Lock and Key (19 page)

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Authors: Cat Porter

Tags: #Contemporary

BOOK: Lock and Key
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“Yes, I did. Jump was all over it. Their Road Captain, Lock, found Ray right away.”

“Lock?”

“Yes.”

“The biker my son currently worships thanks to you?”

“Lock took us out for dinner the other night.”

“And ice cream.”

“And ice cream,” I said.

“Cozy.”

I crossed my arms and shifted my weight. Her wan eyes settled on me. “He’s Wreck’s half- brother,” I said. “The one he saved from the abusive father on the reservation? The soldier?”

“Oh, yeah. I vaguely remember him lurking around the club. He was just a kid then.” Ruby said. “I forget his real name. Wasn’t he in your class?”

“He was a year younger,” I said. “His real name is Miller.”

“Right. Quiet, rebellious type, but way too young for me. At least back then.” She smirked. “Now, hey…”

I grinned at her. “Back then, you liked your men mature and sophisticated, right?”

Ruby barked out a laugh. “If I had the energy I’d throw this pillow at you.”

“Consider it thrown,” I said.

Ruby sighed, her eyes rested on me. “You going on your own?”

She was just like our freaking mother.

“No, mom!” I scowled at her. “Lock is taking me.”

“Oh?”

“The club doesn’t want me going out there on my own. You should be pleased.”

“I’m tickled pink. Some things never change.”

“Apparently not,” I said.

She waved a hand in the air. “I hate that it’s my fault that you have to do any of this. Club protection, asshole parent…” she said.

My gaze darted down to where my fingers twisted an errant thread on Ruby’s bedspread. “I’m kind of curious to see Ray actually,” I said.

“Oh Jesus, you must be joking.” Ruby frowned at me. “Don’t be, please don’t do this.”

“He’s been living practically next door all this time. And yet not one word. Mom died, nothing.”

“He’s a coward, Grace. That’s why,” said Ruby. “I don’t care how unhappy he was, he could’ve handled it very differently. Instead, he stepped on all of us, every single one of us, and never looked back. I stopped wondering about him a long, long time ago. I cut that shit off so I could breathe, but I guess you never did.”

“Even when me and Dig… that made the 6 o’clock news, didn’t it?” I asked. “He could have come then. Why didn’t he?”

Ruby took a gulp of air from her oxygen mask, then put it down. “He did.”

My pulse pounded in my ears. “What?”

“You were still in your post-surgical coma when he showed up at the hospital.

“Ruby—?”

“He stayed for a couple of hours. Talked with the doctor and took off again.” Ruby sank back on the bed.

My eyes flared at her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Gracie, you had so much going on, and you were not dealing with any of it very well. You wanted me to tell you that the sweet daddy that abandoned us popped by for a visit while we were trying to keep you sane, alive, and in one piece?” She took more air in from the mask.

“What did he say?”

“I took one look at him and told him to get lost. I pushed him, threw a fit and Jump and Boner had to pull me off him. Security showed up, and he left. A nurse told me he came back much later that night, stayed until morning in your room.”

My mouth went dry and my lungs squeezed together. I rubbed the sides of my head with my hands. “Oh, God.”

“Grace, you always want to believe the best in people. That’s a gift you have, but don’t waste that on him. Maybe it’s a good thing Lock will be with you. I’m sure that man can spot bullshit a mile off. That’ll keep it real for you.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “What would you prefer I do? Ah… how about we sneak into Ray’s house in the dead of night, have Lock incapacitate him in his sleep, retrieve his bone marrow and take off? Sound better?”

“And how are you going to “retrieve his bone marrow,” smarty pants?”

I shrugged. “I’ll look it up on the internet.”

Ruby’s head sunk back on the pillow and she laughed. I put the oxygen mask back over her mouth.

 

 

“I’m guessing you like what you see?”

My eyes were glued on Lock’s Harley whose gleaming chrome and silvery brown and black custom paint job positively glowed in the bursting soft light of early morning. The machine seemed to be moving even as it stood perfectly still. I licked my bottom lip. Lock leaned in over my shoulder. His breath warmed the side of my face.

“What’s not to like about a CVO Electra Glide?” I asked.

We were at the club compound where I would leave my car parked overnight.

“Had to splurge,” he said. “It’s great for long trips. The older I get, my body demands more comfort. This definitely qualifies. Have you ridden on one before?”

“Once in Texas, but just for a short test run.”

“You must have ridden on plenty of bikes working those stores.”

“I did. But you know better than I do, it’s not the bike that makes the rider,” I said. “I dated a few weekend warriors over the years. They would spend amazing amounts of money all the time on bikes and gear, but so what. It was never the same. They handled the bikes differently. I just… felt it. I don’t know,” I murmured.

Lock aimed a smug grin at me and went back to packing my rain gear in his saddlebags. That buzz ripped right through me at the sight of him all decked out in his aviator mirrored sunglasses, his leathers, the hoodie over his head. I averted my gaze.

“Nice rain gear,” he said.

“Thanks. The skies change here so quickly. Better prepared than wet.”

“Absolutely.”

“And these.” I handed him two frozen water bottles. His lips twitched.

“I told you, you’re no ordinary fender, baby,” he said, his voice wrapped around the words lazily. “Organized.”

I grinned back at him. No matter how cool the weather may be, out on the asphalt, under the burning engine of the bike for a long stretch of time, the two of us in leathers and under helmets, things would get hot very quickly. Frozen water melting into cold drinkable water would be an asset.

“By the way,” Lock said. “I was thinking we could go up Highway 212 through Montana instead of I-90 all the way. I-90 is quicker, but boring, it’s all desert pretty much. 212 is only two lanes, but a better ride.”

“Definitely, 212.”

“It’ll take longer,” he said.

“I know. Doesn’t matter. 212.”

A slight smile curled his lips. “Good,” he murmured.

Jump and Alicia walked over to us.

“Ready to head out?” asked Jump

“Yeah,” Lock said. Jump put his hand on Lock’s shoulder and pulled him away for a private chat.

“Any problems?” I asked Alicia.

“Demon Seed crap, what else. Those assholes are still on our backs after all these years. The boys like their club the way it is. Those mothers want us to patch in.

My eyes flew open. “Become Demon Seeds? Is that some kind of joke?”

“They’ve become a big regional organization now. The One-Eyed Jacks have kept things small, the chapter in North Dakota, the chapter in Colorado. Just like you remember, but that’s it.”

“So they want their grubby fingers in our humble pie, huh?”

“Something like that. Anyway, Jump cleared everything for you and Lock so things should be friendly out there.”

I nodded.

Alicia’s hand reached out and rubbed my upper arm. “Lock’s a good guy. You can trust him.”

I looked down at my black leather boots. “He seems… nice.”

“Nice?” Alicia barked out a laugh. “You know better than that, hon!”

I blinked up at her. We both broke out into laughter.

“By the way, how did he get his road name?” I asked.

Alicia let out a sigh and flipped her impossibly straight long blonde hair behind her shoulders. “You remember, he was on some kind of special assignment when Wreck died, and he couldn’t make it home for the funeral,” she said. “Well, when he finally did get back from soldiering just after your thing, and with both Dig and Wreck gone, we kept waiting for him to explode, let loose. Never did. He kept to himself at Wreck’s cabin. From a kid he was always kind of quiet and kept to himself. But after all that, he took it to a whole new level.” Alicia shook her head slightly. “He took on lots of scary shit for the club one right after the other, got into plenty of fights at parties and bars. The usual crap, but throughout all of it, he was so contained, even in a fight and definitely after. He’d walk away, bloody, bruised, get on his bike and take off like some terminator robot. Days later, he’d be back for more.”

“Kept it locked down,” I murmured.

Alicia nodded. “Many a woman has tried to get under that exterior of steel, but none have succeeded.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“He’s had plenty of women, but only a few steady ones over the years,” Alicia said. “None of them ever lasted. But hey, if you’re looking for a simple good time, why the fuck not? Go for it. I would.”

I tugged at the waistband of my jeans. “I was just wondering about him, that’s all,” I said. “He strikes me as a bit unusual.”

“He’s a good guy underneath. But where women are concerned, if he’s not interested, he’ll let you know, and you need to believe him. That’s the way he keeps it. Some girls think they can win him over or rescue him. I see it all the time.”

“All the time, huh?”

“And it never works,” Alicia said. “It always ends badly for them. Actually, there was just another one the other night after you’d left the party. The idiot pitched a fit.” She rolled her eyes.

My face heated, and I averted my gaze.

“Anyway, just keep that in mind. You know how that shit goes.” She squeezed my arm. “I’ve got to get back home, get Wes to school,” she said.

Alicia and Jump’s son. They have a son.

Something twisted deep in my chest. “What grade is he in now?” I asked.

“He’s a freshman in high school this year,” she said, her eyes beaming. “You wouldn’t believe the shit I put up with!”

High school.

She pulled me into her arms and gave me a hug. “Take care, Sister. Good luck with everything.”

“Thanks for being here so early to see me off.”

“Of course,” she said. “When you get back we should have a girls’ night out, huh? Love you.” Alicia sauntered over to her husband in her skinny jeans and high-heeled boots and reached up and kissed Jump. She turned and gave me a final wave as she climbed into her navy blue Jeep Grand Cherokee.

“Good luck with everything, Little Sister,” said Jump. He gave me a quick hug. “Lock will take care of shit for you.”

“Thanks for everything, Jump.”

“Sure thing, sweetness,” he said.

“Later,” Lock said.

A scowling Lock turned to me. A bandana was now knotted around the neck of his tight charcoal grey henley. Over his hoodie he wore a thick professional leather riding jacket. Long, lean, dark. I held my breath as he moved closer to me.

He handed me a pair of ear plugs. “Once we hit the highway, you might need them for the wind noise.”

I smirked and opened the palm of my hand to reveal my own pair.

He shook his head. “Shit, I’m an idiot.” His fingers brushed the side of my face.

Oh crap, there it was again—dark, dangerous,
and gentle.

He zipped up his jacket. “Let’s roll.”

I secured a bandana around my forehead to catch the perspiration that would surely come under the helmet and fit the lid Lock had given me over my head. With one hand on his shoulder, I mounted the bike.

Montana here we come.

The trip would take almost five hours. I peered over Lock’s left shoulder and took in the road being eaten up by the massive Harley. I smiled at the memory of Alicia’s lecture to me on my first long bike run with Dig:
“Don’t shift your weight unnecessarily on the bike. Your Old Man has got enough to concentrate on commanding that machine at high speed once he gets on the highway.

Being on these roads of my youth again after so many years away, made my chest constrict at the sight of the raw, bleak landscape. A Sunday rider I had once dated in Texas had remarked to me that the Dakotas were “a whole lot of nothing that lasted forever.” I dumped his ass after that.

The ancient hills and rock formations dotted the now sun-filled horizon before us on the road. The wide gold and green bands of wheat and alfalfa fields side by side made me smile after all this time away. Aging grain silos stood sentinel while towering wind mills churned in the company of the occasional shiny cell phone tower.

The farmland eventually gave way to rolling expanses of dry yellow brush dotted with pockets of green trees and wild grasses. A flutter went off in my chest as I took in the wide-open space that stretched out into infinity. No, it wasn’t dull to me. There was profound beauty in that raw, quiet majesty. Had I ever truly appreciated that beauty years ago? The fresh cold air ripped around us. There was nothing like tearing through it on the back of this formidable Harley with Lock.

Once we got on the interstate the wind kicked up along with our speed. I stayed as close against Lock’s body and held on tight. Not a chore. I sat as still as humanly possible to decrease my resistance for him, not letting the hard wind get between me and the bike or me and him. My lips curled into a smile against my helmet.

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