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“That don’t take much to figure out, honey.” Marge rang up a customer’s bill and took the guy’s money with a smile and a thank you. “But we got inside information from Mama and Pops. Been lookin’ out for those boys for years.”
That surprised me. “Really?” I raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
“Ain’t my story. Might wanna check with Mama. She’s Thorn’s aunt. When you go to Salvation’s Bane, have him put you in touch with her.”
“I might just do that. How do you know Mama?”
“She and Pops helped me get this place started when I first moved here from Cuba.” Tito said. His lightly accented English had him pronouncing his homeland “Cooba.” “I was in trouble with the Cuban government and fled with my Elena. But when we got here, they wanted to immediately deport us. Mama worked some magic and the next thing I knew, Elena and I were US citizens. Once that happened, they had no way to deport us without divulging who they’d been in contact with. And no, I have no idea who ‘they’ are. But the Cuban government wanted me back at any cost to them. Mama ensured that price was too high for them to want to pay anymore.”
“Wow. Cryptic much?”
Tito grinned. “Only when I have to be.” It hadn’t escaped me that the lunch crowd was gone, leaving only me, Elena, Tito, and Marge.
“Sounds like you’re a very important man.”
He shook his head. “I might have been once, but now, my greatest importance is keeping the people of this community safe. That means I feed them and keep the people who protect them happy. Grim Road should be a part of that. Sí?”
I nodded. “I take your point. I think they already help some, but being in the limelight isn’t their strong suit.”
Tito tilted his head. “So… you have no say in that?” He nodded to my cut where one side had my name, the other my title. Vice President.
I scowled at him, pointing at him. “You, sir, are insufferable.”
Marge cackled. I even heard Elena chuckling from the back. “She’s got your number, Tito.” Marge said through her laughter. “And knowing Lemon, I’m sure there were other colorful words after it. But she’s a good girl and learning self-control.”
“I am not!” I protest hotly. “I’m a fucking badass!”
Tito chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, you do have a say in how they proceed. I suggest you have your man and his enforcer figure out a way to balance the two. The people of West Palm Beach could use everyone’s help. Along with other communities on the outskirts.”
“A problem for another time. But you’re right. I think I said much the same thing to the guys a month ago. Same. Only different.” I wanted them to work together. To have each other’s backs and no more secrets. I knew we’d accede to Tito’s wishes. Who better to protect the people who couldn’t protect themselves than a bunch of Black Ops bikers? It would take time to get them there, and that was OK. Rome wasn’t built in a day.
“You’re a good girl, Lemon.” Tito lifted his chin at me. “You’re good for the whole bunch.”
“And you know way more than’s good for you, old man.”
At that, Tito outright guffawed. Marge had to sit down and Elena poked her head out from the back, trying to look stern, but I saw her lips twitch.
“Some of us have work to do, flor pequeña. I suggest you get back to your side of town before Tito decides to go with you and leaves me all alone.”
“Geez Louise, Elena! Don’t wish that on me. One man is hard enough to deal with. I’d have to kill someone if I had two of the bossy bastards telling me what to do.”
Marge chuckled once again, and I waved and smiled as I walked out the door. The afternoon was hot and humid, a far cry from the climate I was used to in Evansville, Indiana with the Iron Tzars. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss the Tzars and, more importantly, my sisters. They belonged there. I belonged here. With Grim Road.
It wasn’t that they’d made me vice president, though I wanted to be the best vice president I could. It wasn’t even Rocket, though I loved that man more and more every single moment I spent with him. No. It was the whole club. I thought that every single member was a little broken inside. Dead. It was there in their eyes. I saw the way some of them looked at me and Rocket. It wasn’t that any of them wanted me. In fact, I think most of them would rather go to prison than spend a lifetime shackled with me. They wanted what Rocket had with me.
I’d been trying to figure out a way to fill that gap for them, but short of mail order brides I didn’t see any woman with any backbone putting up with the bullshit. And these men had to have women with backbone. Any woman claimed by any member of this club had to be in it for the long haul. To do that, they had to be able to stand up for themselves. Yeah. I was drawing a blank.
I climbed on the bike, chuckling softly as I stroked the pink gas tank. The guys hated this bike, but they drove it. All to put Gina at ease because of what they’d done to her. Sure, they hadn’t known she wasn’t willing, but they still saw it as a failure. I couldn’t reassure them they were wrong. Every single man who’d fucked Gina. Every. Single. One. They took her for rides on this Goddamned bike every fucking day the weather was fit. This club was full of honorable men, no matter what shady shit they’d done. They kept to their code and hurting innocent women -- especially like they had Gina -- was most decidedly not in their code.
Just as I reached down to turn the key, something hit me in the head. Fucking hard.
I fell with a groan, the world spinning. My ears rang and I tried to shake it off, but someone grabbed me by my hair and hauled me up. Or, rather, dragged me as I stumbled, trying to get my legs under me. I knew I needed to call out, scream, something, anything, but my head was still swimming and I wasn’t exactly sure I was capable. I was barely able to struggle and what I did manage was damned pitiful.
“Get her in the fuckin’ van before someone sees.” A gruff voice snapped the order. I grabbed at the guy’s hand on my hair, trying to ease the pressure on my scalp. Someone groped me, lingering on my ass. If these guys decided they were going to rape me, there was no way I was in any shape to stop them after that blow to the head. Fortunately, as quickly as it started, those hands stopped.
The next thing I knew, someone tossed me inside the van and slid the door shut with a slam. I still saw stars in my peripheral vision and wasn’t altogether certain I wasn’t gonna be sick.
I tried to look around, but rough hands shoved me to my front, snagging my hands behind my back and securing them.
