Biker Justice: A Skull Kings MC Novella (2 page)

“That time was the first and last time.”

Logan pushed out his bottom lip. “But we had so much fun. Don’t you remember?”

I shoved him away, disgusted. “No. I don’t remember a thing.”

What was with him? He was constantly surrounded by women, and he was
still
horny as a fourteen year old, and smooth as one, too. His seduction was all cheese and pick-up lines. There was no finesse at all. I’d fallen for it
one
time after having one too many, but that was it. Thank god I could barely remember it.

“Are you ever serious, Logan?” I asked.

“I can be whatever you want me to be.”

I made a face. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to get away from him and wondered what Liam and Lisbeth were up to. “Aspen, what time is it?”

“Quarter to ten.”

I glanced at the exit. Surely, Liam and Lisbeth had had ample time to catch up. And if not, I didn’t care. I still had a son to get home to, and I needed my car back.

I planted my hands on the bar. “I should get going now.”

“Aw, you just got here!” Logan whined.

Aspen smiled and nodded. “If you see Liam outside, tell him to come back. I’m bored!”

She must’ve thought he was taking a smoke break. It was my turn to feel guilty. As her friend, was I supposed to warn her about Lisbeth, about what Liam was like around the youngest Olsen sister? The poor girl had no idea what to expect. But once again, it was nobody’s business but Liam’s.

Still, the older I got, the less friends I had. I reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Text me, Aspen, okay? Anytime.”

She hurriedly flashed a distracted smile as a cocktail waitress dropped off an order. “Sure thing. See ya, Carmen.”

I swung my purse over my shoulder and began heading out the door, hoping that Logan wasn’t following me. But, with my blessed luck, that was exactly what he was doing.

“Carmen! Hey, Car!”

I spun around to look at him. He was framed in the doorway, half inside the balmy, glittery club and half out. “What?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You okay to drive?”

“I’m
fine.
And just in case you get any second thoughts, let me remind you that I only had one shot and a beer and ate a big ol’ quesadilla at work.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

I huffed impatiently and crossed my arms. “Then, what did you mean?”

Liam shrugged sheepishly. “I wanted to make sure you’d be getting home safe.”

I scoffed. “I’ve managed just fine for twenty-five years by myself, Logan.”

“Fine. Just send me a text when you get home so I know. If it’s not too much of an inconvenience, that is.”

He wasn’t being ironic. He pressed his lips together, looking...I don’t know. Determined, maybe. For the first time, he met my eyes without breaking contact to watch some girl trot past. He was seeing me, and letting me see him.

Voices began floating through the still, cool air. They were Noah’s and Liam’s, with Lisbeth’s soft soprano weaving through their baritones like notes from a flute. I thought I heard a laugh. Despite the tension with Logan, I felt my muscles relaxing.

Everything’s okay after all,
I thought to myself. Now, all I had to do was get home.

I was feeling softened. “I’ll see you later, okay Logan?” I didn’t wait for a response and turned away. I walked past the returning trio, pausing just long enough to say goodbye to each in turn. Then, I was in my car, hands on the wheel, heading home.

I really was okay to drive, but I still had the taste of beer in my mouth and the tequila’s warmth in my veins. And somehow, I couldn’t stop thinking about Logan.

About the last time we’d been alone together.

About how easy it had been to talk to him.

About how all that talking had led to kissing.

I let my mind touch on the very edge of that memory, recalling how his stomach had felt against my fingers when I slipped them up his shirt. The moment I remembered, I shook the memory out of my head.

“First and last time,” I reminded myself, gripping the wheel. I forced myself to think of Xander, which immediately led me to think about the sitter.

“Shit,” I muttered. After paying for Lisbeth’s cab, I had almost nothing left. I was almost thankful to have something new to worry about.

––––––––

T
he next morning was quiet, as usual. Xander stared pensively into his milk as he spooned cereal into his mouth. He brushed his teeth without prompting. He put on his glasses, his socks, his shoes, picked up his diorama project, and waited for me at the car.

I eyed him in the rearview mirror as I drove him to school. “Are you nervous about your project?”

“No,” he said.

There was a glare over his glasses, shielding his eyes. He’d had them for about a year. Getting him to wear them to school every day used to be an uphill battle, but now, here he was at eight years old, practically a little man doing everything by himself.
My little professor,
I thought adoringly as I pulled into the drop-off lane.

“I love you!” I called out the window at his retreating back.

I didn’t care if I embarrassed him, or if he said it back or not. His backpack bounced on his shoulders as he shuffled toward the school’s doors. Just as I got ready to pull away, he turned around and gave me a wave.

“I love you, too.”

It was worth ten morning cups of coffee, hearing him say that. It almost distracted me from the growling motor of the Harley merging into the lane behind me.

Logan.

I recognized the messy, shorn hair under his helmet and the shape of his lips, set into a determined line. What did he want? There was no way that he just
happened
to end up behind me while I drove home from Canyon City Elementary.

I pulled into a gas station and got out. “What’s up, Logan?” I asked.

Logan was grinning as he took off his sunglasses. “Just riding around town. You?”

I felt a stir in my belly when he began unstrapping his leather riding gloves, but I ignored it. “Cut the shit. Why are you following me?”

“Moi?” Logan said, putting a hand on himself. “Never!”

“Then I suppose you just needed some gas, then?”

“Nope. Coffee.” He swung his leg off of his bike and raised his eyebrows at me as he walked past.

I frowned.
What an annoying little shit.
Shaking my head, I slid back into the car and went on my way. My shift didn’t start until three, and Xander got out of school at two-thirty. These kinds of days were tricky because technically, I had time to pick him up myself, but it was a
very
tight squeeze.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, easing an oncoming migraine.
Maybe I should just call the sitter today.

When I got home, I was dizzy with hunger and exhaustion, and I wasn’t sure whether I needed food or sleep more. I settled for a spoonful of peanut butter straight out of the jar, promising myself a proper breakfast after my nap. Last night’s dishes were still in the sink, but looking at them made me even more tired.

Finally, changed into a loose shirt and shorts, I flopped onto my bed. And that was when I heard it.

A low rumble was coming from the street, growing louder and louder.
No,
I thought to myself. I scrambled up from the bed and went to the windows. The panes practically vibrated in the window frame from all the noise. I pushed my fingers through the blinds and peeked out to my driveway.

“Mother-fuck,” I muttered.

I hurried around my room, picking up my deodorant stick, my hairbrush, and a discarded bra. I was wrestling it on under my shirt just as the doorbell rang.

“What?” I nearly screeched after wrenching open the door.

Logan stood on my front patio. “Hey. I brought you a peace offering.” He held up a grease-stained paper bag that smelled tantalizingly of doughnuts. “Can I come in?”

I narrowed my eyes. “You can just hand them to me right here. Thanks.”

Logan sighed, dropping his chin to his chest. He took off his shades and tucked them into the pocket of his leather jacket. “I actually came here wanting to talk, okay? And I thought it’d be nice to have a doughnut while we did it. So...”

I closed my eyes. Honestly, I’d been dreading this moment, but expecting it as well.
Might as well get it over with.
“Fine. Come in.”

The sound of Logan’s heavy boots falling on my tile floor as he entered my home was a jarring, surreal one. I turned away toward the kitchen, letting him close the door himself, and tried to see my house through a visitor’s eyes for the first time.

My living room was neat but outdated. The Navajo blanket on my couch had been a fixture in my grandmother’s house. After inheriting it, I’d put it there because I had no idea what else to do with it. The wicker chair and ottoman looked like they had belonged to her, too, but I’d actually picked them up from a yard sale for five dollars.

I gritted my teeth, expecting Logan to say something smart about my box television set, at least.

“So, where’s the kitchen?” was all he said.

“Right in here. I think I have some coffee somewhere.”

I expected Logan to sit down at the table and twirl his thumbs while I banged around in the cabinets. Instead, he dropped his bag on the counter and began doing it with me. I frowned at a shelf of cereal as I listened to him sliding plates and opening drawers. The jingle of silverware told me he’d found the forks.

“You sure know your way around the kitchen,” I remarked carefully.

He was back across the room now, setting the table I assumed. “Not really. It only comes out when I’m really hungry. It’s an evolutionary survival trait, I guess.”

I snorted. “You sound just like...” I cut myself off. “Oh, I think I’m out of coffee. Do you like milk?”

“Who do I sound like?” Logan asked.

“Nobody.”

“I sound like your son, right? Xander? Because he likes science.”

I spun around to face him. “How did you know that?”

Logan shrugged and looked away.

Oh.
Of course. I’d probably told him that night we’d kissed in the car. Honestly, my memories were somewhat patchy, but I could recall enough to be ashamed about it. And unfortunately, it happened to be the reason why Logan came to see me. I just knew. I blushed as I poured two glasses of milk without confirming that Logan wanted some for himself.

“How old is he again?”

“Eight.”

I could practically hear his mind clicking away at the math. What was twenty-five minus eight?
Seventeen,
my age when I gave birth to him. I let myself chuckle. As if a guy like Logan could ever understand what it was like to be a parent at that age.

“Carmen? Can we talk?” Logan said softly as I hid behind the refrigerator door.

“Yeah.” I came to the table, avoiding his gaze.

“It’s about that one night. You’re okay with that, right?” he said.

“It’s fine.” I picked out a strawberry-filled doughnut and stabbed it with my fork, letting it bleed red jelly onto the plate. I already knew what he was going to say.
We had a few too many drinks. I don’t really see you like that. I just want to stay friends.
Something like that. Suddenly, as Logan drew in a breath, I felt the intense need to speak up first.

“Car—”

“You know what? I understand.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I mean, we’re both crazy when we’re a little buzzed. I get that. You don’t have to try so hard to be nice. I’ll just forget it ever happened. I pretty much already did.”

Logan’s shoulders dropped. He looked relieved. But when he spoke, there was a strain in his voice. “That is
not
what I was thinking.”

My heart began beating faster. “Um...what are you talking about?”

Logan slid his chair toward me. “I don’t want to forget, Carmen. I want to finish what we started. That’s why I came here.”

I bristled. “And what, pray tell, did you expect? That I’d just fling myself on my back?
Gee,
since you asked so nicely...”

Suddenly, Logan reached out and grabbed my arms, clamping them into my sides. His grip was so tight that I could feel the pulse beating under the skin of his fingers. My heart gave a leap as he drew himself forward, so close that all I could see was the ice-blue of his eyes.

“I could just take you myself if I wanted to,” he said in a low voice. He pressed the very tips of his fingernails into my skin and skimmed them down my arms. “I could push you down onto the floor and do whatever I want with you.”

I screwed my eyes shut and gulped. Hearing him talk like that made my stomach clench uncomfortably. Sure, I’d thought about it ever since Logan first started hanging out with the Skull Kings, and especially after what had happened the last time we’d been alone together. But he was too immature, too unstable. Even if I hooked up with him just for fun (which had crossed my mind a few times before), I had a kid to think about.

“Don’t you remember how good it felt when I made you moan and squirm in the car?”

“I was drunk, Logan.” I tried to sound firm, but my voice had a shaky edge to it. I licked my lips. The movement drew Logan’s eye to my mouth.

“I know you remember,” he said with a smirk.

Just say no.
It was that easy. I still had time to say no and chase Logan out of my house like the unfixed tomcat he was. But his gaze was drawing me in like a magnet. His presence made my clothes feel heavy. His touch was hot. I couldn’t help but wonder how his hands would’ve felt groping under my bra, inside my panties.

My head begged me to say no, but I just couldn’t.

Logan dragged his finger through the jelly puddle on my plate. I thought he was going to lick it off of himself, but instead he drew it across my bare neck, just under my jaw. Then, he came forward to lick it off.

I gasped, and my hands clenched into fists.

“You know how strong I am,” he continued. His words blew cold against the wet skin on my neck. His hands were at my wrists now, holding them tight in my lap. “I’ll hold you down. I’ll suck on your tits just like this.”