Honey Whiskey (A Bastards MC Novel) (3 page)

The funny thing about closure is that once you
feel like you have it, once you are finally healing, the last thing
you want to do is rip the scab off the wound. That’s what it felt
like we were doing. Our problems didn’t go away just because we
wanted them to, and underneath it all, we were the same people we’d
been just a few months ago. He was determined to keep secrets from
me, to shut me out of God knows what, and that was something I
wouldn’t tolerate if we had any hope of a future.

And, as much as I tried not to be,
I was bitter. I was still pissed that without any explanation he
was ready to let me go and expected me to run back to the man who
had hurt me, the very man Matty had sworn he’d kill if said man
ever touched me again. Every time we tried to talk about that day,
we picked at the scab a little more. It was painful and would only
leave us scarred if we couldn’t figure it out.

I knew that Matty didn’t really
want me with Will, and that neither of us meant a quarter of what
we’d said that day. But, he refused to talk about it, changing the
subject whenever I brought it up. I didn’t understand how he could
be amazing and possessive one day and then weak and pathetic the
next. I was positive there was some underlying reason.

No matter what I said, he refused
to let me in. Without realizing it, I’d fallen back into my nasty
passive aggressive pattern. I knew I needed to break the mold and
just tell him how I felt, but instead, I found myself getting angry
for no real reason, and feeling annoyed with him for little things
that normally wouldn’t bother me.

Now it was excruciatingly clear we
weren’t sure how to move on. When we talked, we avoided any serious
topics. It was like we’d come to an unspoken mutual understanding
that we didn’t get much time and we’d be damned if it was going to
be ruined by an argument. Leaving things unsaid, though, seemed to
breed mistrust. He’d been distant, almost cold, the past week, and
it hurt me that he wouldn’t tell me why. Plus, I’d worked myself
into a tizzy trying to figure out how to tell him about everything
that was going on in my life and was overly snappy.

The last time we’d talked, really
talked, I took offense to his cold shoulder routine and suggested
that we should quit while we were ahead. I told him I thought we
would always work better as just friends and that the friendship
was what we both missed the most after all. He’d argued, telling me
that I was worth the struggle, that we’d get to the point where we
could forgive each other and eventually everything would fall into
place. I yelled back, telling him I hadn’t done anything wrong and
didn’t need his forgiveness. I couldn’t remember much more of what
was said, but I knew it had gone south quickly. I would probably
never forget the relief in his voice when I told him we were done
and he’d agreed.

“
Maybe this time it really is
over.”

“Jesus, you two
are way more dramatic than any teenager I know—and believe me,
that’s saying something!” I opened my eyes to find her glaring at
me. “Maybe you are. I seriously doubt it, but maybe you are. You
have some major crap to work through, but so does every other
couple I know. Divorced people come with crazy amounts of baggage.”
She twirled her hand over her head.

“Most men can’t handle all this,
let alone the two monsters that come with me. But, I’d go through
all the crazy drama all over again just to find Tom.” She smiled.
“If you’re over, you are. Stressing over it and getting depressed
won’t make him come back. It will only make you feel like shit. So,
you’re gonna get up, get dressed, put on my stripper shoes, and go
dance your ass off.” I laughed as she shoved me off the bed.
“Tomorrow’s a big day!”

Teagan was right. I’d done everything I could
do and now the ball was in Matty’s court. I needed to let it go, at
least for tonight, and have a great night with my
friends.

Chapter 2

Rocker

The bar was full, the music loud, and the
dance floor crammed with people grinding and laughing, drunk off
their asses. Thankfully, we were the only ones filling the stools
at the bar. I sat, listening to Hawk and Fred shoot the shit,
grumbling responses when they were required. The two of them kept
trying to drag me into the conversation, but all I cared about was
finishing the beer in front of me and downing the next. It had been
a long ass day, full of nothing but shit I didn’t want to deal
with. If I hadn’t promised the guys we’d stop at Hooligan’s to see
Fred, we’d be halfway back to Boston by now.

Thinking of my buddies, I scanned
the room for Dean. He'd taken off with a tasty little piece a while
ago, and I hadn't seen him since. A loud group came up to the other
end of the bar, and I turned to them out of boredom. One of them, a
tall blonde in a barely-there outfit and a ‘come fuck me’ mouth,
offered me a knowing smile. I ignored her, not even close to being
interested, and moved my eyes over the rest of her group, settling
on the short one that had her back to me. There was something
familiar about her, and I searched my mind, struggling to place
her.

She wasn't my
type, so there was no reason I should stare, but an uneasy feeling
settled in my gut and I couldn't pull my eyes away. Her hair was
short, barely touching her shoulders, and I knew I’d remember the
color. It was all three—brown, red and yellow—in alternating
chunks—and, unless it was the lights from the strobes—there were
also streaks of blue and purple. She was dancing in place, shaking
her ass to the beat. Her tight shirt and jeans left very little to
my imagination and showed the world just how curvy she was.

Nothing about her interested me,
except that fucking nagging feeling that I knew her. A couple of
guys joined her group, one draping his arm around her shoulders in
a gesture that showed everyone he was staking his claim. I lifted
my bottle, turning back to Fred, when I heard the laugh. I froze,
hand in the air, bottle almost at my lips, staring. The douche with
her had leaned in, but she’d stepped away from him, tipping her
head back and giggling.

No fucking way in hell. I felt my
whole body tense and took a swig, squinting to see if it could
really be her. This chick was similar in height, but that was about
it. She was different—from the way she dressed, to the undeniable
curves, to the crazy hair. But, no one else in the world had that
laugh. I’d know it anywhere.

My fist squeezed the bottle as the
douche ignored her signal and slid his hand down the middle of her
back, grabbing her ass. She was free now. The divorce was final.
He’d screwed up and let her walk away, but that didn't mean she
should be here, letting some pansy ass wimp fondle her. She didn’t
move into the ass wipe, which was his intention, but instead
stepped forward, moving her arms wildly and forcing him to remove
his hand as she talked. The entire group started laughing, finding
whatever she said to be hilarious.

And I knew. It was her. I started to stand,
but Fred’s voice kept me back.

“Leave her be,
Brothah.” It was a low, threatening tone.

I turned to him, jaw clenched, eyebrows
raised, trying to determine if he knew how he sounded. He stood
directly across from me, on the other side of the bar, towel slung
over his shoulder, thick arms folded over an equally thick chest,
watching her. I lifted my chin in her direction. “She come here
often?” I saw the jackoff raise his hand in the air, trying to get
the attention of one of the bar keeper's. Fred shook his head and
snorted, as if my question was absurd, and walked to them before
one of his employees could.

Seconds later, all my doubts were gone when I
heard Jo screech Fred’s name and practically jump over the counter
to give him a hug. He laughed, wrapping himself around her, and I
felt the instant pang of annoyance. Obviously, the two of them had
gotten close.

I didn’t jump as the familiar hand
smoothed my back in comfort and the soft warm body curled against
mine. “You promised, no trouble,” Darcey purred in my
ear.

I looked down, smiling. “Me?” I shrugged.
“Hawk’s the one you gotta watch.” Darcey just laughed, giving me a
hug. Fred’s wife wore a tight tee shirt, the word ‘Hooligan’s’
spread across her perfect tits, and an apron around her tiny waist.
Setting the empty tray she carried on top of the bar, she turned to
me, giving me a pointed look. I shifted, uncomfortable under the
gaze. “What?” I snapped.

One eyebrow arched at my tone, but she shook
her head, looking down the bar towards Joey. “She’s a regular now.”
She sighed, turning back to me. “In here whenever she doesn’t have
her kids. She trusts him.” Watching Fred joke with her, I knew
Darcey meant her husband, not the prick that was still trying to
touch Jo. “She’s been through hell and just starting to come out.
She doesn't need more.”

My jaw clenched at the assumption
that I'd cause trouble. I didn't want to cause Joey any more
problems. I knew she'd been through the fucking ringer. Cris told
me she’d been worried, that I should check in, let Jo know I was
there if she needed me. I hadn't seen the point. She had friends
and I wasn't one of them. She wasn’t the only one that had been
left a fucking mess.

I’d had my hands pretty fucking
full trying to deal with the fallout she’d left behind. Now, I was
sitting here with Hawk on a Friday night, staring at the back of
the woman I hadn’t stopped hearing about. Fucking
perfect.

As Joey and her entire group headed out to the
dance floor, I realized that I needed to leave, to get out of here
before she saw me. I turned back to the bar, ready to tell Hawk we
had to go. Instead, he handed me a shot of whiskey. Sliding another
over as soon as the first was gone.

“
Don’t you evah get sicka cleanin’
up his messes?” I shook my head at my friend’s question. This
wasn’t the place or the time.

I stood, knowing I had to go, but
out of the corner of my eye I saw her dancing. I turned out of
habit, and the image of her, obviously pretty tipsy and surrounded
by sleaze balls, made me freeze. Fuck! I couldn’t leave without
saying something.

Darcey stepped in my way, giving me that mom
look she enjoyed pulling on me, but I moved around her, ignoring
the warning Fred hollered at my back. Nothing he could say would
stop me from yanking her ass off that dance floor and shaking some
sense into that pretty little head of hers. I was the last person
he should be protecting her from.

I could feel
rage roll off me, and most people, sensing danger, moved out of my
way, parting like the red sea. I was behind her in just a few
steps. The pussy that had started to move towards her slid away
fast when I narrowed my eyes at him. She still hadn’t seen me, but
the tall blonde stopped the hideous jerking she considered dancing,
mouth falling open at my presence. The target of my annoyance,
though, was oblivious, moving to the beat.

I didn’t think. My hands reached
out, flat against her soft stomach as they circled around her,
pulling her back into me. I could feel the change immediately. She
tensed, looking up at her friend. The blonde nodded, as if because
she approved of my face, I was worthy to dance with her friend. Jo
relaxed a little, her body moving backwards into mine. The action
infuriated me to the core. I could be anyone, any sick bastard, but
because her friend thought I was hot, she was gonna grind with me?
Fuck, no.

I’d forgotten how short she was.
The top of her head barely reached my chest. She’d gained weight in
the few months since I’d seen her, giving her body a softness I
hadn’t realized had been missing. I leaned over to put my head on
her shoulder and the scent of vanilla hit me. I tipped my head
toward her ear and felt her stiffen as if she sensed I was after
more than a quick dance. She attempted to pull away, but my hands
held her close.

As her breath
quickened in panic, I couldn't stop the smirk. She should be
scared. She was a grown ass woman that should know when she dressed
the way she was tonight, she’d attract attention. Maybe she thought
Freddy would save her—I had no doubt that the giant softie would
break his fists on anyone that tried to touch her without her
permission. But, he wouldn’t be able to save her this time. Not
from me.

Using every ounce of patience I had, I didn’t
drag her off the floor. I didn’t knock out the teeth of the douche
that was still eyeing her like she was an edible desert. Instead, I
yanked her hard against me and growled in her ear, "Hello, lil'
kangaroo."

Chapter 3

Jo

“Rocker?” I
turned around so quickly I made myself dizzy, almost falling.
Thankfully his arms were still behind me, holding me upright. I
braced my hands on his chest, surprised to feel the taut muscle
underneath, just to be sure I stayed on my feet in the stupid high
heels I was wearing. “What the hell are you doing here?” I yelled,
so he could hear me over the music.

Instead of answering, he let go of
me, stepped back, and tipped his head towards the side of the bar.
I nodded, knowing he wanted me to follow him, and was happy that he
did. Walking behind him brought back serious Deja vu. It hadn’t
been that long ago when Fred led me off this dance floor and walked
me over to the tables that Rocker was headed to now. Yet, it felt
like a lifetime ago.