Out of the Ashes (15 page)

He didn’t wait to see what he did; he had church.

He saw, once he made it to the room that had become his place of worship, he was the last to arrive. The look on his brothers’ faces communicated that this was a rare occurrence. He ignored this. His glower stayed in place, although he gave a chin lift to Cade.

Cade nodded back. “Brother,” he greeted.

Bull took his place at his left. Brock was at his right, Steg beside him. Steg had stepped down as president after being shot; considering the fact he almost died, he was in no state to ride for months. Not being able to ride meant not being able to rule. Cade had stepped up. It had been almost two years since, and Cade had continued to be president even after Steg had recovered. Bull had half expected that to turn sour, considering the bad blood brewing between them before. But for some reason it hadn’t. Steg seemed content, and the club was running well under Cade’s rule. Running legit.

“Now that we’re all here, we need to get straight to business,” Cade addressed the room. “We all know that another club over in Hope has been testing our boundaries, looking to extend their patch.” He paused, leaning forward to clasp his hands together. “Up until now they’ve been nothing but a vague annoyance, one that is easily ignored.” He stopped again, looking around the table. “Unfortunately, they have upgraded themselves to a pain in my ass. Not only does it seem like they’re recruiting solely to gain numbers, which is worrying in itself, it seems the fuckers have been trying to push product within our town,” he declared tightly.

Bull’s fists clenched. Even though the Sons were legit, or as legit as they could be, that did not mean other clubs could get away with shit. It was known, widely fuckin’ known within all MCs, that the Sons did not tolerate drugs being sold in Amber. It was a policy strictly enforced throughout the years. To do so, especially by another MC, was tantamount to a declaration of war.

“You’re fuckin’ shitting me,” Asher bit out from down the table.

Lucky shook his head. “Got word a couple of hours ago. Their patch was seen doing a deal at the lumber yard.” He flexed his knuckles. “Had a... conversation with the foreman. It seems his workers have been purchasing product for fuckin’
weeks.”

There were hisses around the table. This was an ultimate disrespect. The club may not run guns anymore, but they were
not
to be fucked with.

“We’re not letting this shit stand,” Brock said evenly.

“Too fuckin’ right we’re not,” Steg added roughly. “This pissant club is going to regret the day they put on their cuts. You do not fuck with us.”

Nods around the table.

“Steg’s right,” Cade said, his face blank. “Goes without saying we gotta play this smart. ATF may not be up our asses anymore, but we’re still on their Christmas card list. No to mention that fucker Crawford would love to get us locked up over unpaid parking tickets, if he could.” Cade looked around once more, his eyes settling on Bull. “We’re doing this smart,” he repeated. “But we’ll make sure these fuckers get the message.”

With that declaration, they discussed strategies and plans. Once that was done, Cade dismissed his brothers. Bull stood to leave; he would never say it out loud, but he was almost happy this shit was going down. He needed it. Needed to pummel out his anger on these pissants. He needed to focus on something other than a blonde with a sweet cunt.

“Bull,” Cade called before he could leave. “A word,” he requested.

Bull nodded and moved back to his seat as the boys filtered out.

Cade stared at him once the room had emptied. Bull didn’t say anything. Cade was used to it. He didn’t speak when he didn’t have to. Mostly because he was focusing on the shit inside his head. On the demons. Those fuckers were quiet at the moment, but they were still there, waiting.

“You good, brother?” Cade started, watching him.

Bull nodded. “I’ll be better when I get to teach those bastards a lesson,” he said, referring to the mission.

Cade nodded distractedly. “Yeah well, they’ll get taught.” He paused. “I’m talking about you nearly rearranging Lucky’s face yesterday.”

Bull stiffened. He said nothing.

“You want to tell me what that was about?” Cade asked evenly.

“Nothing,” Bull bit out.

Cade regarded him. “So it wasn’t about Mia?”

Bull’s fists clenched. He didn’t need her name spoken here. Not in this room.

“All due respect, Prez, you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about and I’d appreciate if you don’t say her name again,” he ground out.

Cade’s eyes flared slightly, but otherwise he didn’t react. “Not looking to get my face rearranged either, brother, just looking out for you,” he said carefully. “She’s nice. Her kid too. It’s okay, you know, to move on...”

Bull pushed out of his chair. “This conversation is done,” he grunted, having to hold himself back from grasping his president and his best friend by the collar.

Cade stood too. His normally emotionless face was troubled and he was looking at him in concern.

This bristled Bull that much more. He didn’t need that fuckin’ look. He loathed to see that on Cade’s face. It made him feel weak. He knew what his brother had done for him. What his Old Lady had done. Pulled him back from the brink. When he had been preparing to meet the Devil, to give in to the demons, Cade had yanked him back from the edge. He wasn’t thankful at the time. Sometimes he hated his brother for making him continue the fight, other times, like right now, was angry for another reason. For thinking there might be another reason to continue, other than the club. Her.

I tapped my pencil down on my desk impatiently. I was in a bad mood. This was unusual. Once I had dragged myself out of my very own living Hell, I made it my mission to be happy. To be positive. Have a sense of humor. It helped I had a beautiful daughter to keep me looking at the glass half full. I was also stubborn. So through money problems, fear and all sorts of other things life threw at me, I managed to look on the bright side and try to make the best of it. I had it pretty good. I had friends, Steve and Ava, and I had Lexie. The dark shadow of our life before would always be with me but I learned to turn a blind eye. Apart from making sure he couldn’t find us,
wouldn’t
find us, that shadow didn’t exist. Apart from in my dreams.

So, sitting at my desk in my little office at the hotel, I found it hard to drag myself out from the black cloud I was currently letting infect my life. Nothing particularly bad had happened. It was an accumulation of things. I slept through my alarm. Ran out of coffee. Poked myself in the eye with a mascara wand. Twice. I then spilled my precious Shelly coffee all over my white pants, hence a detour home to change an outfit. And then another detour to replace the coffee. So I was late to work. Then I had to deal with rude guests and staff shortages.

I had hidden myself in the salon, the place where I felt most at home, at peace. I had started in hotels as a maid while working to support Lexie and I and put myself through beauty school. It was hard, really hard. But I did it, and worked as a therapist for years before Steve had promoted me to manager. Although I didn’t miss the backaches from the exertion of giving massages, I missed the feeling of helping to make women feel beautiful.

So that’s how I found myself behind the desk at the salon, sipping a coffee, trying to find my Zen.

“I’m so freaking furious at him!”

I glanced up at hearing the raised voice amongst my Zen music.

“Girl, how you can be furious at a man like that is beyond me. One look at his impressive physique and broody eyes, he’s forgiven for an-y-thing,” a throaty voice replied to the complaint.

My eyes rested on Gwen—I think that was her name—from the store that was way out of my price range but sometimes existed in my dreams. I remembered how nice she had been to Lexie and I, and her accent was pretty unique. She hadn’t properly approached the desk and seemed too into her conversation to notice me.

“Yes, well, trust me—those things have got him away with a lot.” She paused and stopped walking. “A lot,” she repeated meaningfully. “But not this time,” she said firmly.

The woman with her just shook her head knowingly. The woman I did not recognize. And I would have remembered her. She was like a supermodel. Her inky black hair tumbled down her back, shining like she was in a fricking shampoo ad. I wondered if there was a way I could ask her about which products she used without sounding like a weirdo. Her skin was pale and flawless, not needing the expertly applied makeup, though her winged liner that could cut a bitch it was that sharp. She was wearing all black, which would have been harsh on anyone else, but somehow she worked it. Her long, svelte body encased in a tight polo neck dress that finished below her knees, and killer heels with laces creeping up her calves. It made me have a fleeting thought about joining the gym. That didn’t last for long.

Gwen was looking like she had walked out of the pages of
Vogue
. I had to stop myself from drooling at her electric blue Manolos. She was dressed all in white; white cropped high-waisted pants tucked into a silk floaty blouse. A slight baby bump poked out from her pants. Not a stain on her. I wanted to hate her on that alone. My white pants didn’t last an hour.

These women were enough to give me a complex.

Unfortunately, at that moment she jerked out of her conversation and gave me a warm smile.

“Mia! It’s so nice to see you, I totally forgot you managed this place.” She strutted up to the desk, greeting me warmly.

My plan of hating her for her ability to wear white unstained seemed to be lost.

“I’m not usually here, but after the day I’ve had I had to be in a place of calm.” I spread my hands out, gesturing with my coffee cup. “Coffee plus beauty salon equals calm.”

Gwen laughed and her friend leaned on the desk. “Amen to that, although I think we could replace that coffee with something akin to a martini glass,” she suggested thoughtfully. “I’m Lucy. I’m sure you’ll be seeing me around, considering when I’m not at work, Gwen’s store and here are the places I frequent in Amber.” She held up long, mocha-colored nails. “These are not a result of my own practiced hand,” she declared.

I laughed warmly and genuinely. “I’m Mia, and I applaud you for being able to live with those. It’s my dream to have beautiful nails, but I can’t seem to function without breaking them,” I sighed. “I am destined for a lonely life without a decent manicure.”

Lucy laughed again. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve heard. That mug definitely needs to be replaced with a martini glass,” she surmised.

I sighed again. “Unfortunately, being the boss and all, I have to set a good example. I was late and under-caffeinated today, so drinking on the job may not be the best way to round that off,” I told her sadly.

“Well, us girls are having cocktails at Laura Maye’s bar tonight, and by the sounds of it you are in dire need. You’re coming,” Lucy decided firmly.

I was slightly taken aback. Sure these women were nice, but I didn’t expect an invite to cocktails. Not that I didn’t welcome it; I was in serious need of girlfriends. My ones back home were in contact via the phone, but flesh and blood would be good too.

“Actually, that’s a great idea,” Gwen agreed. “I have been hoping to see you and Lexie again. I know what it’s like to move somewhere new, not knowing anyone,” she continued with a smile.

Seriously. How could women this beautiful and stylish be nice? There had to be some sort of catch.

“Well, obviously Lexie can’t do cocktails,” she added.

I waved my hand. “Yeah, she’s already committed to going to a kegger tonight,” I said almost without a thought. I then realized that not everyone had my sense of humor.

The laughter I got relaxed me slightly.

“Awesome, I’ll go there later and do keg stands with her,” Gwen deadpanned, rubbing her belly.

“She learned from her mother, so I warn you, the Force is strong with her.” I sipped my coffee, relaxing into easy banter with someone who didn’t feel like a complete stranger.

Gwen smiled again. “So, cocktails?”

I thought on it. The whole time Lexie and I had been in Amber I hadn’t had the time to go out on the hunt for new friends. Everyone at work was cool, but I was their boss, so it kind of hindered any banter about underage drinking. I also didn’t think having a “fuck buddies” type relationship with my hot, dangerous, biker neighbor counted as making new friends. And this “fuck buddy” type of relationship with my hot biker neighbor was something that definitely needed the help of girlfriends. I hadn’t told any of mine back home and I wasn’t going to go and blurt it to total strangers just yet, but I wouldn’t mind starting to build some new friendships in our new home.

“That actually sounds more than ideal after the day I’ve had,” I replied, thinking longingly about a Long Island Iced tea. “But I’d better check what Lexie is up to.”

Lucy nodded knowingly. “A teenage girl on a Friday night with a house to herself? Recipe for a party,” she said decidedly.

I laughed at that statement. “Lexie is more likely to spend the night making kale chips if she has the night to herself, or watching some film with subtitles,” I told her.

She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

I shrugged my shoulders. “My kid is like a unicorn of the teenage world. She is yet to sneak out, smoke a cigarette or steal a beer. If I didn’t give birth to her myself I would wonder about her genetic connection to me,” I said with a straight face.

Gwen’s face softened and she rubbed her belly once more. “Let’s hope my rascals do not take after me either—” she shuddered slightly, “if they’re anything like I was as a teenager.” Her face brightened. “I’m so glad to have another mum around. I can rack your brain.” She jerked her head to Lucy. “These ones aren’t exactly full of motherly advice and my own is half a world away, so I’m so excited to have another mum in the group.”

I smiled at her. “I made it all up as I went along and I’m pretty sure it was a fluke that Lexie is a well-adjusted young woman. Probably more well-adjusted than her mom, but I’m happy to help in any way I can.” I truly was. Without Ava I would have been lost, considering I didn’t have parental role models to model my own parenting from. I knew how freaking scary it was to be responsible for another human being.

“Well, I will be glad to be talking shoes and sex with Amy and Rosie while you ladies do diapers and formula,” Lucy declared. “We’ve gotta run. It was so nice to meet you Mia—looking forward to meeting your girl, and having a beer chugging race with her.” She waved her freshly manicured fingers at me.

Gwen did the same. “Seven-thirty tonight at Laura Maye’s. I’ll text you,” she said.

“Nice to meet you, see you tonight,” I replied, then my brain caught up. “You don’t have my phone number,” I called in vain, but they were already gone.

Turns out in small towns you didn’t need to give out your phone number to potential friends. Just one biker. Which was what Gwen was explaining. I was two cocktails deep and fully relaxed. So this might be why I didn’t feel a little more alarmed to hear that Gwen and her equally beautiful, equally glamorous friend Amy were married to the two hotties Cade and Brock. It was hard to imagine the petite, chocolate-haired beauty clad in Gucci being with a rough biker like Cade who looked deadly. Ditto with the curvy, red-headed bombshell who was obviously from a lot of money, considering her jewelry and handbag that cost more than my car.

“I already knew you’d met Lucky, considering he wouldn’t shut up about ‘the hot MILF who named her car Betty,’” she explained, sipping her soda. “So got your number off him—small towns. Once one person, namely a big-mouthed biker’s got your digits, they’re practically public domain,” she informed me. Her face was panicked slightly. “I hope you don’t mind,” she added.

I waved my hand. “Not at all. Lucky seriously called me a MILF? That’s so sweet,” I sang, feeling the effects of two very strong cocktails. I frowned slightly. “And I didn’t name my car, my child did,” I clarified, not wanting my glorious new friends to think I was an idiot that named cars. Plus, I was at least ten years older than them. I felt like I needed to at least give the illusion of maturity.