Own the Wind

Chapter Thirteen

Home No Longer

Three days later…

I drove into the forecourt of Ride, scanning the space. I saw Shy’s bike, Dad’s bike, Big Petey’s Trike, and Tyra’s Mustang.

“Excellent,” I muttered under my breath, irately. “The gang’s all here.”

Suffice it to say, I was in a mood.

This mood had part to do with the fact that I just got off work and, in my absence, Dr. Dickhead had not taken time to reflect on the error of his ways (not a surprise). I wasn’t his sole target anymore but he was worse than before, so it still felt the same. The problem was, now that I’d jacked them around, I felt I had to prove that I was stable, they could count on me, and part of doing that wasn’t moaning about a douchebag doctor right after I put them through the hassle and expense of an unnecessary hiring process.

This mood also had to do with the fact that Natalie still hadn’t called, even though I’d phoned her every day since she took off.

And last, this mood had to do with the fact that neither Dad nor Tyra had returned my calls, calls I’d made repeatedly, and that ticked me off.

Although Tyra and Dad were not taking my calls, Rush called me, reamed my ass for ten full minutes without letting me get a word in, saying some crap about Shy I was trying to block out so I would maybe be able to forgive him sometime in the distant future, then he hung up.

Hung up!

On me!

I’d called Big Petey and asked him why in the hell he talked to Dad before he talked to me.

“Honeybunch, this kinda shit, I know your dad, he’d wanna know,” he explained to me.

“Pete, this kinda shit, you think maybe there’s a reason he doesn’t know and the only people who can explain that reason would be Shy or me?”

“I weighed my actions, Tabby, and in the end did the right thing,” Pete replied and I knew he had his back up at my tone because, although he was a great guy, I adored him and he adored me, his ass was stubborn. Not to mention, he was a biker and not a young one. He wasn’t used to women giving him crap, thus the reason he’d been divorced (three times).

“Well, you would be wrong,” I told him before I hung up on him.

That was yesterday, two days of messages that went unreturned from Dad and Tyra, Rush’s tirade, and Natalie’s continuing grudge. And this didn’t even include the fact that Shy was trying to gloss over things were not so great at Chaos for him. Not that he’d come right out and said that, but I could tell by the look on his face and his mood.

The brothers were about as pleased as Dad upon the news spreading that there was a Shy and me, and when those men got ticked off about something, they didn’t go gab with their psychologists about it. All hell broke loose.

So by the time I got Pete on the phone, I was over it.

Now I was totally over it.

Yes, okay, Shy was a brother, I was the president’s daughter, this had ripple effects on the family.

But, to coin Shy’s phrase, I was twenty-three years old, and I really did not have to report to my Dad, stepmom, and extended motorcycle family who I was fucking.

Seriously!

So I was raring to go when, still wearing my scrubs, I stomped up the steps to the office and stormed right in.

Fortunately, I saw my little brothers Rider and Cutter weren’t there, like they often were, hanging with their mom while she worked.

This was the only good thing.

The bad thing was Tyra turning to the door with a smile then seeing it was me. Her face went blank, her mouth set, and she lifted a hand and announced, “Tabby, I was hoping you were getting the message when I didn’t pick up your calls. I need a few more days to process what you’ve done before I talk to you.”

She could not be serious.

She was talking to me like I was sixteen.

Uh-uh.

No way.

I stared at her in her cute little top and I knew she had a slim, smart but tight skirt and high heels on behind the desk that hid her. Even after years as the office manager of Ride, a garage run by bikers, she didn’t give up her professional sex-kitten look. I knew Dad (and all the other guys) totally dug it. I also knew, staring at her right then, that was a look I had once adopted. Another phase, the phase I was in when I was with Jason. A phase that was Tyra, not me.

I walked fully in, closing the door behind me, stopped a couple feet from her desk, and repeated, “You need a few more days to process what I’ve done?”

Her eyes narrowed on me and I knew she was pissed but I also knew I was more pissed.

“You heard me,” she replied.

“Oh yeah, I did. I just don’t understand you. What, exactly, have I done?”

Her head jerked with anger before her eyes got big and she stated, “You lied to your dad and me.”

“When did I do that?” I asked. I saw her nose scrunch, it was cute but it was also an indication of anger.

“Don’t be smart—you know lying by omission is the same thing as lying.”

“Okay, now that you’re talking to me, tell me, when did we go back in time, because as far as I know, I’m twenty-three, I have a college degree, a job, an apartment, a dead fiancé, and a man in my bed. So I kinda wanna know why you’re talking to me like I’m sixteen.”

Her voice got quiet when she warned, “Be careful, Tabby.”

“Fuck careful, Tyra.”

She blinked. I’d never talked to her like that. Heck, I didn’t know if I’d ever talked to anyone like that. Actually, I never thought I would, not to Tyra, we were that tight.

But in this instance, having had days to think on it (okay, stew on it), I knew she was in the wrong and I was in the right.

I didn’t respond to her surprise.

I kept going.

“How dare you?” I asked.

“Pardon?” she asked back, but quietly.

“How dare you think you deserve to know who I’m sleeping with when I want to keep that private, between him and me, be happy for a little while, just get used to him, the relationship we’re building, the life we’re going to share? How dare you think that is not my choice to make but it’s yours or Dad’s or anybody’s? How dare you not take my calls like you’re putting me in the naughty corner when Dad’s pissed, on a rampage, and something this important is on the line? And how dare you sit there and act like I owe you pieces of me that are not yours to own unless I deem them something I wish to share, like who’s in my bed?”

She stared up at me, lips parted.

I was so angry, I refused to register her hurt. I kept talking.

“You wanna know why we didn’t share?” I leaned toward her and threw out an arm in the direction of the Compound. “That’s why. We both knew that would happen, Tyra, and we were so fucking happy, we wanted a piece of that before we had to face your judgment.”

“Tabby,” she started, standing from her chair and I was right—tight, smart, sex-kitten skirt. “Shy is—”

My hand shot up. “Stop right there,” I snapped. “I’ll warn you now not to say anything you’ll regret. Rush already spouted that shit to me, and the grudge he has to bear from me is currently scheduled to last years. You have no clue what Shy is. You know who knows?” I jerked my thumb toward my chest. “Me!”

“You’ve suffered a grave loss,” she reminded me quietly.

“Yeah, Tyra, a year ago. I had a grave loss a year ago. Now I’m found.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think—”

I cut her off again. “You don’t get to think. Dad doesn’t get to think. Big Petey. Dog. Brick. Boz. Natalie. All you all…” I lifted a hand and circled it in the air before I dropped it “… don’t get to think. I live my life, no matter how much you or Dad or anyone loves me, or how much I love all of you, you don’t get to live my life for me, tell me how to live it or judge me for the decisions I make. I know what I have with Shy. Shy knows what he has with me. If I thought I wouldn’t be facing this, right here, with you, explaining why I fell in love with the man I love, I would have shared with you while I was falling in love with the man I love. And, frankly, Tyra, you’re my stepmom but you’re also my friend, I thought a true friend who got me, and not only did I miss sharing that with you, it hurt when the time was forced on us to share and you wouldn’t let me.”

She flinched.

“But I’ll give you a tidbit. He’s good to me. When I say he’s good to me, Tyra, I mean he’s good to me. He’s good for me. He doesn’t care if I ruin dinner. He doesn’t care that I talk too much. He thinks I’m the shit, and you know why I know that?” I leaned into her and didn’t wait for an answer. “Because he tells me. All the fucking time. I’m precious to him and I know it because he shows me and he tells me. It’s beautiful. It’s real. It’s right. And, if you’ll think back, I knew all of that and shared it with you when it started happening. It was too soon then, that’s true, I wasn’t ready. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

She started to round the desk, eyes on me, speaking carefully, “Honey, you can get confused and I think—”

Oh God.

Seriously?

“No,” I whispered. “Don’t say another word.”

She stopped moving and talking.

I didn’t.

I moved to the door and turned to her.

“You know, I’m not pissed because you worry about me and you’d act on that even if you do it judgmentally. I know you’re in the middle. You love me but you’re Dad’s old lady and your loyalty is with him, you have to take his back in what he’s feeling and stand at his side when he does what he feels he has to do. That said, you should know the reason I’m pissed is because you and Dad and even the guys, you didn’t even give him a chance.” Her face paled, I knew my aim was true but I still drove that home. “You didn’t give him a chance.”

I saw her face soften when that sunk in then I went in for the kill.

“You know you’re Dad’s one-and-only, Tyra, and if you don’t know this, seeing as he had kids before he met you, I’m sorry to tell you but even though you’re his one-and-only now, you weren’t his one -and-only.”

Her head jerked, she flinched, and I finally saw it.

Understanding.

“You feel me,” I said softy. “I get I’m not Shy’s one -and -only but I still… fucking… am.”

I pulled open the door, moved through it, and turned back.

“I’ll leave you with this, since you all are so up in Shy’s business. How many women has he fucked since he came into my life? You can think hard and you can ask around, but I know the answer. Two. A woman named Rosalie and me. People change, Tyra, he changed, and part of that change was for me. If you don’t see that as beautiful, then you’re fucking blind.”

On that, I slammed the door and stormed down the steps toward the Compound.

I gave Tyra an earful, now Dad was going to get one, and if I had any fire left, I was going to lay into Big Petey.

I heard the door to the office open behind me and my name called but I was in Crocs. She was in heels. No way she was going to catch me.

I raced across the forecourt and felt the vibe the minute I opened the door to the Compound. Bikers had auras, and even at rest they forced out other auras, they were so badass dominant.

Now, they were not at rest and the vibe inside the Compound was so far from happy, it was unreal.

I didn’t care because I had an idea of why and that was not happening.

I stormed in and saw the bad vibe was centering around a faceoff with Shy and Dad in the common area with all the men at Dad’s back.

All of them.

“What the hell is going on?” I snapped loudly, and all eyes came to me, including Dad’s and Shy’s, and those two, scarily, had been nose to nose.

“Compound’s closed to anyone but brothers,” Dog growled, moving toward me.

“You put one hand on me, I swear to God, Dog, I will never even look at you again, and ask Shy, he knows I hold a mean grudge,” I told him, my voice lethal.

Dog rocked to a halt, his expression ferocious then he turned to Dad, as I heard Tyra’s heels clicking up behind me.

I didn’t turn to her or look at Dad.

I looked at Shy.

“Are you okay?”

“Babe, go home. I’ll be there in a while,” Shy said quietly.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I told him.

“Then no, I’m not okay,” he gave me the answer I already knew. “So do me a favor, honey. Go home. I’ll be there in a while.”

He was not okay. I was not going anywhere.

I looked at Dad.

“Why is Shy not okay?” I asked Dad.

“Club business, Tabby,” Dad said to me.

“And how does Club business make Shy not okay?” I asked.

“You wanna know, Tab?” Boz, one of the members cut in. “Not cool, daughters aren’t safe. Daughters are always safe and Shy should know that.”

“And how am I not safe?” I shot back. Boz’s chin jerked but he didn’t speak. “Apparently you have no answer to that, seeing as I’m standing right here”—I swung my arm out to the floor under me—“obviously totally safe, healthy, and, by the way, even though you didn’t ask, also deliriously happy but, I’ll point out again, you, not any of you, asked.”

“Tab. Out. Now,” Dad growled.

“Meeting. Vote,” Arlo put in, and my stomach twisted.

That was not good.

“Oh no,” Tyra whispered behind me.

Yep, not good.

“Vote about what?” I asked.

“Club business, Tabitha, move your ass out,” Dad clipped.

Oh no, that “Tabitha” business was not going to work on me. Four years ago, yes.

Now, absolutely not.

“Vote about what, Dad?” I clipped back.

“Shy, she’s yours, that’s what you say. Control your woman,” High demanded. “Get her ass out.”

My eyes went to Shy to see him looking at High, and he wasn’t looking pissed.

He was looking reflective.

Then he said, “Tab and I don’t play it that way. You wanna order your old lady around, do what you do, not for me to say. I asked her to go, she didn’t go. Not gonna make her. But you try, you’ll deal with me.”

God, I loved my guy.

“She don’t mind you?” Boz asked, brows to his hairline but Shy ignored him and looked to Dad.

“Vote,” he agreed, and my throat got so tight, I suddenly was having trouble breathing. What he said next didn’t make it any better. “You want my cut, vote doesn’t swing my way, I’ll leave it with you and you’ll see the back of my bike. I’ll black out the Chaos ink. What I won’t do is give up your daughter. So fuckin’ vote. You don’t want me there, text me the results and send a man to pick up my cut. You know where I’ll be. I’ll be with Tabby.”

Oh God. Shy’s cut, any of the boys’ cuts, were held sacred to them. They were given the leather jacket with the Chaos patch on the back upon induction to the Club. Their “cut.”

Once they earned it, they never gave it up.

Never.

Not for anything. Not unless forced, say, should they do something heinous to get kicked out of the Club.

“No. No, no, no,” Tyra breathed behind me, but I couldn’t move or speak.

“You’d give up your brothers for a woman?” Brick asked incredulously and Shy’s eyes moved to him.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“Seriously?” Boz asked.

“Not any woman,” Shy nodded my way then invited, “Now, ask again.”

God.

God!

God, I loved my guy.

“Holy fuck,” Tug whispered.

Shy looked at Dad. “You vote. Let me know. But you move to take my family from me, Tack, know this, you’re dead to me. Tab loves me, it’ll suck for her to have a man separate from her family but she’ll deal. But you call this vote, no matter which way it goes, you will be dead to me.”

Oh my God.

“No. No, no, no,” Tyra breathed again.

“Shy,” I forced out.

He ignored me and his eyes moved through the men standing behind my Dad. “I do not get in your business. I might make a call about what you do and who you fuck but I keep that shit to myself. And some of your shit is almost as close to home”—his eyes pinpointed Hop—“and you know it.”

What did that mean?

Shy didn’t explain but he did continue to look through the men and speak.

“Not once has this Club had a sit-down about how they feel about who a brother has in his bed. Tack calls that sit-down, you boys sit down, I’ll say now, it doesn’t matter how the vote goes. You sit down, your message will be clear. You’ll get my cut. Part of bein’ in this family is me bein’ free to be me. Not me answering to my brothers about the woman I fall in love with or, actually, any-fucking-thing. You take my freedom away from me, there is no longer any reason for me to be here. So I won’t be.”

Shy looked back at Dad.

“Just so I’m clear, if you make it Tab or my cut, I pick Tab. You’ll get my cut and you, personally, will not ever, brother, not ever again see me.”

“Well, fuckin’ hell,” a familiar voice I hadn’t heard in years and wished it had been decades said from behind me. “I’m gone for-freakin’-ever and it looks like Tabby’s still causin’ mayhem and heartbreak.”

Woodenly, I turned to see my mother, defying all reason because I knew that not only Dad but all of Chaos threw down with her and told her she was banned from their property.

I felt the unhappy vibe ratchet up to apocalyptic levels then I felt movement, looked over my shoulder, saw Dad shifting toward Mom but Shy was already on the move.

I’d never seen anyone move that fast.

One second he was six feet behind me, the next he was passing me.

I knew why. Even though it happened well before Shy and I hooked up, all the brothers knew my mom and I didn’t get along. They knew how she tore me down. They knew how relentless she was with that. They knew the hateful things she’d said to me, done to me, how it made me feel and how it made me act out when I was younger.

It was my doing, my fault, but it was my mom who made me feel like nothing, and then I found myself at sixteen with a boyfriend way too old for me who hit me when I didn’t put out.

It wasn’t just me. Mom threw down with Tyra, they even had a catfight in the forecourt of Ride, and she was always a screaming bitch to Dad.

In the end, she tried to sell custody of me and Rush to Dad in order to get her now-dead husband out of debt with drug dealers. I wasn’t supposed to know that, but family talked and Chaos was family, so I found out. Dad had made the deal in order to get her out of our lives, mine especially, because her abuse cut me that deep.

Dad succeeded. She’d disappeared. But her memory lingered.

As for me, everyone in the Club knew if it wasn’t for their love, Dad’s love, Tyra’s, things might have gone differently for me. Acting out against the unrelenting cruelty from Mom, I was on the wrong path and if I didn’t have their care, right now, I could be like Natalie, coked up or doing ice, hanging with people that were no good for me.

Or worse.

I knew this. Everyone knew this.

And my man loved me.

With him advancing on Mom the way he did, I would get an indication of just how much.

“She does not…” Shy’s hand hit Mom in the chest and Mom scuttled back, face filled with shock, arms wheeling “… see you…” he shoved Mom straight into the door so her back banged against it loudly before it swung open. Shy pushed her off. She went reeling and Shy finished, “Unless she fuckin’ wants to see you. Heed me, bitch, you are not the mother of my children, so I do not have to go gentle with you. I do not know why the fuck you’re here. I also don’t care. All I know is, Tab does not see you or hear your voice unless she wants to. Now, I can teach you that lesson now or you can get in your fuckin’ car and go. Decision. But remember, not a man in this building will step up for you, so take that into account when you decide how you’re gonna spend the next five seconds.”

I hurried through the still-open door, my mouth open to say something but I didn’t get the chance. Mom stared at Shy for one of those five seconds then she actually raced to her car the other four.

As she slammed her car door, started up, screeched out, and sped away, I looked at Shy’s profile and I pressed my lips together, getting why Mom did not dillydally.

Shy turned to me. I braced. He lifted a hand, hooked me at the back of the head, and pulled me to him.

Lips to my hair, he said quietly, “See you at home.”

I tipped my head back, caught his eyes, and nodded.

He let me go, didn’t look back, sauntered to his bike, and I watched him start it and I kept watching him, my heart racing, my throat burning, my brain not functioning, as he roared off.

“Tabby,” Dad’s rumbly voice came from behind me, and I whirled on him.

I looked up at a handsome face I adored, into eyes I saw in the mirror every day, and before he could say another word, I gave it to him.

“I love you. I couldn’t live without you. But if you take away the only family Shy has outside his brother—” I pulled in breath and finished “—I will never, ever forgive you.”

On that, I turned and raced to my car, running flat out in my Crocs (which, frankly, wasn’t easy). Then I got in it, wasted no time, and drove away from a place that had always been home to me.

But it would be home no longer if they took it from my man.

Therefore, I cried all the way to my apartment, but I sat parked outside, sucked it up, yanked napkins out of my glove compartment, and cleaned up my face before I went upstairs to my place.

Shy’s bike was there, and I had to be strong for my man.

I ran my tongue up the underside of Shy’s cock and was just about to wrap my mouth around the tip when he knifed up. I suddenly was hauled up his body. He rolled us and when he got me on my back, his head came up, his eyes holding mine, he slid slowly inside me.

My eyes drifted half closed and my lips parted.

Shy moved, slowly, his strokes loving caresses. One of his forearms on the bed, his other hand came up to frame the side of my head. He moved his thumb along my hairline, and his eyes held mine as he made love to me.

I pulled my legs back, knees bent, and he slid in deep. As my hands moved over his skin, I lifted my head to get his mouth, and he didn’t make me work for it. He gave me his mouth as he kept slowly, sweetly, beautifully taking me.

After my kiss, his lips slid down my cheek to my ear where he whispered, “Love you, Tabby.”

Oh yes.

I pressed the insides of my thighs to his hips, wrapped my arms tight around him, and whispered in his ear, “Love you too, Shy.”

His mouth moved below my ear and he murmured against my skin, “Everything to me.”

God, God, I loved my guy.

“And you’re everything to me,” I breathed then suddenly, out of the blue, it came over me. Fierce and huge, I cried out and sunk my teeth into the skin of his neck.

He kept taking me through my climax and when I was done, he lifted his torso from mine, giving himself more leverage to slam his hips into me. He moved his hand over my cheek, his fingers drifting over my mouth, then down to my jaw, my neck, my chest, where it curled around my breast.

All the while, his eyes never left my face.

He was, quite simply, beautiful.

His strokes deepened, got faster, his face darkened, and I knew it was building for him, so I lifted my hands and ran my fingertips low over his flat abs. His thumb slid over my nipple, sending shivers through me, and my tongue came out to wet my upper lip.

“Gorgeous,” he growled, pumping faster, harder.

“Yeah,” I agreed breathlessly.

Not me.

Him.

Amazing.

“Fuck,” he grunted, and I knew he was close.

I was right. His head jerked back but his hips kept slamming in, even harder. He kept thrusting as I watched his head drop forward and his teeth sink into his lower lip and, seriously, watching him come nearly took me there again.

Finally, he drove deep, stayed there, and collapsed on top of me.

I took his weight happily, my arms surrounding him, holding him close.

He didn’t make me take it long. He shifted to a forearm and breathed heavily in my ear.

Finally, as his breathing evened, his hand, still curled around my breast and crushed between us, slid up to my neck. He lifted his head and looked at me.

“Like you comin’ with me, Tabby,” he said gently.

I knew he did. He tried to make me hold out every time unless he was in the mood to watch. Usually, I could manage this, though I had to admit, sometimes I failed.

“Well, I had no control over that, boss,” I replied quietly. “It came out of the blue but, that said, sometimes I like watching too.”

He grinned, bent his head, touched his mouth to mine and lifted up, still grinning.

Then he asked, “ ‘Boss’?”

“ ‘Biker boss’ is too wordy.”

His grin hit smile level, then he remarked, “You know, no condoms means I don’t have to haul my ass outta bed after just comin’ hard and deal with it. I get to be lazy.”

He was teasing.

This was good and bad. Good because he was obviously in a mellow mood regardless of what went down that day. Bad because I had a feeling he was searching for that mellow mood, keeping hold of us and only us so he wouldn’t have to think about what went down.

“You could be a gentleman and haul your ass out of bed anyway in order to get a washcloth and take care of me,” I suggested, and something hot and phenomenal moved through his eyes even as his hips gave a slight jerk and his face got closer to mine.

“You want me to do that?” he asked.

I was being flippant, going with his mood but suddenly, I wanted him to do that. Like, a lot.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

His face got closer so he could kiss me, wet and deep. Then he lifted his head to watch my face as he slowly slid out. I gave him a show I suspected was a lot like what he gave me when I was sliding him out of me. Then he bent, kissed my chest, the underside of my jaw, and he rolled out of bed.

I shifted to my side, curled up, and watched him move to the bathroom. I stayed where I was so I could watch him coming back.

He climbed in, settling on his side in front of me and ordered softly, “Hitch your leg over my hip, baby.”

I did as he told me. His body shifted slightly but his eyes never left my face, and I felt the warm washcloth between my legs.

It felt nice.

I knew this registered on my face when he leaned in closer. “You like that.”

It was a statement.

My hips pressed into his hand. “Yeah.”

His head slid even closer, his lips hit mine, and his tongue slid in my mouth. The washcloth moved between my legs, then Shy shifted it somehow and there was no washcloth, just his fingers between my legs. He slid one finger inside and I moaned into his mouth, my hips twitching. I moaned again when his finger slid out and lightly glided over my clit before it and the washcloth were gone.

He lifted his lips from mine. “Be back, sugar.”

I held his eyes and nodded.

His lips curved and he rolled off the bed.

Repeat of lying there, happily, watching him leave and come back but this time, when he slid in beside me, he settled on his back. He pulled me over him so my chest was to his chest, my cheek was to his shoulder, my face in his neck, and his arm was around me, hand cupping the cheek of my behind.

“We’re doin’ that every time,” he declared, and I smiled.

“Works for me.”

His fingers at my bottom squeezed.

I pulled in breath and trailed my fingers along his opposite shoulder.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Healthy or unhealthy, I’m not gonna think about it now,” he answered instantly. “Just came. Just shared something special with my girl. You’re naked on me. Gonna think about that. What happens will happen. I’ll deal with it then.”

“Okay,” I said softly.

His other arm curled around my back.

I looked for something else to talk about, and something came to mind I’d wanted to ask him since he mentioned his grandmother days ago. It might not be the best conversational gambit, but at least it wasn’t talk of what was happening at Chaos.

Still, I requested first, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” he replied immediately, and I smiled into his neck.

“May not be fun,” I warned quietly and his arms gave me a squeeze.

“Not always gonna be fun, baby. Ask anyway.”

I nodded, my cheek sliding against his skin then I asked, “Why didn’t you go to your grandparents after your folks died?”

His arm around my back moved up, his fingers tangling in my hair then drifting through before he answered.

“Don’t know. Mom and Dad made provisions. They picked my uncle. I figure they didn’t get my uncle was weak or they never woulda left us to that. Mom didn’t have any brothers or sisters. Her mom and dad were divorced. Gramps lived up in Wyoming. Mom grew up there until her folks divorced, and Grams moved them down to Denver ’cause she found a job here. Grams was cool, she was also around, took Lan and me to dinner, out to do shit. We never shared how bad it was ’cause we were kids. We didn’t know how, and by the time we could the damage was done. That said, I think she knew shit was not good ’cause she was around as often as she could be. Gramps was cool too. He wasn’t around as much ’cause he was in Wyoming. But he came down, got me my first bike for my fourteenth birthday, a dirt bike. He also gave me my first Harley, bought it thirdhand from a friend, fixed it up, got a buddy to help him bring it down to me. I’m still tight with both of ’em, even though he’s still up in Wyoming and she moved to Arizona a few years ago. Dad’s parents moved to California when he was in college. We didn’t see ’em as much and still don’t.”

“Until you mentioned your grams the other day, I’d never heard you mention them,” I noted.

“There’s no reason for that, sugar. They just never came up.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and offered, “You get to a place where you can take some time off, I’ll drive you up to meet my gramps. He’ll like you.”

“That’ll be cool,” I replied softly.

“Maybe, if Lan can get the time, we can all go down to Arizona this winter. Get away from the cold. See Grams.”

I smiled again. “That’ll be cool too.”

“It’s a plan,” he muttered.

Yeah, it was.

I pressed closer, took in a deep breath, then said what I had to say to get it out of the way, “You don’t wanna talk about it, we won’t. I’m just going to say, I’m gonna have a chat with Dad—”

He closed his arms tight around me and cut me off by saying, “Tabby, baby, look at me.”

I lifted my head to look at him and I saw his eyes serious on me.

“He’s gotta decide, as my brother, if he trusts me. Not you gettin’ in his face and puttin’ pressure on, not you takin’ time to explain it rationally. I made the decision I wanted to join. I approached them. When I did, I put myself out there so, before they took me on, they knew everything about me. I did my time as a recruit. I do my part at the shop and in the garage. I take my orders when they come and I have never questioned them. When I get the call, I take a brother’s back and I never question that either. I have not given them one reason to question me. I get where your father is at. I also know he’s gotta get his shit together, think this through as a brother as well as a father and make the right decision. What I said at the Compound today is the God’s-honest truth. I didn’t become a member of the Club to have anyone tellin’ me how to live my life. So that’s a brother thing, Tab, and, it sucks if you don’t like it but that’s how it’s gotta be.”

I lived the life all my life, I knew enough to know this was true, so I nodded.

Shy kept going. “More, he’s gotta come to terms with the fact that his only girl is all grown up and he’s gotta give her the freedom to live her own life. What he’s doin’ to me is uncool. I get him bein’ angry. He thought we were hidin’ for the wrong reasons. But what he’s doin’ to you is more uncool. What he needs to get is that there are now parts of your life that are none of his business. I am not a father. I don’t know how it feels to let go of a child in that way, especially your only girl. What I do know is, I acted on assumptions about shit about you years after it happened, it was wrong and… justified… I lost you. Now, he’s doin’ the same thing seven fuckin’ years after it happened, and he’s gotta clue in you’re not that girl pullin’ shit because things with your mom are extreme. You’re an adult making decisions about your future, and you get to decide when you’ll share.”

That was the damned truth.

“You’re right,” I agreed.

“Yeah,” he replied quietly.

“Okay, I’ll let it be,” I gave in, and his lips curved as his eyes got soft and his arms gave me a squeeze.

“Thanks, baby.”

I smiled at him. Then I tipped my head to the side and asked, “What was that with Hop at the Compound?”

His eyes held mine, he waited a beat, then he shared, “Hop is nailin’ Lanie.”

I blinked.

Lanie was Tyra’s best friend. Lanie was the one who lost her fiancé when all that crazy stuff went down that eventually got Tyra kidnapped and stabbed. Lanie had moved to Connecticut to lick her wounds after Elliott, her fiancé, got whacked and Lanie got shot. She did that until Tyra flew out there, gave her some honesty, and then Lanie moved back.

Lanie was tall, slender, and model gorgeous. She also made a lot of money, she ran her own advertising agency, was pure class, and could be (frequently) pure drama.

What she was not, in any way, was Hop’s type.

“You’re kidding me,” I breathed.

“Nope. They’re hidin’ it too. Don’t know why, but I do know neither Tack nor Cherry know shit.” He grinned. “Not the same as bangin’ one of the brother’s daughters, but figure they’re hidin’ it for a reason. Also, whatever they got is not runnin’ smooth. I heard them goin’ at it in his room at the Compound. Was in the hall when I saw her strut out, pissed as all fuck, Hop tearin’ out after her, not looking any happier. He saw me so he knows I know. We had a chat, he told me to keep it under wraps, I have not said shit.”

“I… I don’t know what to do with that,” I told him. “Has Lanie been with anyone since that Elliott guy?”

Shy smiled and replied, “I’m not one of her bitches, so I have no clue. I just know he’s had her in his bed a while.”

“Oh God,” I whispered, “Ty-Ty might freak.”

“Don’t know why, he’s a good guy,” Shy remarked.

Hop was a good guy. I loved him. Everyone did. But he also had an ex, Mitzi, and when she became his ex, it got ugly. I was not one of his brothers, so I didn’t know why but it got so ugly it was hard to miss.

“He’s a good brother,” I clarified. “What went down with Mitzi was messy. So messy, no one missed it and definitely not Tyra, seeing as she works there.”

“What went down with Mitzi was deserved by Mitzi. She was a pain in his ass,” Shy returned.

“Shy—” I started, my body tensing.

“Tabby,” he interrupted me. “You know, some shit with the boys, I’m not gonna share. Just know this, a woman doesn’t treat men like us like Mitzi treated Hop. They do, they’ll find themselves where Mitzi is now.”

I studied him, then asked, “Was it bad?”

“Bad enough for him to roam,” he confirmed, and I sucked in breath, shocked at this news.

Hop was a good brother. As I already mentioned, Hop was also a good guy. I liked him. He had his imperfections, everyone did. And it wasn’t unheard of that some of the men would do whatever they wanted with whoever they wanted even if they had an old lady at home.

But I did not think Hop was like that.

“Hop roamed?”

“BeeBee,” Shy grunted, and I sucked in another breath.

BeeBee had not been around for a good long while but the ghost of BeeBee remained, such was the power of BeeBee. I had been a whole lot younger when she used to hang at Chaos, but I’d seen her around and I knew she was a biker groupie.

Her mission, as jacked as it seemed, was to collect every member of the Club, become a notch on their bedposts, the more notches the better.

The old ladies detested her. It wasn’t like Chaos didn’t have biker groupies, but they knew their place and they knew the place an old lady held and never the twain shall meet. That said, I’d been to enough hog roasts to see BeeBee communicating with her eyes, and sometimes with her mouth, she’d had a woman’s man. My guess was, since BeeBee’s tenure was long, the old ladies sucked it up and this never got back to their men. Unfortunately, this could be the way with motorcycle clubs, and old ladies learned when to keep their mouths shut.

That was until BeeBee went head-to-head with Ty-Ty. It kinda grossed me out to know my dad went there (though, admittedly, she was gorgeous with a fabulous body, just skanky) and from the argument I overheard Tyra having with Dad, he and BeeBee had been together before Tyra’s time, but still.

Dad found out BeeBee even looked at Tyra, much less spoke words to her (which she did), sent Dad over the edge.

Exit BeeBee.

Forever.

She was also the example Shy threw in my face way back, that night he was a dick to me. None of that night was pleasant, though it was over and I wasn’t going back there. However, I remembered quite clearly that him even suggesting I was going the way of BeeBee was a hurt that dug deep.

On the exhale, I breathed out, “Oh my God.”

“Yeah. Even I think that play was fucked, but when it happened Hop and Mitzi were on a break, a bad one, the break they had just before all hell broke loose and Hop ended it with Mitzi for good. Enter BeeBee, who could sniff that shit out like nobody. Why Hop took Mitzi back, don’t know. Just know he didn’t take her back for long before it was really over.”

“I’m not sure any of this is good,” I told him.

“I’m not either,” he agreed, then his eyes grew intense on me. “What I am sure of, it’s nobody’s fuckin’ business.”

That, I knew, was very, very true.

His arms gave me a squeeze and his voice went soft when he reminded me, “You got work tomorrow, and we both don’t know what the day will bring. We should get some shut-eye.”

“Yeah,” I whispered then dropped my head to touch my mouth to his.

When I lifted it, he rolled me to his side and reached an arm across me to turn out the light. He settled in and tucked me close.

I snuggled closer.

I was about to enter dreamland when it hit me.

And although near sleep, what hit me, Shy had to know.

“You did it,” I said, my voice quiet and drowsy.

“Did what, sugar?”

“Today, at the Compound, what you said, you did it.”

“What, baby?”

“I dreamed a dream.”

His arms spasmed.

I drifted to sleep, muttering, “You promised to get me to a dream, you got me to a dream. Thank you, honey.”

Then I fell asleep.

Shy

Shy Cage did not sleep.

He held his slumbering girl in his arms and he struggled with the urge to howl at the moon.

It took a while to control that urge.

Then, no matter the shit that went down that day, Shy fell asleep smiling.