Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
The text from Lyric said: Crow knows I was at your place this morning. I told him you had a hair emergency and asked for my help.
What the fuck?
You tell him you were here? Rage texted back.
NO!
Then how the hell did he know?
Hard to sneak around in this damn town, came her answer.
Wasn’t that the fucking truth? He believe you?
Don’t know.
Crow had a goddamn sixth sense about everything. He could see shit others couldn’t. It wouldn’t take much for him to put two and two together.
Lyric’s father was so damn laid back he normally got along with everyone. Unless you fucked with him or what belonged to him, including his ol’ lady and his kids.
And Rage had fucked his daughter only a few hours ago.
His virgin daughter.
Even over the DJ’s music, he heard Shimmer call out, “Hey, Crow! Are you here looking for me?”
Rage glanced over at the dancer and his jaw automatically clenched. Since she was also a sweet butt, Shimmer knew that Crow would never fuck around on his wife Jazz. So, of course, he wasn’t looking for her.
The OGs were insanely loyal to their women—unlike in some other MCs—and they expected the same from Rage’s generation.
Unfortunately, the DAMC president ignored that memo four years ago.
As Crow approached, Rage hid his phone under the bar top and quickly texted Lyric: He’s here.
He muted his phone in case Lyric began to panic text, then lifted it as if he was about to take a picture of Lyric’s father. “Damn, brother, need to take a shot of this. Never saw you in here before.”
“Never had a reason to be in here before,” Crow answered without breaking stride.
Rage raised his eyebrows. “Now you do?”
“Just checkin’ on things.”
Of course, those things had to do with why Lyric was at his apartment early this morning.
Crow stopped on the other side of the bar and stared at Rage’s hair.
“Problem?” Rage frowned as he continued to pretend he had no idea why his club brother was standing in front of him.
The older biker shook his head. “Lyric said you asked for help with your hair.”
Rage ran his hand over the once again tight, neat braids. “Yeah. They were a clusterfuck. She was a lifesaver.”
Crow’s gaze sliced over to Shimmer who was now trying to convince a customer to go in the back for a private lap dance. “Thought Shimmer was one you let work on your hair.”
Was that a “gotcha” question? Had to be since Crow already knew the answer. “Yeah.”
Crow locked eyes with him when he asked very calmly, “Then why did Lyric have to come to your apartment at the crack of fuckin’ dawn to fix your hair? ‘Specially when this club don’t open ’til eleven.”
Shit. What reason did Lyric tell him? He wished they’d had more time to get their stories straight. “Also needed to reschedule the ink I’m gettin’ in honor of my father.” He pointed to the side of his shaved head. “Gettin’ a hawk right there.”
“Sure Hawk’s gonna ‘preciate that gesture. But could’ve been rescheduled with a call or text.”
Even though the man before him was one of the oldest living DAMC members, he was still sharp as fuck. “Killed two birds with one stone.”
Rage knew he was fighting a losing battle. Crow was a hell of a lot smarter than him.
“Know my baby girl and you are close—”
“She ain’t a girl.” Or a baby. Her father treating her like one pissed Rage the fuck off.
What he saw naked in his bed this morning was far, far, far from a girl.
“Don’t need you takin’ advantage of that closeness.”
That accusation was a kick in the fucking nuts.
Rage narrowed his eyes on the man across the bar, trying to beat back the red haze creeping into his vision. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
“Know, despite her age, she ain’t got a lotta experience.”
“How would you know that? Know for a fuckin’ fact the club sisters hide their datin’ life from their fathers. For this very fuckin’ reason.” He jerked his chin at Crow. “She’s an adult. Don’t gotta be her guard dog.”
Crow leaned in, lowered his voice, and said slowly, “Gonna protect my baby girl to the day I’m fuckin’ dead and buried.”
Rage straightened his spine, pulled his shoulders back, and tried like fuck not to take what Crow said personally. But since the OG said it to Rage’s face, it was difficult not to. “Like you said, Lyric and I have always been close. Why the fuck would I wanna hurt her?”
“Too much like your uncle. She don’t need that bull in a china shop shit in her life.
Want her to have a life fulla love and happiness, not one where she’s gotta worry about you goin’ on a damn rampage, then goin’ to prison ‘cause you take matters into your own fuckin’ hands like you tend to do when no one else knows. ”
Did the OG somehow know that he took out those Twisted Souls motherfuckers? No fucking way he could. But the rest of what he said…
They had sex once. It wasn’t like he was about to claim Lyric at the table. He had no plans for her to wear his cut or be his ol’ lady.
It wasn’t because of Lyric, but because of him.
“No shit,” Rage responded in a carefully controlled tone. “Want the same for her as you.”
“Yeah? Then why’d she hafta lie about Shimmer?”
Holy fuck. “What ‘bout Shimmer?”
“Guess you two didn’t have time to get your fuckin’ stories straight. She said none of the dancers who do your hair were workin’ today. Show up here and there’s Shimmer.”
“Didn’t know she was comin’ in. Turns out, she swapped a shift with Opal.” Man, that lie slipped too easily off his tongue. The only problem was, Crow was a walking, talking lie detector.
That had to be the reason Crow showed up at Heaven’s Angels after talking to his daughter. He suspected she lied and decided to test Rage next to confirm it.
“Yeah?” Crow’s dark gaze sliced to the stripper still working that customer. And failing. “Should I ask her?”
Fuck. Of course Shimmer would never lie to Crow. Not because Crow would be able to tell, but because she was a sweet butt. If a sweet butt got caught trying to pull bullshit over on one of the brothers, her ass would be out on the street.
“You’d believe a club girl over me?” The club girl label was doing double duty in this instance.
“Think I can’t tell you’re tryin’ to pull some bullshit over on me?”
“Got no reason to do that.”
Crow stared at him for way too fucking long.
Could he see Rage’s pulse racing along his throat? His heart pounding against his chest? His brain spinning like a fucking Tilt-A-Whirl at a carnival?
Crow sucked his teeth, then a few seconds later said, “Gonna take your word for it. Hope your word’s as good as your pop’s.”
Fuck. The man knew how to cut with his words.
With that, Rage watched Lyric’s father spin on his boot heel and stride back out.
Lyric was beat. Her work day had been long and busy. Of course, the late start hadn’t helped. Luckily, she managed to get caught up with her appointments since her clients considered her work worth the wait.
Only, now she was closing the shop two hours later than normal.
She left out the back and the steel door automatically locked behind her. While setting the alarm on the phone app, she heard a noise and looked up.
Her heart leapt into her throat at the same time a squeak escaped her.
“Holy shit!” She slapped hand to her chest. “You scared the shit out of me! What are you doing here?”
Ash’s long, denim-covered legs straddled his sled, which was parked right next to her vehicle.
He jerked his chin at her. “Let’s go.”
Her eyebrows stitched together. “Where?” What was this about?
“For a ride.”
She walked over to him, pointing at her car since her Harley was still at the body shop getting repaired from the crash. “I have my own ride.”
His lips thinned out. “Yeah, and that ain’t the fuckin’ point.” He jerked his head toward the back of his Harley. “Get on.”
“Where are we going?”
“Just said. A ride.”
She rolled her eyes. Men! “People might see us.”
“Don’t fuckin’ care. Bein’ a backpack don’t mean shit. Anyone got anythin’ to say ‘bout it, they can say it to my fuckin’ face.”
Lyric was quite sure most people wouldn’t say shit to Ashton’s face. He was the epitome of “fuck around and find out.”
“But you know how everyone talks. Look what happened this morning.”
“Fuck it. Let ‘em.”
Uh oh. He was aggravated about something. Maybe it was the run-in with her father earlier.
In truth, it wasn’t like she’d never rode with Ash before. She had. Along with some of the other club brothers she’d grown up with. She’d also ridden plenty of times on the back of both her father and brother’s sleds, too.
All her club brothers or sisters rode as backpacks the minute they were big enough to not fall off. It was in their blood. Because of that, Lyric always loved riding and was thrilled when Vi proposed their all-women’s MC.
While most of the guys in the club were against the women forming the Angels of Fury—including Ash—once her father heard about it, he not only went out and bought her a used Sportster XL883, perfect for her size, but taught her how to handle it.
Unlike some bikers, Crow had always been a proponent for women’s empowerment.
“Ash, after this morning with my father…” She scratched her forehead and shook her head. “What happened with that, anyway?”
“He made his feelin’s known about me fuckin’ you over.”
So Crow was concerned about him fucking her over, but not about any actual fucking. Interesting. “He knows you’d never do that.”
“Yeah right, if he wasn’t your father, but he is. The fuck if he’ll look at shit the same when it comes to you as compared to any of your club sisters.”
“Do you think he knows what…we…” She flapped her hand around as heat burned her cheeks.
“Dunno. More I think about it, the more I don’t give a fuck. ‘Specially after the way he confronted me at Heaven’s Angels.”
Oh shit! She really didn’t need tension between Ashton and her father. “He wasn’t a dick, was he?”
“Your pop ain’t ever a dick, but he knows how to make a fuckin’ point. It was pretty fuckin’ sharp.”
“And that point was not to hurt me?” She hissed out a breath, then groaned. “Sounds like he might know what we did.” To her, that was nerve-racking.
“‘Less you told him, he’s just guessin’.”
“My father has a crazy instinct when it comes to the truth.”
A muscle jumped in his cheek. “No fuckin’ shit.”
“This is why I don’t think it’s smart for me to go for a ride with you. Maybe once I get my bike back from Badger we can ride together, but until—”
His tight jaw shifted sharply. “Baby, get the fuck on my sled. We can take the back roads outta town.” He extended his big hand, waiting for her to take it.
Lyric was starting to believe Ash was aware that whenever he called her “baby,” she became a gooey mess inside and would probably do anything he asked.
Okay, maybe not anything. Anything within reason.
And going on a run with someone she trusted her whole life would be considered reasonable.
If Crow wasn’t currently suspicious of them.
He was.
It was not a good idea. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“Baby, nobody’s gonna blink a fuckin’ eye if they see us. Your parents are prolly already in bed, watchin’ some kinda serial killer documentary.”
A snort shot from Lyric’s nose because that was probably true. Her mother loved true crime shows and got her father addicted to them.
She slapped a hand to her stomach when it took the opportunity to rumble loudly.
“Didn’t fuckin’ take the time to eat, did you?” he growled.
No, she had skipped dinner to catch up with her appointments. “It’s fine. I’ll grab something—”
“Get on. Gettin’ you some fuckin’ food.”
“Ashton.”
“Baby, last time I’m sayin’ it. Get. On. My. Fuckin’. Sled.”
If he thought he could intimidate her, he was wrong. “I’m already late getting home.”
“You’re twenty-four-years old. Don’t got a curfew.”
“But his spidey senses are tingling. He’ll be watching me closer than ever.”
“Think he’ll be waitin’ up for you?”
It was possible.
She sighed. She was an adult and needed to be treated as one. “I really need to move out. Do you want to rent out your second bedroom?” She was only half-kidding. But if he said yes, she’d jump on it.
Then she could jump on him.
She had sex one time and now look at her: she already wanted to jump Ash’s bones again.
“Want me to die?”
She chuckled nervously. The threat of death could squash any ideas of intimacy.
“Look. Talk to Bri. She got a second bedroom that’s empty.”
Now why didn’t she think of that? “Damn, Ash, that’s a good idea.”
“Got a few functionin’ brain cells left outta the dozen I started with.”
When Lyric laughed, Ash stared at her with his nostrils flared.
“Do you think she’d care about sharing her apartment?”
“Ain’t her apartment, it’s the club’s. She don’t pay shit for it. Not sure she got a say.”
“I guess I can ask her.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He shook his head, making her aware of how good his braids looked, and the empty space on the side of his head reminded her she still needed to fill it. “Gonna handle it.”
Huh? Her brow dropped low. “Who’s going to handle it?”
“Me.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Right. Don’t, but gonna. Right now, gonna go get food in your gut.”
Again, tonight might not be the best night to be seen together. “Ash.”
“Baby.”
She threw her hands up. “Why are you so damn stubborn?”
His eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Why the fuck are you?”
She changed tactics. “It’s after ten. There’s probably no place open.”
“Know a place.”
Of course he did.
He jerked his chin up. “Let’s go.”
“I’ll follow you.”
“Nope.”
“Ash.”
“Ain’t doin’ this fuckin’ dance again, woman. Don’t make me physically put you on this fuckin’ sled.”
She had no doubt he’d do it, too. With a loud, drawn-out sigh, she planted a hand on his shoulder and climbed on behind him.
“Hang on tight,” he ordered, and started his Harley.
Like she needed that warning. Plus, it was the perfect excuse to get up close and personal with him.
She slid forward until she was sandwiched against him and her crotch was pinned against his ass. Pressing her face against his cut, she hid her smile and tightly wrapped her arms around his waist, spreading her fingers along his gut.
With a twist to the throttle, they shot off through the dark alley and out of Shadow Valley.