One Wild Ride (Lords of Mayhem 2)

Moose didn’t miss the smugness in Shooter’s tone. “You suddenly decide to give Dr. Phil a run for his money?”

“Just making conversation.” Shooter shrugged.

“Right. “ Moose eyed him, still not certain of his intentions.

“I felt the same way about Jul, you know. I wondered what the hell I was getting myself into and called myself a crazy fool. I almost talked myself out of it a few times. I mean we had a shit-ton of issues slamming into us from every side. There were plenty of times I wanted to walk away.”

“All right, I’ll bite. Why didn’t you?” Moose asked, genuinely curious.

“Because…her lure proved to be stronger than any of that. Men like us don’t do regrets or what ifs. We go hard and ride shit out until the end. I’m not trying to cramp your style or get all up in your shit. I just don’t want to see you pass up something that could potentially be the best shit you ever stumbled onto.” Shooter shoved his hands in his pockets. “All right, I’m done.”

Moose walked over to the sink and pumped a liberal amount of gritty orange soap onto his hands. The smell of citrus wafted to his nose as he scrubbed away the oil. “I appreciate it. But you and I are different when it comes to that. I’m not afraid of bitches. I never had my heart broken or had a vagina-owner betray me. I like my freedom. I spent too long trapped in a cage I was born into, and I’m not ready to give that up, might never be.”

Images of limbs worn down over time, pale and too thin, flooded his mind. Nothing hurt worse than watching the person you love wither away one day at a time. It was the first time they’d touched on what sent him out this way. “If you’re worried I’m going to do her dirty or pull a fast one on her, don’t be. I’m going to lay it out in black and white tonight,” Moose said. He picked up the small blue-bristled brush to clean under his nails. If she did stay, he had some lost time to make up for. He’d grown used to having her with him at night. A week away from her felt like an eternity.

The conversation moved to the club, and then Shooter headed in to talk to Tiny.

Moose finished cleaning up his work area and went to change.

* * * * *

The cookie-cutter neighborhood made him feel out of place. Brick houses with manicured lawns, gardens and kids’ toys lined both sides of the street. Moose imagined the polished professionals peeking out their blinds as he drove to Joey’s house and parked in the driveway. He’d only been to her home a few times and every time, he felt like a circus attraction.

He climbed off the bike and walked up to the door with his hands shoved in his pockets. Things were either going to move to another level or crash and burn. Rolling his neck and shoulders, he knocked on the door and rocked back on his heels.

Joey opened the door in a pair of worn denim jeans and an oversized Mayhem shirt.

“Nice shirt,” he said, unable to keep the grin from his lips.

“Come in, smart ass,” Joey said. She stepped back and he walked in, taking in the décor as she locked the door behind him. Beige walls were brought to life with colorful posters and photos.

“We can go to the living room. Do you want anything to drink?” she asked.

“Nah, I’m straight.”

She nodded and began the short walk into the living room.

He sank down onto the light-green couch and rested his hands on his knees, mentally bracing himself for the shakedown he knew had to be coming.

Joey turned to face him. “I don’t think there’s even a protocol for this conversation, so I’m just going to go at it. I know who you are and the world you live in. However, seeing it up close and personal could only be described as a shock to my system.” She shook her head. “It scared me, thinking about the things you might be capable of,” she said.

“I can’t make you un-see it, Jo-Jo.”

“I know, and I’m not asking you to,” she said. She peered at him from beneath her thick lashes. “How do I know you won’t do that to me?”

“Because you’re not some whore trying to fuck up my life,” he said. Does she really need me to explain it to her?

“What if you’re drinking and we’re arguing? How do I know it won’t escalate?” she asked.

“Because I’m giving you my word. Have I lied to you yet?” he said. He raised an eyebrow.

“No, but I’d be a dizzy bitch if I didn’t bring it up and try to protect myself,” she said.

“And I respect that. But, Joey, you have to know you mean something to me.”

“Do I?” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “You’re a man of few words, and most of the time we’re together, talking is the last thing on our minds.”

“You complaining about that?” he said.