Bounty:Fury Riders MC(64)

"Wow, now that you put it that way … " I laugh, and she joins me. She's  right. It sounds too good to be true. But I remember Jax's smile, his  touch, the way it feels when he's inside me. He's the real deal.

"Do you think he feels the same way?"

This is the sticking point for me. I bite my lip, thinking it over. "I'm  not sure. Like I said, he tries to hold back. Hide his heart, know what  I mean? I know it's in there, I know he's a sweet person. He was so  thoughtful, in so many little ways. Something happened to him, something  bad. He mentioned his late wife. I wonder if there's not still a lot of  pain there, you know? Maybe he's wary of getting involved."

"Sounds like a touchy situation."

"A little bit." I sigh, shrugging. "All I can do is try. He sure seemed  happy enough to spend the morning in bed today. We even played board  games in the afternoon, just like you said. It felt nice. Natural. I  just hope he recognized it, too."

"I hope so. Ack, I'm so excited you found a good guy! And, um, I'm assuming he's seriously hot?"

I can't help laughing again, my face burning. "Super seriously. Gorgeous. Built like a brick house. The whole package."

We high-five over the table, giggling together.

"What's his name?"

"Jax. Different, right?"

I see a look pass over her face. A millisecond of uncertainty that she tries too late to hide.

"Jax? Do you mean … Jax Fairbanks?"

I feel the smile slipping from my face. She doesn't sound happy about this.

"Yeah. His last name is Fairbanks. How did you know? Do you know him?"

She sits back, hard, against her chair. As though the wind got knocked out of her. Her mouth is open again, but not in surprise.

In shock.

"Oh, Chris. You don't know who he is, do you?"

"Amy, don't. Don't screw with me right now." I laugh nervously. She doesn't.

"I'm not. Chris … he's one of those guys from the Angels of Chaos.  Remember when they rode through a while back, and everybody was talking  about them? He's one of the members."

It feels like a hand is squeezing my heart. My chest literally hurts  like I've been hit. "What does that mean, though? Okay, he's in a  motorcycle club. He's also a landscaper. He reads a lot. There are  plenty of things to him." I'm desperate, searching for excuses.         

     



 

"Chris, I'm sorry, but there's more to it than that." Amy leans over the  table, taking my hands in her own. "Jax did have a wife, and she did  die. Just like you mentioned. Only, she died suspiciously. And … " her  head slumps forward on her neck, her eyes focused on the table, " … and  most people thought he was the one who killed her."





Chapter 18

I'm driving home in a daze. It can't be true. How can it be true? Thank  God I don't live far from the shop, or else I'm not sure I could make  it. I'm just that devastated.

How can this be? I look back on everything I can remember from the last  few days. How did I miss this? He never once mentioned a club. Never. I  didn't even see a motorcycle anywhere.

It would have been in the garage, stupid. But … wouldn't there have been a clue? Something, somewhere?

Oh, God. Of course there was. The tattoo. The angel in the flames. Angels of Chaos.

I can't be blamed for missing that. I don't know anything about the  club, only hearing about them that one time at the shop when they rode  through. By the time we closed up for the day, I had dismissed them from  my mind completely. They meant nothing to me.

At least, they hadn't at the time.

I manage to keep from crying until I pull into the driveway of my little  house. Then I sit for a while, arms crossed on the wheel, my forehead  resting against them as I sob. How long has it taken me to find a man to  care about the way I care about Jax? And what sort of man is he? The  sort I'm clearly attracted to whether I want to be or not.

There has to be something wrong with me. What else can the explanation  be? First Tommy, now Jax. I should become a nun. Shut myself away in a  cave somewhere. Anything to avoid this shit.

Tommy. His hand flashing out toward my face. The way it felt like an  explosion went off when he made contact. Bam! Seeing stars, hitting the  floor before I knew I'd been knocked off my feet. Crawling away from him  on my butt, hands and feet scrambling until I hit a corner and had  nowhere else to go. The way he looked down at me. Like he hated me.

Was Jax that kind of man? He had to be violent if he was a member of the  club. The way Amy made it sound, they were little more than a gang.  Just because they rode bikes and wore leather jackets didn't mean they  were any different from run-of-the-mill thugs. That meant violence,  vandalism, and all sorts of criminal activity I didn't want to imagine.

And murder. He might have murdered his wife.

I have to find out more about this. Once the tears slow and I can  breathe calmly again, I get out of the car. I take my bags into the  house, leaving them just inside the front door. I don't care about them  right now. I need to find out more about Jax.

My laptop is open in an instant, my fingers flying over the keys. My  first keyword search is "ax Fairbanks murder." I need to pull the  bandage off all at once, get the worst out of the way first. My  curiosity is too great.

There she is. Jax's wife. Marissa Fairbanks. She was twenty-five when  she died. A tiny thing, bleach blonde. She had a big smile, a twinkle in  her eye. She was only twenty-five. I can't stop thinking about that.

She was found dead in the woods one day, a gunshot wound to her chest. I  unconsciously raise my hand to my own chest, feeling my heart beating  wildly under my skin.

There were never any charges filed. They never even found the gun used  in the crime. Still, the court of public opinion had its say. Many  people in Marissa's life, her friends and family, reported that she and  Jax had been on the outs before her death. In fact, she may or may not  have been on the verge of leaving him.

It didn't look good for Jax. I can see why people assumed he was the one  who did it. How many times have I seen stories like this on the news  and assumed the husband did it? If I'd seen this story on my six o'clock  newscast - the pretty young wife murdered on the eve of leaving her  criminal husband - wouldn't I have leapt to that conclusion before  moving on with my life?

I can't help leaping to that conclusion now. Even though I know him. I  don't really know him, though, do I? I spent nearly three days with him.  I've slept with him. He's shown me what he's wanted me to see. Any idea  of a connection between us, an understanding, is what I want to  believe. It's not the truth. I've let myself be fooled again.

While I'm online, I do a little looking into the Angels of Chaos. Boy,  they're an attractive bunch. Rough-looking guys, long-haired, inked,  normally with black eyes or busted lips in their mugshots-probably from  whatever dust-up they got into before getting arrested. I remind myself  never to judge a book by its cover, but the fact is these are  legitimately bad guys. They just happen to look bad, too.

It looks as though they're always causing trouble. News item upon news  item, going back years, report on the fights they've caused. Outside of  bars, inside of bars. At community events. In stores. One clerk refused  to serve them and got a broken jaw. One group beating they participated  in allegedly started when a stranger slapped his girlfriend in public  while three members of the club happened to be nearby. They put him in  the hospital, in critical condition.         

     



 

Was Jax one of those men? I have no idea. No witnesses agreed to  identify any of the club members. Nobody saw anything, evidently. They  only knew the men wore leather jackets with the club name and logo-an  angel in flames-on the back.

Various members of the club have been arrested for destruction of  property, too. One rival's car had been destroyed while the rival sat in  it at a red light. A few businesses in the area were busted up. There  was even a mention of arson at one point, which sent two club members to  prison for years.

This is just the tip of the iceberg. There's so much more. I don't even  want to know. My heart can't take any more of this. I'm hurting badly  enough.

Who is Jax? Is he the man I met, or a man like those I've been reading  about? Maybe a mix of the two? I can't afford to let myself get involved  with a man like this. Even if those days are behind him-and I pray they  are-organizations such as this don't just let their members walk away,  no questions asked. Even if he got away from them, that wouldn't change  anything he'd done. He would still be a violent criminal, end of story.

Leave it to me to fall for a guy like this.

This is what he was trying to tell me earlier. Oh, my God. It was right  there. He didn't want to come out and speak the plain truth, so he spoke  in half-veiled hints. Making bad choices because he was young. Wanting  more than anything to feel like he was part of something after his  lonely, neglected childhood. Regretting the choices he made when he was  running away.