Inked Fighter: Complete Collection (MMA MC New Adult Romance) (14 page)

Chapter Nine: Damien

A few hours after my failed picnic with Claire, I went over to the clubhouse to check on things. Mondays were usually slow, but I’d made it a habit of checking over there at least once a night even on weekdays.

When I got there, I saw a car that looked exactly like Claire’s in the parking lot. I didn’t think much of it. It was an older model but a common enough car.

There were only a few guys there. Since I’d started being the heavy around the place, there had been fewer hangers-on or mindless parties. I walked through the front door and found a few of the regular guys drinking beer and watching a baseball game on TV.

“Hey, Damien. Are you coming on the run this weekend? It’s about time you come with us to one of our events,” said Perez.

“Where to?”

“Sacramento. Should be a good time. Martel is organizing something big for this run. There’s going to be a lot of other clubs from the area. It’d be a good time for you to show yourself as our club’s sergeant-at-arms.

“Maybe. Weekends are usually my busiest time at the shop.”

“It’s one weekend.”

I slid into the couch and watched the Giants play the Dodgers. The guys cheered for the Giants, but the Dodgers were up four runs. I kept my loyalty to my home team to myself, popped a bottle of domestic, and took a deep swig.

Thoughts of Claire’s anger melted away as I spent time with the guys, enjoying the game. Times like those made me wonder why I bothered with women at all. Love was a messy business, full of heartache and fury.

The boys cheered for a home run that tied the game, and the door swung open. Claire stood in the doorway with wild eyes I had never seen.

When she saw me, she stumbled backward and held onto the doorframe for support.

“Where is she?” she said through clenched teeth.

“Where is who?” said Perez.

“Where is my sister, Regan? I know she’s here. The car is in the parking lot. My neighbor told me she saw her coming in here.

“Oh, that crazy chick. She came over to hang out with my buddy Jason. They needed a room, know what I’m saying?”

“Show me.”

Perez led her to his bedroom and knocked on the door. I watched from behind as she pushed the door open. Jason was a skinny tattooed brat with money for a damn nice motorcycle from his loaded hippie parents. I’d seen him around, but never with Regan. I had no idea she had anything to do with him.

Jason was sitting on the bed smoking a joint, bare-chested with his legs under the covers. The dank scent of pot smoke wafted through the air.

“What the fuck, man?” said Jason at our intrusion.

“Where is Regan?” Claire barked.

“She’s in the bathroom,” he said, pointing to the hall. We all moved down the hall to the bathroom and Claire knocked.

“Go away,” came a female voice from within.

“Open the door, Regan,” said Claire, rattling the knob.

“Go the fuck home, Claire!”

I stepped forward and slid a credit card down the doorframe. It opened quickly. I’d dealt with this chick before. There was no telling what she was up to in there. The door swung open to reveal Regan sitting on the toilet with a needle in her arm.

Claire wailed and pushed her hands into her hair.

“Regan, what are you doing!”

Regan pulled the needle out of her arm and popped off the rubber hose that held her veins taut. She slipped off the toilet and curled into a fetal position next to the shower. Claire went into the room and pulled her to her feet.

“Come on, Regan,” she yelled, yanking her sister’s hand.

“Leave me alone, bitch.”

Claire managed to get her into the living room. All the guys stood staring at the spectacle. Regan was in a black tank top and a pair of matching boy-short panties.

“I’m staying here,” she insisted.

“No. I’m not leaving you where you get your fucking drugs.” Claire glared at me, as if I had something to do with it. I couldn’t blame her. I’d never told her about my involvement with the club.

“Get the fuck out, skank,” I said to Regan, hoping to somehow end the commotion. Regan went weak. Claire was finally able to tug her out of the building. I followed Claire to the car and tried to help her get Regan inside. Regan slumped over the backseat, sobbing. Claire slammed the door and whirled on me. 

“I should have known you were part of this. You’ve been lying to me this whole time. Was I some kind of joke to you?”

“I did this for you.”

“You run with drug dealers for me? Wow. How can I ever repay you?” She opened the driver’s side door and slipped inside, slamming it behind her.

“It isn’t like that. Wait.” She glared at me and rolled up her window, backing out of the parking spot. “Claire. I’m sorry!” I yelled at her taillights as she pulled onto the highway.

My heart contracted. I wanted to run after her and try to explain. What would I say? I’d had been lying the whole time. I didn’t even know what the truth was myself. I couldn’t breathe. The guys mumbled around me. Even Jason had gotten out of bed. I couldn’t hear their words. They buzzed in my ears like white noise. The one person that I gave a shit about had just driven away. I’d screwed it up.

The reason for my arrival was the last thing I wanted her to know. The story about my clients had been innocent in the beginning, but everything had escalated into a cascade of lies.

Finally, the rush of the present moment caught up with me, and I turned to the guys. “Where did the girl get the smack?”

“Not from me,” said Jason, throwing his hands in the air. “I didn’t know that chick did hard drugs, man. I don’t touch that shit.”

I looked around at the faces of the other club members. Most of them looked completely dumbfounded. I stormed inside and called Martel on my cell phone. When he arrived, we went straight upstairs to his office. I watched him walk across the room and sit in his chair. I stood in front of the desk with my arms folded, glaring down at him.

“Have a seat, son.”

“I need answers, Martel.”

“What kind of answers?” He looked tired. He rolled the cuffs of his collared shirt to reveal the tattoos underneath. He leaned back in his chair, waiting for me to sit down. He pressed the side of his fist against his mouth and rested his booted foot on his knee. I finally sat down, but my stare didn’t waver.

“We had a girl here today doing heroin in the bathroom.” The statement made Martel appear even more tired than before.

“We need to keep that shit out of here. That’s your job, Damien.”

“Is the club trafficking drugs.”

“Heroin? God no.”

“There have been too many secrets since I arrived. I need to know what is going on. No more secrets, no more lies.”

“No one’s been lying to you, kid. We brought you up here under less than ideal circumstances, but that couldn’t be helped. I needed to make sure you’d come. I knew you wouldn’t otherwise. This is where you belong. This is your home.”

“Why do you get to decide where my home is?”

Martel planted both feet firmly on the floor , leaned over his desk , and looked straight into my eyes. “Your father saved my life during the war. It was the man’s dying wish for you to be part of the club. I honor that wish. I owe him that much.”

“Where does what I want factor into the equation?”

“Haven’t I set you up with a nice place? Your own shop? You’re making more money now than you did in LA. I checked.”

“Why didn’t you just offer me the business in the first place?”

“Shit, Damien. To be part of the club, you need to go through hazing. It’s the only way. Just grow the fuck up and stop whining about it.”

I sat back in my chair and stared at him. My heart thumped in my ears, but I didn’t let it show. This was the most I’d ever pushed him, but I needed answers.

“What exactly do you do in this club?”

“You know about everything you need to know. Most of the guys who are officers and some of the other members are local business owners. We’re a collective of concerned citizens who want to protect our town.”

“I know there’s more, Martel.”

He looked at me for a long moment and sighed. His chest seemed to deflate, and then he finally spoke. “Look, there are certain things going on in this town that are not exactly on the straight side of the law. But believe me, it isn’t hurting anyone, and it’s part of the lifeblood of the community.”

“What are you talking about?”

“In the original charter, back in the seventies, the club was set up to police and protect the local pot growers. We still keep them from getting robbed, and we settle disputes. Sometimes we run their weed. It’s not something the law can deal with, but it’s a major part of the local economy. The growers here are good people. Multi-generational families. They aren’t drug cartels.”

“Where is the heroin coming from?”

“Believe me, I’ve done everything I can about the smack and meth. It’s become a major problem. The suppliers are a 1% criminal gang out of Sacramento. They’ve been pushing into our territory for the last several years. Getting them out is going to require either expert negotiation or full-on aggression. Blood and murder have never been our racket. I’ve been trying to negotiate with their leader. Trouble is I don’t have anything he wants. Until now.”

“What do you mean?”

He looked at me skeptically and twisted his mouth. “TJ (Ripper) Callahan runs a cage-fighting operation out of Sacramento. It brings him some pretty big bucks from gambling. He’s made it clear that if I bring a contender who is a member of our club to his cage fight, and we win, he’ll stay out of this part of Mendocino and Humboldt Counties.” His crystal blue eyes narrowed on me.

“And you want me to fight for the club.”

“It’s for the whole town, for the whole North Coast. For people like your girl’s sister.” How did he know it was Claire’s sister? Martel seemed to have his ear to the ground on just about everything in town.

“When?”

“There’s a match this weekend. If you come with us this Saturday, we can get you entered. If you win, they leave us alone. If we lose, they get free reign in our area.”

“That’s a terrible idea. I’m not in nearly good enough shape for a cage fight right now. I haven’t even sparred with anyone in months.”

“Those are our options.”

I stood up from the chair thinking those were the worst options ever. I didn’t want that kind of weight on my shoulders. “I’ll have to think about it,” I muttered.

“Don’t think too long, son. We’ve only got a few days.”

Chapter Ten: Claire

His motorcycle pulled up the driveway and Bradly jumped around in circles to be let out to greet him. Rose was napping, and Zoe had gone out with some friends. Regan, thank God, was sleeping off her drug haze in her bedroom.

I flung open the door and stood on the porch with my arms crossed. He pulled off his helmet and looked at me with solemn eyes. He slowly moved up the path until he stood below me on the stone walkway.

“What?” I said angrily.

“I came to check on you.” He sounded hurt. I didn’t care. I was hurt by his lies.

“I don’t need you to check on me.”

“Regan was in bad shape when she left.”

“That’s my business. You don’t even care about her.”

“Claire.”

“What!”

“Please, Claire. I’m sorry.”

“You lied to me! How could you be associated with drug dealers? Drugs are killing this town. They killed Jessy. They’re killing Regan. And you’re one of the people who put the drugs in their hands!” I was so furious tears wouldn’t even collect in my eyes.

“Claire, let’s go inside and talk.”

“No. Why didn’t you tell me you were in the Black Blades?”

“It’s a long story. Just let me explain.”

“You were using me for some sick twisted reason. Don’t you get enough pussy during one of your biker orgies? Did you want a little MILF for some flavor, to add to your list of conquests?” I shivered violently. My body felt numb, even though my heart flailed like a frantic, caged bird.

“Claire. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous! You’re ridiculous!”

“You’re just stressed out. I should have told you. I came up here to visit my dad’s old friend. They wanted me to get involved in the club, so I did. Martel is helping to finance my shop. It’s no big deal.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Tears finally flooded from my eyes and dripped relentlessly down my cheeks.

“It’s a long story. I want to tell you now. Just let me come inside.”

“I don’t want to talk to you, Damien. You betrayed me. I don’t ever want to talk to you again.”

“Come on, Claire. Just let me explain.”

“I knew this would happen. I knew you would break my heart.”

“Please. Don’t say that.”

“Just go.”

“Claire!”

“Go!”

He turned away, looking broken. Seeing his strong back slumped in shame made my heart hurt for him. That just made me angrier. I went inside and slammed the door. I heard the motor rumbling away down the road, and I fell on the couch to sob my eyes out.

All this time and no mention that he was part of a notorious motorcycle club. People in town gossiped that they were drug dealers. Nice girls stayed far away from The Clutch and far away from bikers like that. If being part of the club was no big deal, there shouldn’t have been any reason for him to avoid telling me about it. Plain and simple.

I sat up on the couch and buried my head in my hands. I wouldn’t let this tear me apart. I’d been through much worse in my life, and I would get through this too. So I’d fallen for a liar. I’d survive. I had to get on with my life.

I went to the kitchen, took a long drink of cold water, and splashed some on my face. When I felt a little more solid, I walked straight across the living room and got onto the computer, ready to get to work.

Zoe had set up a storefront for me on Etsy several weeks ago. We had taken photographs of the dresses I made for Emily, then used them to post the listings last week. Once something sold, I could sew a dress to order and send it to the buyer.

When I clicked on the website, I was completely stunned. I looked at my dashboard where the sales were recorded. I’d already sold eight dresses at a hundred dollars each. I covered my mouth to muffle the massive squeal that came through my lips. The roller coaster of emotion, from despair to elation, made me lightheaded.

Thoughts of Damien took a back seat as I tried to figure out how I’d get all those dresses made in time. It was the most money I’d seen in forever.

A windfall like that could take care of almost all our problems in the short run. I could pay off the nagging electric bill that still haunted me from the winter. I could finally replace the leaking roof.

I spent the next few hours sending email and cutting out dress patterns, and tried to keep Damien out of my mind. Every so often, he snuck in, and I had to stifle my crying.