Unplugged: A Bad Boy Rockstar Romance (18 page)

“Hi Will,”
said Maggie, giving him a small and
shaking smile. She licked her lips, ready to launch into the speech she had
been planning and rehearsing, over and over, just for the moment she would in
evitably run into one of the boys from the MC. But before
she could, Will wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug. At
first Maggie only tensed up in surprise, but then she melted into it and hugged
him back even tighter.

When they pull
ed
away from it, Maggie realized the entire group of Black Dogs had stopped
whatever they were doing to watch the reunion. She didn’t recognize any of
them, and doubted they knew who she was. They were simply shocked by Will
’
s public display of affection.
Will didn’t seem to notice or care.

“
What are you doing here?
” Will
asked, though it was more gentle than
accusatory.

Maggie blinked a few times and tried to
gather her thoughts. The entire rehearsed speech had flown from her mind.
“I, uh…
I decided it wa
s
time to come home.
”
 She finished with another tight smile,
“
Things didn’t work out in Eagleton like
I had planned.
”

“
Henry didn’t say a word about you coming
back,
”
said Will.
“
I thought you two were still on the
outs.
”
The expression on her face must have
answered his curiosity, because Will made a little
“oh”
noise and nodded almost imperceptibly.

Maggie lowered her voice, insecure of
being overheard by these MC boys she didn’t know.
“
I haven’t talked to Henry yet. He
doesn’t know I
’
m back.
”

Will was thoughtful and quiet for a
moment. The Black Dogs began to grow bored watching the conversation and
started going back to their own.
“
You know, there
’
s still an unofficial APB from the club
out on you. Dogs aren’t supposed
to engage with you,
just report back to him any word of your location.
”

Maggie swallowed against a tight throat
and nodded.
“
Yeah, that sounds like the old man.
Controlling enough to supervise, but too proud to do it himself.
”

Will
’
s half-smile returned fo
r just a moment. Then he grew serious and locked eyes with
her.
“
I
don’t
want to make anything harder for you, Maggie. But you know
I have to report this to him. I don’t know what you have planned for this
homecoming
… I
’
m going to guess it didn’t involve H
enry and Beck kicking down your apartment door before you
even got settled into town.
”

“
No, no it did not,
”
said Maggie with a sigh.

“You’ve
always been smart. I
’
m sure you have a plan. If you want to
get it going, you need to do it now. Henry should be a
t
the clubhouse. You should go talk to him now, while you still have the element
of surprise.
”
Will
looked around at the members in the diner.
“
I outrank all these goons in here, so I
can keep them quiet. But I can only give you until sundown to make your
move. Then I have to tell Henry myself.
”
He blinked a few times and put a gentle
hand on her shoulder.
“I
’
m sorry.”

“
I understand,
”
said Maggie immediately, stiffening her
back and taking a deep breath.
“
I came here half-hoping he was here to get it over
with, anyway.
”

Will smiled again.
“
Henry would never blow his top in Dot
’
s. Smart girl.”

“
Not smart enough, apparently,
”
said Maggie more to herself than to
Will.

He gave her shoulder a squeeze.
“You’ll
be fine. You
’
re his daughter. No matter what he says
to you, he’s glad to see you.
”

Maggie returned the smile.
“
Thanks Will. I
’
m glad I found you first.
”

“I
’
m glad to have you back,
”
he said.

Maggie gave him one last small hug and
turned to head out of the dining room. Before she could, Will grabbed her arm
and turned her back.

“
One last thing,
”
he said, and now his eyebrow was raised,
his brown eyes filled with genuine worry.
“
Jase will probably be there.
”

Hearing his name again made a shiver run
through Maggie
’
s bones. Her heart skipped. She felt the
blood
drain from her face. She couldn’t find the
words to reply to Will, so she simply nodded and squeezed his hand one last
time before she walked off to face her fate.

~
TWO ~

The clubhouse of the Black Dogs MC
relocated twice since Maggie
’
s grandfather began the club after he returned from the
European theater of World War 2. The first clubhouse had been nothing more than
a dingy shed in a field outside of the community that would eventually grow to
become LeBeau. Once more vets started hea
ding home
and the town become more settled, the club began to grow in membership. It was
the late 60s when they were finally able to purchase an old storefront off Main
Street to hold their meetings and drink in peace.

Not long after Maggie was born, her
grandfather and a few other members were killed in a
shootout with corrupt members of the state police. The shootout went down at
the storefront clubhouse. Understandably, the members didn’t exactly want to
hang around a place with such terrible memories,
and
the townspeople were threatening to run the MC out of town, blaming them for
the violence. Maggie
’
s father, abruptly shoved into the role of MC president,
had put his nose to the grindstone, gathered investments and support, and built
the place that wo
uld become the permanent den of the
Black Dogs. It was an unassuming, two-story building set back from the road,
well away from the high-traffic civilian areas of LeBeau.

Maggie had been born not long after it
was built, and it became as much a second hom
e to her
as it was to any man who wore the cut.

Despite the place being almost thirty
years old, Henry made sure it always got the maintenance and upkeep it needed
to look its best. As Maggie pulled through the open chain link gate and into
the long parki
ng lot, memories began flooding through
her mind, stronger than any d
éj
à
vu she had ever experienced. On this midday during the
week, most of the members were likely out at their day jobs or other such
errands. The parking lot was nearly empty, but a handf
ul
of bikes cooled in front like a shiny vanguard. She spotted the bikes of her
father and his vice president, Beck Dillon, but the rest of the bikes were
unfamiliar to her.

After she parked, Maggie sat in the
driver
’
s seat and tried to gather herself and
her courage. She went to reach for the door and saw her
hand shaking, so she killed the engine, cracked a window, and lit up the last
of the joints she had brought in her purse. The weed took the edges off her
anxiety, but even the highest-grade chronic w
asn’t
going to fix this. She smoked half of it before she stamped it out in the
ashtray and immediately pushed out of the SUV, not giving herself a chance to
hesitate any longer.

Maggie had learned from years of
watching the most alpha of alpha dogs how to
hold
herself to gain respect. She squared her shoulders and held her head high, eyes
straight ahead, as she walked calmly through the parking lot and to the front
door of the clubhouse. She didn’t let herself get spooked at the door. She
didn’t knock. She
wrapped her hand around the knob
and pushed her way in as if she had always belonged.

She did her best not to become flooded
with nostalgia at the sight of the long wooden hallway, the framed photos on
the walls, the smell of cigar smoke and whiskey. She
didn’t
even take off her sunglasses as she marched down the hallway towards the den,
from which floated the faint sound of talking and the soft click of billiard
balls. She stood in the wide doorway and surveyed the room for a few moments
before anyone not
iced her. Someone she didn’t
recognize was shooting a lazy game of pool with himself. Beck sat at the bar
with a beer in his hand, talking with another member. It took her a few moments
to recognize him as Tommy Castillo. Tommy had been just a kid barely o
ld enough to drive the last time she saw him. He was still
a dark and gawky looking man, but he had grown at least a foot and was not the
skinny whelp she remembered. Faint sounds of sex floated from one of the
bedrooms down the hallway.

“I
’
m looking for
Henry
Oliver,
”
said Maggie. She was endlessly pleased
to hear her voice come out strong, not shaking as she had expected.

All the men stopped what they were doing
and looked over to the doorway. The one at the pool table frowned as if he
smelled something
rotten, burning cigarette dangling
from his thin lips. Tommy was staring at her, trying to place her face. But
Beck
’
s face immediately lit up and he jumped
up from the barstool.

“
Christ almighty. Maggie? Is that you?
”
he said, moving across the den with
his arms open wide. He looked like a big, gray-haired Santa
Claus
—or
Santa
’
s brother, maybe, who took a darker path
than the toymaker. He was always a large man, but post-middle age had made him
even bigger. Her father used to joke about how unbelievable i
t was that the Viet Cong hadn’t spotted such a
“
redwood of a dude
”
in the midst of their jungles.
“I can’t
believe it!
”
Beck wrapped her in a rocking hug that
would have suffocated anyone smaller. Maggie couldn’t help but laugh and accept
his affection.

“H
i, Beck,”
she said, though it came out muffled,
stuffed as she was against the fabric of his shirt and cut.
“It
’
s good to see you.
” 

“
Let me get a look at you!
”
He pulled back from the hug, his face
shining and bright, and looked her over. Behind him, the
one at the pool table was exchanging not-so-secretive questioning looks
with Tommy behind the counter. 
“
What a beautiful woman you’ve grown up to be. You look just
like your ma.
”

Maggie knew very little about Sara, the
woman who had somehow charmed the i
nfamous Henry
Oliver and gave birth to her. She died when Maggie was a baby. She had no
memory of her. But she knew the MC had loved Sara, and so accepted the
compliment with a smile.
“
Thanks, Beck. Listen, is Henry here?
”

“
Maggie?
”

The sound of Henry Oli
ver
’
s voice was still enough to conquer a room. Everyone turned
to look at him, halfway down the stairs that led to the MC
’
s more private and official meeting
rooms. Beck moved away from her slowly as Maggie locked eyes with her father.
His hair had begun
to gray at the temples, and his
belly was a bit bigger than it had been when she left, but aside from those
minuscule details, he was still the dark, powerful man she remembered. And
unlike Beck or even Will, his face gave no indication that he was happy t
o see her.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as she
and her father stared each other down. She could feel the tension in the room
rising. Maggie had the passing thought that it was perfectly appropriate to
begin this reunion in this position
—
with her father
standing over
her, staring down in judgment. It was exactly the way their entire relationship
had always been.

“Henry,”
said Maggie. Her voice cracked, despite
her best attempts otherwise. She removed her sunglasses and cleared her throat.
“I hope I
’
m not
interrupting
anything.
”

Henry stared down at her a few moments
more, expressionless, quiet. Then he seemed to blink out of his own mental
trance.
“
Not at the moment.
”

Maggie licked her lips.
“
Can we talk in private?
”

Again, Henry hesitated, making her wai
t and squirm. Then he finally nodded once and headed back
up the stairs without another word. Maggie looked over at Beck and saw an
expression of sympathy, but he also said nothing to her. She headed towards the
stairs.

As she passed Tommy at the bar, he
couldn’t help but let out a whisper to her.
“
Maggie
—
hey!
”
He even waved a little, as if she hadn’t
noticed him there before. Usually Tommy
’
s obliviousness was a bothersome joke,
but at that moment she couldn’t help but cr
ack a tiny
laugh at him. How a man could be in her father
’
s MC and still be so pleasantly naive
was a mystery, but he relieved her tension and she was grateful. She raised a
hand at him as she passed by, and then headed up the stairs.

Henry waited for her
in his seat at the head of the conference room table. It
was his throne, his seat of power, from which he made all the pertinent
decisions of the MC. This choice of meeting spot was not lost on his daughter.
Maggie put her purse in an empty chair and took
up
the spot usually reserved for Beck, at Henry
’
s right hand.

A few moments of silence passed. Maggie
waited to see if he wanted to begin. She knew immediately launching into her
story would make her look and feel powerless. She realized then how much of t
heir interaction was exactly that
—
one of them trying to hold power over
the other; strategy; tactics in place of connection.

Finally, Henry cleared his throat and
leaned back just a bit in his chair.
“What brings you here, Maggie?”

She hadn’t expected any
thing less from him than straight to business, but the
question stung regardless. Maggie took a breath and said,
“
I need your help.
”

Henry let out a little scoff. Her father
was a predator and Maggie had learned from him, and from the club, how to read
oth
er people. He didn’t have to say that he was
disappointed. She could see it all over his face, all over every little
mannerism in that moment.
“Isn’t
that typical? It
’
s been what
—
four years? Five?
”

“
Five and a half.
”
She didn’t bother to accuse him of know
ing exactly how long it had been since she ran away from
LeBeau.
“
Five and a half years next month.
”

He scoffed again, leaning forward on the
giant conference table.
“
What kind of help is it you
’
re looking for? Must be a big favor if
it got you back to
this town.
”

Maggie nodded. It was too difficult to
look at him in that moment, and so she stared at his big hands, at the wedding
ring he still wore after all these years.
“I
’
m in danger. I need to get protection from you
…
from the MC.
”

She thought she sa
w his shoulders soften a bit. Henry took a pause and then
asked,
“
From who?
”
There was an edge to his voice she
recognized all too well. She took it as a good sign that he was listening and
taking her seriously.