Temperance: Biker Romance (The Davis Chapter Book 2) (13 page)

I was the only one that voted no?
Fuck
. Even Bandit? Un-
fucking
-beleivable. I couldn't believe I had been betrayed by the men that I had come to call them brothers.

Trask actually laughed. “Well damn, that was almost unanimous.”

My blood was boiling with seething rage. I was about to let them know exactly how I felt, but the prez went on.

“It is official, the Rising Sons will not be doing business with South America.” His eyes met mine. “You ok, Celeste?”

God knows what my face looks like. It has probably gone from borderline insanity to wide-eyed confusion. I had completely misinterpreted the vote. As usual, I was getting ahead of myself and judging people without knowing the facts. Before anyone could say another word, I laughed it off. “Yeah, sorry. Something I ate isn't sitting right, I guess.”

Thunder wiped the ballots into his hand and crumpled them up. Everyone in the place started talking and throwing back their beers, like it didn’t matter to them. One question stuck in my mind, just like one vote. Who had voted in favor? I looked around the room, and only one person hadn't been in the fight at Conrad’s. Only one person was under suspicion of working with the Devil’s Chasers.
Romero...

If anyone was suspicious of Romero, they didn’t say anything. I looked around to see if any of the faces around me gave away their feelings. Before I could, Thunder coughed, drawing the attention to him. Any bad vibes were washed away when Thunder stood up.

“Glad we've got the business out of the way, because I’ve got an announcement.” He looked around the group. “As you know, Carla and I have been together for a while now, and it’s been getting pretty serious.

“I bet it has.” Trask was the one making a joke, which was unusual for him. I figured he was just trying to break the mood after the odd vote.

“Haha, very funny, Prez. Anyway, I want to announce that I will finally be making her an honest woman. We’re hoping to set the wedding for two months from this Sunday.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” From somewhere in the crowd, I heard Stache’s voice. “Are we invited or not?”

“After some serious soul searching, I have decided that you worthless group of rejects will be invited. We’re gonna have a small ceremony in Northstar Park. Invitations to come, assholes.”

The news about the Brazilians and Conrad was gone. It wasn’t on any biker’s mind as they celebrated Thunder’s upcoming wedding. I couldn’t help but get choked up thinking about it. As rough as the Rising Sons were, love and loyalty were the two things they cared about the most in the entire world. Trask and Hope had the kind of relationship that you could just see. It was like an aura of strength around them. Hearing Thunder talk made me feel like he and his girlfriend had something similar.

A strange thing happened. As men cheered Thunder and clanked their beer together, Bandit’s hand tightened at my waist. He pulled me to him until our hips bumped and we were one. I smiled and turned to look up at his face. There was something powerful in his eyes. I shook my head. “What?”

He gestured towards Thunder. “His girlfriend, fiancé, I guess. Her name’s Carla. She has quite a story. Ask her about it some time.”

I nodded. “But that’s not why you’re grinning like an idiot. What’s up, Bandit?”

“Not sure.” He looked away from me. “I guess I’m just thinking about that.”

“What?”

“A wedding.”

His words were plain and true, and they took me by surprise. I knew Bandit was completely devoted to me, but it was another one of those things that the two of us had just never talked about. I had dreamed of marrying him, but I wasn’t going to bring it up so early in our rekindled romance.
 

I didn’t think I was even ready to jump in so deeply at that point, but Bandit beat me to that point. “I don’t mean this second, but it’s definitely something that’s been on my mind the last week or so.”

“A
week
?” I was incredulous. Bandit didn’t seem like the type to think about marriage, let alone have it on his mind for so long. “Well, maybe you and I should take a drive this evening and talk about it.” I gave him a smile that he understood well. We’d talk, but only after a little bit of naughty fun in nature.

The Watering Hole was like a different world. On the outside, most of the Rising Sun had legitimate jobs. They paid taxes, they were good neighbors, and they stayed out of trouble. Once they stepped through the door to the bar, they changed. Once they put on that cut with the skull on the back, every normal, mundane things about them went out the window.

At first, I felt strange inside the club. After three months, I felt strange outside the club. The regular world where everyone throws their cages and live there quiet life started getting to me. If the Rising Sun had a slow period with no jobs, I began to get restless. Even though I was never on the front lines, knowing that my man and his brothers were out there up to no good got my adrenaline racing. Bandit stories about old school brawls with renegade bikers got me more than hot and bothered. My favorite times were the late nights when Bandit came home from a mission and woke me for primal, rough sex that left me exhausted and tingling.

From living with Conrad to living the biker lifestyle with a huge change. Bandit and I had our rough moment, but I finally felt at home with him. We had a life that was finally coming together.

I began to think of the Rising Sons as my own brothers. I gave them advice with women when I could, help them with their personal finances, and did what I could to help take care of them. They were grown up adolescent boys, after all. It wasn't out of the ordinary to see one of my Rising Son come into the bar with a black eye or a poorly bandaged cut. They lived a hard life, but it was the only life they wanted. Things that had shocked me in the beginning were commonplace after those first three months.

There was nothing commonplace about the day that Romero dragged himself through the door covered in blood with a thousand-yard stare in his eyes, though.

“I’m in the shit bad, boys.” Romero's eyes were wide. I wondered if he knew about this letters of blood on his face. It was hard to see a man who is always in control lingering right on the edge. “I fucked up. I fucked up something awful.”

None of the Rising Sons seemed concerned. It was understandable. Romero had done nothing but pull away from the club day after day.

Trask stepped through the group. There was a dripping bar rag in his hand. He tossed it to Romero, who barely caught it in time. He stared down at it, maybe not sure what it was for.

“I should be pissed at you. I probably will be, but I want to hear your story first. Why don't you tell us why you are coming here like we owe you something, and while you're at it, maybe you explain why we should give a damn." Trask was hard as usual. He ran the Rising Sons with a firm hand, and it was working. Romero's true loyalty with coming more into question every day and the president did a good job saying what everyone else had been thinking for a long time.

Romero looked like he was about to speak, but Trask wasn’t done. “Maybe the first thing you explain is why we all get a Devil’s Branch vibe from you, Romero. Maybe you start right there.”

Romero nodded, his eyes on the floor of the bar. He didn’t look injured, but that blood came from someone. Every story I’ve ever heard about him made him sound tough as nails. Whatever shook him up, it was something bad. It took him a while to get his words together. He wiped his hands, the rag quickly turning red.

“The reason I’ve been in and out the last few months is because I’ve been spending time with somebody. Somebody I shouldn’t be saying. Somebody I can’t be seen with.” Romero kept wiping his hands. It was like the blood just wouldn’t come off.

Trask softened but not much. He took Romero by the shoulders and forced the man to look him in the eye. “Who have you been rolling with? Brazilians? The Devil’s Branch? The law?”

“No.” Romero’s eyes were still panicked and wide open. “Worse.”

Bandit stepped past me. There was nothing gentle about his voice, “Fuck, worse than any of them? Who the fuck is it?”

“Julie Capriani.”

The name didn’t mean anything to me, but Trask and Bandit knew exactly who he was talking about. Both men turned away from Romero, sour smiles on their faces. I looked around, utterly confused. Bandit caught my look, and I mouthed
Who
?

He threw his hands up in the air. “Wow. Just fucking wow, Romero. Nothing like being in bed with the enemy. Are you trying to get us fucked? Are you really doing this?” Bandit shoved Romero aside and walked passed him.
 

I still didn’t know who
the enemy
was, but I wasn’t about to interrupt.
 

Trask wasn’t any kinder than Bandit, saying, “You understand the risk you put us in, right?” Romero was staring off, again, so Trask brought the back of his hand across Romero’s face. It snapped him out of whatever stupor he was in.

“Fuck, man!”

“Start fucking talking Romero. I can’t help but get the feeling that there is more to this forbidden love story, especially since you look like a butcher on lunch break.” Trask shoved Romero down into a chair and pulled one up across from him.

“Okay, okay. Fuck, you didn’t have to hit me.”

Trask nodded. “Yes, I did.” His voice had calmed.

For the first time some bit of light came back to Romero’s eyes. I stood next to Stache, Thunder, and a new kid named Boomer. All of us transfixed. Bandit pulled a chair up beside Trask. The two leaders of the Rising Sons Davis chapter leaning forward, ready to hear Romero’s story.

“Julie and I have been together for a few months now. It’s all in secret, obviously. I know this is a minefield. I knew it when we started, but fuck. I can’t even describe her. Nothing short of perfection.” A smile crept onto his face. The blankness disappeared as he talked about Julie. Whoever she was, she was linked in with the wrong people, apparently.

Trask shook his head. “No offense, but I don’t give a fuck about your love life. Whose blood is this?”

 
“His name is Ty. He rolls with the Branch. Julie and I were out for a ride, and he found us. He confronted us, threatened to out me, the usual. I tried to be reasonable with him. I
really
did. We were out in the middle of nowhere, and he had this look in his eye. This look like he could earn his way to the top of the Devil’s Branch if he came back with my head. Even Julie tried to plead with him. Dude pulls a knife, and we went at it.” Romero lifted up his hand, and for the first time I saw that he
had
been wounded. The cut was small, but big enough to require stitches to close it.