Kristen Ashley - Motorcycle Man

I therefore leaned into him but jerked my arm straight back behind me, pointing to my car. “Yes,” I hissed, “and that’s my girl. So, lesson, boys, he hit my girl and he took advantage of her when she was too young to get it. So this is woman’s work and I’m fucking lead. This goes south, you step in. But it won’t go south, trust me.”

“You got a black belt or somethin’?” Tug asked curiously.

“No,” I answered then yanked the pepper spray out of my pocket and showed it to him, “I’ve got a surprise.”

Tug grinned. Roscoe’s eyebrows shot up but he still looked unimpressed. Shy looked to the ceiling created by the upper walkway.

I decided we’d delayed enough and pushed through them in order to stomp to apartment number five. I felt them close in behind me as I lifted my hand and knocked, loud.

“Fuck off!” came a shout from inside.

Rude.

Not a surprise but also fucking with my plan.

“Open this door!” I shouted back.

“Go fuck yourself,” was returned.

“Open this door!” I repeated. “I’m not going to ask again.”

“Kiss my ass!”

“Right, then!” I yelled then stepped back and swung my arm toward the door while ordering, “Bust it in.”

“Babe, a charge of breaking and entering will also get us a stay in lockup,” Shy rationally pointed out.

I’d had a bad evening, a worse night and not much sleep. Tabby was pissed at me, bleeding and she’d just found out her boyfriend was a jerk. It was the wee hours of morning.

I was in no mood for rational.

I was in the mood to kick some ass.

So I shrieked, “Bust it in!”

“Jesus, fuckin’ hell, all right, all right,” Roscoe muttered, positioned, lifted a motorcycle-boot clad foot and slammed it into the door.

It popped right open.

I shoved through the boys again and stormed right in.

I saw my mistake immediately when I saw the baseball bat swinging in the direction of my head. Luckily, I was presently Arctic Tyra and I had a mission I was not going to allow to be foiled so I had the presence of mind to duck. The bat whiffed over me, I heard Shy’s growled, angry, “Fuck,” but ignored it and I came up, armed with pepper spray.

I aimed, I shot.

My luck in life was up for debate.

My luck in that moment wasn’t because the spray worked.

He howled, dropped the bat, his hands went to his face and he tripped over his feet in retreat.

“What the fuck! What the fuck! What the fuck is that?” he shouted.

I noted vaguely he was kind of cute so I understood his allure to Tabby. I also vaguely noted his Momma needed to make a visit to do some cleaning. At the same time I stayed on target, dropped my spray and advanced.

I got my opportunity and hit him, palm open, slapping him hard right across the face.

He was in such a state, he couldn’t correct himself and fell to his hands and knees.

I bent over him and asked sweetly, “Feel good?”

“Fuck!” he shouted then started crawling and ran into a coffee table.

I grabbed his shirt, yanked him back and twisted him. When I got my shot, I slapped him again with such force, his head snapped around.

“How about that?” I asked. “Feel good?”

He swung blindly out with his arms so it was easy to avoid them.

“Fuck off! Get out! I’m callin’ the cops!” he yelled.

“Yeah? You are?” I asked, leaning in. “If you were going to do that, you would have done it. But you’re not. Because you don’t want to answer uncomfortable questions about why your girlfriend is sixteen.”

Then I slapped him again and he fell to his side.

“Get off me!” he shouted, getting his knees under him and starting awkwardly to crawl on them and one hand because he was using his other hand to swipe at his eyes.

I did the yanking at the tee thing again and when I’d jerked him back to his ass, I grabbed onto it at the front and got in his face.

“Why she’s not only sixteen, but you hit her,” I went on. “And bloodied her goddamn nose!” I hissed then held him still while I slapped him then I did it again. Then I went in for a third go while his hands pulled at my forearm attached to the hand fisted in his tee and his head and body jerked to get away from me.

“Red, you’re done.”

My body went still at the sound of Tack’s low, gravelly voice. Then I let go, straightened and turned to see Tack, Brick, Dog and Boz standing with Shy, Roscoe and Tug inside the door.

This meant Roscoe, Tug or Shy had called the boys and I made a note to self that the next time I enlisted Chaos recruits to dish out retribution, I made clear that our operation was flying under radar.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

I asked Tack but it was Boz who answered.

“Enjoying the fuck outta the show. Shit, Cherry, you’re cute, all badass and pissed off and kickin’ squirrel-ball ass.”

It wasn’t a compliment I thought I’d ever get. Still, it wasn’t half bad.

“Go see to Tab,” Tack ordered and I looked from an amused Boz to a very, very unamused Tack as I vaguely heard Squirrel-Balls scrambling, sniffing and breathing heavily behind me.

It was then I felt the scary, badass biker vibe in the room. It was blazing. It was serious. It was terrifying. It was all-encompassing. So much, it was suffocating. And it was not coming from the bikers collectively.

No, it was coming from Tack and Tack alone.

I bit my lip.

I’d never seen it, Tack breathing fire. I thought I had. He had a temper, no doubt about it, and that temper was scary. I might have got a hint of it after the Russians abducted me but by the time he got to me, he’d had time to cool down.

But this.

This was something else.

“Go,” he growled. “See,” he kept growling. “To Tab!” he barked, leaning toward me.

I moved toward the door muttering, “I’ll just go see to Tabby.”

No one spoke.

Unfortunately, my path to escape was covered in bikers with Tack being right inside the door. When I made it to him, I turned to the side, sucked in my gut and tried to squeeze by him but failed.

He caught my upper arm and my eyes flew to his.

“My house. She needs to be home. And when I get there, babe, you better be there.”

Oh boy.

I held his eyes.

Then I nodded.

He let me go.

I went to see to Tab.

“Tabby, honey, please,” I whispered to the girl lying on her side in her bed, her back to me, ignoring me as I sat on the side of her bed, pleading with her.

Suffice it to say, things were not going well.

On the way up to Tack’s we stopped at a fast food drive-thru and I got her a drink, a water and a shed load of napkins. I instructed Tabby to hold the drink on her face and use the water and napkins to clean up as best she could until we got home. She did as instructed but she did it silently and she didn’t once look at me.

I’d not even come to a complete halt outside Tack’s house when her door was open and she was out. By the time I got fully parked, the car turned off and hustled in, she was behind closed doors in the bathroom.

I decided to wait it out because she couldn’t stay in there forever and it was the right decision. She’d come out, blood free but nose swollen with the fast food cup still pressed to her eye.

“I’ll get you some ice,” I offered.

She looked through me and walked to her room.

I went to get her ice.

Her door was closed and locked when I got back. I called, I knocked and doing so woke up Rush.

This was not good but it was unavoidable. Tabby would have a shiner the next morning. He’d eventually find out.

Trying to take the drama out of it, and failing seeing as it was dramatic, I shared what was happening and then watched Rush morph into a mini-me Tack Dragon.

Then he kicked his sister’s door in.

The good news was, Tabby was no longer barricaded away from those who cared about her who could take care of her after the events of that night.

The bad news was, the door would need to be repaired.

The further bad news was, Rush was weeks away from eighteen and already kind of scary.

I decided to file that away to worry about at a later date (if I was around to worry about it) and instead prioritize.

This led us to now. Tabby took the ice and set aside the fast food cup but she also instantly curled with her back facing me, her face resting on the ice, me sitting on the side of her bed begging her to talk to me. Through this, her brother was standing across the room, arms crossed on his chest, looking like he wanted to murder someone.

I decided pleading wasn’t working so I tried another tactic.

“Okay, I’ll admit, maybe I lost my cool and didn’t handle that too well,” I told her.

Finally, a response.

“You think?” she muttered to her pillow.

“Tab, my beautiful girl, he hurt you,” I whispered.

No response.

“I’m worried about you, baby, and not just because you’re going to have a black eye tomorrow,” I said softly.

Still no response.

I kept at it.

“I’m worried because you have a boyfriend. I’m worried because of his age. I’m worried because you didn’t tell me or your Dad about it.”

Her eyes slid to me and she hissed, “You’re not my Mom.”

“No, but I’m your friend.”

Her eyes slid away while she stated, “You’re not that either.”

Ouch.

That hurt but I kept trying.

Putting my hand on her, I whispered, “Honey –”

Her shoulder twitched to shake my hand off but I felt something new in the room, it wasn’t a good new and I turned to the door just as Tack ordered, “Sit your ass up, now.”

Oh boy.

Seeing as his eyes were on his daughter I knew he wasn’t talking to me but I still got to my feet beside the bed.

“Can everyone just go away?” Tabby asked in a teenage whine.

“Ass. Up. Now,” Tack demanded, coming to stand at the foot of the bed where he crossed his arms on his chest just like his son was still doing.

I assessed him.

Nope.

The dragon had awoken and he wasn’t feeling tired just yet.

This wasn’t good.

“Tack –” I started and his eyes cut to me.

“Shut your mouth.”

Ouch.

I shut my mouth and took a step away from the bed.

Tack’s eyes sliced back to his daughter and he growled, “Tabby, won’t tell you again.”

I prayed she’d sit up and my prayer was answered. She did and leveled one narrowed eye on her father. The other one was covered up by ice. This was not a good stance to take for a variety of reasons.

“What’d we talk about?” Tack barked at her the instant she got in position.

“Dad –”

“What. Did we…” he leaned in and clipped harshly, “talk about?”

“No lies,” she whispered.

“Yeah. No lies. I trusted you. And you lied.”

Instantly, her bravado melted, her face collapsed and I started to go to her as tears filled her eyes.

“Do not fuckin’ move, Red,” Tack bit at me and I stilled.

Then, carefully, I said, “Kane, maybe now’s not –”

“You got a voice in this?” Tack asked, cutting me off and before I could answer he did. “No. You fuckin’ do not. So keep your mouth shut.”

I shut my mouth as I felt pressure build in my head again.

Tack looked back at Tabby.

“Got yourself hurt,” he pointed out the obvious.

“Dad –” she whispered.

“Coulda got Tyra hurt,” he went on.

“She –” Tab started but got no further.

“She went chargin’ in there, he had a bat,” Tack informed her, her one visible eye shot to me and got wide. “Eyes to me,” Tack growled and she quickly looked back at her father. “Your ass does not leave this house for the rest of the summer,” he declared.

“Dad!” she cried, straightening up further and taking the ice away.

This was a bad idea. The swelling was up and the bruising had started to come out.

“Ice on your eye,” Tack clipped. “Keep it on. We’ll finish this tomorrow when I’m not in the mood to rip you a new asshole.”

I pulled in breath.

Uncle Marsh was right. Definitely not father of the year.

But it was none of my business. Tack made that perfectly clear.