His Selfish Love

  She’s the queen of booty calls.

  She let me know the door was unlocked and to come straight in when I arrived so I do and find her already in bed, curled up in the dark.

  I undress as swiftly and deftly as I can without tripping over on my ass and climb in beside her. She moves to let me in but she doesn’t jump on me like she normally does. That was the first hint I should’ve taken notice of. The second hint something wasn’t right was her wet cheeks as I pushed up against her and held her face, ready to kiss her.

  “Are you crying?”

  “Why did you call me tonight?” she throws back at me, ignoring my question.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” I laugh shortly, pressing my erection against her.

  “You could have sex with anyone at the club and it would save you riding out here to see me. Why me, why tonight?”

  Sighing, I fall back on the mattress and wish I had stayed at the club. Why is it so important to dissect every detail? Why can’t we just have fun? She was up for it when she first came to town and now she wants to talk and shit.

  “You came all this way for an hour or two, why?” she pushes, and I lose it.

  “Because I like fucking you, I also ride out to Hanks for a burger because I fucking like them. What’s going on with you tonight? Are you on your period?”

  Oh fuck.

  That was not the right thing to say. She leaps out from under the sheets and lands on me, straddling my waist.

  Her slaps rain down on my chest and over my head, she manages to get a few good ones in before I spin her around and clamp her wrists down over her head.

  I lay on top of her, spreading my weight evenly, and keep her locked down underneath me.

  “Tell me why you were crying?”

  “Because of you, asshole.”

  “I’m always an asshole, but you haven’t cried before.”

  “You don’t see what I don’t want you to,” she spits out and I fully believe her.

  I don’t like the sound of her crying behind my back, or the idea of her crying at all. I stroke her cheek until it dries under my touch and lace my fingers through her hair.

  “I need you to stay tonight,” she whispers softly.

  “I can’t.”

  “You mean you won’t.”

  “I mean, I can’t. We’re going on a run first thing tomorrow, I need to be at the club.”

  Sorrow oozes from her and I let go off her arms and climb off her, sliding off the bed as I go. This is wrong. I can’t fuck her while she’s this upset.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m not going to fuck you while you’re clearly upset. I’m going home.”

  “No, please, stay,” she sobs, and I step back as she reaches out for me.

  Fiery, unpredictable, irrational, those are the words I would describe about Harper if anyone asked. Emotional would never be one and I don’t know how to handle her in this state.

  “Stop, Harper. Honestly, what’s wrong with you?”

  “You,” she says and lays down, turning her back to me.

  “It’s not my intention to make you feel like this, maybe it’s time we called it quits.”

  She doesn’t flinch or say a word. She keeps her back to me and it’s the first time I’m leaving without her kicking off, or something being hauled at my head.

  I’ve got a lot time for Harper when she’s on the same level as me, but, when she’s like this and only getting worse, it’s time to say goodbye. It’s a shame, I liked her a lot.

  PRESENT

  I lied in the note I left her this morning. I didn’t leave when she fell asleep. I stayed until the sun started to rise. I couldn’t leave her, every time I wasn’t touching her, she cried out until she felt me against her. She needed me in her sleep. She always wanted me to stay with her so she could sleep, and I regret not doing so more than anything.

  And now, as she stands at the sink a beautiful broken mess, I can’t answer her because I don’t know how to describe what I want. I want her, but I don’t have a fucking clue what to do with her. I know I don’t want her with anyone else and I know I won’t let anyone else get close to hurt her again, that’s for fucking sure. I just don’t know what to do.

  I leave her to eat and walk over to my dad and pull out a chair beside him. I heard every word she told Cas and I could barely swallow past the lump in my throat.

  “She’s described every average looking fucker in the country…” Dad sighs as Cas cuts him off.

  “Apart from the president, she gave more than she thinks.”

  “The tattoos?” I hedge.

  Cas nods and I sit forward. Any lead is worth going on.

  “The one who attacked her had distinctive tattoos, that could help us. I’ll get Slade on it.”

  “Are you sure that’s wise?” Pope asks.

  “I’ll do it,” I pipe in, and they both look at me.

  “Oh yeah?” Cas smirks.

  “What? I can handle it, I’m more than a pretty face,” I shrug.

  “Okay, then. I want you to go to the motel they held her at and take a look around, then see what you can find out about the tattoos.”

  “Sure, I’ll get Leo.”

  “No, Leo isn’t leaving the clubhouse. Take Zach.”

  Cas’s word is final, and I nod.

  “Sure.”

  Pushing out of the chair, my dad’s hand grips onto my wrist and he stands beside me.

  “Watch your back out there. Don’t be acting the hero just to make her happy if it gets in the way of you coming home.”

  “I’ll be back, don’t worry about me.”

  He snorts like he usually does because he always worries about me, even though he acts like he doesn’t.

  He releases me, and I head for Zach at the bar. Stepping around the stool no one is allowed to sit on, in memory of Oak, a brother taken from us when I was a kid, I slap Zachery on the back and his drink spills over his hand as he’s raising it to his mouth.

  “Put that down, we’ve got shit to do.”

  “Care to explain what?”

  I relay to him what Cas wants and he’s on his feet before I can finish. Neither of us have left the clubhouse for weeks and he’s as ready to get out of here as I am.

  “Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready to leave.”

  Zach blurs into the background as Harper walks through the door, carrying two bottles of water, and slips upstairs. I hate that she’s going to hide in her room. I also hate that she saw me and acted like she hadn’t.

  As Harper disappears up the stairs, mom’s frown replaces her in my line of sight. Shaking her head at me, I sigh and drag my ass over to her. I may as well get this over and done with.

  “What have I done now?” I chuckle, knowing there is something I have done to cause her to frown my way.

  I’ve seen it too many times. It’s a part of me.

  “Harper.”

  One word and I regret coming over.

  “Why?”

  “Leave her alone if you’re not genuinely interested in her. I saw you leaving her room early this morning, you cannot mess with her.”

  “Mom, I’m being genuine,” I assure her.

  Narrowing her eyes, she stares at me until she’s satisfied I’m not lying to her.

  “You better be, because if she leans on you and you mess her around, she might not bounce back the right way. She’s got so much bouncing around in her head, you fucking her around shouldn’t be one.”

  It frightens me that I have so much influence over someone, how my actions and words can make an impact so much that it can cause pain.

  “I’m trying to help her, I’m not going to push her for anything, and I’m not going to hurt her.”

  Anymore.

  Zach jogs down the stairs and looks ready to go.

  “Look, mom. I’ve got to go…”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’d love to tell you, mom, but it’s club business.”

&nb
sp; I love those two words. Club business. They get you out of having to explain stuff you know is going to cause you grief.

  “Ready?” Zach grunts as he passes, and I nod.

  Kissing my mom on the cheek, I dart out of the bar and over to my bike. Zach started parking his ride closer to the gate a while ago. I don’t know why, and I don’t intend on asking.

  Leo’s ride is still in pieces in the garage and I’m surprised he didn’t rip Zach’s head off for hurting his machine.

  Mine is my pride and joy. My dad taught me everything building it up from the scrap heap I found it in and I loved those times with him. If anyone so much as breathes on my machine, I would rip their throats out.

  I can’t help looking up at the window where Harper is behind and frown when the curtains are drawn so she can hide from the world.

  I’m going to make this right for her, any way I can, I will. The ride is quiet, and Zach pulls in beside me. The first thing to catch his eye is something sticking out of the trash can.

  Swinging his leg over his bike, he walks over to the can and sitting on the top is Harper’s wedged sandals. I can’t believe they’re still here.

  Scanning the parking lot, I can’t see anything else of hers, or anything that is out of place.

  “I reckon we’ll have more luck with the tattoos,” I say, pulling out a smoke.

  “I’ll google tattoo parlours in Crow territory.”

  He’s like his dad with technology. Very fucking good with it. I imagine Slade taught him everything he knows and then he knows even more.

  “There are three parlours we can check out. We should head back and dress down and take a car.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Anything that gets us closer to getting revenge for Harper is progress in my book.

  “Let’s go.”

  The first two parlours weren’t what we were looking for. One was an upscale place that was far from taking bookings from bikers. The second parlour was boarded up and looked like it went out of business years ago. So, now, we’re sitting outside the third place and my gut is telling me this is the place the Crow’s come to get tatted.

  I inspect my own ink that I can see and smile at the spider’s web on my hand. It was my first tat and I waited months to get it. Mom said I had to wait till I was eighteen, but dad took me on my sixteenth birthday, mom lost her shit until dad told me to get out the house for a while. I escaped to Leo’s to show off my new ink and when I returned, mom made me promise to wait till I was eighteen for any more, I promised, and that was that.

  I must admit, I loved being an only child. I always got what I wanted, and I had my parent’s attention whenever I wanted it.

  “What’s going on between you and my cousin?” Zach asks, bringing me out of my head.

  Why does everyone keep asking me this? No one’s given a shit about who I’ve banged before, it’s getting tiring that they are now.

  “Honestly, I have no idea. I’m trying to give her space but be there for her too, if she wants me.”

  “Has she said anything about to you about Cas?”

  “No.”

  Even if she had, I wouldn’t share her business. If she wanted Zach to know, she can tell him herself.

  He doesn’t push me any further and we watch the shop. No one has come out or gone in for the last hour and I blow out a heavy breath.

  “What’s going on with you lately?” I ask him.

  He pulls out a joint from his inside cut pocket and lights it up. Tilting his head back, he exhales the smoke and offers me a hit.

  Shaking my head, I decline and frown. I’m not against a smoke, but not when I’m driving. Zach’s been smoking pot since high school, he’s constantly high, but if you were to look at him, you wouldn’t know. He’s a fully functional pothead.

  “I’ve got shit I’m working through.” Is all he says.

  He’s never been a chatter or the loudest of the bunch.

  “Are you going to elaborate?”

  “Are you gonna make Harper your old lady?”

  “If she’d have me, yes.”

  The words are out of my mouth and I’m just as shocked as he is. I gulp and throw my head back on the head rest, closing my eyes.

  I want her as mine and I have no idea how to make that happen. I can’t guess and take it as trial by error or she’ll hate me forever. One thing I can do to bring her a slice of happiness is make sure the men who took her, and the man who hurt her disappear permanently.

  “I’m going in,” I say, opening the door. I can’t wait around any longer.

  Zach’s arm shoots across and stops me.

  “What’s the deal? I need to know before we go in there.”

  For a beat I thought he was going to say it was a bad idea, then I remember I’m dealing with Zach and nothing is a bad idea to him anymore.

  “They showcase big pieces in folders and on the walls in studios, right? Harper said the president has a big ass crow on his back, if it was done here and it was a piece to be proud of, it’ll be on show, it might even have his face in the picture.”

  He catches on quick and lets go of my arm. “Fine, but we’re not staying long.”

  It’s not like I want to.

  We both climb out of the car, jog across the street and slow down to open the door. A bell chimes over our heads and three tattoo artists look up from their sessions. There’s no one on the desk, until a fine looking pixie shoots out from the back. She’s covered in tattoos and is already making eyes at Zach. He takes advantage to talk to her and I scope out the photos on the wall. There are many pieces and I’m impressed, they seem talented here.

  “It’s for my friend, he’s looking to have a portrait done.”

  “Who does he want inked on him?”

  “His mom, he’s a momma’s boy at heart and that’s where he wants her.”

  As soon as we’re out of the parlour and back in the car, I’m going to slap him so hard his fucking momma feels it.

  The pixie receptionist snorts and I carry on looking over the photos. So fucking many, I stop at a crow but it’s the wrong one. This is on a guy’s chest and it’s the size of my hand. He’s probably a Crow but not the one we’re looking for.

  It’s not until I come to the last section that a full back piece screams at me. This has to be it. And then everything stops.

  The prick in the photo has his back to the camera, obviously wanting to snap the tat, but he’s looking over his shoulder, smirking like an asshole who got the cream, or a really good tattoo.

  There is a slight tremor in my hands as I pull out my phone and take my own photo of him for evidence for the club.

  “Hey,” someone calls out. “No photos.”

  I hold my hands up and smile brightly.

  “My bad, don’t worry, me and my friend were just leaving.”

  Slade is going to shit a brick when he sees this, and I have a few questions for Harper myself. Everything she has told us has been lies. She said she didn’t know who the president was, but there was no chance she didn’t recognise him as he delivered blow after blow.

  I should’ve known she was hiding something, I’m the one who knows her best, even if I don’t know her that well.

  “If you like what you see, talk to Jemima, she’ll book you in and you can get your own ink, but I doubt you’ll be Crowing in.”

  I stop and turn back around.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means nothing, get out of here,” another artist pipes in.

  In a split second, my mood flips, and I don’t like his tone. I slide my phone into my back pocket and crack my knuckles, making it real obvious what I’m intending to do. I find it insulting he assumes I’m not good enough to be a dirty crow.

  “Is my business not good enough for you?” I grunt. “How do you know I don’t study Crows or some shit?”

  One of these pricks tattooed Ellis, they know him and until I can get my hands on him, one of them will do taking his place. br />
  “Do you study Crows?” the third tattooist asks.

  “It doesn’t matter, they’re leaving,” the first tattooist says.

  Zach comes up beside me and I smell the pixie receptionist’s perfume before I see her. I’m not in the mood and I’m not leaving here without causing a little trouble.

  “We’ll leave when we’re ready to leave.”

  I spy the reception desk and a shiny, state of the art computer monitor sits pretty that looks too comfortable.

  The parlour isn’t that big, it doesn’t take long for me to get my hands on the expensive piece of technology and rip out the power cord. I launch it across the room and it bounces off the wall where Ellis’s photos are.

  All three tattooists are on their feet before it hits the floor.

  “What’s your problem?” one roars.

  “The fuck?” another yells.

  I don’t stop, and Zach is quick to jump in. We toss the place in a matter of seconds and then two out of the three artists come for us. I inch towards Zach and find he is backing up towards me.

  I throw the first punch and Zach’s quick to follow. Between us, we have the two tattooists down on their asses faster than lightning. The third stays at his station and is holding his phone up, recording us. He’s going to regret this. He realises too late that I’m coming for him and for someone who is watching the whole thing, he doesn’t duck when I smash my fist into his nose.

  He drops the phone and I quickly scoop it up off the floor and launch it at the wall. It lands on the floor in one piece and the screen cracked. It’s not enough, I take three steps and grind my boot into the phone until it’s no condition to work again.

  “Come on, brother, let’s go.”

  I spin around at Zach’s command and notice the pixie casually sitting her desk, watching us like we’re a day time soap opera.

  Panting, I head for the door, stepping over the artists and dip my head to the receptionist.

  “Woop,” I holler as we run back across the street to the car.

  My blood is rushing, it’s going to take a while for this natural high to come down. One thought of Harper and it crashes, hard.

  “You found something, didn’t you?” Zach asks.