For Her Honor (3 page)

And with his penchant for
performing pain-inducing tactics for the club on some miserable human being, he wasn’t even sure if he was capable of leaving that on the doorstep as he crossed the threshold. His mom was different. She’d pushed him out and sacrificed to raise him. He owed her every ounce of love and affection he could muster. But a ‘nice, decent girl,’ as she put it? Ben had done it. But like he said earlier, Ben had lucked out.

She gave him a kiss right between his temple and ear
so that she wouldn’t catch her lip in his brow piercings. Pulling back, she had tears in her garishly made-up eyes, which were beginning to liquefy all that damn mascara she wore. “I love you, Gabe.”

She
used his given name when she was emotional as shit, as well. “Love you too, ma.” He pulled back and swiped the pack of Marlboros off the counter. “I’m takin’ these. Go rest. What do you wanna eat later?”

“Don’t bother.
There’s leftover lasagna in the freezer. Swing by for some?”

He gave her his trademark devilish
smile. “Food’s the second thing I never pass up.”

Chapter Two

“Damn, damn, damn!”

Karen may have pushed the ten-year-old Focus to its limits on the drive here. No sooner had she left New Cumberland, and the fifth bank she’d visited this morning, than billowing smoke had begun to seep out of the cracks from the hood. Hello fucking Monday!

With this town of Tippitt just a little farther north, she
had decided to drive up and take a peek – and get some much needed lunch – to see if the surroundings were as quirky as its name. So after another
‘we’re not hiring right now, but I’ll keep your application on file’
from Hancock County Bank & Trust, she had just passed the
‘You Are Now In Tippitt – Population, 19,247’
sign. That was probably the population in downtown Cincinnati alone. The town bordered southern Ohio and Pennsylvania, so residents probably worked out of state while living in town on the cheap. And cheap living was high on Karen’s to-do list in her trusty day planner.

But right now, her smoking car nudged cheap living out of the number one slot.
She wasn’t going to get anywhere if she didn’t find out the problem, and she prayed it wasn’t something that would dent what she had left to live on. As soon as she prayed to see some kind of a service station, one came into view. Tippitt ‘n Tank-It. She wondered if every establishment in this town played on the funny name. She needed gas anyway, well, once her car was drivable again. There was already a minivan, an SUV and an Oldsmobile fueling up at the four pumps. She drove around, sputtering smoke or steam or whatever it was, and backed into the fourth spot so her gas tank was lined up with the pump.

Exiting the car, she saw it was a self-serv
ice station with no mechanics bay. And seeing how the drivers of the three vehicles consisted of a soccer mom with three kids rattling in the back, a woman in workout gear and an older gentleman struggling with the gas cap, she was pretty much left to her own devices. For a moment she watched the old man, his little wife whose gray head barely rose above the dashboard sitting in the passenger seat. She decided to do a good deed first and hoped someone would return the favor.

“Can I give you a hand, there?”
The old man’s gnarled hands fumbled to unscrew the cap while his other hand was about to drop the pump. Karen rescued both just in time. “Whoa, I got it.” She held the pump for him then twisted off the gas cap – pretty much like trying to get a damn bottle of aspirin open. She inserted the pump then let him take over. “All set to squeeze.”

He gave her a
warm, thankful smile. “Thank you so much, dear. You shouldn’t be doing this all dressed up.”

Karen didn’t consider tan dress pants and an ice blue sleeveless top ‘d
ressy’ – unless she counted the Louboutins she probably could’ve hocked for a down payment on a better car. But she was her father’s daughter and since gym girl and soccer mom didn’t seem to offer any help, she’d have to do it herself. Unlike her mother and sister, who wouldn’t dream of exiting their respective Beemer and Escalade, and so sought out full service stations, Karen had no problem with pumping her own gas. Or lugging her own groceries inside her high-rise and up the elevator. Or pulling hair out of the bathroom drain. Or changing a light bulb, for that matter. Not Betsy Hanson and Shelia Watkins - pampered housewives extraordinaire. Her father had shown her how to change a tire, hook up a computer, swing a tennis racket and turn a screwdriver. Her mother taught her sister how to open a phonebook and call someone to come do those things. It was early on that Shelia had established herself as the pampered princess molded by Betsy, whereas Karen had been eager to learn Ed’s instructions on self-sufficiency.

But they weren’t helping her now.
Lifting the hood, she sharply backed away without dropping it as the steam rose up. She felt her face go red and slick and her hair, which she carefully had carefully blown dry and flat ironed this morning, would no doubt frizz. Propping the hood open, she went to the driver’s side window, which was open. She’d decided not to drain her fuel by driving around on this 85 degree day with the A/C on. That was the last thing she needed to have break down in the summer. Karen poked her head inside the window, bending far over towards her purse to retrieve her hair clip. She could already feel sweaty strands clinging to the back of her neck – just as she heard the rumble of a motorcycle pulling up to the pump opposite her.

~~~***~~~

Well, look at that, thank you very much!

There were asses.
And then there were specimens such as this. Killing the engine, Taz lifted his sunglasses to get a better view. Still straddling his bike, he took in the sweet, little bottom while its owner bent over in a very inviting position - hardening him in seconds. Seeing the smoke dissipating from the hood, he smiled. He had freakish tendencies when it came to club business, but with the ladies he was a closet gentleman. He loved women. The feel of them, the look of them, the smell of them, right down to that exquisite sound they made when they came. He was never mean, nor did he ever raise his hand to one. But he pulled no punches once his base needs were met. They either departed on their own or gave no lip when he asked.

Straightening up, the
woman lifted her arms to do something with her hair, which was dark with even darker shades of red. She was lean, probably as tall as Ben’s wife, Eva. Not too much in the tits department, barely a handful. Tits were never a deal breaker, as long as they had a pair of succulent nipples to clamp his lips around. “Problem, pretty lady?” Talking was part of his charm. With his unconventional look, it had to be. And a damsel in distress was one of his favorites.

She started at the voice behind her
and spun around. Damn, those were some gorgeous eyes she had. Light green. Combined with that hair – nice. He watched her graze over his face. They always zoned in on the hardware first, not quite knowing what to make of all the silver contraptions pierced here and there. “Kind of. I’m hoping it’s just the radiator and not something else.”

Okay, she at least knew car parts and that a dry radiator could cause an engine
to smoke. And dressed in nice clothes that showed off her assets rather nicely, she wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. Or her face and neck sweaty, where little strands had begun to cling. Something about a fine-assed woman fixing her own car was fucking hot as hell.

“Let’s take a peek here
.” Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a blue bandanna to wrap around his hand, then untwisted the radiator cap. A poof of steam rushed out, causing the woman to step back. “Got somethin’ I can use to dip into it?” Yeah, that phrase had a double meaning.

It went right over her head.
“Um, let me see.” She went around to the driver’s side, again, bending over. Damn this was turning out to be quite an afternoon so far. She pulled her keys out of the ignition then opened the trunk. While she rummaged around he curiously peeked at what she had inside before she slammed it shut. “Here’s an empty package from a windshield wiper.”

“That’ll do, sweetheart
. Gimme.” He took it from her, inserted it into the radiator’s opening, and it came up clean. “You were right – dry as a bone. Gallon of water’ll do. Hold tight. Just let me fill up and I’ll….”

“I can take care of it.”

She wasn’t such a damsel after all. Knew when to ask for help, but held her own. She wasn’t from around here, that he was certain of. The Ohio plates and the shit she had packed in her trunk were two giveaways. The third, well, he could throw a rock from one end of Tippitt to the other. An ass and pair of eyes like that would’ve made their way to his radar at some point. “You do that.” He went to gas up his bike while watching that lovely behind walk into the mart. Wes could chew his fingers off waiting for him. Taz was going to take his sweet time until she came back out. He wanted to watch every move she made until she left.

His tank full, he replaced the nozzle as she came out with a gallon of wate
r. He watched her run the back of her hand across her forehead to remove tiny beads of sweat before she peeled opened the water. He wasn’t done with this scenario. “You need to gas up?”

The water splashed mid
-pour. The look she had of being caught off guard made him smile. “Oh, yeah. After I do this. Already paid inside.”

“Allow me.”
He went for the ‘regular’ nozzle, as he didn’t think she’d put high test in such an older-model vehicle.

“It’s okay.
I can do it.”

“I’m sure you can.”
He squeezed the handle as the gas poured in. And then his curious, chatty nature got the best of him. “You’re not from here, are you?”

A look of discomfort crossed her face.
“No. I’m not.”

“On the road long?”

She finished pouring and tossed the empty bottle in the trash. “What makes you think that?” Her tone was a bit defensive.

He played it cool
, so not to make her clam up. “Outta state plates. Stuffed trunk.” Her mouth dropped open as if he’d stumbled upon a secret. “I’m just observant.”

Blotting her face with the back of her hand
, she appeared to regain her game face. “Change of scenery.” That was all she offered.

“What part of Ohio?”

“Cincinnati.”

“Change of scenery’s an understatemen
t, sweetheart. Big city to Tippitt? Complete one-eighty.”

“I’m not staying in Tippitt.
Just….,” she paused, as if to regroup her thoughts. “I’ve been job hunting further south. Saw this place on the map. Thought I’d check it out.”

The gas pump clicked at fifteen dollars.
Not enough to fill up the tank at these prices, which told him she was tight on cash. This independent damsel was really intriguing him now. “So where’re you stayin’?”

“Wheeling.”

He doubted she had a permanent place if she had no job and most of her shit packed in her trunk. Cincinnati to Wheeling was straight down Interstate 70, and he was sure she was most likely holed up in the closest motel. His mind worked the way he liked to talk, fast and over-active. He liked to figure shit out rather than to come out and ask. He could just pull what Ben had to get the drop on Eva, and have young Wes pull up her plates. But Taz figured this chick was here for a bit, considering she was looking for a job. And the distance between Tippitt and Wheeling narrowed his search area. He’d find her if he wanted to. He was sure of it.

“All
done,” he said, putting her gas cap back on.

She smiled warmly.
Pretty white teeth brightened her face along with those damn pale, green eyes. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.”
He didn’t ask any more questions, feeling he had all he needed to know for his own personal game of Clue. “Need any suggestions if you’re goin’ into town?”

Opening her car door, she paused and shrugged.
“Place to get some lunch?”

“Clarks Café.
Plaza in the town center. Coffee place across the way, too.”

“Sounds good.
And thanks, again.”

Mounting his bike, he reached for his helmet as she got in the car.
He needed to have just a bit a fun before she left. “Hey….sweetheart?” Surprisingly, she looked over, a blush mixing in with the heat of the midday sun on her face. “What’s your name?”

She started the car while shooting
him a coy smile. “It isn’t sweetheart,” she replied before driving off.

Taz couldn’t contain his wide-ass grin.

Chapter Three

Tippitt-Over-Two Plaza? Seriously?

Not even in this little neck of t
he woods thirty minutes, and Karen’s day was proving to be more interesting than the last week. Whimsical names. A smoking car. And a curious and pierced biker coming to her aid. She’d seen bikers before, mainly bearded and long-haired, with guts hanging over their belts. This one took his look a bit far, with facial jewelry and sharply cut goatee beard as black as his hair and eyes. Devilish was the first word that had come to mind when she saw him. Although not classically handsome like the Preston Vines of the world, she found his look…..interesting. She even swore she saw a pair of dimples.

Not only was he helpful, bu
t quite friendly. And chatty, as in asking a lot of questions. She didn’t tell him her name, nor did she know his. Only his affiliation – The Mountain Skulls, as was displayed on his leather vest. He was probably a lifelong resident of this little town of Tippitt, so he knew when a new face showed up. But like she said, she was just here for a change of scenery, not sure exactly where she was going to land. Whatever job she was offered would determine what direction she’d move out of that motel room.

Pulling in
to the plaza, Karen slowly drove down one side to take in the different shops. The first one which stood out was the coffee shop. Tippitt n’ Sip-It. Boy, the shop owners here really loved playing on the town’s name. Next to it was a card shop, then a…..psychic? Okay. Across the way was a hardware store, barber and this Clarks Café the devilish biker had suggested. The end of the plaza was capped by a bakery called Sugar Me and…..a bank. Tippitt Savings Bank to be exact. At least it wasn’t called Tippitt ‘n Bank-It.

Giving it a shot, she parked
, unclipped her hair and fluffed it so that she didn’t look like she’d just rolled out of bed. The bank was small, with only three teller stations and three internal offices. Two people were being helped, while another was at a side table writing up a ticket. Two offices were occupied – one by a woman in a bright coral suit, black rimmed glasses and a severe chestnut up-do. The name
Jane Marsh, Branch Manager
was etched on a door plate. The other held a younger woman who looked to be doing some bookkeeping.

The free teller
saw her aimlessly wandering around. “Can I help you?”

“I’m just
wondering if you’re hiring.”

The teller pointed to Jane Marsh’s door.
Karen nodded, then went to sit in the chair outside the door. No sooner had she crossed her legs, than the manager came out. “Yes?”

Karen stood.
“I’d like to know if you’re hiring.”

This Jane Marsh looked her up and down.
“Come in.” Karen did as told and sat across the neatly organized wood desk. “Name?”

“Oh, sorry.”
She held out her hand. “Karen Hanson.”

Jane removed her glasses
and shook her hand. “You from around here?”

Here we go ag
ain. These small town folks were quite suspicious of new faces. “I just arrived in Wheeling from Ohio.”

“What did you do in Ohio?”

“I worked at Huntington National Bank in Cincinnati. Started out as a teller four years ago, then got promoted to loan manager.”

Jane picked up her glasses, pulled a cloth out of her front drawer
, then began to clean them. “We’re not in need of a loan manger.”

Karen shrugged o
ne shoulder. “Teller position is fine.”

“You’re a l
ittle over-qualified for that now.”

“In this economy, I’ll take what I can get.
Are you looking for a teller?”

“Not full time.”
Jane put the cloth away then slid her glasses back on. “Two, maybe three days a week – tops. Two until five. One of the girls has three children and can only do mornings. It’s not easy to find someone who wants those sporadic hours. People here need full time work.”

At this point, Karen was willing to take any time work.
“I’d be willing. Do you need me to fill out an application or……?”

“No.
I prefer to talk. Why did you leave your last job?”

Karen could
n’t admit the truth. Not now. Not to a complete stranger. Then again, maybe a stranger wouldn’t judge her like her family did. “I had a personal situation I needed to deal with. After I did, I decided to get away from the big city.” Of course, that was her brother-in-law’s suggestion – to lay low, start over somewhere fresh and put what happened out of her mind. “My situation had nothing to do with work. I can give you the bank’s number and my supervisor’s name for a reference.” Karen had left the bank on good terms and, although she’d been embarrassed by the Preston situation after showing her co-workers the big rock he’d given her, they’d been sympathetic and understanding of her decision to leave.

For several
moments, Jane looked her over. “You said you’re staying in Wheeling?”

“
For now.”

Jane thought
, then gave what Karen determined to be a smile. “Two until five - Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Weekends are covered. Fifteen an hour. No benefits, since you’re part time. Thirty-day probation period. Let me have Huntington’s information and I’ll do a quick check. Give me your phone number as well. Can you start next Monday?”

She could start right now.
She needed more, but three days was a start. “Absolutely.”

With one final handshake
, Karen left the bank with her first positive feeling in a long time. She was glad she’d given this little town a try and had gotten a job out of it. Now she’d see if this Clarks Café was as good as that biker had suggested. She was starving and in a good mood, and with a potential paycheck on the horizon, she’d treat herself to a nice lunch, then get some takeout to warm up in the motel microwave for dinner later.

             
She walked inside Clarks and scanned the vinyl booths and wooden tables. It was almost two, past lunch time, but the place still had a good amount of customers. She took a booth by the window so she could scope out the rest of her future work area while she waited. Behind her, two women were in conversation. A waitress immediately came over with a menu, glass of water and cutlery. “Start you off with something to drink?”

Even with the A/C on
, the water glass was already beginning to sweat. It had to be at least eighty outside. “Diet cola. And, I don’t need a menu.” She already had a patty melt at the diner Friday night. Now she’d try the tuna. “Tuna melt on rye – toasted.”

“Fries?”

Yeah, she was getting fries. “Yes. Please be sure they’re crisp.”

As the waitress left, one of the women in the booth behind her slid out.
“Oh….my God. Are you two symbiotic or something?”

Karen looked up to see the woman in a navy blue skirt and white silk tank
who slid out of the booth behind her. “Excuse me?”

“Your order.”
The woman then looked at her friend in the booth. “Eva, she ordered the exact same thing you do every time.”

Turning her body ev
en further, Karen looked at this ‘Eva’ and found a gorgeous brunette with brilliant blue eyes wearing a pretty, floral sundress. “Small world,” Karen quipped.

“I guess so
,” Eva replied as she scooted out of the booth.

“No, no, stay there,” the friend said, going to hug her.
“Don’t jostle the merchandise.”

Karen wasn’t sure what she meant
, until Eva ignored her friend and got up, displaying a softly rounded belly under her dress. “I’m pregnant, not crippled.”

The two women hugged. “I j
ust don’t want that big, biker husband of yours sending one of his friends after me,” the friend said. “Then again, if he does, make sure it’s Air Force guy. I’ll know how to change his mind.”

Big, biker husband
? Karen said to herself. Could he be one of these Mountain Skulls, too? Did they reside in this town?

“Good
bye
, Mar,” Eva said. “Go home to
your
husband.”

“Yeah, yeah.
He’ll have to do. Call you in a couple. Hope you find someone soon. And no online ads. Brings out the creeps.”

The suited friend left as Eva looked
at Karen. “Sorry. My friend’s a little…..forward. That’s putting it mildly.”

Karen waved it off.
“No problem. So, food here’s good?”

Eva picked up the remainder of her iced tea and sip
ped it through the straw. “Very good. You’ll like the tuna melt. Not heavy on the mayo.” She rubbed her belly. “Which is good because not too much agrees with me lately.”

Karen watched Eva lovingly st
roke her baby bump. “When are you due?”

“Nov
ember.” There was something about the way Eva smiled that warmed Karen. “Are you visiting here?”

Aga
in, that small town paranoia. “You’re the third person to ask me that today.”

“Sorry.
Just when you asked if the food here was good, I took it you’ve never eaten here before. Just about everyone in Tippitt has.”

“I just landed a job at the bank.
Three days a week.” Then Karen remembered something. “Which reminds me, I heard your friend mention you’re looking for someone. You have a place in here?”

Eva nodded.
“Card shop across the way. First Impressions. Summer’s usually slow, but I’m planning to start working from home by October so I’ll need another body soon. All I have is my manager and her daughter.” Pausing, Eva gave her a curious look. “Are you interested? Might be three or four days a week once the holidays kick in. What days do they want you at the bank?”

“Monday, Wednesday
and Friday. Can I work around that?”

Reaching into the booth, Eva grabbed her purse.
“Let me think about it. I’m Eva, by the way. Eva Lawson.”

“
Karen Hanson.” Karen got her own purse, pulled out her day planner and pen, then flipped to a piece of notepaper. “Here’s my number. It’ll be convenient to work both jobs in the same place.”

Eva took the paper and nodded.
“Okay. I’ll give you a call. You can either come to the store or my house and we’ll talk more.”

“I appreciate it, Eva.”

“Sure.” The waitress walked up with Karen’s plate. “Enjoy your lunch.”

~~~***~~~

Stupid, fucking prospect!

“
Yo! Hey! Zip!”

Taz and Wes both raced down from the end of the body shop towards the door leading to the office after a loud crash.
That was what you got for putting a kid behind the wheel of a forklift.
“Stop! Stop!”
Taz yelled, but it was too late. The kid had already gone in reverse when he should’ve gone forward, sending not only the boxes of parts on the fork sailing, but the back of the machine slamming right through the office entrance. The door and most of the jamb were completely shredded. Stopping at the lift, Taz reached inside and pulled the kid out by the scruff. “You stupid asshole! Look what you did!”

“Shit, shit, shit.”
The kid, early twenties whose name was Zak, but nicknamed Zippy due to his over-active mannerisms, couldn’t apologize enough. “I thought I cleared…..”

“You
thought
?” Taz asked him. “You’re supposed to
know
, dumbass. You expect to get voted in, carry a gun and watch my back when you can’t even see what’s behind you?” Zippy looked about to shit his pants as Taz angrily shoved him away before surveying the damage.

“Here.”
Wes shoved a broom and large pail at the prospect. “Start cleanin’ up.”

Without so much as a blink, Zippy began to pile up the splinters of wood as Taz went i
nto the office to check if Perri was alright. She was one of the long-time club girls, with a knack for math and numbers and a favorite lately of Doug’s. When the guys couldn’t keep up with the manual billing, they had enlisted Perri to take over. She got a computerized accounting system set up, customer list entered, open invoices, checks and deposits posted and bank statements reconciled. Money ‘washed’ through the shop’s account from the chop shop parts the Lakeland Hogs supplied them was slow dripped into the account, so not to appear suspicious. “You a’ight?”

Perri was tall, around five
-foot-ten, mid-forties and slender build with dark, curly hair and lined eyes. She usually favored age-inappropriate clothes, as evidenced by her tight halter top and even tighter denim capris. “Fine. I’ll just move the desk back towards the corner so I’m out of the danger zone.”

She was a tough chick
, too. No helpless little miss she was, as she lifted the front of the desk and pushed it away from the damaged area. She was also quite a physical fuck; there wasn’t a female who graced the clubhouse looking for a good time that Taz hadn’t sampled. And she looked pretty good for her age. “Appreciate it, babe. Let me know if you need anything.”