Jack (The Kings of Mayhem MC Tennessee 1)

I think about Jack, and before I realize it, I’m smiling.

“That is so thoughtful of you. I’ll tell you what, the first one I see I will give him your number.”

“Liar.”

I laugh. “I’ll call you soon.”

“You better, babycakes.

After hanging up from Riley, I call my other best friend, Sebastian, and then my boss at the bar who reluctantly agrees to give me some time off. As I end the call, my phone immediately rings with a number I don’t recognize.

My spine begins to tingle.

I don’t like answering phone numbers I don’t know, but I feel compelled to in case it is an emergency.

“Miss Vale, it’s Officer Johnson. I attended the break-in at your residence last night.”

I know who he is. He’d made a lasting impression for all the wrong damn reasons.

“Yes, I remember. Have you found out who broke into my apartment?”

“Not yet, ma’am, but we’re working on it.”

Somehow, I don’t think that’s true. Last night, he gave me the impression it was all in my head.

“Okay, so what’s the reason for the phone call, Officer?”

There’s a pause. “Just a simple follow-up call, ma’am. I wanted to make certain you were doing okay after the incident the last night.”

I think about the incident the last night, and my skin pebbles with goosebumps.

“I’m fine, thank you.” It’s difficult to keep the hard edge out of my tone, and I’m sure Officer Johnson can hear it.

“You had anymore issues?” he asks. “Seen anyone hanging around your apartment today or anything like that?”

“Actually, I’m out of town for a few days.”

“Oh, I see. Well, that’s probably a good idea. Create some space between you and what’s been going on here.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Do you need to know that?” There’s that hard edge in my tone again.

“In cases like yours, we like to know where the complainant is, just to be on the safe side.”

“What do you mean?” Panic squeezes tight in my stomach. “I mean… can’t you just call me like you did today?”

“Sure, but it’s a safety thing.”

“Don’t worry, I’m safe. I’m staying with family. Look, I have to go. Thanks for calling.” I hang up and immediately regret my words. Officer Johnson will only have to look up my details and know where my family lives.

Dammit! I should’ve said I’m staying with friends.

Because something tells me I don’t want him knowing where I am.

JACK

The blonde with the big rack, face full of makeup, and the tiniest waist I’ve ever seen, is called Dolly, and she looks exactly like her namesake, the legendary Dolly Parton.

Dolly is married to my father and runs the Kings of Mayhem clubhouse bar like a tight ship.

As quick as a whip, you’ll only ever underestimate her once.

For almost two decades, she’s kept a clubhouse of sweaty, greasy, foul-mouthed bikers under her thumb and won’t take any shit from anybody. She’s the mom us motherless sons of bitches need, and we all love her for it.

When I enter the clubhouse, she’s chewing out TJ, one of the bar staff for being late.

“This isn’t up for no debate, Terri-Jayne. Midday means midday, girl, not ten minutes past one.”

“I know, Dolly, but like I said, my car wouldn’t start, and when I went inside to wake Jethro, he got mad, and we had a fight. And he was real mad, too. Said he needed his sleep, and I should stop being so needy. So, I had to catch the bus, and you know what the bus service is like in Flintlock… it’s as reliable as a holey prophylactic.”

“And suddenly, it’s my problem.” Dolly throws her hands up in the air. “If I’ve told you once, honey, I’ve told you a hundred goddamn times, you need dump that no good sonofabitch and get yourself a real man who doesn’t sleep all day and drink all night. Not to mention one that has a job. If I didn’t dislike the jerk so much, I’d hire him myself just to piss him off.” Seeing me walk in, Dolly puts her hands on her hips. “Now, you get to it and help me unload these cases of beer into the refrigerators. Church is about to start, and you know how those boys feel about warm beer.”

TJ looks contrite. Dressed in nothing but a pair of denim cutoffs, a Slipknot tank, and a pair of holey sneakers, she looks like a kid. She’s twenty-one, but she’s a young twenty-one.

Dolly walks over to me.

“Am I interrupting something,” I ask while leaning against the bar.

“Don’t mind me, honey. I’m just yelling at my staff…” she rolls her eyes, “… and Lord knows she’ll give me another reason to yell at her tomorrow.” Dolly watches TJ carrying a case of Miller Lite over to the refrigerators behind the bar. “If seeing her big doe eyes and sad face didn’t play on my heartstrings, I’d damn well fire her ass. But that’s the thing, I’m just a big ol’ softie for them strays.” She shakes her head before turning her attention back to me. “What do you need, honey?”