Chapter Thirteen - Chapter Twelve
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Chapter Twelve
MY BIKE RUMBLED to a stop in front of the clubhouse, the familiar roar of the engine echoing through the night. The evening at Twisted Heat had felt long and empty without Madeline working. It was crazy how much I missed her, even though we’d spent all afternoon together.
I worried I had blown it with her after failing to answer the exact same question I had thrown at her. Madeline had been open about everything that had happened to her and me?
Hell, I immediately went to a dark place, unable to open up about the effect Kezia’s death had on me. But Madeline, being the warm person she was, let me avoid answering and not pressuring me.
As I dismounted, I scanned the lot, taking in the sight of new bikes gleaming under the lights. Chrome and custom paint jobs flashed, reflecting the brotherhood and competition among us to have the flashiest motorcycle running. Members from other chapters were arriving for Jonesy’s wedding on Saturday and the after party celebrating both Jonesy and Midnight.
Inside, the clubhouse was alive with the sounds of the extra club chapters, their chatter competing with the pounding beat of rock music. The men talking and reminiscing as they looked at the walls adorned with club memorabilia—photographs of past rides, framed patches from allied chapters, and trophies from bike shows and races.
Sleep could wait.
With every step I took with Madeline, the fear of Kezia showing back up haunted me, making sleep scarce. I plopped down at a table with Bolt, Devil, and Mystic from the South Carolina chapter.
“Long time no see,” Devil greeted me, his voice smooth and cultured, it just didn’t fit him or this world. Bolt gave a nod, his eyes twinkling with mischief as always. Mystic, as usual, just nodded his head, his words few. Built like a tank, with scars from burns and those mismatched eyes—one gold, one blue—he was intimidating as hell. Some called him ugly but never to his face, none of them brave enough.
“Haven’t been up for a run in months,” I replied, signaling for a beer from the prospect behind the bar. “So, what’s new down your way?”
“Nothing much... yet ... but trouble is in the air,” Devil said cryptically before breaking into a grin. “But the next few days are for celebrating.”
“And you can thank me for some of that,” Bolt smirked, leaning back in his chair. “I led Midnight to his ‘fated mate’ that night.”
“I could be your fated mate,” Bunny purred in his ear as she passed by, her hips swaying seductively.
“Fated, no. Temporary, sure,” Bolt replied, standing up and putting his arm around Bunny. “I’ll be back.”
Devil checked his watch. “Fifteen minutes tops,” he heckled Bolt. “You can hit and quit faster than any man I know.” Laughter erupted around the table as Bolt flipped him off, disappearing around the corner with Bunny.
“You just get in?” I asked, taking a swig of my beer.
“About three hours ago,” Devil replied. “Talked to Patch and Player for a bit and figured we’d unwind before turning in.”
“Just you three?”
“Yeah, didn’t want to leave the clubhouse unmanned. Not the time,” he replied, taking a sip of his beer. “We’re rolling out Sunday morning.”
“Hey guys,” Tracy said, leaning over the table, showcasing her assets. Her low-cut top left little to the imagination. “How about some company?”
Mystic stood up and walked away without a word. Typical of him, always closed off. “You should know me by now,” Devil told her with a frown. Tracy should have known better; neither of them played around, at least not that I’ve ever seen. I wasn’t around their clubhouse enough to know more.
“Things change,” she shrugged, her eyes lingering on me, her words meant for me. “It never hurts to check.”
“Nothing has changed,” I said, looking away, wondering what her angle was. This wasn’t the Tracy I knew, being so pushy. I pushed myself up and said, “I’m heading to bed. See you tomorrow, Devil.”
He stood as well. “Might as well turn in myself,” he said, walking with me, leaving Tracy watching our backs. “You’ve fallen, haven’t you?” he asked, reading the room.
“I have,” I smiled, thinking of Madeline. “Damn beautiful she is.”
“Must be something in the water here,” he chuckled, opening his door. “I’ll make sure not to drink it.”
“You already have,” I joked as the door clicked shut. Back in my room, the unease set in again, the quiet deafening. I stripped off my clothes and got into bed, grabbing the TV remote and turning it on. I put on the weather channel for background noise and lay back, my arms behind my head, thinking about today.
I had never enjoyed spending time with a woman like this—just hanging out, talking. I couldn’t understand for the life of me how she got conned by Asher Collins. That guy was a bully, full of himself, and thought he was the shit all through high school. His dad being the city’s prosecutor made him untouchable, giving him courage he didn’t deserve.
Madeline could have had her pick of guys, and she did date a few. Some had run-ins with slashed tires and other petty crap. I might not have made her mine, but I was jealous of those who tried. After Kezia died, I went to a dark place and lost sight of Madeline.
Finally, my eyes grew heavy. With thoughts of Madeline and the low hum of the TV, I drifted off to sleep.