Chapter One
Off-Limits
Fiona
I declined the Facetime call for the second time and texted Abby, asking for a regular call instead.
Her response was practically instant.
No way. Answer the Facetime!
With a headshake, I called her.
“I’m hanging up so I can do our Facetime bit, and I can actually see your face, Fi!”
“No,” I breathed.
Even over the phone, I felt the air become charged. “What the hell’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
Her tone went steely. “Then I definitely want to see your face. If ‘nothing’ is going on that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Fine, but no judgment. Okay?”
“Fiona, I would never judge! Bye!”
The moment I opened Facetime, I knew I should have stuck to my guns. Abby had a sneaky streak a mile wide, and I should have known she wasn’t alone.
The enraged eyes of Abby’s husband, Blood, edged into my phone screen. “Where’s Sal? Tell me he’s gone after the bastard that did this to you?”
I sighed, and immediately wanted to kick myself.
Abby gasped. “You’re joking? Sal? He hit you? You’re supposed to get married next month. Was it an accident? What happened?”
I shrugged, hiding my wince at the sharp ache in my ribs. “He had a moment.”
The screen went blurry as Blood yanked Abby’s phone from her grasp. “Toddlers have ‘moments.’ Sometimes older people have senior ‘moments.’ But grown-ass men do not put their hands on a woman because they’re having a ‘moment.’”
A small smile pulled at my lips, but the pain from my healing cut forced me to stop short. “You’re right, Blood.”
Abby took the phone, but I saw Blood’s lean frame moving behind her, head bent to his phone. Silence stretched between me and my best friend. I hoped she didn’t pity me.
Then Blood said, “Get your shoes, Ab. We’re ridin’ in five minutes.”
I scoffed. “You two aren’t driving seven hours because—”
Blood leaned over Abby’s shoulder with a devious grin. “Four. We’re not in Jacksonville, we’re at her mother’s. Seein’ the damage to your face again, make that three hours. Gonna ride hell for leather, but Sal’s gonna pay, sweetheart.”
I loved how deep Blood’s loyalty ran. Then my eyes widened when I remembered his true loyalty was to the Riot Motorcycle Club. With my past, those men were the last thing I needed.
“Blood! Don’t call your Riot MC brothers.”
His goatee-surrounded lips smiled. “Too late, Fiona. Sent a group text. The Biloxi brothers will get there long before I do. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure Sal gets the message.”
“Damn it, Blood! None of those guys are gonna care. The way I acted after Dad’s death… hell, some of them would probably help Sal finish the job.”
That brought Blood up short, and Abby’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Finish? The job?” Abby demanded.
“He tried to kill you?” Blood asked.
I took in a deep breath, or as deep as my bandaged ribs would allow. “He didn’t say he wanted me dead, but the ER nurse mentioned if he’d kicked me any harder my cracked rib would’ve broken and punctured my lung. In her words, it was as good as wanting me dead.”
“I’ll tell Har not to wade in,” Blood said quickly. Too quickly.
“You will?” Abby and I asked together.
He glanced at his wife, but looked me dead in the eye. “I will. Because Sal’s gonna be all mine.”
Tears pooled in my eyes, but I wouldn’t dare let them run over. Yet, I could hear the emotion in my voice. “Blood, you can’t do that.”
He returned my emotion with the softening of his tone. “Darlin’, you can’t stop me.”
***
One hour later, ten members of the Riot MC Biloxi chapter were crowded into my living room. I knew most of them from before Dad’s death or had seen them at the Memorial run. The few I didn’t know had interesting road names. Roman, Gamble, and Finn.
Each one of them was good-looking in their unique way, but some things never changed. That being Cynic catching my eye and making my heart skip a beat all in the same instant. After almost a decade of not seeing him, it still happened. But he was off-limits. Always had been, really.
He was one of those rare men who knew from eighteen what he wanted, and he got it. Married his high school sweetheart at eighteen, started prospecting with the Riot at nineteen, and was patched in at twenty-one, the earliest the mother chapter allowed it.
I’d crushed on him hard when I was seventeen, but he was married. By now, that lucky woman had to have given him a gaggle of kiddos.
My eyes kept skittering toward him, and I mentally slapped myself for it.
I gave Har a feeble smile. “I’m sorry Blood sounded the alarm. I’m okay, and—”
“And your daddy will rise from the dead to rip my balls off if I don’t do everything I can to right this wrong,” Har said.
I closed my eyes for a moment. “That’s an exaggeration.”
“It isn’t, Fiona. And you’re a far cry from okay, sweetheart.”
“Where’s he at?” Cynic asked, and I looked at him in time to catch the disgusted curl of his lips. “Looks like he lives here, so, where the hell is he?”
I didn’t know why he was disgusted, but I knew better than to leave his question hanging. “I don’t know. I was in the hospital for a day and a half, so…he could’ve packed his bags, but left behind stuff that men don’t care about.”
Har stroked his goatee. “You haven’t heard from him since the attack?”
I shook my head.
He looked at Cynic. “Hope you didn’t have plans tonight, because you’re up first.”
“Don’t see why I have to watch over her,” Cynic grumbled.
“You triggered my woman, man,” Har said.
Har had a woman? Back in the day, that man had more than one woman in a single morning.
“How did I trigger her? Stephie gets riled about any damned thing.”
Har’s frame tensed. “You forget why she moved to town. You acting like any woman ‘deserves’ something is going to trigger her.”
I forced my expression to stay neutral. The Cynic I remembered wouldn’t have said shit like that. Which meant if he said that, he must really think I deserved what I got.
Figured. I couldn’t spot a good man if someone gave me a map and the man held a strobe light to guide my way.
“I didn’t know you were so pussy-whipped.”
Har went rigid. “Earned yourself twenty-four-hour duty here, ’Nic. I’ll send Gamble to relieve you tomorrow night.”
I leaned toward Har. “I hate to chime in here, but why do I have to suffer because Cynic offended you?”
Har turned to me, but the soft expression from earlier was gone. He was all business. “It is far from suffering for you. There’s a reason he’s been our Sergeant-at-Arms for the last seven years. Only person who could protect you better is dead.”
I raised my chin toward the ceiling to get my temper under control. “So, only my father could protect me better?”
Har shook his head. “No. Massive could protect you better than Cynic. But Massive’s dead.”
“Massive? He was… God, he was my age, wasn’t he?”
“We don’t talk about him, woman,” the man named Roman said. His eyes narrowed on me for a moment. “Lift your chin way up again.”
I knew he’d be observant. “Sorry. No can do.”
Cynic closed in on me and I was assaulted by the smell of tobacco. His fingers tilted my chin up and I couldn’t fight the flinch from the tingle of his touch.
“He tried to choke you?” Roman asked.
“He more than tried. To leave a mark behind days later takes serious force,” Cynic said.
“Are you done?” I asked.
He nodded and let go of my chin.
I looked at Har. “Am I stuck with him? For twenty-four hours?”
“I’m standing right here, woman.”
Har nodded.
I gave Cynic a flat look. “Hate to tell you this, but this is a no-smoking house. You’re gonna have to figure out a way to get your fix, but it won’t happen in here.”
More than one man choked or coughed, to hide their laughter.
“You said you were trying to quit,” Roman said, smiling.
“Might be April, but no time like the present to turn over a new leaf, ’Nic,” Brute said, his voice full of glee.
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