Page 1

GOLDIE CHESTER

Last spring...

––––––––

I never planned to settle down with a man. Commitment didn’t scare me. I grew up around good marriages. I had zero reason to avoid entanglements beyond how I never wanted a man to tell me what to do.

Even as a teenager, I struggled to deal with a guy bossing me around. Billy “Blackjack” Chester was a good dad, always loving and never bossy. He was the VP of the local Rawlins Heretics Motorcycle Club and spent time in juvie after killing a rapist. The guy was honorable, but I still got annoyed when he told me what to do.

My baby brother, Boone, was cool enough to keep his trap shut about how I should live my life. My Crimson Guard president, Clint Reed, also knew when to back off.

My inability to handle bossy men likely came from my upbringing. Boone and I had grown up in the Pasadena townhouse complex, surrounded by women from the Everything Nice Crew. The fox-only crime organization wasn’t built on butterflies and rainbows. These were heavily abused women who banded together to fight back. No, that wasn’t the whole story. Wanting more than freedom, the ENC craved the security that came from power.

Yarrow Jones was their youngest member. My mom never shared the full details of her childhood, but I learned enough to hate men. Sure, some were heroic, like my dad. Most were not.

I often wished I was attracted to women. My clubmate, Sabrina Reed, found love with our childhood friend, Xandy, before they added a sweet chick named Moe to the mix. I could sometimes imagine how great life would be with another woman. My girlfriend could tell me what to do without me flipping out.

But chicks never lit a fire inside me. Nor did most men.

Yet, for months, I’d been nursing a crush on a particular guy. I hated myself for feeling anything for him. After all, I’d seen the kind of trouble giving in to such desires could create.

One of my closest friends, Elle Reed, had fed her feelings for the president of the Black Rainbow Motorcycle Club. Though Zodiac Bondi was a massive jerk, I couldn’t deny the guy was physically attractive. Elle hid her crush well, until she gave in one night. Just a taste. What could be the harm?

Now, Elle was in her final trimester with Zodiac’s son. She’d even moved with her older son to Baton Rouge to be with Zodiac. Her one innocent taste had come with severe consequences!

But Elle also seemed to have defective birth control because both of her sons were oops-babies. Personally, I had managed to ride a few dicks in my life with zero offspring.

So maybe a taste wouldn’t ruin me.

And I really wanted a taste!

I wasn’t greedy. I’d be satisfied with a nibble. A quick lick. Something!

Tonight, at the Crimson Guard’s clubhouse, my crush’s presence once again taunted me. York Lacroix sat at the Fire Hooch’s bar top, taking infrequent drags on a beer that was likely warm by now. He’d given me a few glances. Elle had claimed Zodiac believed York had a crush on someone in our club.

My ego chose to believe that someone was me. Tonight, I was tempted to prove whether I was right.

At my table were siblings Jaslene and Alon “Nine” Tooker. The brown-haired siblings also grew up at the Rawlins townhouse complex. We were like cousins. I still remembered as a little girl feeding Nine a bottle when he first came home from the hospital.

Tonight, they were restless and hassling each other. Nine kept tugging at her long braids. Jas attempted to undo his man bun. Each battle was settled by an arm-wrestling contest. Nine always won, but Jas remained an eternal dreamer.

Working on a whiskey shot, I hesitated rather than engage with York. He felt too handsome. The scars on his right cheek were from his time in the Marines. To me, the damaged flesh only elevated the perfection of the rest of his face. His eyes were a golden brown. When they looked at me, my attraction burned bright. His thick brown hair often fell in his eyes, but he never brushed it away. I suspected York liked to hide himself.

The man was quiet and stealthy. People claimed he was good with a rifle and threw a mean punch. I often found myself daydreaming about York’s thickly muscled body. Though I had gotten glimpses of the black-and-gray tattoos on his arms, I wanted to strip him down and explore everything he had to offer.

In contrast to how gorgeous York looked, I was overly insecure about my appearance, especially with my new haircut.

Days earlier, I’d gotten into a brawl at a grocery store with members of a motorcycle club called the LM Jokers. The fuckers who hassled Dalisay Tooker, Elle, my brother’s girlfriend Nova, and me weren’t local, even if their club was. The men were from Baton Rouge, where their fathers had once run the Black Rainbow club, until Zodiac and his loyal guys shoved out the older men and refused membership to their sons.

York had been one of the men to turn on the old leadership. I often questioned why he chose to follow a psycho like Zodiac.

Despite wondering many things about York, I never dared approach him. We hadn’t shared more than a few words during his many visits to Little Memphis over the last six months.

But tonight, I found myself feeling insecure and impulsive. The brawl with the LM Jokers had left me bruised and missing a braid. I never realized how much I relied on my hair to make me feel attractive. Cutting my shoulder-length bleached-blonde hair into a long pixie left me feeling masculine. If I were back at my place, I’d eat ice cream and chill out. Yet, here in the clubhouse with a man I craved, that self-doubt inspired me to seek out his attention and approval.

Leaving the Tooker siblings to argue, I walked to where York sat at the bar top. The music was quieter than usual. The same attack that left his face scarred gave York tinnitus. Since loud music bothered him, we’d gotten into the habit of turning down the sound system and playing tamer songs when he was around. Tonight, Asia sang “Don’t Cry” while I made my move.

Settling my ass on the stool next to York’s, I inhaled his alluring peppery scent and admired his beautiful profile. The scars did little to hide the handsome man hiding behind his scowl. Sitting this close reminded me how much taller he was than my five-five. I spotted a dagger tattoo peeking out from his black thermal top.