Honey Whiskey (A Bastards MC Novel) (13 page)

Her 'wannabe gang-banger'
boyfriend and a couple of his buddies jumped out, guns waving,
shouting at us. The fight was over before it began. Kids that
couldn’t even figure out how to make their pants stay around their
waist shouldn’t play with guns, and they really shouldn’t threaten
a group of pissed off bikers. In minutes, Mom and her boyfriend
were cable-tied and forced into the back of her car, and their
friends were beaten unconscious, duct taped, and thrown into the
truck. Someone that helps an abuser is just as fucking guilty as
the abuser.

That had been Sunday night.
Tomorrow the world would find out that mom had walked up to a
police officer and turned herself in. If she went to trial in a few
months, we’d be sitting front and center—a gentle reminder that she
needed to accept responsibility and take the punishment, or we’d
give her one of our own. I hoped she just plead guilty and save the
state the money a trial would cost. Either way, she was headed away
for a long time.

As for the other three, no one
would ever find their bodies. The friends told us everything we
needed to know, hoping to save their own skins. And the boyfriend?
An easy death was not in the cards for him. He got to experience
what the little boy went through—every single bruise, every single
burn, every single cut. His last few moments were filled with pain,
and before we sent him to meet his maker, remorse filled his eyes.
Ridding the world of one sleaze ball at a time should make me feel
better, but it didn’t. We weren’t able to help the boy until it was
too late.

We were doing what we could now.
Until he was healthy enough to go back to his grandma’s, Bear and
the prospects would take turns sitting at the hospital, silently
watching over the little guy. Not only was their presence to show
our support and make him feel secure, we wanted to make sure that
there was no chance of other gang-bangers getting near him. Rocker
had talked to Grandma, and she knew that we were always just a
phone call away—even if it was only because she needed help to buy
him shoes. They were not alone. He now had hundreds of Bastards at
his back.

I rolled over, pulling Jo with me.
I’d made peace with who I was a long time ago. I’d always be the
monster hiding behind a polite smile and a respectable job. As a
Bastard, it was my job to put a pretty face to the rumored ‘bad
men’ to show that we weren’t evil at all. Jo had only seen that
façade. I didn’t want to let go of her, but I didn’t know how she
would cope with this part of me. Earlier, with three little words
gasped as she came apart beneath me, she had given me hope. Maybe,
if she loved me as much as she claimed, she’d stay. As much as I
wanted her next to me, no secrets between us, I wasn't sure she
could handle it. She was full of goodness, and I couldn’t guarantee
that this life wouldn’t suck it out of her.

I’d never brought anyone in. Becky
knew just enough to realize she wanted no part of it and was happy
being my escape. Taylor, growing up the daughter of one of the most
corrupt senators imaginable, knew who I was before I could tell
her. A man that looked like me and had the money I did was great
arm candy for a spoiled Daddy's girl, but it was the dangerous
Bastard that turned her on. She knew I was a jealous prick that
would kick a man’s ass just for looking at her the wrong way, and
she loved it even more than the designer clothes, luxury cars, and
any other expensive present I could give her.

Jo, my funny, loving, crazy, and
sweet Joes, didn’t want me for any of that. The money made her
uncomfortable, the club made her nervous, and my physical
characteristics intimidated her. She’d told me once that if we
hadn’t had to work together, she never would have looked at me
twice because she thought I was out of her league—that someone like
me would never be friends with her. It amused me that someone who
was obviously way too good for me felt unworthy, and it only made
me love her that much more. She might not know the Bastard, but she
knew a part of me that no one else did—the real me that I hid from
everyone else. Would my role in the Bastards be her breaking point?
I was almost positive it would.

Anger coursed through my veins and
my arms tightened around her. I wished I could let her go. After
she left Billy though, I knew I had to have her. The idea of her
with another asshole, one that might take her away from me
permanently, made me furious. This was where she belonged, right
here in my arms where I could watch over her and keep her safe. Her
eyelashes fluttered against my chest and she wiggled as she opened
her eyes, leaning her head back to see my face. She smiled,
fighting to keep her eyes open. I couldn’t resist leaning over and
nuzzling her. “Hey, baby.”

She sighed into me, pressing her lips to mine.
“Honey, you need to sleep.” The words were no more than a
half-awake murmur. Kissing me once more, she pushed her tits into
my chest, groaning into my mouth when my hands cupped her. She
moved quickly, settling into my side and leaning her head onto my
chest, her hand holding mine. Within seconds, her breath was once
again deep and even. Enjoying her wrapped up in me, knowing she was
right, I closed my eyes and let the quiet take me away. I could
worry about the rest later.

Chapter 13

Jo

I reached for Matty, only
half-awake, but I needed to know he was close. His skin was hot
under my hand, and I instinctively moved toward him, hoping he
would wrap himself around me. I smiled as he shifted towards me,
strong arms enveloping me, and his lips found my
forehead.

It seemed like only seconds later
that he moved again, this time shifting me to the pillow, the
cotton cold against my cheek. I tried to force my eyes open, mind
scrambling. Matt shushed me, though. "Sleep, baby." The bed moved
slightly as he leaned over me and kissed my forehead, whispering,
"I love you, Joes."

When I finally woke up, threw on
some clothes, and stumbled to the kitchen for caffeine, I was
disappointed to find him not only gone, but already at work. I had
wanted to talk to him while he drove, just to help keep him awake.
I also longed to hear his voice for more than a five-minute
conversation. Being around him made me miss the friends that we
used to be.

He'd sent me a very sweet text message,
telling me he wished he was still in my arms, but his meeting
couldn't wait. I smiled thinking about the 'I love you more' that
he'd ended the text with. That would have to tide me over until I
could talk to him tonight.

I sat at the table sipping the
burning hot liquid and staring off into space until Rocker joined
me some time later. I glanced up, concentration broken, surprised
at his appearance. I smiled my greeting, unsure of what to say. He
nodded back.

"I'm glad you're home. It's quiet
here without you.

"
Glad to be home." He smiled. "Fuckin' sucks, right? I hate
bein’ heah alone.” He turned his coffee mug around, staring at it
thoughtfully. "'Course, I hate it when it's crowded, too." Looking
up, he caught my eye. "How's the job hunt goin'?"

I scowled. "Not good." Shrugging,
I added, "I'll find something, but I—" The elevator arrived with a
loud ping and we both turned. "Must be Cris. She has today off, and
we decided yesterday that I’d play hookey from class and we'd go
shopping."

The blonde that came around the corner was
definitely not Matty's little sister. I smiled at my new friend
though, and tried to keep the confusion out of my voice. "Good
morning, Jessie."

Rocker had turned back to the table when I
told him who I thought it was, and now visibly stiffened. It was
only for a quick second, and I wondered if I imagined it as he
stood and walked to her, kissing a cheek warmly. "Everything ok at
the shop?"

She nodded, reaching out and
putting her hand on a strong forearm. Her perfect face scrunched in
worry. "You didn't call me last night and when Tank told me you
were back..." She broke off, voice full of concern, and the look on
her face made me feel like I was intruding. "I wanted to check on
you."

"I'm fine." Rocker took a step back, obviously
putting distance between them before he gestured toward me. "Want
coffee?"

Jessie hesitated, confusion clear
on her face. Nodding, she turned to me and sat in the chair next to
his, asking if I'd had a chance to see Matt. I couldn't keep the
smile off my face or the heat from my cheeks as I explained that
he'd come home last night. She smiled sweetly, obviously happy for
me, but there was also a sadness that told me she wished Rocker had
gone to her. I wanted to hug her and slap him
simultaneously.

Rocker called over, asking how she
took her java, and no sooner had she answered than the elevator
arrived again. I stood abruptly, hoping I could run into the
entryway and cut off Cris before she came in, but she was too
quick. Rockstar sunglasses in place and her phone pressed to her
ear, Cris strode into the kitchen like she owned the place,
throwing a giant smile at me.

I saw the exact moment she realized that
Jessie was with me, her steps faltering for just a quick second.
The smile never left her face though, and she threw herself into
the chair next to me as she ended the call, laughing at whoever was
on the other end. Pushing the glasses to the top of her head,
bright blue eyes twinkled at me and I sat back down, mentally
preparing to be a buffer between the two.

"Good morning!" Her voice was
singsongy, immediately putting me on edge. She was too happy. She
turned to Jessie, the smile widening. "Barbie! How are
you?"

Jessie had straightened herself in
her chair, obviously ready for battle. One eyebrow arched perfectly
as she smiled. Leaning forward, she moved her head slightly.
"Princess!" Her fake excitement made me even more nervous than
Cris’s fake happy. "Now that the boys are back, I couldn't be
better. How are you?"

"To be honest, I'm surprised to see you here.
I forgot that little job of yours allows you to come and go
whenever you want." Cris waved her hand dismissively.

Jessie laughed. "Oh, that's just
one of the many perks of sleeping with my boss." I had to keep my
mouth from falling open. "Are you still pretending to work hard at
that gym teaching men how to do that thing? What’s it called again?
Mai Tai?”

Cris tensed next to me, the smile
never leaving her face as she opened her mouth to respond. “It’s
Muay Thai, Barbs. No need to pretend you don’t know the difference.
We all know how much you like your booze. But, don’t worry about
it. All you need to remember is that you can’t handle either Mai
Tai’s or Muay Thai—both will kick your scrawny ass.” I knew we were
in for more than an earful because not only was her job as a
personal trainer difficult, she co-owned the academy where she
taught.

Rocker picked that moment to
practically slam two cups onto the table. As he slid one towards
Cris, he glowered at her. It wasn't lost on me that while he had to
ask Jessie how she took her coffee, or even if she wanted one, he
never asked Cris either question.

The uncomfortable silence that
surrounded us made me realize why I didn't like being around women.
It wasn't that I didn't like my gender. I had some of the best
friends anyone could have. I loved my girl time with Teagan and her
daughters, my lunch dates with Becky, my one-on-ones with Cris, and
even looked forward to expanding my friendship with Jessie. In most
situations, though, I would take being stuck with a hundred men
over being stuck with ten women any day of the week. We were so
catty. Everything was a frigging competition.

I inwardly rolled my eyes at the
looks Jessie and Cris were sending each other whenever Rob looked
away. Did he not know that they hated each other and were acting
this way because of him? If he did know, did he even care? I felt
awful for all three of them. It was a messy situation. I could see
how uncomfortable he was. I wished could read minds because I
wanted to know what he was thinking. Needing to free myself from
this mess, I stood up and grabbed my cup and the one Cris was
using.

I ignored her quiet "Hey!" and carried them to
the sink, beckoning her to follow me. "We'll catch you guys later,
ok?" With that, I bounced down the stairs.

*****

We'd not only gotten in some
retail therapy, but also some hot boy oogling. After spending the
morning shopping for nothing in particular, we'd decided to go to
the movies to see Captain America, Winter Soldier. How can any
hot-blooded female be stressed after watching Chris Evans look
adorable while saving the world? Once back at the apartment, Cris
sat at the table while I prepared dinner, and we gushed over the
men in the movie and how kick ass Scarlet Johansson was. That woman
was more terrifying than half the men I knew. She didn’t have to
depend on someone else to save her. I was just a bit envious. I
wanted to be that strong—emotionally and physically.

"It really wouldn't take that
long, just some dedication." Cris shook her head when I opened my
mouth to argue. "Seriously, you should know how to protect
yourself!"

I smiled as I scrapped the chopped
onion into the salad bowl. "I do know how to protect myself, silly.
It's called mace and I carry it everywhere. But, I’d love to be
just as scary as the black widow." It wasn't the first time I'd
said it today, and ever since I mentioned it, Cris had been trying
to get me to go to her gym. She claimed her type of kickboxing
would be a good sport for me to pick up, and if I didn’t want to
learn it, then I should at least take a martial arts class or two.
I just wanted to know how to throw a punch and have it hurt my
intended target without it hurting me. Being able to defend myself
wouldn’t be a bad thing, either.