5. Smoke
5
SMOKE
“ W ell, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Catfish, the club’s secretary and treasurer, says as I walk into the clubhouse ahead of Atom.
“Brother,” I say, wincing when the expert sniper shakes my hand and then pulls me in for a hug.
“Careful.”
“Shit,” Catfish says, releasing me.
“Sorry. Did you meet Jackal and Shade already?”
I look at the two men sitting at the bar, who tip their heads in absolute synchronicity.
Their patches say they’re Outlaws nomads.
With Shade’s short brown hair, light skin, and wide shoulders and Jackal’s tan skin, black hair, and swimmer’s build, they look like a mis-matched pair.
“Brothers,” I say.
“Heard a lot about you,” Jackal says.
“All of it good, I hope.”
Shade offers me his hand.
“Sorry for your loss.”
I let out a breath.
“Thanks.”
“Grab your drinks, leave your phones and weapons, and get in here,” Butcher says, heading into Church.
“Just in time,” Atom says, stepping behind the bar.
He pours us both a mug of steaming black coffee but adds a generous measure of whiskey.
“Welcome back to the clubhouse.”
I take a sip and immediately think about what I overheard Ember saying to Atom.
The coffee at the clubhouse has the acidity of paint stripper.
She’s not lying. Never really thought about coffee all that much beyond it being the transport vehicle for caffeine.
But the coffee Quinn makes is so much nicer than this shit.
Even the tang of whiskey doesn’t save it any.
“Your old lady was right,” I say.
“This stuff is gross.”
“Don’t tell her that. I feel like I’m fighting a losing battle with her half the time already.”
We step into Church, and the doors are closed behind us.
The room looks a little fuller.
I see one of the prospects is now a brother.
Taco. He’s still got that look of pride and surprise that he’s even in this room at all.
He tips his hat in my direction, and I nod.
“Calling this meeting to order,” Grudge, my vice president says.
While I’ve been gone, he’s shaved his undercut a little higher and expanded his ink up his skull.
Must have fucking hurt and it makes him look even more intimidating than usual.
Hard to believe this is the same guy who likes taking the pillows off his own bed when we ride out for overnight trips.
“Starting off by recognizing Smoke is back. Shitty end to fire season. Sorry for the lost brothers.”
I swallow deeply and nod.
“Thanks, Grudge.”
It’s all I’ve got.
I should probably have more to say.
About how it’s good to be back.
How I’m glad I’m alive.
But the truth is, I’m not.
So, in the absence of any way to sum those feelings up, I stay quiet.
“Right,” Butcher says, “first order of business: How do we keep the pressure on the Zakharovs? Especially Rurik and Lev.”
Atom had called back last night and caught me up on what I missed.
A Bratva unit wanting to take over our territory was bad news.
“Why would we apply pressure?” Catfish asks.
“We delivered some pretty massive casualties.”
Wraith, our sergeant at arms, leans forward and places his elbows on the table.
He got his name for his almost-white hair, paler than pale blue eyes, and the word’s connection to death.
“Here’s the thing: Their goals haven’t changed. They still want a discrete and clear transport route through our territory so they can ship in and out of Denver Airport. I can’t believe they’ll just walk away from it and cede ground to us.”
Thinking of walking, I hope Quinn’s foot is okay.
I feel like such a dick, smashing a fucking plate because that fucking butter dish was sliding all over the place, making it hard to scoop up and spread.
That on its own is bad enough.
But I caused her to bleed after I promised myself that another Moran sister would not get hurt on my watch.
And even if those two things alone didn’t add up to me being a douchebag, I got a boner handling her feet.
Her fucking feet.
Pretty things with clipped toenails and polish in turquoise.
They were soft and smooth with toes ripe for sucking and soles ripe for fucking.
Had a thing for feet my entire life.
Of course, hers are the prettiest I’ve ever seen.
Bet they’d look amazing in a pair of open-toed, heeled sandals.
There’s maybe a foot and a half height difference between us, which means I’d have to put her on a box so I could bend her over and fuck her, standing up, with her naked except for the heels.
I’d tease her and edge her and fuck her until she came so hard.
Then, I’d get her to lie down on her back and dig those heels of hers into my quads while I jerked off.
Maybe get some cum on her shins and watch it slide down over the straps of her shoes onto her feet.
Her skin was so fucking soft and tan and glistening, she must spend time exfoliating and moisturizing.
My cock responds, getting hard beneath the table.
It pushes painfully against my zipper at the very idea of it.
Life is fucking unfair.
“You up to going on that, Smoke?” Butcher asks.
I look up at my president fast. I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting here, daydreaming over Quinn’s feet, when I should have been paying attention and listening in.
“What?”
Atom looks at me carefully, as if studying what the fuck is wrong with me.
“A ride out, to find where Lev Zakharov is staying. With me and Wraith.”
I touch the dressing across my ribs.
“Can’t go out on my bike yet. Too much strain on the burn, but if we’re taking the van or trucks, count me in.”
“These fuckers aren’t playing fair,” Butcher says.
“They’re cowards for going after women and playing mind games. They need knocking back a peg or two. Thought we did it that night when they came for my daughter. But we’re gonna do it head-on. We’re not going to hide. And we’re not going to stoop to their level. We’re gonna remember we’re Iron fucking Outlaws.”
Butcher goes on for a minute or two longer.
Catfish has some admin about plumbing maintenance in our clubhouse bedrooms, and then we’re done.
“What was that about?” Atom asks when we step outside.
“What was what about?”
Atom tips his head in the direction of the room we hold Church in.
“Gapping out like that. It seemed like you were a cross between bored and disinterested. You still back on that hillside?”
Of course, that’s where Atom would go.
And I realize that, for a hot moment, my head was blissfully free of any thoughts of fire and lost friends.
“Something like that,” I say.
I don’t want to admit my thoughts were wholly consumed with Quinn and what I’d like to do with her.
“You know, the club would cover any expenses if you wanted to see a therapist or some shit to help you process what happened.”
“I’ve got cover from work, but I’m gonna quit.”
“Quit therapy?”
I shake my head.
“No, the job.”
I hadn’t even thought about the words until I said them.
But as soon as they’re out in the open, I realize I want them.
I’m going to quit the job before they can fire me, or find me responsible, or pack me off with a whole bunch of newbies for retraining or some shit.
“Smoke jumping or firefighting?” Atom asks.
“Both.” I’m done risking others’ lives, whether it’s in a forest or a burning building.
Atom places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes firmly.
“That feels like a rushed decision, brother. You need to give yourself a little time and space to deal with your injuries and shit. Think it through when your head is a little clearer.”
“My head’s never been clearer. Hey, what happened to Quinn while I was away? I mean, I know the broad strokes, but what are the details?”
If Atom notices my sudden change of subject, he doesn’t say anything.
Okay, maybe there’s the slight raise of an eyebrow, but he keeps his opinion to himself.
“Quinn got visited for the first time the same night as Ember and Margie were.”
“Wraith’s mother-in-law got hit too?”
Atom nods.
“Yeah. The diner. The bar. The bakery. One of the clothing stores. The fuckers mostly chose businesses that were ran by either women or older men, like the Dobsons’ hardware store.”
“Fucking cowards.”
“Not gonna disagree with you there. The first night, I guess it was the same as for Ember. The two men told her what the terms were going to be. How much she owed. And to have the cash ready. Told her she better be ready to pay. The second time, they broke a window at the rear of the store but also had a guy out front.”
“They trapped her in the bakery?”
Atom nods.
“Yeah, she had no way out. That dog of hers was upstairs in the apartment, unable to help. She had the cash ready for them. We told her not to pay, but I think she had the foresight to know if they came to her when she was alone, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself. Thought the money might save her, but they told her next time they’d want more. She told them she didn’t have that kind of cash, so they tied her up and trashed part of the bakery. Told her she better get with the program.”
I think about what Atom is telling me.
“So, both times, they came at night, when she was alone?”
Atom nods.
“Yeah. Like I said. Cowards. Really shook all the women up. Although, Ember got it worse in the end.”
Sometimes the past collides with our present whether we want it to or not.
“It’s worse for Quinn. Out of all of them, it had to affect her long-term the most.”
Wrinkles form on Atom’s brow.
“How do you figure that? Ember’s bar was set on fire. Her business, her source of income, was gone in a heartbeat.”
I nod.
“I know. And it’s fucking awful for Ember. But don’t forget, Quinn was only thirteen when someone broke into her house in the middle of the night and took her sister. I can imagine she was already traumatized by shit happening at night. That nighttime is unsafe. That kind of trauma is going to leave a mark.”
“Fuck,” Atom curses.
“Never thought about it like that. Butcher put someone on her, though. And now she has you.”
I shake my head.
“Don’t want her to have me.”
Atom chuckles.
“From that tone, am I to assume things aren’t going well at Casa Smoke?”
“What do you think? The woman hates me, and she’s suddenly living under my roof.”
“Funny, because I caught a vibe that she doesn’t hate you anymore.”
I glare at my friend for a second.
“You’re seeing things that aren’t there.”
“I can call Ember, tell her to ask Quinn to come stay with us. We got a spare bedroom. It’s not big, but we’ll make it work.”
For all the reasons that might make more sense than her staying at my house, something deep inside me revolts at the idea.
“I’ll figure it out. She has every right to be suspicious of me, of what happened back then. If being at my house for a little while longer makes her feel safe, then she should just stay.”
“Smoke, you’re back,” Isla says, appearing behind the bar.
Her thick blonde hair is up in a high ponytail, and the smile on her face says she did it that way for me.
A long ponytail gives you something to wrap your fist around.
Or in the rare times a little humiliation or punishment is needed, it can also serve as a leash to lead a naughty pet along by.
Unbidden, the thought of Quinn on her knees, naked apart from those sparkling fucking heels I was dreaming about earlier, comes to mind.
She’s wearing a thin collar that matches them.
And my fist is in her hair, pulling it taut, making her crawl ahead of me.
That familiar feeling of my cock pushing against denim is back.
“Can I take care of that for you?” Isla says, sliding her hand down over it and squeezing gently.
My first thought is, She’s not Quinn.
My second thought is, She’s not Quinn .
But I find myself wrapping my hand around her ponytail, like she intended, even as I get annoyed she’s topping from the bottom.
“You want to join us, Atom?” she asks.
Atom shakes his head.
“Only one pussy I want into, and it isn’t yours.” He slaps me on the shoulder.
“Welcome back, brother.”
Out of respect for the brother’s choice to settle with one woman, I wait until Atom has stepped away.
“New ground rules, Isla. One, you leave Atom the fuck alone. In case you forgot, the pussy he wants is Ember’s. She’s the daughter of the president and the old lady of the club’s enforcer, so in any battle between the two of you, you not only lose, but you get thrown out of the club. If you don’t want that to happen, you don’t do that. Understood?”
Isla’s eyes are wide when I’m done.
She doesn’t say anything, but nods.
“Two, if I’m fucking you, I decide who, if anyone, gets to join us. Not you. I don’t cater to you, because I’m not your Dom, and you aren’t my submissive. You’re someone I fuck.”
Isla finds her voice.
“We’re more than that, and you know it. I’ve always been your girl.”
I shake my head.
“I don’t play favorites. Don’t think you’re special. You, Nola, Poppy…you’re all interchangeable.”
“Wow, you left to fight a fire and came back an asshole,” Isla says.
At that, my cock loses interest. “Fuck you.”
“I’m sorry,” she says.
“I was just excited to see you, and you were talking about me so indifferently.”
“That’s because, to me, you’re not important,” I say as I turn on my heel.
“I’m going to my room, and don’t even think about following me.”