Chapter Four

“When are you coming home? You were supposed to be here last night,” Faye bitches like she always does.

“Had a change of plans.”

“And you couldn’t be bothered to tell me? I’ve been worried sick.”

“Spent ninety percent of the night shitting my brains out from food poisoning.”

“Well, are you okay?”

“I’ve been better, but I’ve also been worse. How’s Henry?”

“Hasn’t shut up since you left. You know how he is. Goes room to room looking for you. I gave him one of your shirts and he pissed on it.”

I snort at that. My little buddy has an attitude. Since the moment he showed up on my front porch looking like a wet rat disguised as a kitten.

“Be home in about seven hours if I don’t kill over from this food poisoning. Make sure there’s a room ready at the clubhouse.”

“For who?”

“Club business.”

“Right. It’s always club business.”

“Don’t give me no lip, woman. Not when I’m not there to shut you up by ramming my dick down your throat.”

“That would require you actually being here.”

“Maybe I’d want to be there if you didn’t nag me to fucking death. You could’ve come. Your family would have loved to see you.”

“I told you it was Leona’s bridal shower. I couldn’t miss it. I’m her maid of honor.”

And I’m just your fucking husband. I don’t voice the thought.

It’d only lead to another argument. One of many we’ve been having lately.

Faye and I have reached what some call the seven-year itch.

We’ve been reduced to roommate status. People who share a space but not a life.

I’ve been trying to push through and find any reason to stay with her, but Faye’s a bitch and doesn’t make it easy to want to try.

I don’t know why I try. I know why she stays. She loves the status being my ol’ lady gives her. Loves being the queen bee. But she doesn’t love me. Not the way she once pretended to, and I can’t help but wonder why either of us bothers with this fucking charade.

I asked her to ride to California on the back of my bike. Thought it’d give us some much-needed time together. Her arms wrapped around me for the ride. Her body pressed to mine in my tent at night.

That maybe we’d reignite that short-lived spark we had.

Instead, I rode out without her and now I’m riding back with a beautiful yet broken beauty that isn’t my wife.

Faye will raise ten kinds of hell when I roll through that gate with Jessika’s tits pressed to my back and I’ll pay the price because the look on her face will be well worth it to remind her that she’s fucking replaceable.

If she doesn’t want to be with me, there’s five more bitches eager to take her spot any fucking day of the week.

“See you when I get back.” I end the call and glance back toward the motel. My gaze immediately lands on Jessika. My favor to Big Daddy. Getting her out of Anarchy. Away from the men who will be hunting her for exposing their plan to take him out.

Her bastard of a husband will be too busy trying to survive Big Daddy to worry about where Jessika has disappeared to, but that doesn’t mean the cartel won’t have her on their radar.

She needs to lay low until this shit blows over.

No better place to do it than Devil’s Creek.

My personal slice of heaven. A small town where everyone knows everyone but doesn’t share our secrets with outsiders.

She’ll be safe there under the protection of my chapter of the KOAMC. Under my protection.

Under me.

Fuck me, she is too damn tempting and sweet.

She looks cute wearing my white t-shirt tied up at her waist paired with them tight-fitting jeans that hug her curvy hips and fine ass.

I’ve never been jealous of a pair of jeans until now.

I shouldn’t be checking her out in front of everyone, but I’m a man and notice when a woman looks damn good and fuck me if she isn’t gorgeous.

A walking fantasy. She’s trouble. In every sense of the word.

Bad guys are after her and physically, she’s just my type.

Dirty blonde hair, gorgeous baby blues, and pouty red lips you just want to taste.

She’s in a danger and I’m compelled to be the man who saves her.

When I wave her over, she has this uneasy expression on her face. Pinched brows, tight lips, sadness is in her eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Peachy keen.”

I study her for a minute. “Did someone say something?”

“You mean, did anyone tell me about the wife you failed to mention?”

“Look.”

“You know what? Don’t explain. It doesn’t matter. We can pretend nothing happened. No one has to know.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yeah.” She drops the conversation there. Easy. Simple.

My gut tells me this is far from over, but if this is her play, I’ll let her have it for now.

I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking fucking her and putting her on the back of my bike. Guess that’s the problem. I wasn’t thinking. At least not with my goddamned brains.

“Good. Let’s hit the road.”

Jessika climbs on my bike, wrapping her arms snug around my center.

The pointed end of her helmet resting on my shoulder.

Her touch feels a little too good. Especially when I’m missing the way shit used to be between Faye and me.

The problem is, I’m uncertain if I miss Faye or companionship.

I’d been faithful up until last night outside of an occasional blowjob on the road, but has she?

That’s a question I keep asking myself, but don’t know if I really want the answer. Because it means I’ve failed.

And I don’t fail.

At anything.

When we married, she made me promise her two things. If I stepped out on her, I’d never do it at home where it could be rubbed in her face and that I’d never get anyone pregnant.

Fuck me.

I didn’t even ask Jessika if she was on the pill. Bringing it up now would only make me look like an even bigger asshole.

Her husband beat the shit out of her and I took advantage.

I’ll make it up to her somehow. Some fucking way.

I manage to ride a few hours before I’m pulling off for the bathroom. Jessika was right about those fucking gas station burritos. I’m dehydrated and feel as though my insides are going to blow out of my asshole if I don’t vomit them up first.

“Fuck, man. You look like hell,” Gray, my VP says as I stumble out of the bathroom wanting nothing more than to crawl into a soft bed and shut the world out for ten hours until I sleep this shit off.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Are you going to be able to ride?”

I stare at the reflection of my men in the gas station window, but my gaze immediately locks in on someone it shouldn’t.

Jessika. I’m drawn to her like a fucking magnet, unable to keep my eyes off her.

She’s cramming white powdered donuts into her mouth, looking like she’s been blowing a clown’s dick with all that white sugar around her pretty lips.

She catches me staring at her and I glance away, pretending I wasn’t staring at her mouth, wondering if her lips taste as sweet as I’m imagining. I’ve not had a taste of them being she has stitches, but since last night all I’ve wanted is to kiss her fucking stupid.

My stomach grumbles, interrupting my thoughts. Reminding me I can’t be tempted to stray from my wife again.

I’ve got to get my shit together.

This shit is embarrassing. I’m supposed to be the bad ass president of a motorcycle club and can’t ride for nearly shitting my pants every twenty minutes.

I should let her ride with Gray, but he’s got my sister riding bitch with him, and I know Low damn sure isn’t about to give up that seat.

I’m well aware my little sister has a crush on my VP, but he swears he doesn’t see her that way.

He views her the same way I do. Like family, or so he claims. It’d break her heart if she knew he has a thing going on with Madz, one of the club girls.

One day, that scene is going to play out. It’ll be bad. It’ll hurt, but she’ll get over it.

“We can stop over for one more night.”

“And have Faye accuse me of being delayed because I’m fucking around on her?

No thanks.” The truth is, I don’t trust myself to spend another night alone in a room with Jessika and not make another pass at her.

She doesn’t need that right now and I’m a married man.

I need to act like it. Faye’s name tattooed across my finger itches in reminder.

I made a promise. Gave my word to cherish and honor her as my ol’ lady.

I’ve never been tempted to break that vow until now.

Until Jessika.

“Faye’s a bitch,” he mutters under his breath, but I hear it all the same.

“Watch it.” I can call my woman a bitch all I want to. When someone else does it, that’s a different story. That’s an ass kicking. He’s lucky I’m concentrating on staying upright.

“Then why isn’t she on the back of your bike?”

I pop another acid reducer, ignoring his question. I wish I knew the answer to that. “Let’s ride.”

“One day, your pride is going to kill you.” Gray shakes his head but falls in line.

“You’ve got a little something on your mouth.” I grin and swipe my thumb under Jessika’s bottom lip.

She swallows hard, her baby blues scorching me with confusion. “Thanks.”

I wet my lips and am tempted to lick the powder from my thumb, but am afraid it will cause another reaction in my stomach. “No problem.”

“You sure you’re okay? Do you need me to ride with someone else?”

“No,” I snap out the word a bit too harshly. “You ride with me.” I wipe my hand on my pant leg and help her fasten her helmet.

She starts to say something but stops short.

Back on my Road King, she wraps her arms around my center, squeezing too tight for comfort with the way my stomach is grumbling. “Hands up here.” I wrap a hand around one of her wrists and position her grip around my ribs.

Once more, we ride out in formation, not stopping again until we need to refuel and stretch our legs.

My stomach finally stopped rumbling about an hour ago. I think I’m through the worst of it.

While Jessika has lunch with the rest of my crew, I go over the tail end of our ride with my Road Captain, Caves.

I want to avoid the road construction in Oklahoma, but taking the back roads could cost us as much time.

Back in the mid 90s, my old man held the position.

I remember him spreading maps out on the dining room table.

Shit wasn’t as easy as it is today with the click of an app.

That was before we patched in to be Kings.

Back then, our club was smaller, but as our business grew and the risks became greater, the need to patch into the Kings became necessary.

They had the reputation and connections we needed to expand into what we are today.

And with that came my marriage to Faye. We started out as club business, but then there was a time I thought we shared something real.

Speaking of the fucking she-devil.

My cell buzzes with a call from Faye.

“Yo.” I pick up on the second ring.

“What’s this bullshit about you having some skank riding bitch?”

“Tell you about it when I see you.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me, Woods. You better give me one good reason why I should still be here when you drag your sorry ass home.”

“I will. When I see you.”

“You roll up here with another woman riding with you and we’re through.”

“I don’t have time for one of your temper tantrums. Told you we’d talk when I get there.

” I hang up before we both say some shit we will regret.

She’s not pissed about Jessika. All she’s worried about is what others might say about her.

If she was that fucking concerned, she should have come with me.

Maybe then I wouldn’t have fucked someone else.

Maybe then I wouldn’t want to fuck them again and again.