Outlaw's Vow: Grizzlies MC Romance(86)

My girl hadn't ever been cut out for the city life, so no surprise I'd shuffled her off to somewhere more peaceful, the last place she'd ever live.



“Hey, babe.”

So fucking pathetic, but it was all I could muster. The angel was huge, and I'd gotten her face custom made to look just like my girl. I'd used this spot for confessions the few times I'd come here over the years, telling this crude stand-in for the real deal everything I ever wanted to say to flesh and blood.

I put my hand on her, trying not to wince when I felt how frigid she was, how she wouldn't even look at me.

So cold. So quiet. So absolutely pissed – and she'd got every reason in the world to be.

This wasn't an angel of mercy. Didn't deserve one neither.

I took my hand away, folded my arms over my cut, trying to muster the same manic energy I used to wheel and deal as Prez every day.

Didn't fucking work here. It was flat, worthless, dead.

“My whole crew's just about married now. Only got Stryker and a couple kids left to get their boozing and whoring out before they settle down just the same. It's funny, watching these boys turn into proper men after being bastards for thirty years. Old Southpaw's never gonna stop fucking his whores, but you know how that shit goes. He's a lot like your old man.”

I looked up with a smile, straight into the big stone angel's dark, vacant eyes. Nothing.

Fuck me, it hurt.

It split me in two from the skull on down. I'd gazed into the eyes of hell a thousand times since I'd put on this patch, stared down cartel captains and dirty rogues and kids who'd done terrible things because they were just 'following orders.'

None of that shit had anything on staring into my old lady's face cut in stone. I had to look away, turn my back, and settle onto the dirty ground, clutching at the grass.

I leaned into her robe, feeling how stiff, immovable, and timeless she'd become. I could've moved the whole damned world without her saying boo.

“Had our anniversary last week, Lizzie,” I said softly, staring at the big brass ring on my hand. “I'd have gotten up here sooner if I wasn't so distracted. Yeah, club biz, you know it, woman. Sorry I fucked up, babe. Again.”

How many times had I apologized? How many times had I wanted it to do some good, to see her magically look at me, throw her arms around me, tell me the past was the past?

How often had I walked away with jack shit?

“You know I'll always love you, Lizzie. It's not like the shit in my chest gives me any choice, even if it's getting older and harder every passing year. I'd ask you to forgive me for the thousandth time, but I know you won't.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a smoke, touching the tip to my lighter 'til it caught. “I don't deserve it. Never will after what I did to you.”

I leaned back against her, waiting for the morning sunlight to creep across the cool ground and warm everything up. Took about another twenty minutes, crouching there in silence, burning up my cig.

Then I lit another. And another. Must've smoked three more before the sun came out through the clouds, giving us some precious light.

Gold did funny shit to an old man's eyes. Made me think. Just enough to remember the good times wedged between the sins, before the darkness swept over us when I left, and wrecked me forever.

Wrecked us. I closed my eyes, tilting my face at my knees.

“You remember those days, don't you babe? Somewhere, somehow, I know you do. Feels like it was only yesterday.” I took a long pull off my smoke, filled my lungs, and held it 'til I almost choked. “Just tell me one thing – where the fuck does the time go?”





II: Firecracker (Blackjack)


Twenty-four years ago

Once, I wasn't gray. I had muscle, I had venom running hot in my veins, and I thought I was God's own gift to the wide open road.

Anything seemed possible before the constant nipping fire above my knee, or half a dozen other aches that came and went.

I was spry. Young. Arrogant.

An unapologetic motherfucker with long dark hair, short on fucks to give. Everybody walking on the planet answered to me, ever since I'd joined the baddest MC West of the Mississippi, and learned to love the dark snarling bear inked on my skin.

So, when I saw her working the new club bar outside town the very first time, I didn't know she was my own President's daughter. And I didn't fucking care.

She'd be mine that night for no other reason than the fact that I always got what I want, who I wanted, whenever I needed it.

Oki's words echoed in my head like the big old bastard was still speaking to me, that night he saw the way I was eyeballing her, trying to stop my dick from ripping straight out my jeans. Sometimes I wonder if I hadn't been so damned arrogant, if I'd only backed away, maybe we'd both be better off.

“I know you think you're hot shit, Blackjack, but we've got ourselves an order around here. You're gonna figure it out quick, or I'll knock your head off so fucking fast it'll spin like a fucking satellite.” Oki bared his teeth, lifting me halfway off my feet by my cut. “Stay the fuck away from my Lizzie. If I find out you've even so much as cat called her, I'm putting you under, and I don't give a single fuck who your old man was.”