Page 36 of Waging War
Jackie’s gaze wanders, and I watch as ten years’ worth of regret seemingly piles onto his shoulders, dragging them down.
“I don’t condone the things I did as a married man, but there was a woman,” he says, losing himself again. “She was incredible in the most damaging way. She was untamed, yet refined. Loud when she wanted to be and poised when she needed to be. A walking contradiction that I couldn’t resist, and to be honest, not a single part of me cared to. Being with her was sinful and blissful, and I don’t regret a moment of her.”
I run my thumb over my chin, resting back against my truck. “Who was she?”
Jackie laughs, the sound low and dangerous. “She was Barron’s old flame, and a woman of Bruce’s who we used for our selfish pleasures.”
My hand stills.
“She shared many of us, but her and Barron had something he felt was special. There was always competition between us, but Lucy and I were in love, and he hated me for it.”
His throat works against an old memory he’s dredged up. “After I’d gotten her pregnant, Diablo had her and the unborn child disposed of.”
Ice-cold air freezes my lungs.
“Couldn’t afford to tarnish our new image,” he says.
I know Diablo is a bastard, and over time, he’s seemed to grow increasingly more threatening, but tomurdera woman and her unborn child… I can’t fathom the kind of monster who would be capable of it.
Terror causes sweat to break across my back. Bruce’s threat toward Cassidy now carries new weight.
He could have had her killed at any moment.
“Jesus, Jackie.” But the swear falls on deaf ears because he’s already gone.
* * *
The annual motorcycle rally begins and ends on the longest stretch of shops and restaurants in downtown Mackville. Brown Street has become somewhat of a staple for passersby and is home to some of the greatest mom-and-pop businesses in East Texas.
Every year, at least twenty different motorcycle clubs ride through to support their charity of choice, and any proceeds from the event get split evenly to donate to each one.
People wander all over the place as I drive about a block past the rally. The plan is to walk Hazel through the alley behind Moe’s to an area where we can sneak through the back without notice.
I cut the engine and shift toward where she’s staring out the window, lost in thought. For several greedy seconds, I allow myself to study the rusty color her hair has turned as the sun shines through it and the softness of her porcelain skin beneath the same light.
“The first set of bikers should be rolling out by now,” I say. “We should probably get going.”
She continues avoiding me, and I have to wonder if she’s scared to see Kenneth for the first time in so long.
Dammit. A rapidly growing void stretches between us, and I’m already missing her taunting. I can’t exactly call what we did intimate, but it was the most honest sex I’ve ever had. Rough, raw, and exactly what we needed. But instead of relieving me, giving into our carnal desires has only left me more insatiable.
There hasn’t been a moment, even now, that I haven’t thought of the little gap between her thighs when she raised her ass in the air or the way her clit glistened as her body prepared her for me.
“Hazel,” I say, a little too strained.
Finally, she drags tormented eyes toward mine.
Say something. Anything.
“We’ve always ridden for The Battered Women’s Justice Project,” she says eventually. The words are quiet, and there’s an absence of the usual flame that burns within her. “My dad and the gang even built a house a few miles away from here where we’ve helped shelter women and children in the past.”
“Noble,” I say, not quite convinced that the Wolves have suddenly turned a new leaf.
“We’re not the monsters you think we are, you know. My father was—” She stops, bringing a hand to her throat. “Isa good man, and so are the other men and women I ride with.”
“If they’re such model citizens, then why are you trying to convince me?”
She narrows her gaze. “I’m not convincing you of anything. I just want you and everyone else to see the good in my rough-edged family. They’re not perfect, but they’re all I’ve got.”
