back to the clubhouse, do some grunt work?—"
Siren kicks me under the table. "Don't even joke about that."
I grin. "Well, we gotta get back to the club regardless. "
Siren sighs and the two of us get ready to head out.
It’s not long before we’re back at the clubhouse, inside the garage with a bay open working on one of the bikes.
Cobra even comes in and helps us get a couple of things done, which is surprising.
Hell, it's not like we can ride our bikes up here this time of year anyway, so we might as well do some maintenance on them instead of sitting on our asses.
The rumble of an engine shatters the moment.
Kade comes tearing into the clubhouse parking lot, his tires kicking up gravel.
He leaps out of his truck, eyes wild with excitement.
Kade hollers, gesturing frantically at me and Cobra. "C'mon, you won't believe who Grim and Cheyenne have!"
We exchange a quick glance before jumping to our feet.
Whatever's got Kade this worked up, it's gotta be big.
As we follow him to the truck, I spot a massive dually truck idling nearby.
Zane's behind the wheel, looking impatient as hell.
"Hurry the fuck up!" he shouts, revving the engine.
I'm about to climb in when Siren looks between everyone.
Zane hollers at her. "Get your ass over here!"
Without missing a beat, Siren jumps into action.
She jogs over, that athletic yet curvaecous body of hers moving with a grace that makes my mouth go dry.
She hops into the truck, landing squarely between Cobra and me.
The cab's cramped, and I can feel the heat of her body pressed against mine.
It's torture, but the kind I could get used to.
I lean in close, my lips barely grazing her ear. "Bet you're enjoying yourself right now."
Siren rolls those hazel green eyes at me, but I catch the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
"You wish," she retorts, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
God, I love how she gives as good as she gets.
Most women I've been with either can't keep up or are too intimidated to try.
But Siren?
She's a force of nature, matching me blow for blow.
I can't resist pushing it further.
I lean in again, my voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Somehow, I think if Cobra was single and willing, you'd enjoy both of us taking you. Wouldn't you, my dirty little plaything?"
I pull back slowly, savoring the way her eyes widen.
For a moment, that blunt exterior cracks, and I can see the desire burning underneath.
Yeah, I'm turning her on, and we both know it.
"Fuck you, Shiver," she breathes, but there's no venom in it.
Just heat.
I grin, cocky as ever. "That's the idea, darlin'."
As Zane peels out of the parking lot, tires squealing,
I can't help but think about how different this is from my usual MO.
Normally, I keep things simple—get in, get off, get out.
With Siren, I want to take my time, to explore every inch of her.
To push her limits and see just how far she's willing to go.
The truck lurches as Zane takes a sharp turn, tires screeching.
My arm instinctively wraps around Siren's waist, steadying her.
She shoots me a look, half-annoyed, half-intrigued.
I wink, but my mind's already shifting gears.
"What's goin' on?" I bark at Zane, adrenaline starting to pump.
Something big's happening, and I need to know what we're rolling into.
Zane's eyes flick to the rearview mirror, his face tight with excitement. "Cheyenne and Grim caught Sassy on the edge of town. Grocery store parking lot."
"Sassy?" The name hits me like a sucker punch. "I thought we were here for Sally and Boomer."
Kade twists around from the front seat, grinning like a shark. "We are. But Damon's gonna be real fuckin' happy with this little bonus."
My mind races, connecting the dots.
Sassy—that bitch who dumped her and Doc’s kid, Kash, on the clubhouse doorstep.
Damon's gonna have a field day with this.
"Well, shit," I drawl, leaning back. "Guess Christmas came early for the Prez."
Internally, I'm already plotting.
Sassy ratted us out, got us into this whole mess.
But Sassy?
She's a wildcard.
Could be leverage, could be trouble.
Either way, Damon's gonna want to handle this personally.
I glance at Siren, wondering how much she knows about our charter’s club business.
Her jaw's set, eyes blazing.
There's history there, I can tell.
Makes me curious, makes me want to dig deeper.
"So," Siren says, keeping her voice casual, "anyone want to fill me in on why Sassy's such a big deal in comparison to Sally and Boomer?"
Cobra snorts. "You mean besides being a shit excuse for a mother?"
I raise an eyebrow. "I mean, we know there’s more to it than that. She’s a rat and a no good person too."
Zane suddenly jerks the wheel hard to the right.
The massive dually truck lurches, tires crunching over gravel and snow as we veer off the main road.
My arm instinctively shoots out, bracing Siren against the seat yet again.
"The fuck, Zane?" I growl, but then I see it—tire tracks cutting through the snow, leading away from the road.
Zane's focus is laser-tight as he follows the trail, the truck bouncing and swaying as we go off-road.
We crest a small hill, and I spot our destination—a random park, fenced off and plastered with 'CLOSED FOR CONSTRUCTION' signs.
Zane doesn't hesitate, plowing right through the flimsy barrier.
"Nice," I can't help but grin. "Guess we're not worried about stealth, huh?"
Zane just grunts, maneuvering the truck with surprising skill through the half-finished landscaping.
We roll up next to another truck—must be Grim and Cheyenne's ride.
The engine cuts off, and for a moment, there's just tense silence.
Then Zane's out of the truck like a shot, the others piling out after him.
I take a breath, steeling myself.
Whatever's about to go down, I have a feeling it's gonna be ugly.
I swing out of the truck, boots hitting dirt just in time to see Cheyenne dragging Sassy out of the other vehicle.
She throws her to the ground with enough force to knock the wind out of her.
"Jesus," I mutter, but before I can say more, Cheyenne's got a gun out, leveled right at Sassy's head.
Sassy's on her knees, hands up, terror written all over her face. "Please," she begs, voice cracking. "Please, I'll do anything, just don't?—"
Cheyenne's laugh is cold enough to freeze blood. "Why shouldn't I pull this trigger right now? You're a sorry excuse for a mother, leaving that baby on their doorstep like that."
I feel my jaw clench.
Abandoning a kid is a special kind of fucked up.
But as much as I want to see Sassy pay, a public execution isn't our style.
At least, it didn't used to be.
Zane moves faster than I expect, his hand closing over Cheyenne's gun.
Their eyes lock, a silent conversation passing between them.
After a tense moment, Cheyenne lets out a frustrated sigh and holsters her weapon.
"Fine," she spits. "But this bitch better start talking."
Sassy's still on her knees, trembling. "I-I didn't leave the kid with strangers," she stammers. "I left it with its father. With Doc."
The words hit like a punch to the gut.
It.
The kid.
She doesn’t want to even acknowledge this baby like it’s hers.
I knew Doc was Kash's father, but hearing Sassy say it so casually, like it justifies what she did... it makes my blood boil.
Cheyenne's face contorts with rage. "You think that makes it okay?" she snarls. "You abandoned your baby on a fuckin’ doorstep!"
I watch Cheyenne, trying to piece together why this is hitting her so hard.
Sure, what Sassy did was fucked up, but Cheyenne looks ready to tear her apart with her bare hands.
There's gotta be more to this story.
"Look," I say, trying to keep my voice level. "Kash is better off without you, Sassy. You know that, right? Hell, he's only ever gonna know Mandy as his mom, and that kid lucked out there."
I think about Mandy, how she stepped up for Doc and Kash without hesitation.
"She didn't have to do shit for either of them," I continue. "But now Doc's got an ol' lady who actually gives a fuck. So maybe you did one good thing by fuckin’ off."
Sassy flinches at my words, but I don't feel an ounce of sympathy.
My eyes drift to Siren, and I'm struck by the tension in her jaw, the fire in her eyes.
She's got that look—the one that says she's about two seconds from exploding.
Sure enough, Siren turns to Zane, her voice low and dangerous. "You know there's nothing I can't stand more than a deadbeat mother."
The venom in her words surprises me.
I've seen Siren pissed before, but this... this is different.
It’s personal.
I file that information away, knowing there's a story there I'll need to uncover later.
Zane's eyes lock onto Siren, his expression a mix of understanding and challenge. "Yeah, and why do you think I told your ass to get in the fuckin' truck?"
The tension in the air thickens, and I can practically feel Siren bristle beside me.
Her fists clench at her sides, knuckles turning white.
I resist the urge to reach out and touch her, to offer some kind of comfort.
This isn't the time or place for that shit.
Siren’s voice is low and dangerous. "You want me to handle this? I've dealt with worse than this piece of trash."
I study Siren's face, noticing the way her eyes narrow, the slight tremble in her lower lip.
Zane takes a step closer, his imposing figure casting a shadow over Siren. "I know you can handle it. That's not the point. You're here because I need you focused, not caught up in your own shit."
I watch the exchange, my mind racing.
What the fuck is going on between these two?
There's history here, something unspoken but clearly understood between them.
Sassy whimpers from her spot on the ground, drawing our attention back to the matter at hand.
"Please," she begs, "I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Just don't hurt me."
I snort, unable to hide my contempt. "Bit late for that, sweetheart. You should've thought about consequences before you started running your mouth."
My fingers itch to grab her, to shake the information out of her myself.
But I don’t.
I might get rough with women, but it’s in a way they desire.