Motorcycle Man

Chapter Twenty-Five Absolution

I woke draped on Tack, smelling his musk.

I opened my eyes and saw Tabby’s tat under where my cheek was resting on Tack’s shoulder. Somehow in the night we’d repositioned to our usual sleeping arrangement.

And as usual, it felt good.

Then a sharp stab pierced my heart as the day before washed through my brain.

Damn.

Right. One step at a time and my first step was, bathroom. Second, as ever, coffee. And then check on Tabby. And then…

I didn’t know.

But when that step came, I’d figure it out.

Super carefully because I really didn’t want to wake Tack, I lifted my arm that was lying across his flat belly and started to roll.

The problem with that was that Tack started to roll with me. He was bigger, more powerful and his roll took me to my back with him mostly on top of me.

Great. Awake half a minute and already my day wasn’t going according to plan.

His head came up and my eyes caught his alert, totally not sleepy ones.

“Where you goin’?” he asked softly, his gravelly, early morning, warm in bed rumble drifting over my skin.

“Bathroom,” I answered, ignoring my body and heart’s response to his rumble.

His eyes drifted over my face as if he was trying to ascertain if I was lying about heading to the bathroom and instead intended to make haste to my secret chamber that would beam me to Fort Lauderdale.

Then his eyes came back to mine. “After, come back to bed.”

I shook my head. “After, I’m starting coffee.”

He gave into that but ordered, “After that, come back to me.”

“No,” I denied. “After that, I want to check on Tabby.”

“She’s good,” he muttered, his forearm that was in the bed beside me sliding up so his fingers could glide in my hair at the side of my head. “Got up after you drifted off last night, checked on her. Sat with her a while ‘cause she wasn’t findin’ sleep. Got her a couple Tylenol PMs. She went out, checked about half an hour ago, she’s still out.”

There it was. He might not win father of the year but he’d had his blowout then it was all about looking after his little girl.

Not a surprise. A relief, but not a surprise. Also sweet but I ignored that too.

Tack finished, “So after coffee, you’re back here.”

Whatever. I’d agree and do what I wanted.

So I lied, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he whispered then dipped his head and touched his lips to mine where he then touched the tip of his tongue to my lips. His goatee tickled my skin and for some reason I felt his mouth, tongue and goatee more than I usually felt it and usually I didn’t miss it. But it was like I was trying to memorize it. As if somewhere in the back of my mind I knew, soon, it would be gone and I’d never have it again.

He lifted his head and said quietly, “Hurry back to me, baby.”

And usually him saying something like that quietly or even not quietly and just plain bossy would make me hurry back to him.

This time, I just nodded and that was a lie too.

He rolled off but did it with his hand sliding to my jaw, taking my hair with it and then I was free.

I rolled the other way and since I’d packed most of my stuff the night before, I went to my bag and dragged it into the bathroom. I did my thing, found a pair of loose-fitting, soft, elastic waist pajama shorts with a cute little frilly edge on the hem and tugged them on. They didn’t exactly go with my tee but, whatever. An outfit that matched was not, at that time (like it normally was), a priority.

I washed my face, brushed, flossed then packed my things back in the bag, ready for anything.

Then I walked out and I wanted to avoid looking at the bed but I couldn’t. Even undone by the events of the day before and uncertain of my future with my man, such was the power of his charisma, I couldn’t help but look.

Sheet to the waist, chest, tats, six-pack on display, up on an elbow with his head in his hand, probing sapphire blue eyes on me… all man, all beautiful, all hot.

Damn.

I moved quickly to the kitchen, started coffee then went to Tabby’s room. The door was closed, though not latched seeing as it was broken. I hoped Tack was as good with a screwdriver as he was with whatever tools they used in a garage (okay, so I wasn’t fucking up at work so much, still, I had no clue what they did – FYI, you could order parts without knowing how they were installed). Slowly, I pushed her door open and on quiet feet I walked to the bed.

Tack was right, Tabby was out. I was also right, she was sleeping on her right side so her left was visible in the morning light and she had a shiner. It wasn’t angry but it was swollen and it wasn’t a good look.

A seriously unfun lesson to learn at sixteen that guys could be dicks and some of them supreme assholes.

I pulled in a silent breath and leaned over her, cautiously shifting her long, thick hair away from her temple, cheek and neck. Then, it wasn’t my place, we had been building it (until last night) but it wasn’t where we were, still, I leaned down and kissed her soft hair at the side of her head.

Then I straightened, turned to the door and stopped dead.

Tack was leaning in it, arms crossed on his chest, leg crossed at the ankle, no shirt, no shoes, messy hair, faded jeans.

I swallowed.

“Couldn’t help yourself,” he whispered.

“No,” I whispered back.

He made no reply except for his lips twitching and his warm, beautiful eyes getting warmer and more beautiful.

Since I couldn’t stay in Tabby’s room forever, I walked toward him then went sideways to squeeze by him.

This effort failed when Tack’s fingers curled around my upper arm and he halted me right after I made it into the hall.

I watched as he leaned in and pulled Tabby’s door to. Then he came to me, rounding and shifting me so he was in front of me and I had my back to the back hall. His arms slid around me and he started walking forward thus I had no choice but to walk backward.

This seemed a theme in our relationship, Kane “Tack” Allen backing me into something.

I lifted my hands to place them on his chest and said quietly, “I’m going to get a cup of coffee.”

“Later,” he muttered, still moving.

Not a good choice of word.

I went silent.

Tack switched directions at his door, backed me in, stopped us to close the door with his foot, it latched then he started moving us again. Another switch in directions and I was down on his bed with Tack on top of me and my hands on his chest captive between us.

I stared in his eyes as they moved over my face and I steeled myself against how nice it felt when his hand framed one side and his thumb came out to sweep across the apple of my cheek.

“Quiet again this mornin’,” he muttered after he studied me for a while.

“Mm hmm,” I agreed but shared no further.

His eyes caught mine.

“She’s sleepin’,” he told me something I knew. “This mornin’, she and me’ll talk. I’ll see where her head is at, why she keeps doin’ fucked up shit and then we’ll see if we can get her over this crap.”

“That’d be good,” I replied.

“Right now, I wanna know where your head is at.”

“My head is thinking of coffee,” I lied.

“Bullshit,” he called me on it, speaking gently.

I pulled in breath.

“Talk to me, babe,” Tack urged.

“You back me up a lot,” I observed and his brows drew together.

“Say again?”

“You back me up a lot.”

His head tilted slightly to the side but he didn’t reply.

I gave examples, “In my office, last night in this room, just now down the hall and, um… also in this room.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So?”

I fell silent.

Tack rode my silence for half a minute then he ended it.

“Red, I know you don’t want me to bring her up at all, ‘specially not in this bed, but BeeBee’s –”

At his words I decided it was time.

So it was me who started laying it out.

“You mistook me yesterday,” I stated, interrupting him. “That wasn’t about me thinking you’d do what Hop did. That was about me confronting something that was shocking and difficult to process. It was unfortunate you called seconds after it happened when I’d had no time to think about it. But then you pushed me on it when I tried not to talk about it and I had no choice but to process it on the spot, not on my time. So I did what I do. I got pissed about it.” I took in a breath and finished quietly, “You shouldn’t have pushed me, Tack.”

His hand moved to my cheek so his thumb could glide along my lips the entire time his eyes didn’t leave mine but he didn’t say a word.

That, I supposed, was an apology but it also wasn’t.

So be it.

I kept talking.

“I grew up in Ozzie and Harriet’s house. My Mom’s a homemaker and bakes pies. We went to church every Sunday. My Dad believes in God, the sanctity of marriage, football and shoot ‘em ups, in that order. I might have broken free from something that wasn’t entirely me to live my own life but I have never, nor did I ever expect, to see two people having sex right before my eyes. That was shocking. I didn’t know what to do with it.”

“From here on in, darlin’, you go to my room in the Compound only with me.”

“It’s too late, Tack. What was seen cannot be unseen.”

“Red –”

“And it was her.” I felt his body still as I felt the sting of tears in my nose and I took in a deep breath to control them before I went on, “You don’t get how big that was, that it was her, because I didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“That I fell in love with you during tequila and roast pork sandwiches.”

His big frame gave a small jerk, his eyes flashed and his fingers tensed on my face but I kept going.

“It’s stupid, ridiculous actually, I know it. And I don’t care since I also know deep in my heart that it happened. Black and white, my whole life it seems I lived in black and white. I met you, suddenly all around me there was color.” I sucked in breath and whispered, “Then you kicked me out of bed.”

His face went soft, his eyes went warm and his head dipped closer to me as he growled a low, rough, quiet, “Baby.”

I shook my head. “I fell in love with you and you didn’t let me spend the night. You didn’t even kiss me good-bye. And a day later, I saw you with her and you’d spent the night with her and you were kissing her good-bye.”

“Fuckin’ Christ, baby,” he whispered, his hand flattening against the side of my head.

“That didn’t sting, Tack, it hurt.”

“Tyra, darlin’, I had no clue.”

“I know you didn’t. That doesn’t mean that wasn’t what I was feeling. And seeing her yesterday at all, much less what I saw, was going to be unpleasant. Circumstances and her being her just made it worse.”

“She’s gone.”

I nodded my head. “Yeah. But what’s done can’t be undone either.”

“Tyra –”

“I’ve had five lovers.”

Tack blinked and his head went back slightly.

Then he asked, “What?”

“Five. Carefully chosen. Men I could work with. Men I thought, since I knew they weren’t perfect, they would become that.”

“No one’s perfect, baby,” he interjected.

“Please listen to me,” I whispered and he slightly lifted his chin to communicate he acquiesced to my request so I continued. “I promised myself, as a little girl, that I would settle for nothing less than my dream man. Nothing less. It was crazy. I’ve thought on it and I don’t even know why I vowed that to myself. I just did. Girls do that, sure. Then the reality of life seeps in and they get over it. I never did. My dream man or nothing. So I looked for him my whole life. I was going to live that dream, I would settle for nothing less. So I had nothing until that night at Ride when I met you.”

I felt more of his heavy weight settle into me and his thumb swept my jaw as he whispered, “Red –”

“And I know you think I’m vulnerable, Tack. And I know you understand you have to teach me how to live in your world. But I’m not so stupid as to be partying with a bunch of rough and tumble bikers in the forecourt of a garage, drinking tequila and getting laid and through that convince myself the man I’m with is perfect, the man I’d been looking for, my dream man because I’m desperate to find him or the sex was great or I was drunk. The perfect I was looking for wasn’t perfection. The perfect I was looking for was the one. And he was you.”

His hand pressed in as he murmured, “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, baby.”

“Then you kicked me out of your bed without even a kiss good-bye.”

“Christ, baby,” he growled.

“And then you were a jerk. And I couldn’t believe I was so wrong about you. Then you weren’t a jerk. Then you were again. And, looking back, I didn’t know I was doing it but I’ll admit right now that you’re right. I was playing games. I was doing it because I was testing you because if I was going to settle on the one I had to be sure he was… the one.”

“Tyra –”

“You passed,” I whispered and his eyes heated as his face got closer, his hand shifting to cup my jaw and I finished, “Then last night, you failed.”

His head jerked back.

“What?”

“You put your hand to my throat and shoved me against the wall.”

“Tyra –”

“I’ll accept beer and tequila and eating chips out of a bag and dip out of jars and ten pounds of extra weight,” I told him. “I’ll accept people smoking pot and making out hot and heavy all around me. I’ll even do it, if I’m in the mood. Though maybe not the pot,” I carried on. “I’ll accept your brothers getting their rocks off whenever they want with whoever they want because that’s the way of your world and also, because you’re right, it’s none of my business. And lastly, having had time to think about it, it’s the way of any world. Men cheat, women do too. It happens everywhere, not just with bikers. Though, I must say, I don’t ever want to see it again in the flesh,” I shared and kept going. “And I’ll accept essentially being a second class citizen in your biker world but only if I’m treated with respect to my face and that shit does not come home. I’ll even accept rivers of blood because a man like you has to do what you have to do and part of the reason why you were the one is because you’re a man like you.”

I pulled in breath, held his eyes and finished.

“What I will not accept is being shoved against the wall, a car or even a pillow with your hand at my throat.”

To this, he replied immediately, “But your pulse is there, baby.”

My head jerked and I felt my brows shoot together because his soft response was not anywhere near what I expected.

“Pardon?” I whispered.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked.

“That isn’t the point.”

“Yeah, darlin’, it is. Now answer, did I hurt you?”

“No,” I whispered.

“And I won’t,” he replied. “Ever,” he went on firmly. “Not like that,” he concluded.

“Tack –”

“Found my sister dead. OD.”

I blinked in shock at his words, the change in subject and, well, his freaking words!

Then I whispered, “What?”

“Dead. It was me who was with her, me who found her. Felt her throat, no pulse. I gotta tell you, Red, there is nothin’, not one thing in the world worse than puttin’ your hand to the throat of someone you love and… feelin’… nothin’.”

Oh my God.

“Tack –” I breathed.

“Rush was already born before she died but first thing I did when Tab was born was wrap my fingers around her throat to feel her pulse.”

Oh God.

“Handsome –” I whispered.

But my time to talk was done.

I knew this when Tack kept talking.

“I grew up in the life. My Dad was in a Club. His was different than Chaos. Started by veterans. Pissed. Jacked up. They had their reasons and I don’t got their experiences so I don’t judge. But his Club was about brotherhood, the end. Not country, not blood, but loyalty to your brothers. They thought country fucked them over so that no longer factored. Blood came second place but only if the biker was the kind of man where his old lady or kid meant somethin’ to him. And they weren’t about freedom to live your life the way you want even if that way is raisin’ hell. They were radicals. They were into anything and everything, serious, whacked out shit, all of it. And everything they did was to fuck The Man.” His eyes held mine, they were intense, drilling into mine and his lips kept speaking. “And, ‘cause ‘a that shit, my Dad’s doin’ a long fuckin’ stretch, life for double homicide.”

Ohmigod!

“Yeah,” he muttered, watching me closely. “That a good thing to share when you’re gettin’ to know a sweet, feisty woman who you know’s gonna mean something to you?”

Oh God!

“Honey –”

“My Dad,” he cut me off, “was about the brotherhood, not blood. Spent my life watchin’ him knock my mother around. Spent my life knowin’ he fucked around on her whenever he wanted, wherever he wanted and he did not give one shit that she or his kids knew. Spent that time vowin’, I got a good woman, which my Mom was in the beginning, that I would never, not ever, do that shit.”

His eyes were hard, resolute and I kept silent because I figured it was now “later” so I had to take what was coming to me.

And I wanted it.

So I kept quiet and took it.

“Got an older brother,” he kept going. “He hit eighteen, he joined the Air Force. Got the fuck out. Dad was in prison by then and Mom had convinced herself she wasn’t worth shit so she just kept hookin’ up with shitheel biker after shitheel biker that treated her like Dad or worse. Don’t blame my brother for gettin’ the fuck out. Do blame him for never turnin’ back. Didn’t hear from him then, don’t now, don’t even know where the fuck he is. He left me and Kimmy to that. By the time I was free, I just wanted out so bad, I couldn’t see anything else. So I got on my Dad’s old Harley, took off and left her to that too.”

He was still struggling with that decision, it was clear on his face. He wasn’t hiding it from me. And it hurt to witness.

So I slid my hands up, wrapped my fingers around his neck and whispered, “Baby.”

Tack was in the zone because he showed no response that I’d even spoken and kept talking.

“Searchin’, that was what I was doin’. Pissed off at the world ‘cause ‘a my shitty life, scared as shit I had my Dad in me, searchin’ for somethin’ that would prove that wrong, lead me to a better life. Somethin’ to do to get that poison out of my system. Somewhere where I belonged. Found Chaos. Back then, they were a good Club, about livin’ life, havin’ a good time doin’ it and raisin’ hell, all of which I wanted, the last I needed. They sold pot. They had the garage as a front. And they were about the brotherhood but also blood and country. Not a lot of places in this world you can ride free and do the shit we liked to do. America is one of them. They appreciated that. That isn’t to say that they abided by all her laws but that was their choice and it was a choice they could take because we live in America.”

He pulled in breath and was talking quieter when he spoke again.

“But the first Chaos party I went to, old ladies were there, kids. Later ones, yeah, they got rowdy and shit went down but that first one was about family. I liked that. I liked the way the brothers were with their women, their kids. I liked the shit they had to say about what the Club was about, what the brotherhood meant. So I found where I belonged and became a recruit.”

“I’m glad you found that, handsome,” I said softly.

“Me too,” he agreed. “But then I got my cut and was let into the way the Club was goin’ and I was in, no goin’ back even if I really didn’t fuckin’ agree with the path they’d turned down. They kept goin’, meant I was followin’ in my father’s footsteps. But these were my brothers. So I kept my mouth shut, did my bit but planned for the future, talked the Club into explorin’ different avenues while they made their way down that path, just in case they got their shit together and veered off. Didn’t work but I kept at it, met Naomi, got her knocked up with Rush, married her ass and she got what she wanted. She was born an old lady. She loved the life. She bullshitted me, a miracle how she could do that while suckin’ my cock, as I told her where I felt the Club should be and she said she was with me all the way. She knew before she got deep into it with me where my mind was at and she threw her hat in my ring. And when Kimmy died, she knew I’d come back full of fire to make that change and she acted like I never fuckin’ told her when practically every night I’d talk about it, in our bed before we went to sleep. She liked drippin’ in the rose gold I could give her ‘cause ‘a what the Club was into. She liked havin’ a decent house because she didn’t grow up in one. She liked quiet, she liked the flow, she did not have what it takes to stand by her man. A follower needs one kind of woman in his bed, a leader another. She’s the woman of a follower. She mighta thought she had what it took or even hoped she did but she didn’t. She only had what it takes to hold him down. And that has not changed. Her old man Pipe used to be a decent guy. He’s just weaker than me. She didn’t delay in draggin’ his ass down, he didn’t fight it, that’s where he is and, unless he gets shot of her ass, that’s where he’ll always be.”

Well that fully explained Naomi and made me think even less of her which was quite a feat.

“What path was the Club on?” I asked quietly and Tack focused on me.

Then he rolled to my side and put his hands to my pits, pulling me up further in the bed before he shifted up beside me, rolled again, to his back so I was on top, chest to chest.

He lifted a hand, pulled the side of my hair back and continued talking.

“The Club ran drugs, babe,” he said quietly, my body locked and I stared at him. “Not sales. Safe transport. And doin’ that, they did all that went with it. The path got darker and darker, the Club got deeper and deeper and I didn’t like it even before my Mom called and told me Kimmy was fucked up.”

Right, okay, first things first.

“Tell me about Kimmy,” I urged.

Tack pulled in breath through his nostrils and I already knew the end was not a happy one. I still braced when he prepared by sifting his fingers through my hair and then pulling it away from my face again and burying his hand in it before he continued.

“You live our life, unless you develop a tough skin, that shit’ll eat you alive. I thought Kimmy had a tough skin. She was hard, seen it all, done it all by the age of twelve. Least that was the way she acted. I was wrong. She had a soft spot. I just didn’t see it so I sure as fuck didn’t protect it.”

Oh God.

I closed my eyes, Tack’s hand slid to my jaw and I opened them.

“Yeah,” he whispered, “you’re gettin’ it, babe.”

“That’s why you like mine,” I deduced in a return whisper.

“And that’s why I’ll bust my balls to protect it.”

Oh God.

“Go on,” I kept whispering.

He drew in another breath and then did as I asked.

“I left her behind but unlike my brother, I didn’t leave her. She mighta seemed hard but we were tight. She could be funny and we held together in a house that felt like a boat tossed in a storm all the fuckin’ time. She got it when I took off, she even told me to get the fuck out. But, soon’s I could, I reconnected with both of them but mostly Kimmy. And soon after that, I started to send her money in hopes she’d find her own way out. Brought her out to Colorado when I married Naomi. Brought them both out when Rush was born. Naomi was pregnant with Tabby, nearly to term when Mom called. Told me Kimmy was hooked on shit, totally fucked up, stealin’, lyin’, turnin’ tricks.”

I held my breath at this news trying not to look like I was holding my breath but Tack was back in his zone, a seriously bad zone, and thus didn’t notice it.

“So I went back to California to sort her shit out. What I found, babe, was pissed at my Mom for not tellin’ me sooner. She wasn’t a mess, she fuckin’ defined it. So we talked, or I talked and she shouted. Saw no way to clear her of that shit unless I intervened and took matters into my own hands. Should not have done that. Should never have done that. Should have put her in a hospital. Too late now, I did it. I locked her in a room with me while she detoxed. It was not pretty. Screamin’, fightin’, scratchin’, pukin’, gettin’ the shakes, Christ, those fuckin’ shakes. Like seizures. Whacked. And it did not work. Up for seventy-two hours, dealin’ with her shit, I passed out. She had a stash, junkies are fuckin’ geniuses when it comes to hidin’ their stash, took it, I woke up, she wasn’t movin’ and that was that. She did it with me right in the room. Me right there. My little sister killed herself and I was five feet away, fuckin’ sleeping.”

I closed my eyes but slid my hand up his chest so I could again curl my fingers around his neck and this time I did it tight.

I opened them when Tack stated, “Put Kimmy into the ground on a Friday. Hightailed my ass back to Colorado because Tabby came into the world that Sunday.”

That would mark a man.

That would definitely mark a man.

And that marked my man.

His eyes focused on mine and his hand slid back into my hair, his fingers twisting in it and his words were soft when he said, “The Russians got you, didn’t even think, I got to you, put my hand to your throat. I needed that pulse, babe, so I went for it. Shy shared what went down last night with that asshole and his bat, also didn’t think, put my hand to your throat. It was not meant to hurt you or alarm you. It was done so I could assure myself you were alive.”

This made sense. So much of it, it was sad at the same time it was beautiful.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“My sister’s addiction, I steer clear of any ‘a that shit so I do not smoke pot, my choice, personal. Others do, I don’t judge. You wanna try that shit, that’s your choice too and I won’t judge that either. But you wanna try it, you do it only with me around so I can look after you.”

“I don’t want to try it,” I assured him and he nodded.

Then he declared, “Outside pot, drugs do not touch Chaos.”

I licked my lips before I asked hesitantly, “So I take it they veered off that dark path?”

“No, they did not. I came back with a fire in my belly to get my Club clear of that shit, stop makin’ it easy for people to take the escape my sister took and make certain I did not become the man my father was. But I was smart enough to bank it. I bided my time. I built up the garage and the stores. I recruited brothers who saw things my way and we planned. The monetary success of the stores and garage had to cover the Club so their lifestyles didn’t change too much when we pulled our shit off that dark path. I got enough support, I took over. It was hostile. We lost some brothers, they renounced the Club, took off, started to do their own thing. And it was unpopular in factions outside the Club. We were good at what we did and the people we worked with weren’t real happy we were no longer going to provide that service. Shit got ugly, lost a brother to it, but we got clear. And one of the suppliers we worked for was the Russian mob.”

I gasped. “You lost a brother?”

“Yeah.”

“As in, he died?” I whispered.

“Bowin’ out of safe transport of narcotics is not the same as handin’ in your resignation.”

Too true.

“The Russians?”

“Yeah. I still am not popular with them. And there’s another reason why Arlo and High are about showin’ you respect. They like the money but they also like the rush. Danger is a drug and they’re hooked. They are the last of the brothers who are still tryin’ to get us back in. They got ties to the Russians to keep that avenue open for us should they get me out. What they didn’t expect was that the Russians would pick up someone connected to Chaos. You and me were new, the Russians didn’t want you and had no clue who you were. Even so, that shit doesn’t fly with Chaos. Collateral damage, no matter how that comes about, is unacceptable. Kids, women, not just old ladies but you just bein’ the garage’s office manager, was steppin’ over a line and that line is not drawn in the sand, babe. Not for Chaos. That line is fixed in cement.”

This was good to know.

“Right,” I said softly.

“So Arlo and High are on board and after this is done, where it takes us, I have no clue. Maybe the Russians takin’ you and Lanie, not backin’ down after that shit, not givin’ us our due by admittin’ their mistake, sending lieutenants to offer apologies, might have been a wakeup call to just how cold those motherfuckers are. You’re ours and you weren’t safe. Lanie has nothin’ to do with Belova’s shit and she wasn’t either. This means no one is. That’s a serious wakeup call ‘cause both Arlo and High got old ladies and High’s got kids. After we sweep up that mess, I don’t know how they’ll go. What I know is, drugs took my sister, I worked my ass off to get my brothers where they are, livin’ free and stayin’ free by not doin’ stupid, dangerous, fucked up shit that could get our asses in the joint or worse, dead, and my Club will not be involved in that shit in any way or I won’t be involved in the Club.”

“So you, um… don’t do anything illegal?”

He held my eyes.

Then he said quietly, “I didn’t say that.”

Oh boy.

Tack rolled again so I was on the bottom and he was looming over me.

Then he explained and he did gentle-like so I knew I was in for even more.

“We do what we gotta do to protect what’s ours and what we do might be frowned on in the eyes of the law. Case in point, there’s a twenty-three year old motherfucker who’ll think twice before he moves on another sixteen year old girl and definitely he won’t raise a hand to a woman. And he ain’t breathin’ easy and without pain learning that lesson because of you slappin’ him and unmannin’ him. He’s doin’ it ‘cause once you were gone, me and the boys finished the job.”

I figured they’d kept up with my lessons after I left so I nodded.

Tack went on.

“We also do what we wanna do to enjoy our lives and, you seen it, that includes shit like smokin’ pot. We got beefs with other Clubs or out in the world, we deal and that shit can turn bad. And a five mile perimeter around any Ride store is free of drugs and hookers. We parole it and if there’s a dealer or bitch on our turf, we don’t call the cops but we do take measures to remove them.”

Oh boy.

Tack kept going.

“But Ride’s books are clean and that means squeaky. We don’t transport drugs. We don’t offer enforcement. We don’t sell tail. We don’t sell guns. We build cars and sell auto supplies.”

“Sell tail?” I squeaked and Tack kept holding my eyes when he replied, “I told you that path was dark.”

Holy crap!

“So, uh… now you aren’t drug transporters, pimps and gun runners, you’re mechanics, hell raisers and kind of vigilantes?”

“Yeah.”

“But you were all that,” I whispered and Tack kept right on holding my eyes.

“Yeah.”

“You,” I pressed.

“Me,” he answered immediately.

Oh boy.

“Babe, my scope was Ride and the garage. This does not mean I didn’t get pulled into that shit. I did. And as a brother, I did my bit. And it took a long fuckin’ time but I did more than my bit to pull all of us out.”

“Okay,” I said softly. “So this was why I got all those ‘laters’? Because you weren’t fired up to share all of this?”

“This was why,” he confirmed.

I pulled in breath through my nose.

Before I could process any of what he said much less come to terms with it, Tack stated, “Love and redemption.”

My head tipped on the pillow. “What?”

“That movie you made me watch, first time at your house. Love and redemption. You said, ‘the most beautiful stories ever told are the most difficult to take’. You said that, Red. Right out. And I knew if you got that, when it was later and I shared my shit with you, you’d get me. I never thought my story was beautiful. I thought it was shit. But you said that and when you did, I saw it. The ride is not over but if I can keep my Club together and find a sweet, feisty woman who’s got my back and enough to her that she’ll stay there, holding me up not dragging me down, I figure I’d find my way to beauty eventually. And I’d find absolution because I’d know, I earned the love of that woman, a woman who’s got so much to her it’ll take years to dig down and find the heart of her, that would be my reward.”

Ohmigod.

Ohmigod!

Ohmigod!

Did he just say that?

Did. He. Just. Say that?

“And you told me,” Tack continued, his face coming closer, “I had that when I first met you.”

“I –”

“So I was hooked to that shit, I did it, I participated in it, I was loyal to my brothers as I’d vowed I’d be and I pulled me and my Club out of it. I did that but that didn’t erase what we did. You are my absolution.”

Oh.

My.

God.

Now did he just say that?

“Tack –”

“And no way in fuck I’m gonna get in a stupid-ass fight with my woman, find out hours later some asshole took his hand to my daughter, justifiably lose it and then watch the woman I been waitin’ for walk out my door.”

Oh God.

He said that. All of it.

“Tack, honey, I –”

“I get pissed, babe, wait it out or give it as good as you get,” he declared.

“But –”

“I say somethin’ stupid when I’m pissed, like you don’t have a say with my kids when you’re practically livin’ with them and definitely you’re a fixture in my life, you tell me to go fuck myself.”

“Well, I –”

“You got somethin’ to say, say it. You’re pissed, let it all hang out. You got an opinion, share it. What you don’t do is get scared of me and what you don’t do, ever, is walk out on us.”

I shut my mouth.

Tack waited.

I kept my mouth shut.

Tack didn’t.

“Am I clear?”

“Mostly,” I answered.

His eyes narrowed. “What’s not clear?”

“Rivers of blood.”

His head twitched and he asked, “Say again?”

“The Russian mob.”

He shook his head instantly. “No.”

What did he mean, no?

“No?” I asked.

“No,” he answered.

I verbalized my question. “What do you mean, no?”

“What I mean is, that is not done. But it’s gettin’ done. Careful, quiet. And how it gets done, you don’t know. You don’t know shit. So when it’s done, any shit blows back, you’re clear. The Club is dealin’ with this. You’re workin’ in the office and sharin’ my bed.”

“I –”

His fingers came up and pressed to my lips as his eyes locked with mine.

“Trust me.”

“What if you get hurt?” I said behind his fingers and he moved his hand.

“I won’t.”

“But what if you do? Or Dog? Brick? Hound? Or –”

“I won’t. They won’t.”

My voice was rising when I asked, “How can you be sure?”

“The whole point of doin’ it careful and quiet is so they don’t. I went with my base instinct, babe, blood would have been shed about fifteen minutes after we surrounded Hawk’s truck. But doin’ that shit serves no lasting purpose except the pain it might cause if someone gets hurt or dead. No, you plan that shit so the vengeance you seek sticks and lasts a fuckin’ lifetime.”

I was seeing benefits of Tack being sharp as a tack.

He kept talking.

“The mob bought that shit when they took Mara and Lawson’s kids. We been workin’ that now for fuckin’ ever. They took you, the time had come to speed that up and be done with it. But you are not involved or in the know. You trust your man. Then, when it’s done, we live easy until the next fuckin’ drama. And, Tabby doesn’t pull her head outta her ass, seein’ as we got two years of her at least in this house, that could happen tomorrow since it happened yesterday. And by the way,” he added, “I know it I made my point last night but it’s worth repeating. It didn’t help you goin’ commando on that motherfucker’s ass.”

“I’d had a bad day,” I muttered and his mouth curved.

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t think,” I went on.

“Got that, babe.”

“Actually, to be honest, I’m not entirely certain what came over me,” I admitted.

“Don’t care, long’s it doesn’t come over you again.”

I took in a breath.

Then I shared, “Well, considering I didn’t exactly have control over it the last time, I can’t make that promise.”

“Fuck me,” he muttered to the headboard.

“But I’ll try,” I offered, he looked at me and when he did, his eyes had changed in a way that made me catch my breath.

“You bein’ cute mean we’re over this current shit?”

I let out my breath and asked back, “If I say yes, will you let me up for coffee?”

His face dipped close. “Babe, I like your cute but this is kinda important.”

I pulled in yet another breath and held his gaze as I whispered, “Do I really have a choice not to be over this current shit?”

“No,” he replied instantly.

“I didn’t think so,” I muttered.

“Red, you’re still bein’ cute.”

I sighed.

Then my voice softened and my arms tightened around him as I whispered, “I’m sorry that happened with your sister.”

Tack closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to mine.

There it was.

Damn, there it was. He gave it right to me but I should have known the instant I looked in his awake, alert eyes after I woke.

He’d worried about my state of mind, about the state of us, he didn’t sleep and me moving through the drama, taking in all he was, all he used to be and accepting it meant everything.

And like the everything I gave him, everything Kane “Tack” Allen gave me meant the exact same.

Everything.

I kept talking.

“And that your story is difficult to take.”

He opened his eyes, stared into mine and whispered, “Baby.”

“But I’m not your absolution, honey. You earned it before you met me.”

“You’re my reward.”

Oh God.

I liked that he thought that. Like, a lot.

So I agreed, “Okay.”

“You’re in love with me,” he stated and my breath left me.

So I had to force out my, “I –”

His head came up half an inch and he repeated, “You’re in love with me.”

I closed my eyes.

“Eyes, babe.”

I opened my eyes.

“You’re in love with me,” he said yet again.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Since we met.”

“I know it sounds crazy, Tack, but –”

“Since we met.”

I fell silent for a moment then said softly, “Yes.”

“Thank fuck you needed that fuckin’ job enough to go head-to-head with me,” he muttered.

“Um…” I started to correct, “I think I went head-to-head with you mostly because you were a jerk. It was only partly because of the job.”

“Then thank fuck I was a jerk.”

Who would have ever thought I’d agree with that?

Still, I did.

“Can I have coffee now?” I requested.

“No.”

“Tack!” I snapped.

“I love you too, babe.”

My mouth dropped open and I stared.

But although my body was still and my mind was blank, my belly got warm and my heart tripped before it got light.

Tack wasn’t done.

“Watchin’ that fuckin’ movie, minute my fingers curled around your chin, turned your face to mine and I saw you were cryin’, that’s when it happened.”

Oh hell.

I started crying right then.

“Or, coulda been when I saw you in your yoga shit,” he muttered, watching the tears fill my eyes.

“Shut up,” I whispered.

He dropped his head and touched his lips to mine.

Then he lifted it and didn’t shut up.

He kept muttering.

“Another layer, I lay my shit out, all of it, it’s ugly and she ends that by bein’ cute.”

“Shut up.”

“And bossy.”

“Shut up.”

“Bossy and a cry baby.”

“Shut up!” I snapped then finished, “And kiss me, for goodness sakes.”

His lips dropped to mine where he said, “That, baby, you be bossy and that I’ll do.”

Then Tack slanted his head and did it.

Hard, wet, wild and thorough.

When he lifted his head, I was dazed, I was happy, later was over, my man loved me, I had it all and Tack said, “Now you can have coffee.”