CHAPTER SIX
CAPONE
“Thanks for getting me out of there,” she says as she tucks my helmet under her arm and brushes her fingers through her long brown hair.
Look away, Capone.
Look the fuck away.
By some miracle of God, I manage to listen to the tiny voice inside my head, but it doesn’t help matters much. I feel just as rattled as I did thirty seconds ago when I killed the engine on my Harley. You would think the fucking bike was on fire by the way I jumped off the thing. But I needed to put some space between me and her because it felt like I was being burned alive.
The flames licking up my legs where Tara’s thighs hugged mine.
Incinerating my kutte and branding my back where she pressed her perky little tits.
If I wasn’t so sure I’d get myself into more trouble, I’d strip myself of my clothes and douse them in kerosene. I’d take a bath in bleach and pray her scent washed away.
I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.
This is little Tara Burnside.
Maverick’s daughter .
The princess of the Satan’s Knights.
She’s the picture of innocence and I’m the definition of filth.
I recite all those things over and over and tell myself to snap out of whatever the fuck this is. Then I glance back at her, and I really wish I didn’t because seeing her straddle my bike, a bashful smile playing on her pretty pink lips, it’s worse than hell.
One ride on the back of my bike and she’s got me feeling unhinged, staring at the freckles on the bridge of her nose, wondering if she has them anywhere else on her body.
I tear my eyes away from her and focus on my helmet. How the fuck am I supposed to put that thing on my head ever again?
My eyes dart around the school parking lot, searching for her car.
“Where are you parked?”
“I’m in the next lot over. This one is for faculty only,” she says.
I drag my eyes back to her, watching as she slides off my Harley, setting my helmet on the seat. I was so desperate to get rid of her, I didn’t even realize I pulled into the wrong parking lot.
“I could take you over there,” I mutter. The thought of her body clinging to mine again makes me break out into a sweat.
“It’s not a far walk.” She moves to the back of my bike, and bends over to untie her bag from it, giving me a perfect view of her ass.
Jesus Christ.
If my crimes as an outlaw didn’t already buy me a ticket to Hell, ogling Tara’s ass is bound to do the trick.
“I got it,” I growl, making my way toward her. I undo the bungee cords and release the bag. But instead of giving it to her, my fist tightens around the strap as I straighten to my full height. Unfortunately, my gaze snags on her chest. She appears to be wearing a bra today— a plus if her nipples weren’t hard and visibly poking through the thin fabric of her tee. I guess she’s not a fan of stuffing her bra with tissues like my sisters used to.
“I’ll walk with you.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” She holds out her hand for the bag, but I don’t budge. I’m a glutton for punishment.
“Wasn’t asking for permission, Tara.”
Instead of leading the way to where her car is parked, she just stands there, crossing her arms against her chest, unintentionally exposing a hint of cleavage.
Fuck my life.
“Any day now,” I growl.
“Did I do something wrong?”
Losing my patience, I turn my back to her and start to walk away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Well, it’s just… we seemed to be getting along before Mark showed up. It felt like we called a truce.”
I stop in my tracks, muttering a curse. It’s not her fault I can’t control myself. That shit is on me. My jaw ticks and I grind my molars.
“I’m sorry. I’ll lose the attitude.” Nothing about that sounds apologetic though.
“I’m still sensing a bit of irritation from you. It’s not a good vibe.”
“For fuck’s sake, I’m not irritated.”
“Oh, so you’re always this grumpy?” She uncrosses her arms and shrugs her shoulders. “I never noticed.”
“Yeah, well, there’s a lot I didn’t notice about you either.”
Like her perky tits, and that cinched waist. And let me not forget that ass…round, firm, and just fucking perfect. I clear my throat and force myself to focus.
“I guess that makes us even.”
Lies.
So many fucking lies.
Her brows furrow with confusion for a second, then she snatches the bag from my hand, and steps around me.
“Thanks for the ride.”
As much as I’d like to leave her here so I can go home and bleach my eyes, I can’t. Maverick was specific with his rules and unless she’s with the family, or at the clubhouse, I need to stick close.
“Where are you going?” I call out.
“That’s none of your business,” she says, not bothering to turn to face me. She continues to walk toward the other lot, and I follow like the gopher I am until she almost trips. My reflexes are quick, and I extend my hands, clutching her hips to steady her before she falls face first against the pavement.
Her hands cover mine as she tries to balance herself out, but the second she tries to put her weight on her right leg, her back falls against my chest.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” she replies. “I think it’s a Charlie horse or something.” She goes to straighten herself again, only managing to put weight on her left leg. Latching onto my arm, she stretches her right leg, bending it at her knee, and extending it slowly.
“It might be from the way I keep my legs on the bike. It happened the other night when Uncle Shady took me home too.”
“What did you do to make it go away then?” I ask.
She shakes her head as she continues to stretch her leg, only wincing slightly this time. “Nothing, it went away pretty quickly on its own.”
Still holding onto me, she lowers her foot back to the ground and slowly transfers her weight.
“I think I’m okay,” she says, cautiously releasing my arm. She takes a few steps, and there is a visible gait to the way she walks.
“I’ll drive you home.”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. Besides, don’t you have to follow me? If it happens again, I’ll just pull over.” She takes another few steps and her gait gets a little better. I stay close to her until we reach her car, then she turns to me. “I get it.”
Not following, I ask, “You get what?”
“The difference between giving people something to laugh about and giving them something to talk about. There’s a good chance I won’t be the butt of a cruel joke when I walk into school tomorrow. People will be too busy talking about how you flipped Mark the bird before you rode off with me on the back of your bike.” She flashes me a smile. “The tires were a nice shot, but that was a giant fuck you. And I’m not mad about it.”
That fucking smile is devastating to a guy like me.
I take the keys from her hand, and hit the locks, opening the door for her. My eyes lock with hers, and for a split second I get lost in the colors I find there.
“Glad I could oblige.” My gaze trails down her body, back to her leg. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”
“I’m fine.”
She tosses her bag in the car, and slides behind the wheel. Desperate to put some distance between us, I slam the door shut without saying another word. Maybe tomorrow the big guy in the sky will take pity on me and make her go home straight after school. The less interaction the better.
“I don’t get you,” I call out to Tara as she stalks away from me.
In the last week it’s become a trend of ours. We get along for about ten minutes, then I get spooked and say something to sabotage the moment, and she takes off.
I’ve never chased a girl in my life, but I sure as fuck seem to be making up for lost time.
“What happened to the girl in the woods? The one that lunged for the guy who wronged her? Huh? Where the fuck did that girl go?”
Her steps come to a halt, and she turns to face me, narrowing her eyes into tiny slits.
“She’s standing in front of you, getting ready to kick you in the balls.”
I scoff. “Of course, because you’re so quick to give me shit, but you’re a fucking mouse when it comes to dickface.”
I wasn’t going to call her out on the fact that she’s cut out of school every day since the Waffle House. I was a senior in high school once, and I forged passes to my car every fucking day. I would tell the teacher I left my textbooks in the trunk. Getting past the security guards was a breeze. They worked on bribes and loved the pizza from my pops’ shop. I kept them fed, and they kept me out of school.
But I wasn’t cutting out to avoid an ex like Tara, something she let slip yesterday when she left before her last class of the day. Apparently, Mark and the new flavor of the week sit in front of her in physics.
I caught her leaving school right before the last class and followed her just as I did all week. I don’t know if I’m good at tailing her, or if she’s just oblivious but I didn’t make my presence known until she went to Starbucks, and I snuck up behind her while she placed her order. The goal was to rattle her, but then she distracted me with her pretty fucking smile, and that smart mouth of hers.
Today, I’m not letting her leave the school parking lot without laying out some facts. I’m starting to feel like a fucking creep sitting out here every day. I’m not supposed to be on the clock until she gets out at ten to three, and I’m here at one every afternoon because I never know when she’s going to dip out.
“For as long as I’ve been a member of your dad’s club, all I hear is how fierce you are. How you’re a clone of your mother. But I’m looking at you, and all I see is a girl who is running scared from a piece of shit who never deserved her to begin with.”
As soon as the words leave my lips, I wish I could take them back because her eyes shine with unshed tears.
“Fuck you,” she snaps, her lower lip quivering. I shouldn’t feel so fucking victorious, but damn, I do. Those two words are proof of life.
“There she is…” Before I can think better of it, I close the distance between us, but she quickly takes a step back.
“I don’t want to be near you right now.” She turns abruptly and starts to power walk toward her car. I follow her, my long legs easily eating up the space she tries to put between us.
“You’re Tara Burnside,” I yell at her back. “You were born into biker royalty. It’s high time you start acting like it. You do that, and no one will ever shit on you. Not some guy who can’t keep his dick in his pants, or some little girl who can’t keep her legs closed.” I grit my teeth. “No one.”
She turns around so quickly that we almost collide. My hands instinctively fly to her hips to steady her, but she beats me to it, laying her palms flat against my chest as she shoves me back.
That’s it, princess.
Get mad.
“You really think I don’t wake up every day and wish it were me who slashed Mark’s tires? That I don’t lay in bed every night imagining how sweet it would be if I could humiliate him and Claudia? I fucking dream about it and in my dreams I always knock her perfect teeth right down her throat. But I can’t do any of that because that’s exactly what everyone expects of me. You think being Tara Burnside is such a blessing, but it’s not. Everyone thinks I’m biker trash. Claudia…her friends…the whole fucking cheer squad. Hell, I bet the football team does too. But when I was with Mark, they respected him enough to keep their mouths shut. Now, everyone and their mother has an opinion and if they’re not talking shit behind my back, they’re sitting behind their phone screens, commenting on all my videos. So excuse me if I don’t feel like giving them the fucking satisfaction of being right.”
It takes a minute for all that to sink in, but as soon as it does, anger starts to rage inside of me. Us bikers get a bad rap, even the ones that abide by the law and serve their community. People see the leather and they make their ignorant judgment calls. I never thought all that shit would bleed over and make the ones we’re close to guilty by association.
“Fuck them,” I snap.
She rolls her eyes. “You would say something like that.” She huffs out a breath. “But it’s easier said than done.” She crosses her arms against her chest and cocks her head to the side. “Why do you think I’m still a virgin? I can promise you it’s not because I’ve grown an attachment to my hymen or am contemplating becoming a nun. The second I started dating Mark, everyone started calling me a slut. They said the only reason he was dating me was because I put out. Holding onto my v-card gave me power over their lies and let me control the narrative. But I can’t win no matter what I do. If I’m not the biker slut dating the football player, I’m the stupid little virgin who let her boyfriend stray because she didn’t spread her legs on command.”
The last thing I want is to be discussing her fucking virginity. Jesus Christ how the fuck did we get here?
“Tara—”
“Don’t fucking Tara me, Capone. I’ll get over Mark cheating on me, and one day I’ll be able to see him with Claudia and not give a damn, but today is not that fucking day, and tomorrow might not be the day either. Now, I’m getting out of here. You can either follow me like a good little biker in case the cartel decides to off me, or you can get lost. Either way, I don’t care.”
She goes to spin around, but I snag her wrist.
“I go where you go. Pick a place, any place, just please don’t mention your virginity to me ever again.”
I will get on my knees and beg if I have to.
She eyes me skeptically.
“Anywhere?”
I’d take her to the fucking moon so long as she shuts her mouth.
“Anywhere you want. Just leave your phone in the car like you always do so Holly doesn’t track you.”
I don’t know what encouraging her to deceive her parents says about me, but I’ll worry about that later.
“Fine,” she says, smacking her lips together. “I want to go shopping. I need a new a bra, and there’s a pair of leggings in Lululemon I heard does wonders for your ass. Can we stop at the food court while we’re there? I’m craving Italian.”
I bite back a groan and grit my teeth.
This girl is going to be the death of me.
But maybe if she gets a new bra, she’ll be more inclined to fucking wear one.
“Great,” I grind out. “So long as you straighten that crown, princess.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, laughing hysterically.
Yeah, she’s sorry alright.
“I’m just picturing you with a unicorn hat on your head.”
I sigh, uncurling my fists. “You won’t have to picture it, you’re gonna see it play out in real time because you’re coming with me.”
The playful expression falls from her face, and she raises an eyebrow.
“I am?”
“Yeah, I don’t have time to take you back to your car.”
“Scared of Mommy, are you?”
I shake my head. My mother is crazy but she’s also a saint and me being her only son has me sitting at the top as her favorite.
“No, it’s my Nonna who terrifies me. I love the old troll but put her in a ring with ten of the baddest motherfuckers and she and her wooden spoon are coming out the champs.”
For some reason that makes Tara’s smile return.
“Big, bad Capone is scared of his granny.” She throws her leg over the bike and slides off, making her way toward me. “I never would’ve guessed.”
“We all got something, princess.”
“So let me get this straight, you don’t have time to take me home, but you have time to make a pitstop at Walmart?”
“Yeah, well, if you didn’t take an hour to pick out a bra, I could’ve dropped you off at your car and been on my merry way. I’m already late, and I won’t show up to my niece’s birthday party empty-handed. To you I’m big, bad, Capone, but to Sophia, I’m Uncle G and I always deliver the best birthday presents.”
She smiles even wider. “Uncle G. I like that.”
“Don’t get any ideas, princess. The only people who call me that are my nieces and nephews.”
“What does the rest of the family call you?”
“Gianluca.”
“I think I’m going to start calling you that too.”
“I thought we already established that you’re going to call me master if Capone doesn’t work for you.”
“You wish.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. There are so many ways I could reply to that, but none of them are appropriate, so I let her have the last word.
On the way to the mall, I made a pact with myself. I was still reeling from all that shit about her being biker trash that she revealed outside the school. I wanted to fucking torture everyone who ever made her feel less than what she is. But as I thought of all the ways I’d do that, I realized I was no better than those ignorant fucks. We are stuck with one another, and I can’t keep acting like a dick just because I can’t get a grip on my own shit.
I need to find a way to deal with her. Keep things light. Focus on the humor of the situation and not the fact that I suddenly find her attractive or that I’m quite possibly infatuated with the freckles on her nose and the way her perky little nipples always seem to salute me.
She loops her arm through mine like it’s totally fucking natural for her to touch me and drags me into the store. We make our way to the toy section, and she helps me pick out the perfect gift for my niece—the latest Ariel doll to add to her Disney princess collection. Then she gives me shit for not wrapping it, claiming that ripping the paper off a present is the best part of receiving one. So me being the sucker that I am, buys the roll of pink wrapping paper. Tara even gets me for a bow and some scotch tape. I draw the line at a card, though. Sophia’s three, she can’t read, and those four dollars and ninety-nine cents are better in my pocket than Mr. Hallmark’s.
After I pay, we make our way to the parking lot where she wraps Sophia’s present. I secure the gift in my saddlebags and throw the rest of the pink paper in the trash. I tamper down the urge to bitch about wasting five dollars on a roll of wrapping paper and take the high road. The present does look nice. I might even hire Tara to wrap all my Christmas presents this year. I’ll be the MVP this holiday season and throw my family for a loop when I show up to Christmas Eve and my gifts aren’t shoved in plastic bags from the gas station.
I straddle my bike, and I wait for Tara to wrap her arms around my middle. I’ve gotten used to the feel of her pressed against me. Hell, I even crave it.
Last night I took a ride to ease the restless feeling in my bones, and I found myself wishing she was wrapped around me. It fucking ruined my head.
I’m about to take off when my phone rings. I balance the bike between my thighs and grab my phone from the inside pocket of my kutte. As soon as I see Holly’s name flash across the screen, I mutter a curse.
“What’s wrong?” Tara calls over my shoulder.
It probably wasn’t a good idea to tell Tara to leave her phone in her car at the school, but at the time I was worried Holly would track her and find out that she was cutting school. But school got out two hours ago, and neither of us thought to call Holly to let her know she was with me.
I’m not sure that information would help the situation. I’m supposed to be running interference between Tara and Mark. High jacking her for the rest of the day wasn’t on the agenda. But at least she wouldn’t be worried her daughter was lying in a ditch somewhere.
The phone continues to ring, and I stare at it like its bomb about to detonate at any fucking second. How the fuck am I going to explain any of this shit?
Before I can figure it out, Tara plucks the phone from my hand and accepts the call.
“Hey, mom,” she says. “No, I think I left it in my car. It’s fine, though. I’m with Capone.”
She pauses for a beat. “We’re leaving Walmart. I know, I know, but we called a truce.”
I brave a glance at her through my sideview mirror and our eyes lock. She flashes me that smile of hers and something in my chest tightens. Fuck the freckles and her ever hard nipples, the girl has a killer smile. The kind that punches a man in his gut every time she unleashes it. “No, he had to pick up a gift for his niece. I don’t know what time I’ll be home. We’re going to her birthday party. Hold on.”
Keeping her eyes pinned to mirror, she leans into my back and holds the phone over my shoulder. “She wants to talk to you.”
Fuck me.
Tearing my eyes away from her reflection in the mirror, I take the phone.
I’m not equipped to deal with Holly on a good day and today is clearly not one of those days. I finally find my balls and lift the phone to my ear, bracing myself for the verbal tongue lashing.
“Holly,” I greet, clenching my jaw. “How’s it going?”
“Cut the shit, Capone. What’s going on?”
I flinch at her tone. Holly terrifies me about as much as my Nonna does and she doesn’t have a wooden spoon tucked into her apron pocket. That’s not saying she doesn’t carry a signature weapon of her own. For all I know the woman has a pocketknife tucked away in those Timberland boots she’s always sporting.
I clear my throat, dismissing the thought.
“What do you mean?” I return.
“I mean a week ago you acted as though you wanted to turn in your patch and now you’re taking my daughter to meet your family. What happened to making sure she got to and from school without any enemies kidnapping her? Is something going on with the club? Is that why Maverick hasn’t been home in two days?”
I’m not about to get involved in their marital shit. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Since Maverick ordered me to tail Tara, I’ve been out of touch with whatever is going on with the club. I don’t know if that’s intentional or not, and I sure as fuck don’t know why Maverick hasn’t gone home.
“Mav is probably at the clubhouse,” I tell her. “You should go there. Talk to him.”
Ask him these questions, not me.
Tara’s eyes meet mine in the sideview mirror again, and I can tell by the way she chews on her lip, she’s worried about what she’s overheard. When you’re around someone so much, you learn to read their cues. Holly and Maverick might be together now, but they’ve been a part most of Tara’s life. It doesn’t surprise me that she’s concerned there may be trouble in paradise.
Without thinking, I lay my hand on her thigh and give it a reassuring squeeze.
It’s totally inappropriate, and yet, I let my fingers kneed her through the denim that encases her leg. I won’t allow it to be more than that. Not now, and not tonight when I’m lying in my bed, and I start to wonder how those toned things would feel bracketing my waist.
That would be fucking sinful of me.
Holly sighs through the line, jarring my attention back to her.
“When I finish up with my family, I’ll take Tara back there and you and Mav can take her home from there.”
“Look at you giving out orders.”
I stop myself from scoffing. Does the woman think I have a death wish?
“No, Ma’am. It’s just a suggestion.”
“Where is Tara’s car?”
“Fuck. It’s at the school still.”
“I’ll have Leftie drive me to pick it up. Keep my girl safe, Capone.”
My fingers dig deeper into Tara’s thigh, and I stare long and hard at her through the mirror.
“That I can do.”
It’s not a total lie. I can keep her ex-boyfriend away from her. I can probably shut down any fucking rumors those jealous little bitches want to spread about her too. And if there was ever a threat to her safety because of the club, I’d make sure no one got close enough to harm a hair on her head. But keeping her safe from me—well, that not something I’m certain I can deliver on.
I disconnect the call and shove the phone back inside my kutte.
“What was that about?”
My gaze locks with her in the mirror. “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head over.”
Then I give her thigh one last squeeze.
I don’t do it to comfort her.
I do it for all the wrong reasons.
I do it for me.
I do it because I like looking at her.
I like teasing her.
I like touching her too.
But most of all I do it because I like her smile.