Without thought, Jackrabbit had sprinted to his friend, dodging bullets and shrapnel to pull Finn to safety. He'd been given the rabbit's foot for good luck before deployment. In that moment, the damn thing actually pulled through for him. He'd worn it every day since for the rest of his deployment. It was how he got his nickname, Jackrabbit.
Well, that a few other things, he thought to himself, grinning. But then it slowly faded as his thought turned back towards his time in the military. It had changed them all, the war, but it had changed Finn the most. The Finn they used to know had died over there. The man who'd come back was a stranger, and a dangerous stranger at that.
Finn had gotten in with the Roadburners around the same time as Jackrabbit, but things had gone south real fast. By the time Finn left the crew, a war of had been brewing between him and the Roadburners' former president, Mad Dog.
The buzz of his cell phone jarred him from his troubled thoughts and Jackrabbit quickly picked up his phone to look at the text. It was a message from Harlow, his new second in command. Jackrabbit sighed after reading it. Just fucking great. This was just what he needed to kill his post-Rachael glow.
Cursing under his breath, he quickly rolled out of bed and threw on his jeans and a T-shirt that he was fairly certain was clean. The last thing he grabbed was his black leather jacket with the Roadburners patch emblazoned proudly on the back. He slipped it on, feeling a jolt of disbelief that he was the President.
It had only been a few months since Mad Dog had been killed and the club unanimously voted in Jackrabbit to take over for the old bastard. He was still adjusting to the change but he felt like he was truly where he belonged. The Roadburners were a family. Sure, a rough, bearded, heavily drinking family, but a family none the less.
After getting dressed, Jackrabbit walked to the still closed bathroom door. He raised his hands, about to knock and tell Rachael goodbye. He could hear the shower running, nearly drowning out Rachael's rendition of The Door's Light My Fire.
Finally, he just let his hand drop. He turned to leave without saying another word, pausing only to quickly scrawl a note telling her to lock up on her way out. A moment later he was walking through the door, hopping onto his jet black motorcycle and heading towards the clubhouse, his mind already whirling with how to deal with this new problem.
Chapter 2
"Ugh. Oh no, I cannot be getting sick." Rachael said as she walked out of the bathroom. One arm was wrapped around her still unsteady stomach and the other was busy holding the tooth brush to her mouth, trying like hell to get the taste of vomit out of her mouth. She sent up a quick prayer that she wasn't coming down with something as she continued to brush her teeth furiously.
She had a preliminary phone interview the next day with a company in Houston and she needed to be on her A-game. What she did not need was putting the conversation on pause so she could run to the bathroom. Rachael had a feeling that vomiting during an interview wouldn't go over well with the firm that she was applying for. It was an entry level job but it would be enough to get her the hell out of Mayville. It wasn't New York or LA, but at least it would be a new city. With lots of people who didn't know the exploits of Rachael Donohue, the sheriff's ‘troubled' daughter.
Rachael was so distracted by the nausea still roiling around her stomach that it took her a moment to realize she was alone in the small studio apartment. There wasn't much more to Jackrabbit's place than a bed, a single bathroom, and a tiny kitchenette.
She felt a pang somewhere in the vicinity of her chest but forced herself to ignore it. Who cares if he left without saying goodbye? They were their own people. They didn't owe each other explanations, and that was the way that she liked it.
You know the rules, girl, Rachael reminded herself firmly, don't get attached. It always comes back to bite you in the ass when you do. It was a sad truth of her life, but she'd come to terms with it long ago. She was pretty sure she was just destined to always be the ‘fling'. And I'm perfectly happy with that. Better than getting my heart broken over and over.
Despite her reprimand to not get in too deep, Rachael couldn't help but look around Jackrabbit's room in curiosity. She'd been to his apartment many times, but usually the only place she ever saw up close and personal was the bed.
She rifled through the drawers, but after finding nothing more than a few pairs of jeans and some t-shirts, she moved on. There wasn't much more to see except for the narrow bookcase that was shoved against one wall. Rachael's curiosity got the better of her and she bent down to examine it.
The bookcase was as sparse as everything else in the small apartment but something towards the bottom caught her eye. It was a picture frame, and one that hadn't been looked at judging by the thick layer of dust on it. Rachael picked up the frame, and wiped off the glass to see what it was. When she finally did, it brought a small smile to her lips.
It was a picture of Jackrabbit. He looked so young in the photo but she would have recognized that cocky grin and those sparkling blue eyes anywhere. He was dressed in his fatigues, grinning, and Hatchet stood on one side of him with a big grin of his own.
There was another man in the photo on Jackrabbit's other side. There was no smile on his serious looking face. He also towered over the other two which was saying something since both Jackrabbit and Hatchet were over six feet tall.
And broad as a four lane highway. That man was built like a brick house with stormy gray eyes that seemed to burn even in the photograph. Those were eyes that commanded attention and Rachael shook her head, wondering who the mystery man was. It was obvious the three of them were all close, but she couldn't remember Jackrabbit mention serving in the military with anyone besides Hatchet.
She turned the picture frame over, hoping there would be some hint written on the back but the other side of the photograph was blank.
"Hmm." Rachael hummed under her breath, flipped the frame back over, and dusted off the last few specks before looking at it one last time. There's really no reason she should know who the other man was. Jackrabbit didn't talk much about his past and she didn't ask much either. All part of her motto of ‘Keep things light and easy.' That was all.
Things started to get sticky when you learned too much about each other, when you started to know them as more than just a bed partner. Well, not her. She wasn't about to fall into that trap again.
Rachael looked around the small apartment one more time before glancing out of the four pane window that sat above the bed. She knew that just beyond the tree line was the Roadburners clubhouse. She'd asked Jackrabbit more than one to take her there but he kept putting it off. Each time he'd actually have the balls to say that it was no place for a good girl like her.
Good girl like me. She snorted out loud in the empty room. He knew nothing about her and her reputation if he thought she was a ‘good girl.' All he had to do was ask any of the fine upstanding members of Mayville and they would be more than happy to tell all about her exploits.
Rachael paused for a moment. Maybe he hadn't known her that long, but she couldn't help but feel that he was the one person who actually understood her in a long, long time. Sure, her best friend Elsie knew her inside and out since the fifth grade. But even then, Elsie had always been the sweet one, the nice one. Ugh! It sounded terribly boring to her. Nice. No thank you!
She thought of Jackrabbit again. How quickly they'd gone from zero to sixty, at least in the bedroom department. But it was even more than that. They just … clicked. Whenever they were together it felt right to her somehow. More right than her world had felt in a long time.
The thought scared her a little bit and she forced herself to back up, slamming on the brakes out of instinct. It's just sex, Rachael reminds herself. We're just sleeping together. A little fun. That's all.
But it sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than anyone else that it really was all about fun.
I'm my own woman, she thought, nodding firmly to herself, I can do whatever I want. Rachael decided then and there to get dolled up after her shift at the coffee shop was over, and go to the clubhouse. Suddenly excited and full of anticipation for the night ahead, Rachael quickly gathered her things and left.
***
"Are you sure?" Jackrabbit asked, directing the question at Harlow who nodded his head furiously. The new vice president of the Roadburners was a small man with a nervous, twitchy appearance that had gotten him into trouble with some of the other members thinking he was a snitch but Jackrabbit had never met a man better at digging up information than Tommy Harlow.
And he was loyal. That counted for a hell of a lot these days when Jackrabbit felt like he spent half his time looking over his shoulders.
"I'm sure, boss." Harlow said, his nasal voice high but strong as he spoke. "Finn is definitely on his way back to the area. He's been making stops along the way, sometimes for days, sometimes for weeks. But he's coming here. No doubt about it, boss."