DASH
I’m fucked. Completely and utterly fucked!
In the scheme of things, I’m nothing to this club. Just a prospect with a chip on his shoulder. A young kid who’s fallen for the wrong girl.
No, Ivy isn’t a girl.
She’s all fucking woman, with fight, fire, and an intensity in her I’ve never seen before. She’s bordering on the edge of crazy. I don’t know what it is about Ivy that has me panting like a fucking weak-ass puppy, but, for some reason, she gets me. Ivy gives me the time of fucking day, and I can’t say that for many of the people in my life, other than my family, of course.
My family is the entire reason I joined Defiance MC in the first place. A brotherhood behind me to protect them. To be an added extra layer of muscle should anything happen after the suspicious death of my father a year ago.
I never thought, not for a single second, that when prospecting in, I would raise the hell I have before I even had the chance to gain my patch. Turns out, I’m not the only brother with my eyes on Ivy. My VP and far superior, Void, does too. And if what I witnessed is anything to gauge things by, the battle for Ivy’s affections is swinging in his favor.
They were snuggling on the sofa in her makeshift bedroom in the Cell when I came down this morning. The sight was enough to make my heart stop and my stomach clench.
I’ve left it too fucking late to make my run.
Seeing them so cozy makes my chest ache in ways I didn’t know was possible.
Void has made his move, and my position in the “friend zone” is well and truly entrenched.
I fuck about in the lab next door, trying to cultivate the crop Ivy and I work so hard on together. It’s where we spend all our time. I guess I thought us working in such close proximity, us always being together, would mean something.
Guess I was fucking wrong.
But with Ivy in here working with me now, the tension in the air is rife with awkwardness as we attempt to make small talk. I’m taking my frustrations out on Ivy, and I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it.
Rejection fucking stings.
Especially when I didn’t get a chance to make my move.
Suddenly, Ivy turns to me. “Are we okay? I don’t like this…” she waves her hands around, “… us not talking.”
I exhale, put down my clipboard, and turn to her. “You know what, Ivy… no, we’re not okay.”
She stands taller, appearing shocked at my admission. I’m not sure what she’s expecting. For me to lie to her? Tell her everything is fucking “peachy keen” between us? “Okay… talk to me.”
I move in, stepping right into her space, and take her hand in mine. She jerks back a little, scrunching her brows together.
Great, I repulse you that much?
Fuck it!
“Why him, Ivy? Why Void?”
Her entire head recoils like she’s astounded I’m going there with this—now. “I… I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“Okay, let me rephrase… why not me? We have such good chemistry.”
She gasps, yanking her hand back from mine like it’s tainted. Ivy takes a giant step away from me, opening a huge chasm between us. “Dash…no… we’re friends—”
Fuck that! I quickly step back into Ivy’s space again, cutting her off, my eyes pleading with her to see sense in this madness. “But we don’t have to be. Please, Ivy, don’t you feel this?” I grab her hand again, placing it over my heart.
You’re everything to me…
Her gorgeous brown orbs glisten as her bottom lip trembles.
I see it. The second the thought enters her head, shattering my already fractured soul.
Don’t do this…
“It’s him, Dash. It’s always been him.”
My stomach turns with nausea.
I’ve put everything out there.
Taking us from the friend zone into something more.
I have to work with her in the lab, see her here at the club every fucking day, knowing she rejected me for my VP. I feel the blood drain from my face, and my breathing shallows. I move my hand from my chest, taking hers with it. Looking down at it one last time. Then, slowly taking a step back, I drop her hand.
“I… I’m sorry. I’m still your friend. I will always be your friend.” She slams another nail into the coffin. “But that’s all we’ll ever be.”
I can’t be here right now.
Not with her.
Not with my brothers.
I just need to fucking go.
Anywhere that doesn’t have Ivy fucking Pérez everywhere I damn well look.
Turning, I leave Ivy in my wake. I’m sure she and Void will have plenty to discuss in my absence. I’ll probably lose any chance I had at joining the club now, but honestly, in this moment…
I. Don’t. Fucking. Care.
Once I get to my ride, I throw my leg over my sleek black and chrome Harley, kick back the stand, and start her up without a second’s hesitation. I hammer down, making my way for the gate. West cranks it open, giving me a curt wave as I ride on through, and I let my rear tire slide out with the speed as I take off.
I open her up. I have no clue where I’m headed, just that I need to get away from the place I call home. From the woman who felt like home. Now she’s a prison sentence, and I’m locked in for life, watching her and Void get cozy while I have to sit back and do nothing more than grin and fucking bear it.
That shit does not bode well for me.
Maybe I should throw in the towel?
I want to be Defiance to protect my mother and siblings from whatever the hell it was that ended my father, but I can do that on my own.
Can’t I?
Letting out a long puff of air, I ride harder along the streets of Tampa city, disregarding the speed limit and the other citizens on the road as I roar past them.
I am fucking Defiance.
Since when am I supposed to be concerned about the damn law?
I ride with no destination in sight until I see a quaint little tavern—The Drunken Lime. With not much traffic out the front, I pull my Harley to a stop, figuring I may as well go and drink to try and numb this so-called friend zone pain.
I never thought I’d be one of those guys who lost his shit over a woman. I didn’t think I had it in me. But Ivy crawled under my skin, then sunk her claws in, burrowing her way right inside, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get her out.
Cutting the engine, I slide off my ride and head toward the entrance of the bar.
As I make my way to the door, it swings open to a young, gorgeous blonde holding an obviously drunk guy by his collar and belt. “And stay out, you pervy motherfucker!” she yells as she throws him to the curb.
He falls into a set of trash cans, then into the gutter, mumbling to himself about her being a bitch.
The woman wipes her hands together in a good-riddance gesture, then her eyes meet mine. She has the audacity to look me up and down, take in my club cut, and snort while turning her nose up at me like I’m shit she dragged in on her shoe. “I’ve had enough damn trouble with Handsy Harry over there. I don’t need you coming in and starting more, you hear me?” she demands.
I smirk. Somehow, my somber mood has all but lifted at her sassy attitude. “Yes, ma’am. Need me to take care of him for you?”
She scowls. “You think I can’t take care of that asshole myself?” She scoffs with a short shake of her head, then turns to storm back inside.
I chuckle, watching the way her curvy but toned ass sways as she makes her way back inside. This is definitely the bar for me to have a drink. Glancing back to Handsy Harry, I check he isn’t going to make a return anytime soon. The idiot is out for the count, so I spin on my heel and push through the door.
As I enter, I notice the place is small, with dim lighting. A miniature stage lines the back wall. Probably only big enough for a soloist to perform, definitely not any kind of real band. A few chairs and tables line the main area, and the smallest dance floor in the world is located just before the hallway which leads off to the bathrooms. Looking down the hall, I see the men’s room door is missing, and the door to the women’s has a giant hole through it. To the right, the bar is long and wooden, old-fashioned in its style, but the wall behind it is lined with mirrors and glass work. It’s like they’ve tried to modernize it, but the rest of the place is stuck in this twilight zone of shit and chaos truly the definition of a dive.
The leggy blonde from earlier is back behind the bar, already serving customers as I walk over and pull out a stool. Her gaze flicks to mine when I sit, and she gives me a look that says What’s a guy like you doing in a shithole like this? Though, to be fair, this ambiance calls out to criminals and thugs, so I’m unsure as to why she’d be surprised at a biker turning up here.
“What’s your poison?” she calls out from the other end.
I shudder. Goddamn! That one simple word reminds me of Ivy. Resting my arms on the top of the bar, I shrug. “Surprise me.”
She waggles her brows. “You got it.” With speed, she grabs a bottle each of scotch and amaretto. I have no fucking clue what she’s making, but what the hell. It’s a day of shit being fucked up, so I’ll drink anything right about now.
She grabs an old-fashioned glass, pours in the scotch followed by the amaretto, then stirs it slightly. She pushes a coaster over, wraps a napkin around the glass, then places it in front of me. “Looks like you’ve had a hard day. This should help.”
“You can tell all that from looking at me?”
She leans back against the counter behind her. “Part of the job… reading people.”
“And you couldn’t read that Harry was handsy before you had to kick him into the trash cans out there?”
She looks directly at me. “Drink your drink before I make you wear it, asshole.”
With a chuckle, I pick up the glass. The alcohol stings my nose, and I know it’s going to light a fire going down. As I bring it to my lips, my brow raises, the hit of scotch and almond liqueur intensely stiff, enough to burn my throat before I’ve even drank it. But then I sip, and it’s smooth as it glides down, warming my insides, calming me almost instantly. “Shit, that’s good,” I say, looking at the clear amber liquid in the glass. “What is it?”
I already know I’m going to need something to eat before I ride back to the clubhouse.
If I go back there at all tonight.
She nods like she knew I would like it. “It’s called the Godfather. Somehow, I thought that fitting for a man like you.”
“A man like me?” I tilt my head to the side.
She shrugs. “Crime lord, gangster, vigilante, outlaw—”
“Outlaw! Yeah, I like that one. Makes me sound tough.”
“And you’re not tough?” she teases.
“Not as tough as you, by the looks of it. You threw a grown man out on his ass. Pretty fucking badass, if you ask me.”
She grabs a rag from her back hip to wipe down the bar top. “Have to be. Part of the job.”
I lean in. “I don’t know. A fierceness like that comes from within. Was it something you were born with, or has it grown with the hand life dealt you?”
Her facade cracks slightly, and she swallows hard, showing a slight weakness at what I’ve said.
So, there’s a story there.
It’s not my place to push, but I at least want to know this badass chick’s name. “Dash,” I say, thrusting my hand over to her. “Nice to meet you.”
She takes my hand in hers, and warmth lights up her face like a bright summer’s day. A dimple in her left cheek dips in as she beams at me in the most sexy fucking way, making everything in this dull, dreary place seem a little bit more cheerful. “Nice to meet you too, Dash.”
I snort out a laugh. “Not going to tell me your name?” Quickly, I scan her top for a name badge, my eyes landing where they probably shouldn’t, considering how she handled her last troublemaker.
“I’m not sure you deserve to know, especially when you’re looking at my tits like that.”
I nod and clear my throat. “Okay… fair call. I see how this is going down. Well, I’ll just have to call you something else in the meantime.”
She folds her arms over her chest. “Oh, this should be good.”
“How ’bout… bar-lerina?” She turns up her lip. “Or thirst-trap?” Her evil glare on me intensifies. “Bar wench—”
“Call me a wench again, and you’ll find yourself by the trash with the likes of Handsy Harry.”
I chuckle. “Okay, okay… how about… Badass?”
She lifts her chin and looks upward like she’s thinking intensely, then a slow smile crosses her face, making her even more gorgeous than she already is. “Yeah, all right. I can live with Badass.”
Taking another sip of my drink, I give her a wink. “Then Badass you shall be.”
A loud crashing sound comes from outside. We all turn, looking through the large glass windows to see Harry falling against the trash cans again.
“Jesus Christ.” Badass mumbles something under her breath, then storms out from behind the bar for the door. I take off after her as she rushes for the exit.
She reaches Harry and lands her long boot into his stomach. He falls onto the pavement with a thud and rolls, groaning. “Get the hell out of here, ya bum, and don’t come back!”
I stand to the side, letting her take care of business. She didn’t get that nickname for no reason. Folding my arms over my chest, I watch as she picks him up by his collar and drags him while he stumbles like a drunken fool over to the other side of the road. She plants him on a bench, then pulls out her cell as Harry flops down, completely out of it.
“You need a hand?” I call out.
She glares at me, and no shit, that look could take a grown man to his knees. I raise my hands in surrender while she talks to someone on the other end of the line, her hand waving in the air dramatically as she talks. Within seconds, she ends the call and storms back over to me, grabs my shirt, and pulls me back inside.
What the fuck?
Her dominance is overwhelming, but for some reason, I follow her lead.
“Cops are coming. So, if you need to, there’s an office out back you can hide out in while they pick up Harry.”
“Naaaw, you care about me!”
She shoves me down on a stool with a huff and shoves my drink toward me. “Shut up, dick, or I’ll retract the offer.”
Honestly, I can’t help the laughter escaping me as she rounds the bar, moving back into her usual position.
“You know, I came here wanting to forget,” I call out to her. “You’ve helped me immensely with that task. Thanks, Badass. You can’t fathom how helpful this little trip to hell has been for me.”
“That’s what a bar wench is for, remember?”
“I thought we weren’t calling you a wench?”
“Oh, I can. You can’t.”
I let out a snort. It’s good to be talking to someone who isn’t so fucking serious all the time. Shit at the club is reaching a critical level, and to be honest, it’s fucking great not to have to deal with that crap for a beat.
“So, what’s got you running?” she asks.
And just like that, my chaos is slammed right back in my face.
“Who says I’m running?”
“Guy rides up to a dive like this with no reason to enter but drink… he’s running from his life.”
“You trying to psychoanalyze me?”
She chuckles while wiping down a glass. “Hell no. Just calling a spade a spade.”
With a huff, I swallow the rest of the Godfather she poured me, the alcohol burning on the way down. The buzz hits me soon after.
Damn, this woman makes a mean drink.
She hums under her breath. “It’s a girl, isn’t it?”
I grumble and slide the glass back across the bar. “I liked it better when I was mocking you. Can we get back to that?”
“She dump you?” she asks, grabbing a beer, pulling off the cap, and sliding it my way.
Taking the bottle, I exhale as I think about Ivy. With a subtle shake of my head, I huff. “Worse… she friend zoned me and is flaunting her damn relationship with my VP under my nose.”
She grimaces, flinching back like the bite stung her too. “Ouch! Geez, man, I’m sorry…” She sighs as she throws her rag over her shoulder. “But seriously, if she is flaunting her shit in front of you, you might want to reconsider this friend zone thing. Trust me. Being her friend while watching the woman you have a hard-on for be with a guy you know…” She scoffs out a laugh. “That’s asking for trouble.”
“You’re telling me.” My lips press into a thin line.
“I am telling you. Whatever situation you’re in, man, get the fuck out because it’s not going to end well. For you, I mean.”
A sinking feeling churns in my gut. She’s right. I should tell Nycto, my president, I’m done. Hand in my cut and leave.
But it’s not as simple as that.
I need to think about my brother, and my mom and sisters. Dad was killed by someone or something bigger than I’ve been able to put my finger on, so I need to be able to protect the rest of my family from the same shit. I can only do that with backing. The type I won’t have if I quit the club now. I spent too many years away from my family when I was young and stupid. I’m back with them now and must protect them at all costs.
Badass reaches out and rests her hand on my forearm. Warmth spreads through my body. A sense of connection, of strength, floods through me, and my eyes meet her icy-blues as they linger on mine. “You love her…” she says. A statement, not a question.
My brow furrows.
Do I love Ivy? Did I love Ivy?
How can I love someone who chose someone else?
Shaking my head, I exhale. “Nope…” Well, I don’t think so. “I’ve never loved a woman, and you should know, right? When you love someone?”
“Yeah… you’ll know.”
For some reason, I find it comforting, understanding that I’m not completely undone when it comes to Ivy.
I adore her, yes.
Am infatuated, one hundred percent.
But love? I honestly don’t know.
Which is probably all the confirmation I need to tell me I don’t.
Maybe that should be enough for me. Maybe it will be the catalyst for me to get over this, whatever this is. Because living my life feeling the way I do—it’s not living.
I glance back up at Badass and smirk. “You know, for a bar wench, you really are a good shrink.”
She flicks out her rag, slapping me across the face with the wet cloth. I burst into a fit of laughter as she walks off to the other side to serve a customer with a great big smile on her face.
Putting the beer to my lips, I take a sip as the police pull up across the road, ready to pick up Harry. I snicker to myself as they fumble about, trying to get the inebriated old fool into the back seat. Then I spin around, preparing myself for a long night with my new favorite bar wench at The Drunken Lime. “Hey, Badass, you serve food here?” I call out.
She peers over her shoulder. “The best burgers and onion rings this side of Miami.”
“Then, baby, hit me up. I’m in for the long haul.”
She nods. “I knew tonight was gonna be interesting. Don’t you worry, Dash, I’ll keep you entertained. The night is young, and I’ve only just started getting to know you,” she calls out, before heading back through the swinging doors where I assume the kitchen is located.
With a chuckle, I sit back and drink my beer.
This is exactly what I need. A night away from the club to unwind and forget every-fucking-thing Ivy.
Thank fuck for this little badass serving here tonight, because I might have just made myself a new friend.
