Page 8 of Fearless
“Stephan!” I called with a wave. “Hey! How are you?”
“Oh! Mariposa.” His pale cheeks flushed a shade of pink. “Hi. Nice to see you.”
I originally met Stephan at Fight Night, the monthly event where the Steel Demons settled conflicts between each other with their fists. As a prospect, Stephan was not an official SDMC member yet and wore no patches. He apprenticed for Jandro at the shop, and was subjected to his hazing. Fight Night gave him a chance to unleash his frustrations back onto Jandro.
Unfortunately for him, Jandro was a better fighter.
“Nice to see you too,” I smiled. “That lip is looking much better.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He reached up to touch his bottom lip, which had nearly returned to normal size. “Thanks to you.”
“So it looks like you,” I turned my gaze to Jandro, “haven’t been abusing him?”
“No, ma’am.” Jandro mimicked Stephan. “Been too busy putting him to work, honestly.”
“Speaking of.” Reaper pulled his cigarettes from his pocket and stuck one in his mouth. “Let’s take five, prospects. Out back.”
Larkan and Stephan exchanged a nervous glance. Reaper just winked at me as he walked through the shop to the outside smoking area in the back. The prospects were quick to follow him, although clearly uneasy about having the president’s undivided attention on them.
“That’s one way to get us alone,” Jandro chuckled, looking down as he arranged some tools in a metal box. He almost seemed nervous too.
“I just hope he’s not a total dick to Larkan,” I glanced toward the plumes of cigarette smoke already filling the air from the back patio.
“He won’t be,” Jandro grinned. “But I’ll bet you every bike in here, he will use Fight Night as an excuse to beat his ass.”
“Ugh. Is that coming up again?” I groaned.
“Next week,” he confirmed with a nod.
“And are you going to use it as another excuse to humiliate Stephan?”
Jandro paused in his steadfast tool rearranging, pinning me with an intense look before answering. “Nah. I’m not fighting anyone this month. Honestly,” he rubbed his jaw, glancing over his shoulder toward the others outside, “I’m really proud of Stephan. I’m gonna advocate for getting him patched in at our next church meeting.”
“Wow,” I breathed. “That’s a big deal, isn’t it?”
“He’ll be a true Steel Demon.” Jandro’s eyes brightened. “He’ll need a better road name than Stephan, that’s for sure.”
“How does that work? Do you guys give him a name or does he pick his own?”
“Depends. If something funny happens to him that warrants a nickname, we’ll give him one. Or if all of his own ideas are dumb as hell.”
“Why don’t you have one?” I asked.
“‘Cause there ain’t no other Jandro,” he grinned.
“You’re right about that.”
I slowly drifted closer to him as we talked. First my upper body swayed, leaning toward him as if carried by gentle breeze, and then my feet followed until I stood right next to him. He watched me with calm, measured interest, staying rooted to his spot.
“So how’ve you been?” My cheeks heated with the question. Reaper and I never really had the awkward small-talk phase in our relationship. But with Jandro, I wasn’t sure how to act.
“Too fucking busy fixing all this shit,” he grumbled, rubbing a hand down his face. “I’ve missed you.”
My heart jumped into my throat at hearing that. When he reached across the short distance between us to rest his fingers on my waist, I had a momentary sensation of floating.
“I’ve missed you too,” I answered, resting my hand on his bicep.
The touch barrier now crossed and miles behind us, he solidified his contact on me, pulling me closer as his other hand joined the first. The muscle under my hand flexed, his skin soothing and warm. This close, I picked up the scent of his soap, something citrusy mixed with a hint of motor oil.
