Page 2 of Wick
I look up at my best friend, and notice his headgear missing. "Where the fuck is your helmet, soldier?"
"You're bleeding heavily, Malik." He tells me ignoring my question as he tries to control the bleeding.
"How bad is it?" I ask because I can't look.
"You got this, Malik. You'll be okay."
"If something happens, and I don't make it, tell my family I love them," I tell him, and the heaviness of my words shows on his face.
Damien looks me straight in the eyes. "Shut up. You are not going to die. Not today, brother." He reassures me, just before a bullet rips through his head.
Chapter One
Wick
Iexit the highway and head in the direction of Twisted Throttle, the bar I co-own with my longtime friend and President to our club, Riggs. The drive from Texas to New Orleans is eight hours. In those eight hours of being alone with my thoughts, I am in no better headspace than I was a week ago when I fled New Orleans to avoid the one woman who has permanently etched herself into my soul. As I pull up in front of the bar, I spot the red KRGT-1 parked between Nova and Fender's bike. I know the smartest thing to do right now would be to turn around and go straight to the clubhouse, but because I love to torture myself, I pull up and park in my usual spot; one of several places reserved for the owners and club members.
Cutting the engine, I stay seated on my bike as I pull a cigarette from my cut and light it. A couple of regular patrons exit the bar and give me a chin lift as they continue down the street. Peering down at my watch, I note it's nearing midnight. Tossing my cigarette to the pavement, I climb off my Midnight Blue custom Fat Bob while ignoring the voice inside my head that urges me to turn my ass around as I stride into the bar. I don't have to seek her out because of how in-tune my body is to hers. My eyes lock on Vayda the second I walk in. As if she can feel my presence, Vayda twists in her seat at the bar and locks eyes with me. Even from across the room, I can see the turmoil swimming in those amber orbs. My fingers twitch at my sides with the need to reach out and touch her. Instead of doing that, I push my needs away and redirect my attention to Riggs who is handling the bar. I won't lie and say the brief look of hurt that crosses Vayda's face doesn't gut me.
When I sidle up to the bar, my brother senses my mood, and without a word or any nagging questions, he passes me a shot of whiskey and a cold beer. I give him a nod, bring the shot to my lips and ignore the burn as the liquor slides down my throat. Closing my eyes, I get lost in the music filling the room. Sitting on the small stage at the other end of the bar is Fender who is strumming away on his guitar.
There are the days when the vortex of hell threatens to open and take me to the depths of eternal damnation; days when my past and my nightmares swallow me whole and remind me of the demons lurking in the shadows. Today is one of those days. I know it's because ofher.Seeing Vayda is a constant reminder of how I failed not only Damien, but her.
Vayda showed up a couple of weeks ago when some shit was going down with the club and Prez's woman Luna. She had decided to stay in town and make herself comfortable at the clubhouse. Vayda Wilder has been a friend to the club for several years, but I've known her since she was a kid. Vayda is the little sister of my childhood friend Damien. Vayda, Damien and I grew up together back home in Texas. We both come from military families. When the Wilder's moved into the house next to mine, Mr. Wilder and my parents became instant friends as did me and Damien. My father and Vayda's also worked together. I was an only child whereas Damien had a sister; Vayda. I soon realized wherever Damien was, Vayda wasn't far behind. It wasn't hard to see; she idolized her big brother. In all honesty Damien's little sister tagging along wherever we went didn't bug me. It didn't take long before she became like a sister to me. When Damien and I played on our high school football team together, she was our biggest cheerleader. Not an actual cheerleader because short skirts and pompoms are not Vayda, but she was the loudest one in the bleachers.
I remember one particular game; it was our school's championship game. I scored a touchdown, and when Vayda screamed out my jersey number, I turned toward the stands giving her the biggest grin. I never looked at Vayda with anything more than brotherly affection, but Damien must have seen something on my face at that moment, because he turned to me and said,"you try anything with my baby sister, and I'll kill you."Now, mind you, he said those words with a smile on his face, but there was no mistaking the warning in his eyes.
Hearing the unmistakable laughter coming from the end of the bar, I abandon my thoughts of the past and turn my attention to where Vayda is sitting on a stool next to Nova. I clench my fist and grind my teeth at the sight of my brother leaning in close to her then saying something that makes her smile. The beer bottle in my hand threatens to crack under the vise-like grip I have on it—better this bottle than Nova's head.
"What the hell are you growling about over here, Wick?" Riggs grunts from behind the bar. "You look like you're about to have a fuckin' stroke."
I give Riggs my bestfuck youlook. He cocks his head and looks down at the end of the bar to where my eyes were trained moments ago. The bastard looks back at me with a shit-eating grin. One I have in mind to knock off his face. "You know he's purposely trying to fuck with you? Cain would never move in on your woman, no matter how big a fuckin' man-whore he is." Cain who is known to the club as Nova, short for Casanova, for obvious reasons, is Riggs' twin brother. He's also a pain in the ass.
I take a swig of my beer. "I don't know what you're talkin' about, Prez. Vayda is not my woman."
Riggs shakes his head as he takes the empty bottle I shove toward him and tosses it in the trash bin under the bar. "You're so full of shit." Riggs pops the top off a fresh cold beer and sets it down in front of me. I accept it with a scowl. Riggs is calling me out on my lie because he knows me better than anyone and can see straight through my bullshit. I fucking hate it. I've known Riggs since we were in Special Forces together. He is also the only brother who knows about Damien and the day I screwed up and got my best friend killed. "I see it in the way you look at her, brother. I'm also going to take a wild guess and say she's the reason you've been out of town the past week."
I grunt in response. "Just don't take too long pullin' your head out of your ass." With those parting words, Riggs walks off. As much as I hate to admit it, he's not wrong. A week ago, I made the excuse I needed to visit my mom in Texas. The truth was, Vayda being in constant proximity was getting under my skin. I had to leave before I did something stupid.Like, claim her. Fuck her. Show every motherfucker in this bar she belongs to me.Chancing another glance at the end of the bar, I meet Vayda's eyes again. Eyes the color of whiskey and sunshine. She's unapologetic in the way she stares at me. The attraction we have for each other is no secret, but if she knew the truth about my role in what happened to her brother, she wouldn't be looking at me the way she is now. My dick hardens against the zipper of my jeans when she brings her beer to her lips, takes a sip then runs her tongue across her bottom lip. Vayda is sexy without having to try. Hell, she makes me hard as a rock by merely breathing the same air as me. Shaking those thoughts away, I tear my gaze away from hers and stand.
"You out of here, brother?" Riggs asks.
"Yeah. I'm beat from the ride home. I'm headed back to the clubhouse." I rap my knuckles on the bar and turn on my heel. It takes all the self-control I can conjure not to look back as I walk out the door of Twisted Throttle.
When I pull up to the clubhouse, which is located next to the river, the club's prospect, Everest who is standing outside and sees me coming, jogs up to the gate and pulls it open, letting me in. Parking, I cut the engine and climb off my bike. "The gate broke again?" I ask Everest.
He nods. "Yeah. The damn thing keeps short-circuiting. Kiwi is going to take a look at it tomorrow."
With a jerk of my chin, I head inside the clubhouse. Everest has been prospecting with The Kings for over a year now and well on his way to earning his patch. Riggs made note after the way Everest handled the situation with Luna; he is going to patch the kid in soon. Everest is currently our only prospect. After Luna's ex Rex Sullivan, the now-dead president of Savage Outlaw killed our other prospect, Track, the club was in no hurry to find a replacement.
When I walk into the clubhouse, Josie greets me with a warm smile from behind the bar. Josie is one of two club girls. She's short and has the kind of curves that will make any man's mouth water. She also sports an abundance of red curly hair. "Hey there, stranger."
"Hey, sweetheart. Where is everybody?" I ask, taking a seat.
Josie tosses the rag she was cleaning with aside and leans her elbows on top of the bar. "They all went out. It's just me, Payton and Everest here tonight." Josie studies me for a beat then asks. "You doing okay, Wick?"
I scrub my hands down my face and note I'm due for a shave. "Been a long couple of weeks, darlin'. That's all."
"Yeah, I can tell. You know I'm here if you want to talk about it." Josie gives me a knowing look. It seems everyone has been able to notice my mood and how Vayda's presence has me rattled. Luckily, Josie changes the subject. "So, how's your momma doing? Did you have a good trip back home?" Josie comes from around the bar and sits on the stool next to me.
