Burning Ember (30 page)

Driving back to the clubhouse, I tap my thumb on the steering wheel. I’m jonesing for a cigarette. Quitting this morning may not have been the best decision. Especially if Doll stays prickly and feisty toward me like she was this morning.

That’s if she’s even still there . . .

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I flip it open and reread Taz’s texts.

T: shes pissed. did u no she calls u luce.

T: Wuz up with that

Me: The fuck if I know.

T: just a guess but i don’t think its a complament.

Me: Yeah . . . me either.

Ten minutes later, I pull my truck into the courtyard. Kendra and Blaire are getting out of Kendra’s SUV. The back doors open and all the kids pile out. They take off running to the back of the clubhouse where we have a swing-set, a shed full of toys, and a whole lot of room for them to get crazy while their moms plan the party.

“You’re lookin’ nice, Mav. You work today?” Kendra, Septic’s old lady, asks as she comes up to me, gives me a half-hug and a kiss on the cheek. She has large Spanish features, brown hair, and she’s extra curvy. Just how Septic likes ’em.

“Yeah.” I return her hug.

“Although it looks like you had a rough night,” she adds. She’s fishing for details. Details she knows I won’t give.

Blaire is average height with white-blonde hair and blue eyes. As usual, she’s dressed overly modest and uncomfortable. Five years ago, she was a college girl going through a rebellious stage. She and her friends came around the club looking for a good time. What she got was pregnant, with Bodie’s kid. Bodie claimed her, married her, and two years later they had their second child. But their relationship has never been solid. Blaire doesn’t approve of our lifestyle. Like me, she was raised in a very religious family. Unlike me, she still wants to live that kind of life. She’s been pressuring Bodie for years to split from the club. Only knowing Bodie like I do, it’s not the club he’ll be splitting from when it’s finally time to choose one or the other.

We talk for a bit until a red Mercedes pulls into the lot. Nick. She’s driving and Grandma Pepper, Cap’s mom, is sitting in the passenger seat. Taffy, Cap’s daughter, peels into the lot right behind them in her green Mini Cooper.

I greet everyone and then get the hell out of there. Being caught in a hen-fest is not my idea of a good time. Plus, I need to get inside and make sure everything is as it should be.

Entering the club, I see brothers at the bar, playing pool, chilling at a table, drinking beers, looking like a couple of saints. Not a clubpiece in sight. The place is so clean I doubt the old ladies will recognize it. Not to mention Cap and Edge when they return.

Platters of various baked treats and sandwiches line one half of the bar. Enough to feed an army. The clubhouse even smells fantastic. Like cinnamon and just the thought causes my taste buds to tingle. I’m sure Doll’s responsible and the smell tempts me to seek her out.

Taz steps into my path. His jaw is tight, his eyes are black and throwing lethal intent, and he’s biting down on the toothpick in his mouth. He’s also flexing his muscles like he’s about to enter the ring and go a few rounds with somebody.

Fear slithers down my spine.
Oh fuck, she gave him the slip.
“Where is she?” I grind my molars and look down and into the hallway.

“Had to pull Lo out of Bodie’s bed not two goddamn minutes ago. Fucker’s trying to get caught.”

Fuck. A relieved breath whooshes out of me. He damn near gave me a fucking heart attack. “I’ll talk to him.” Taz gives me a curt nod but doesn’t looked pleased in the slightest.

Griz slaps me on the back. “The girls are all locked in the room. No one’s gettin’ in or out.”

The implications of what he said sinks in. “You locked Doll up?” I take one step toward the hallway.

Griz coughs and speaks up behind me. “Doll?”

My jaw tightens. “Pumpkin.”

“Oh . . . well . . . no. Didn’t see the need to. She’s learned her lesson about breakin’ the rules last night whether she broke them or not. And she’s not officially a clubpiece
yet.
Not jumpin’ from bed to bed
yet
, so the old ladies should have no beef with her,
yet
.”

My blood heats. I don’t know which part of his comment makes me want to punch him in his smug face more.

He holds his hands up as I glare at him. “Just tellin’ it how it is, brotha.”

“Yeah . . . well . . . don’t for once.”

Upstairs, I stall at Dozer’s door. It’s deathly silent behind it. I raise my hand to knock, but falter before my knuckles hit the wood. She could be sleeping. In fact, with all that happened last night and everything she’s done to prepare for the party, I wouldn’t doubt if she was.

At least that’s what I tell myself so I don’t have to man up and face her right now. So I don’t have to come to terms with what I’ve done and pay the price for it, which by her reaction this morning is exactly what she’s going to make me do.

In my room, I change back into my regular clothes and head back downstairs.

“I see Donut’s still alive,” Nick teases as we watch the kids play in the backyard. Nick’s a Barbie lookalike, tall, with blondish-gray hair and gray-blue eyes. She’s slim and sexy for an older woman. But you can tell the life’s taken its toll on her by the hard lines around her eyes and mouth.

“Were you really worried?” I ask.

“Considering the last time he visited the clubhouse, he came home drunker than a preacher’s son on Sunday, yeah.”

“That wasn’t me. That was every bit your old man.”

She laughs, “True. God, bless that bastard.” Then she spares me a glance and asks, “So what happened to you? You have a run-in with a Mack truck?”

I snort. “More like a bulldozer.”

She raises an eyebrow as she quickly looks up at me. “Ethan did that to you? And you’re not gonna tell me why, are you?”

“Nope.”

She eyes me for a minute. “I’ve been hearin’ a lot of things about this new clubpiece. Does it have anything to do with her?”

I watch the kids and let the question hang out there.

Nick knows me well enough to know if I don’t want to talk about it, she’s not getting anything out of me. She sighs and changes the subject. But not to a better one. “You look tired. Too many women keepin’ you up at night now that you’re sittin’ at the head of the table?”

“No more than usual.” I rub my hand over my head. My turn. “How’s Cap?”

She snorts at my subtlety. “Same. We just came from there. We’ll wait until Edge has a chance to see him, then the doctors will do what they can. He’s either gonna pull through or . . . take his final ride. I’ve done all I can do for him.”

I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her into my side. “I know you have. You’ve done good. He’s tough, Nick. He’ll pull through.”

She pats my chest and pulls away. “Yeah? He fuckin’ better. Then I’m gonna shoot his ass for puttin’ me through this.”

The crazy thing is . . . she really means that. If Cap makes it, he’s gonna have hell to pay for cheating and almost dying on her. I saw how scared she was at the hospital when they brought him in. I saw how much it stung when the cops told her he wasn’t alone, and who the woman with him was. Becca wasn’t just a clubpiece. She’s was Cap’s side piece. His girlfriend. I think at that point, Nick wanted to turn her back on him, let Cap lay in the bed he’d made. But she didn’t. Couldn’t.

Maybe it was for Taffy and Dozer. Or us. Cap’s our father in a way. At least, he is to a lot of the guys, as well as our brother. And that makes Nick the queen of this band of misfits. Together we’re whole.

Nick might not be the nicest woman in the world, but I respect the shit out of her for supporting Cap and the club for all these years. I respect her even more now for putting her hurt aside and giving Cap the best care she can, and giving him a chance to live. One he probably doesn’t deserve.

“Who do I thank for orderin’ the food?” she asks.

The back door shuts and we turn. Lil’ Bird walks toward us, her usually confident swagger missing. “Sorry I’m late. One of our bartenders no showed—”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were comin’. No worries. You weren’t missed,” Nick interrupts her. It sounds both bitchy and casual. Exactly as it was meant to sound.

Lil’ pauses and her eyes dart to mine. Her face flushes with color, something I’ve never seen happen to her before.

Looks like Nick’s found herself a new punching bag.
Fuck. Not good.

Lil’ has never had a problem putting a bitch in her place. But this is different. To get accepted by the old ladies, she needs Nick’s vote of approval. And I don’t doubt Lil’ Bird’s getting an extra dose of bitch from Nick because she’s been with Cap, and most of the other brothers.

“Pumpkin,” I say to distract Nick. “That’s who cleaned and made the treats.”

“Made them? The new house mouse?”

Lil’ wrings her hands. “Yes. S-She’s a-a friend of mine. I’ve been wantin’ her to meet Bethany. Is she here?” Lil’ looks around and then frowns. “Bethany’s been looking for a new sitter for Medda, and Pumpkin’s good with kids. She’s a great cook too. She taught me how to make a few quick dinners—”

“Lil’. God, girl. Take a breath,” Nick chastises her.

“Sorry,” Lil’ mutters. A defeated look flashes over her features. She wanders away and finds Kendra.

“Nick,” I warn under my breath.

“What?” she asks innocently.

“How long you gonna torture her?”

She shrugs. “Just a little while longer.” She pops her chin toward the hallway. “So this girl . . . Pumpkin . . . I hear Dozer’s pretty fond of her. Why don’t you go get her? I’d like to meet her.”

A heavy feeling hits the bottom of my stomach. “Nah, Nick, not a good idea.”

“Nonsense. I’d like to meet the girl who’s responsible for all this.” She gestures toward the food. “Looks like we might need her help plannin’ the party is all.”

“Nick.”

“What? We’re not gonna scratch her eyes out. Especially, since she’s hands off, right? So no reason we can’t all be civil. Plus maybe before you guys ruin her, we can recruit her over to our side.”

I pull in a deep breath. “You’ll behave?”

She laughs. “We’ll behave.”

This could go two ways. Bad. Or very, very bad. Pumpkin is guaranteed to be the boys’ new favorite toy if she becomes a clubpiece. Not that she will, because, after all, we have a deal. But the old ladies don’t know that. And seeing what their men are looking at day in and day out while they’re here and not at home, is only going to incite more fear and jealously in them. More than they already deal with on a daily basis. This is the Old Lady drama I wanted to avoid today.

But if I know Nick like I do, she’s not going to take no for an answer.

I think about Nick talkin’ to Doll the way she just did to Lil’ and my body hardens. Protectiveness surges through me. If Nick senses Doll’s weak, she’ll try to break her. Doll already wants to leave. The last thing she needs is someone else treating her like shit, putting her down, and telling her she doesn’t belong here.

I’ve done enough of that already.

We can only see the world and the people in it more clearly, when we let our past and prejudices fall away.

MAVERICK

As I near Dozer’s door, I hear something that makes my footsteps falter and a heavy feeling unfurl in my stomach. The door’s slightly ajar. I edge it open as I enter the room, careful not to make a sound.

Doll’s standing against the far wall. Her hand pressed to the windowpane as she peers out. I take silent steps until I have a better view of her profile.

The sunshine coming through the window highlights her sandy freckles, brightens her blue-green eyes, which are wide with excitement and makes her red hair look like a waterfall of fire over her shoulders. Her rosy, pink lips are parted and every so often, the sound that drew me in here escapes from them. It’s a breathy laugh, warm, genuine and it’s accompanied by a small smile.

Witnessing both sends a trickle of warmth through my chest.

She’s as colorful as a rainbow in spring, and seeing her like this makes me feel like I’ve been stuck in a long, cold, hard winter for too long.

A thought strikes me . . .
This is what she enjoys? What makes her laugh? Kids playing?
So much so, that she’s pressed against the window, wishing she were outside with them. Not the act of a junkie. Or a girl simply here for a good time. Or even someone who’s only looking out for herself.