When you run at night, it's still humid and you have all day to think about your stupid decisions. To talk yourself out of the run and remind your brain how awful exercise is. That means by the time I've taken the first step off the front porch I'm already miserable. Night runs are the worst.Especially when I had such an amazing day. After being in Pelican Bay for two months, I feel as if I'm settling in. And it's all thanks to Crispin. If not for him I never would have met the ladies who work at the bakery. I wouldn't spend my entire day set up in the shop gossiping about Tabitha's upcoming wedding or learning words of wisdom from Pearl as she sips away at her herbal tea and munches on a chocolate cupcake. Her husband picked her up around noon before the lunch rush and then I got behind the counter and helped clean up, carrying cups and plates. I wiped down tables and swept the floor. It was fun to get out of the house and see other people, even for my self-declared hermit lifestyl
"Hey!" I scream, pounding my fist against the metal and making a ruckus. "Let me out!"The van picks up its pace and I struggle to stay up on my knees without being tossed around, even though I hit a wall each time we take a corner. My stomach rolls from being in the back of the empty van with nothing here except a roll of carpeting, the green indoor/outdoor stuff you use on porches and patios. I see no tools or anything to help me escape. They haven't even left me a gun from what I can tell as I search around in the dark, my hands coming back empty.The van stops much too soon as I haven't come up with an escape plan by the time they open the door again. My first thought to run is waylaid when Tank points a gun through the open door. If he was a savior, it would be a wonderful scene, the darkness broken through with the opening and the light highlighting his face with a halo behind him. But he's not here to save me and the scene is one of horror rather than grace."I'm not getti
Tight Lips holds the device further from his ear this time and with the raised volume it's easier to hear."Your boss is a fucking...," Frankie starts in and then I miss what he says, but I can't imagine its kind words. "... End up dead. Take her home now and hope you don't see me."Tight Lips shakes his head. "Not until the boss calls."Frankie screams, his voice unrecognizable unlike when he spoke so softly to me a moment earlier. "Fuck your boss. You're only in this town because it benefits me..."He cuts out again, his words softer so I can't hear and that leaves me questioning how these two benefit Frankie. How does the mysterious man who lives in a mansion and everyone in town knows is up to no good get away with it for so long? Is it possible he has somebody else doing his dirty work? That seems like the smartest way to run a criminal empire. Not that I'd know.I walked right into his house that night and practically told him I was with Crispin. Who else knows and woul
We all stand, shocked. Quiet for a moment. The out-of-place intrusion takes over from the fear gripping me and leads to something more like puzzlement. I see her hair and the top of her head as if she's crouched down in Crispin's truck. "You brought Katy?" What was he thinking?Crispin closes his eyes in a slow blink and sighs. "Don't ask.""Listen, we don't want any trouble, but we're walking out of this alive. You can have her back once we're in the van."Crispin's eyes narrow. "And why would I trust you?" It's a legit question.Before he answers, a shot rings out, the bullet whizzing past my ears. I scream, jerking away from Tank, but it only forces him to push his finger deeper into my injury. He smiles at Crispin with a dark and dangerous look."You missed!" he yells, spit flying from his mouth.Crispin, unfazed, smirks as if the two of them are playing a game and he moved his chess piece into checkmate position. "Did I?" he asks with a flick of his chin motioning behi
All the emotions I'd worked hard to block from last night, not wanting to lose my shit in front of Crispin and his friends, come barreling out. "Don't call me names, you asshole. And listen up, I'm sick and tired of your crap. I have a lot of things going on in my life right now and I won't take shit from you. Damn it, Ben. I can't even find a cookie."I don't know what your problem is and why you're obsessed with trying to tick me off, but I've had enough of it. Don't call me again. If your life is so perfect, why don't you go live it? Fuck your whore and cheat on her too. I do not care anymore what you do, Ben. I don't want to see your name on my fucking phone again or I will turn you into the cops, you dumbass. Lose this number. Got it?"I hang up, not giving him time to confirm. Knowing Ben, he'll argue with me and keep it going for fun. I never realized how much he started fights on purpose when we were together. With my voice scratchy from all the yelling I've done in the las
Her mention of Crispin brings up a second point. She never did tell me the complete story of how she ended up in his truck during my rescue two short days ago. She said she came to my house to see if I wanted to go to dinner and I wasn't home. When Crispin pulled his truck into his driveway she ran over, jumped in, and said, "Where is Stella?" Then they worked out the fact I'd been missing for much too long. It was a simple story... too simple.Crispin's story differed slightly. It went more along the lines of he was driving into his driveway when Katy jumped out from a bush, practically jumped in front of his truck and the next thing he knew she was at his passenger side buckling herself in and yelling about going to save Stella. He also says she threatened to shoot him if he made her get out of the car, but that part is a little sketchy even during his second retelling.Thankfully, somehow Frankie had gotten word to Ridge I was in trouble and Crispin had been lucky enough to be h
Katy cuts enough pieces so she's able to push the section of fencing in and then she snips one more for good measure to give us more clearance. Without warning, she pops her body through the hole and then stands back, holding the cut fence section wider for me. When we're both on the other side of the compound, the entering part of our crime done, I pause. Not moving a muscle, I wait for the dogs to come and eat us.Two seconds tick by with no barking or teeth crunching. Katy takes a few steps away and then turns back, realizing I'm not following her."What you waiting for, Stella?""The dogs." These places always have big ferocious dogs hanging around ready to take a bite out of your leg and make your head a chew toy.Katy gives me a weird look and then turns. "No dogs."How can they not have dogs? What respectable bicycle gang surrounded by a metal fence doesn't have a pack of wild hungry dogs to keep them safe? It's like they aren't even trying to keep up with the stereoty
Crispin's eyes dart to mine and then narrow as if he is angry with the bikers holding guns on him, but seeing me has somehow decidedly ticked him off more."Where did you find them?" One man holding a gun pointed at Ridge's chest asks, not looking back to see us.Knuckles grunts. "They hadn't even made it in the building. They were sneaking around the trees."I tighten my lips, not letting myself argue with his assessment because it sounds like an excellent lie to me. If Knuckles feels the need to lie to the head honcho biker, I trust his judgment.Katy, not disturbed by any of it, walks right past the bikers and stands next to Crispin and Ridge, leaving me to jog and catch up to them. "See you later, boys!" She waves before getting into the back of the Escalade unprompted.Crispin shakes his head at me but says nothing until I squeak out an I'm sorry."What did I say about Katy?" he says before closing the door on the Escalade and then getting in the front seat without wai
ElliotFive years later"No, sweetie, we only get one puppy today." I squat getting on the same level as my daughter, Brandise.The round ball of fluff she squeezes onto with all her might so he doesn't run away licks her across the face and she giggles. "Daddy, they're twins just me and Bray. They have to stay together."My eyes flick back and forth between each dog. One held in the tight grip of Brandise and the other being sized up by my son. Their mother, Harley, a woman who took too long for me to figure she meant everything stands between the two of them with her lips pinched together not helping me in this situation. She's left me out in the cold on my own.The two puppy siblings look alike, but in my eyes every Yorkie looks the same. How can you tell them apart? The puppies my babies held both had a lighter colored face than Rocky, but other than that they were big puffballs of fur."Sweetie, Rocky only needs one brother," I try again hoping to talk sense into her.
Elliot's steps are slow but sure as I hold open the bakery door to let him get through the space. Once he's cleared the way, I stand beside him in case he needs me for support as he makes his way to the first table in the busy sitting section. You wouldn't expect a shoulder injury to cause issues walking, but with each movement his body makes, his shoulder sways with the force and his face grimaces.It's too soon for him to be up and moving, but I couldn't make him listen to reason.He finds his seat and plops in it heavily, the chair legs scraping on the tile. The people around us stop what they're doing and turn before a small round of applause starts from behind the bakery counter and then picks up including people from every space in the bakery. Elliot turns to the noise, catching everyone in their adoration, and scowls until the clapping fades."Cupcakes for everyone," Anessa says smiling from her spot at the counter. "Especially for our new hero."Elliot's scowl deepens.
Dominick releases a breath and sucks in another one as if preparing himself for this new life. "Are you positive? Because there are very eligible bachelors in my club. A brother could keep you safe."I don't argue with him that Elliot kept me safe. Well at least until he got shot, and no one can blame a man for that. He literally stuck his body in between me and a loaded weapon. How much more could he have done?Plus I could never live life in the club again. Now after experiencing life on my own. "Yeah, and then they'd cheat on me or go to prison."Dominick shakes his head. "My men aren't that way. They love hard and deep. I changed the club here, Harley. It's different from how we grew up in Colorado."There's honesty in his words, but it will never be enough to bring me back. "Elliot is mine."Dom shakes his head once, admitting defeat. "Fine. Onto topic two. I met your father," he says father accusatorily like I've been keeping something from him.Which, in a way, I hav
Without warning there's another harsh pop in the air like someone shooting off a firecracker, and then red blossoms in the middle of Pete's forehead. His body falls back hitting the ground once again. The thud is too far away to hear, but I swear my body feels the vibration.Holy fuck.My ears ring from the gunfire as men pool around us each of them yelling things back and forth. It's coordinated chaos. An ambulance with its lights flashing speeds over the highway."That man took three bullets to the chest," Huxley mutters to himself shaking his head. "I haven't seen anything that crazy since Thailand."... The steady beat of Elliot's hospital machines lulls me into a restless sleep as my head rests on Elliot's hand."Harley," a deep voice whispers in my ear, shaking my shoulder. "Har."In a start my head pops up and my eyes search Elliot's face, but his hand still rests underneath my head, a pool of my drool sticking between his fingers."Still drool, huh? I wouldn't
"Dominick won't pay anything for me," I lie.Pete laughs. "Don't want money. I'm looking to trade you for a free get-out-of-town card. If he won't offer me his protection, you'll be a going away gift to my men. They're upset with having to leave. I'm sure you understand.""What?" Fear causes me to choke out the word as a hundred images flash through my brain of what he could mean, but only one is sick and depraved enough for this man.He smirks. "They'll love you if the Impaler doesn't."I fall to my knees against the back of his seat. "No, please don't." I'd rather he shoot me now than do what his smile promises. He means I'm to be a sexual gift given to his men and passed between them. I'd never survive. Sure, Dom trained me in basic self-defense skills, but my mother sheltered me from club life so I only heard the evils of the world through others. Until now, I never once felt concern for my safety. Not the way I do now.The cargo van travels on the highway, passing a bill
"Stand up, Fucker."Elliot scoots away from me as I claw deftly on his leg trying to hold on and keep him close. He turns, not making any sudden movements and puts his body in front of mine to shield me once again from the nasties of life."Let's not do anything drastic, Pete." Elliot takes a step forward with his hand held out defensively.I twist seeing the old man wearing a pair of board shorts, a blue Hawaiian shirt with palm trees, and flip-flops on his feet standing in the middle of the beach. He resembles a tourist who belongs in Florida not a man running a drug ring in Pelican Bay. He sneers at me taking the tension from Elliot for just a moment and waving the gun in his direction as if either of us could forget it's there."She's the only one who can name me. Without her I can pick up shop and start somewhere fresh and there's nothing you can do about it. You guys don't have shit on me.""You're standing in the middle of a public beach during the day, Pete," Elliot t
He flinches as of my question has hurt him, but I'm the child who didn't have a father. "I got out early for good behavior and I looked up your mother. I learned what happened. Sorry about your loss," he says. The words are stagnant as if he knows what he's supposed to say but struggles with the meaning. Yet, something in the inflection makes me believe he means each one. His eyes turn soft, possibly remembering his time with my mother.My life has never been cupcakes and cookies, but the last month has been indescribable except for the word surreal. First, I had no father, then I picked up a club president for a stepdad, lost him, and now gained back the original. What is happening to my life?"What will happen now?"My father shakes his head and stares at me with a touch of a smile tweaking his lips. "I'm out of the club life. Plan to take the straight and narrow from here on out."I hold back the cringe at his promise. It's one I've heard from club brothers my entire life. E
Elliot shakes his head, his fingers curving around the handle of his gun. His face pinches together as if he has so much to say, but is staying silent for me.Until he doesn't anymore."Would someone mind telling me what the fuck is going on?"He's not the only one looking for answers. "Me too. Mom said you died in a motorcycle crash. Drove your bike over a mountain ledge one night." She hadn't said he'd been drinking, but I've filled in the blanks for myself as I aged.My father's teeth come together hard making a gnashing sound I hear even from my position. "Yeah well. She thought it would be better than the true story. Easier for both of you to move on rather than wait around on me living only a half-life.""Then what is the true story?" After my mom left Dominick's dad, it was the three of us together. I always believed we never hid any secrets from one another.My father shakes his head and stares at me but looks past me as if he's reliving the memories himself. "She s
My gaze and thoughts flip to the back door, but I'm too far away to reach it before he could shoot me.The man is younger than Pete and not the person I saw put a bullet in someone earlier this month, but he's old enough to be my father. His skin is leathered and wrinkled as if he's spent a lifetime in the sun. His jeans are loose and a leather jacket lacking any MC cut is wrapped around his body. Not a Bloodhound.I stand next to the kitchen island breathing heavily while trying to come up with an escape plan as the two of us stare at one another unmoving.He speaks first. "Now, Harley, is this any way to greet the old man who named you?"His words scatter in my brain, startling me into paying attention, all my plans of escape lost. "Excuse me? My father named me."It was one of the few stories I had of the man who shared such a brief relationship with my mother. "He wanted to pay homage to the best...""Damn motorcycle company the US has ever seen," he finishes my sentenc