Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
The clubhouse pulsed with the jukebox and an energy that came from the freedom of men who didn’t give a fuck about societal expectations. I loved the summertime scene—loud music, smoke in the air, and the sweet scent of perfume from the women hoping to nab a property patch.
Rev handed me a cold beer and wiped the condensation on his jeans.
“Thanks, prospect,” I said.
“No problem. That sweetbutt’s been eyeing you all night,” he said, gesturing to the tall woman with fire-engine red hair at the bar.
“That’s Leah’s friend, Vega. The chick’s a stage-five clinger. She’s fun, though. You should hit her up.”
“Nah, I’ll pass. I have my eye on someone else,” he said wistfully.
I raised a brow, but he didn’t elaborate.
“How’s prospecting going?” I asked. I’d vouched for Rev. He’d make a good Maverick.
“Thane’s a tough motherfucker to please. Any advice?”
I smirked, remembering my days as a prospect.
Thane had been the sergeant at arms then, and Maxwell Morris, Merrick’s old man, had been president.
It’d been, fuck, a decade since, but I still remembered what it was like.
People thought Thane was tough, but Maxwell was brutal. And being a prospect was never easy.
“Listen more, explain less,” I suggested. “No one gives a shit about your excuses. If you’re called out for something, just do better next time. Don’t get butthurt. Check your ego and let your actions speak for you.”
Rev nodded and started to ask another question, but Thane whistled sharply and jerked his head at him.
“Duty calls,” Rev drawled.
I chuckled, and my gaze slid past him to where Merci stood with Kenna, Eva, and Rhetta.
Merci’s eyes were tired, probably from another long shift, but her bright laughter cut through the noise.
She tossed her dark hair over her shoulder, and fuck if that didn’t do something to me.
She made every other woman in this place fade into the background.
“You’re staring,” Fuse said as he slid into the barstool beside me.
I tore my eyes from Merci. “At what?”
“Who.”
I gave him a flat look. “Who?”
“You know who. You’re treading in dangerous waters, my friend.”
I leaned back, picking at the label on my beer nonchalantly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Fuse narrowed his eyes. “You look at her like she’s the only woman in this place.”
“Fuck off. Merci and I are just friends.”
“Who said anything about Merci?” Fuse said with a sly grin.
I groaned. I’d shown my hand, even though I’d clearly been doing a shit job of hiding it in the first place.
“Maybe Merrick would bend the code for you. Being his best friend and all.” Fuse’s tone was smooth with a hidden, taunting edge.
We both knew damn well Merrick didn’t bend rules. He’d break me instead.
A pretty woman with purple hair approached.
Her perfume hit before she did—an overly sweet stench that lingered in your sheets long after she left.
Her hips swayed with the confidence of a woman who knew how to use her body.
She slid onto my lap without asking, nails tracing the outline of my stubbled jaw.
“Hey there,” she purred.
Usually, a woman like her would be the start of a memorable night. But her perfume choked the air around me, and I couldn’t get the sound of Merci’s laugh out of my head.
“Not interested,” I said flatly and pushed her gently off my lap. “Try Bayou.”
Her lips parted in surprise. “You sure?”
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
She pouted but moved toward Bayou, who grinned like I’d just handed him a winning lottery ticket.
Fuse arched a brow. “Never seen you say no to a sure thing.”
I took a slow pull from my beer. Merci’s laughter drifted over again, cutting straight through the noise and smoke.
“I’m not in the mood,” I muttered. “I’m going upstairs. Chaos is better company anyway.”
Fuse chuckled. “Right. The dog’s better company. That’s how I know you got it bad.”
I didn’t respond. The truth clawed in my chest. There was one woman in this bar I could see, and she was the only one I could never have.
As I circled the bar to the stairway, a hand grabbed my shoulder.
“Play darts with me,” Merci said, smiling widely.
Fucking hell. My pulse hitched, and for a second I forgot how to breathe. Up close, I caught the faint scent of vanilla and magnolia, a soft and sweet smell that didn’t fit anywhere near the smoky air of the clubhouse.
“I’m good,” I grunted, stepping back out of her reach. “Going to bed.”
Her smile faltered. “Oh. OK.”
Her disappointment hit me like a punch to the gut.
A strand of hair fell in front of her eyes.
I wanted to reach out to tuck it behind her ear, maybe let my fingers trail down her cheek.
Down to her—no. I shoved my hands into my pockets, balling them into fists to keep from crossing that invisible line.
“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked, her voice a pitch higher than it’d been a moment before.
I nodded as I walked away. Every step felt like I was moving in the wrong damn direction.
That night, sleep didn’t come easily. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her smile and heard her laugh. I thought about how I might be willing to let everything go to hell just to see what a few minutes in heaven with her might be like.
The next morning, I joined Everest and Merrick for coffee on the back deck of the house that sat on the edge of the clubhouse property.
Merci chattered in the kitchen as Kenna cooked up breakfast. I envied Merrick. Her eggs were buttery gold, and she fried her bacon with a crispy glaze that cracked when you bit it, tasting of smoke, sugar, and sin.
Merci brushed past Merrick as he went inside to refill his mug. She set down a plate piled with cinnamon rolls before us. “I made these from scratch. And, by scratch, I mean I popped open the Pillsbury tube and put them in the oven by myself. You’re welcome.”
Everest grinned at her. “You keep feeding me like this every morning, I’m going to marry you.”
She snorted. “You couldn’t handle me.”
I didn’t realize I was glaring until Everest’s smirk faltered. He looked at me, then back at her, and cleared his throat.
From within the kitchen, Kenna’s laugh rang out, followed by the unmistakable sound of Merrick’s voice, low and teasing.
Merci groaned and dropped her head into her hands. “I hate living here. They’re like horny teenagers. I’d better go save breakfast now that he’s in there distracting her.”
As soon as she was gone, Everest whistled low. “So, why aren’t you with Merci?”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” I snapped, setting my mug down hard. “Merrick’ll hear you.”
Everest grinned. “Dude, you’re clearly into her.”
“Doesn’t matter. I can’t.”
“You’re afraid of Merrick?”
“He’s my best friend. And she’s off-limits. It’s against our code.”
Everest leaned back, crossing his arms. “Because she’s his sister? That’s ridiculous. You’re both adults. Kenna dated some of my friends. If they weren’t assholes, I didn’t care.”
“Think of Merci like Maverick royalty,” I muttered. “Her dad was a founding member. A president. She grew up here.”
“So she’s the princess, and you’re the peasant who can’t touch her? Come on. Seriously?”
“I’ve known her since she was, like, fourteen.”
“Not fourteen anymore,” Everest said, staring through the screen door appreciatively as Merci swatted Merrick with a spatula, chasing him away from Kenna.
“You don’t get it.” I rubbed my jaw, looking toward the stairs Merci disappeared up.
“Sisters and daughters are off fucking limits. For good reason. When shit goes sideways—and it always does—it tears the club apart. You can’t watch each other’s backs when your brother wants to slit your throat because you broke up with his sister the night before. ”
Everest nodded slowly. “Listen, I’m not saying I’m happy when some douchebag breaks one of my sisters’ hearts.
But Kenna and Kendall are grown-ass adult women, and I learned a long time ago that their love lives are none of my business.
Do you really think Merrick would be that upset that someone he trusts wanted to be with his sister? ”
“It’s the principle,” I argued.
“It’s bullshit, and you know it.” Everest crossed his arms. “If I’ve learned anything about Merrick, it’s that he would never stifle someone’s decisions. If he were that type of guy, he’d never survive Kenna.”
* * *
I dragged ass into the clubhouse the next night after working all day in the Texas heat as security at an outdoor concert, keeping drunk chicks in white cowboy boots away from the lead singer. I sat at the bar, nursing a beer, while Leah complained about another missing bottle of liquor.
“I’m going to figure out how to rig an electric fence back here,” Leah said to no one in particular. “Or maybe I’ll pour cheap whiskey into an empty bottle of Woodford as a decoy.”
Reaper typed away on his iPad as he reviewed a set of blueprints on the bar. He glanced up and smirked. “Thane would know. If you gave him cheap whiskey, he’d dock your pay.”
She ran her fingers through her hot-pink hair. “Thane might be president, but Jack’s the treasurer. He signs my paychecks.”
“Nepotism at its best,” I commented.
Rev approached and rapped his fist on the bar. “Anyone know who the fuck Jonah is? We’ve got some girl insisting that there’s a Jonah here.”
“There’s no club brother named Jonah,” Leah said, wiping the bar with a towel.
I froze, mid-sip. “Fuck,” I muttered. “My name’s Jonah.”
Leah's brows shot up. “Your real name’s Jonah?”
I huffed a laugh. “You didn’t think my real name was Hatchet, did you?”
She grinned. “Yeah, I kind of did. It fits.”
I glanced at Rev. “Did she give you a name?”
“Jessa.”
I scrubbed my beard. The name didn’t ring a bell. “What’d she look like?”
“Young. Like really young. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Kind of looks like you, now that I think about it.”
“Maybe you have a kid,” Leah threw out.