Crossing Lines (Roughshod Rollers MC Book 1) Read online

  I’ve been there through almost everything.

  So why walk away now? I’ve been with the Roughshod Rollers for so long, it just seems like a complete waste of my time to walk away just to find a different jacket. Besides, my jacket is worn in and warm; the leather soft after multiple washes. A new jacket would be stiff and it would smell funny.

  That’s my excuse, and I’m sticking with it.

  The door opens again and Liam walks in. Fucking great. Grant is the most honest man I know, but he’s also the type to sit back and not get involved. Liam, though… He’s the guy that likes to play hero. Sure enough, when he sees me, he frowns and starts walking over to me, his eyes flicking to one of my dates, the one covered in beer.

  “Yes?” I drawl as he gets closer.

  “Does it make you happy to torture people like this?” Liam demands.

  I give him an incredulous look.

  “Yes,” I say, as though he should have known the answer.

  He scoffs, disgusted, and turns to Brunette, his expression softening.

  “Do you want me to take you to the staff room so you can clean up in private?” he asks.

  “Uh…” She looks at me. “No thanks, I’m okay like this.”

  I grin at Liam, who looks frustrated. Such is my hold that this woman will voluntarily sit covered in beer until I want to leave, just because that’s what I want her to do. The control is heady, and I grin victoriously at Liam, who knows he has lost.

  “Don’t worry,” I purr, dragging the brunette against me. I lick a long stripe up her neck and Liam scowls at me. “I’ll make sure to get it all off later. After all, I don’t want to go wasting good beer.”

  I can see that Liam is mad. But there’s nothing else he can say, not if he wants to avoid starting a fight. I can see, for a moment, that he’s thinking about it. But then he huffs and turns away.

  “Not worth it,” he mutters.

  “Yeah?” I ask, not about to admit that that stings a little. “Like you have any room to judge. You can’t keep your dick in your pants for a full twenty-four hours!”

  Liam goes white and then he flushes. I grin at his embarrassment. He thinks he’s so smart, hiding himself away, but I noticed the change, of course. Little Liam is all grown up and chasing a real relationship.

  Excuse me while I puke.

  “Get over yourself, Green,” Liam scoffs, continuing back to the bar.

  But I can see, by the clenched fist at his side, that he’s frustrated. I grin and lean back, satisfied with having brought out that reaction. I wonder if the man knows what I know, but I don’t think he does yet.

  All the more power to me, then. I’ll hold onto this until I need to use it, then.

  “Tom,” the brunette simpers. “Can we go yet?”

  “Not yet,” I say. “Go get me another beer.”

  She hurries to obey and I drain the last of the beer that I have. I kick back, looking for all the world as though I don’t care about anything.

  As Liam, Ethan and Grant bend their heads together once more, though, I close my eyes and concentrate all my energy into hearing what they have to say.

  I hate them all.

  I don’t want to know them.

  But the Roughshod Rollers is my club, and I’ll be damned if anyone decides to take it away from me.

  Ethan

  I shake my head at Tom and try to concentrate on what Liam is saying. It’s difficult to, though, especially when I can see the way Tom is straining to overhear what we’re saying.

  It’s ironic that Tom thinks he has it all figured out. What would the others say, I wonder, if they knew what lengths the man has gone to in order to raise money?

  But I know. I shouldn’t, and Tom would kill me if he knew that I knew, but I am aware of someone involved in Tom’s newest business; the sale of stolen alcohol.

  It was the worst-kept secret that Tom regularly lifts alcohol from the nearby stores. In all honesty, I’m not entirely certain how he’s gotten away with it until now. He always has a fully stocked cupboard at the club’s house.

  Two weeks ago, that stock disappeared. No one else noticed, too caught up in the drama surrounding the house to care. I did, and I knew it was Tom. Who else could it be?

  Then I heard from one of my friends. Tom has been selling the alcohol off. I was suspicious, but I didn’t pay much thought to it; it was just Tom being Tom, yet again, and I wanted nothing to do with the originally stolen alcohol, anyway.

  Then I noticed the way our total savings rose in bits and pieces. I traced these amounts back to Tom, and it suddenly occurred to me why he was selling all that alcohol.

  In his own way, he’s been trying to save the house.

  Tom is a nasty piece of work, no doubt about it. He’s an asshole who loves watching others suffer and he isn’t above treating the rest of the world like we’re beneath him. But he’s also loyal to a fault.

  I shake my head clear of thoughts about Tom.

  “…Ethan was just saying he had a pretty good idea,” I hear Grant say, and I drag myself back to the present.

  “Sorry?” I ask.

  “Is your head in the clouds?” Liam asks, amused.

  “Something like that,” I say noncommittally.

  “Tell Liam what you told me,” Grant says, his eyes gleaming. He looks hopeful for the first time in a while.

  “Ah!” I say, remembering. “So, you remember Georgia Turner, right?”

  “Right…” Liam says slowly. “Your childhood friend, right? The one who normally kicks you out of your own front door when you need a break?”

  I flush. “Yeah, man, that one.” I cough awkwardly as Grant and Liam both snigger at me. “Anyway, Georgia is a journalist, right? She’s been asking around, and she says she might know a few people who are willing to donate the rest of what we need!”

  “Are you serious!” Liam asks, eyes popping out. “Wait, that means…?”

  “That means we have a really good chance at saving the house and coming up with the money to buy it,” I say with a grin.

  I glance over at Tom. His eyes are still closed, but there’s no mistaking the way his lips tugged into a quick grin.

  “She’s going to get in contact with some of them tomorrow,” I add, pleased. “Nothing is set in stone, so don’t celebrate yet, but…it’s hopeful.”

  “We don’t need much more,” Grant says. “Does Georgia know how much to ask for?”

  “Of course, I’ve told her everything,” I say with a nod.

  The two of them look at me, eyebrows raised.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Seriously, Ethan, when are you just going to fuck her and be done with it?” Grant asks bluntly.

  My jaw drops.

  “Are you kidding?” I spluttered. “You do know who we’re talking about, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, Georgia, right?” Liam says with a nod. “About yay big, brown hair, big br…”

  “Okay, I get the picture,” I say, scowling. “Come on, guys, I still remember when she was little Georgie and still wetting the bed.”

  “She’s a grown woman, now,” Liam points out. He grins dopily. “A fine one, at that. If you don’t want her, I definitely do.”

  The thought of Georgia sleeping with Liam, a known womanizer, makes me feel oddly uncomfortable.

  “Whatever,” I huff. “All I’m saying is that it’s difficult not to remember the kid who used to run, naked and screaming, around our living room.”

  “Where were you during all this?” Liam asks, eyebrows wagging.

  “First, we were five,” I say, annoyed. “Secondly, I happened to be playing with my blocks while she was doing this.” I scowl. “She kicked one when she ran past and one hit me in the head. I got the corner and it split the skin, so I had to get fucking stitches.”

  I’m not surprised when Grant and Liam laugh at the mental imagery. I frown at them both.

  “Anyway,” I say loudly. “This time tomorrow, we might have the m
oney we need.”

  “That’s awesome, Ethan, thank Georgia for us, yeah?” Liam says.

  “It is good of her to put so much effort in for us,” Grant says seriously. “If she can pull this off, we’ll owe her big time.”

  “Yeah,” I laugh. “Though I’m probably not going to let her live it down that she came racing in to be the hero at the last second.”

  “It probably took some time to talk to all those people,” Liam points out.

  “I know,” I assure him. I grin. “I just like teasing her.”

  Grant snorts. “Uh huh. Speaking of… How is Lily’s mother-hunt going?”

  I flush, glaring at him when he grins, unrepentant.

  Lily is my only daughter. Her mother ran off several years ago and, while I could have tracked her down (one of my club mates is a detective, after all), I just never bothered. She didn’t bother sticking around, so why drag her back when she would likely just run again?

  As such, it has been just Lily and I for ten long years. Georgia, admittedly, has been a godsend; she’s always over to help, and she babysits when I need to get out once every now and then.

  Lily, on the other hand, has been having a peculiar reaction over her lack of a mother, recently.

  More to the point, she has been actively seeking a new mother.

  It’s surprising how many single mothers her school happens to have; at this point, I think I’ve been introduced to every one of the poor women by my determined daughter. I am quite proud of her spirit; but damn, I wish she would just back off a bit. If I want to date, I’ll do it on my own time, not just because my daughter says it’s okay.

  “Shut up,” I growl. “She introduced me to her teacher yesterday. Do you know how horrifying it was when she said “Here’s Miss Thompson; she’s single so you can date her!” before running off? I don’t know who was more embarrassed; me or the teacher!”

  “Was she hot at least?” Liam asks with a leering grin.

  I throw him a dirty look. “I’m more concerned with the upcoming parent-teacher meetings. That’s going to be fucking awful.”

  “I’ll say,” Grant says sympathetically, but his lips are twitching, the asshole.

  “Don’t worry about it, Ethan,” Liam says, swinging an arm over my shoulders. For a moment I think he’s going to say something meaningful. “Just bang the teacher and get it over with. No more awkwardness after that!”

  I give him a deadpan stare.

  “Or it will be more awkward,” I point out.

  Grant coughs, hiding a laugh. “I’d say Lily is just worried that you’re lonely.”

  I open my mouth to reply, and then think about this. Am I lonely? I know that’s why Lily is pushing so hard, because she’s worried about me. Naturally, she wants a mother, but I’m certain she isn’t overly concerned about that.

  No, her primary goal, my beautiful little girl, is to make sure I’m happy.

  “I’m not lonely,’ I say after a long moment. “I have my club, and I have Lily and I have Georgia.” I sigh. “Admittedly, having a kid makes it hard to date, but I don’t really care about dating much right now, anyway.”

  Their teasing smiles fall away, both of them recognizing that now isn’t the best time to taunt me. I hate the serious air that has descended on us as they consider my situation.

  But, does it matter? I don’t regret it. Having Lily as a teenager… I was foolish then, and her mother was equally so. Neither of us was prepared to have a child, especially since we were little more than teenagers ourselves. As such, it didn’t surprise me when the mother ran off when Lily was barely one, unable to handle it any longer.

  Maybe, if I was sensible, I would have adopted Lily out. Or maybe I would have allowed her grandparents to raise her; both sets of grandparents had been eager to, after all, and I’m still in contact with Lily’s maternal grandparents, my ex-girlfriend never being mentioned by any of us.

  But Lily is mine. I don’t regret raising her alone, though sometimes I wonder how she turned out so wonderful when her only model was me. When Georgia and I laugh and joke about it, I often say that it’s her influence that Lily draws on, which never fails to make my childhood friend blush scarlet; her pale skin and naturally red, wild hair always making her embarrassment incredibly obvious.

  Raising Lily meant that I probably missed out on a lot of things in my later teen years and early twenties, but…

  “Don’t worry, guys,” I say with a laugh. “Come on, it’s my night out and, hopefully, we can celebrate just a little.”

  The two of them grin at my words and I smile. Lily, Georgia and the Roughshod Rollers… The three things in my life that I can’t live without.

  And I’m not about to give up any of them.

  Kyle

  I pull my bike up outside the Anchor Bar and drag my helmet off my head with a sigh, running a rough hand over my messy hair. I’m tired and aching for bed, but, with the way my head is spinning about the house and its potential destruction, there’s no way I’ll sleep until I get an answer of some kind.

  In all honesty, though, I’m not sure I want to hear the answer. So far, everything we have tried has been useless. That fucking son of a bitch, Burke, makes me boil with rage every time I imagine his smug smirk as we try and reason with him. I don’t even know why he wants to put a convenience store there when there’s one only two streets away. Part of me thinks it’s just to mess with us. He’s disgusting enough that I wouldn’t put it past him.

  Can we even save the house? I close my eyes and consider this for a moment. We’ve all been trying so hard, but we only have three more days to come up with everything we need.

  It’s starting to look impossible. As much as I want to protect the house and everyone in the club, I just can’t. As one of the original, founding members, it’s a failure that grates on me.

  I sigh and swing my leg off the bike and make my way toward the door. I can already hear the sound of the music through the bar door, and I think a drink, right now, is just what I need to banish these dark thoughts.

  “Kyle! Kyle Jacobs!”

  I look around at the sound of my name and watch as Alex barrels toward me. The man - who is normally so calm and put together - looks oddly disheveled. He’s thrown his club jacket on haphazardly and his hair is a mess, his glasses hanging crookedly.

  Despite this, he’s grinning wildly.

  “You alright?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

  “More than,” he says with feeling. “Grant’s on the bar tonight, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I say, growing more confused.

  “Good, I can tell both of you at the same time, then,” he says, darting away and into the bar.

  I debate whether to follow him. Maybe all the research he’s been doing lately, trying to save the house, has made him a little insane. After a moment, I follow him in with a sigh; whatever has got him in such a mess had better be good.

  Liam and Ethan are also at the bar, and Alex is making a beeline toward them. I stump after them as Grant gravitates in their direction, too, curious about the flushed smile on Alex’s face. Nearby, I can see Alex’s feet kicked up on a table, very carefully not looking in our direction.

  I snort. The man is about as subtle as an elephant, sometimes.

  “So?” I ask. “What’s all this about?”

  “The house,” Alex says, looking pleased with himself. “I have him.”

  It takes me a moment to figure it out. Then I gape. Because, last week, Alex let it slip to me that he was working on a case involving the corruption of William Burke.

  “You have evidence?” I demand.

  “Enough to remove him from office, to start,” Alex says smugly. “After that, the police can decide what to do with the rest.”

  “What is going on?” Liam asks, exasperated.

  “Oh, nothing…only that William Burke won’t be able to cause us problems for much longer,” Alex smirks. “Come tomorrow, he’ll be out of town hall and we can petition
for the house to be donated.” He grins. “After all the trouble Burke’s given us, the trouble they condoned from a criminal, I don’t doubt they’ll be happy to help us out.”

  I’ve always known that Alex Howard is sneaky and unconventional, but this takes it to an all new level. In one fell swoop, he took out our enemy and ensured that we would get our house back.

  “It’s not set in stone yet,” Alex adds. “I’ll have to talk to the councilman that put me on the case. But…” He shrugs. “It looks like we will win!”

  “Awesome!” Ethan cheers. “Now this does call for celebration!”

  “What the hell are we going to do with all that money?” Liam laughs.

  “Donate it?” Grant suggests.

  “Or…we renovate,” I say slowly.

  The others look at me, stunned by the suggestion. I shrug.

  “The house is falling apart,” I point out. “Soon it won’t be livable anymore and all this will be useless. So why don’t we use the money to renovate?”

  I can see the idea dawning on them all, excitement lighting up their features as they consider this. If we could renovate the house, we wouldn’t have broken windows, leaky roofs or holes in the wall to worry about.

  “It might almost be cheaper to just knock it down and start again!” Grant says.

  “We can decide that later,” Alex says with a nod. “To start with, though, this round is on me, guys, in celebration!” He smiles sheepishly. “Hopefully this works; I don’t have a back-up plan.”

  This doesn’t surprise me. Alex, who always makes plans within plans, has been struggling as much as the rest of us to come up with one plan (ones that don’t consist of bake sales, at any rate).

  “I might have a back-up,” Ethan says cheerfully as Grant pours our drinks. “Georgia knows some people who might be willing to make up the rest of what we need. So if your plan fails, we’ll just buy it back and find the money to renovate somewhere else.”

  “Great,” Alex says, grinning. He gulps at his beer. “We’ll spread the word; one way or another, we fucking did it!”