Page 2 of Beyond Reckless (Lost Kings MC 8)

  It’s okay if you’re broken. That’s how the light gets in.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Three years earlier…

  “Your honor, we’ve reached a resolution and wish to put it on the record,” Hope said, smoothing down her skirt and taking her seat.

  I still wasn’t happy about the arrangement, but I hated putting my little sister through all the legal bullshit. And even though I knew the old bitch hated me, a long, drawn-out legal battle couldn’t be good for my grandmother’s health. The judge strongly suggested we settle on our own and I got the feeling if he was forced to make the decision, it wouldn’t be in my favor. So that was how I ended up sharing joint-physical custody of my almost-seventeen-year-old sister.

  Afterward, Hope gave me a big hug. “Listen,” she said, pulling away and lowering her voice. “If she gives you any trouble picking Heidi up, allowing you to see her, or talk to her on the phone. Any interference, let me know right away.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  Hope stepped away to talk to Charlotte, the attorney assigned to represent my sister.

  The sexy-as-sin woman who wouldn’t give me the time of day unless she was grilling me about my ability to care for my sister.

  “Marcel?” My sister’s quivering voice strangled my heart. I turned and she threw herself at me, holding onto me tight. “Thank you for trying,” she whispered.

  “Hey.” I squeezed her just as hard. “It’s okay, lil’ sis. I’ll pick you up from school on Friday.”

  “Heidi,” my grandmother barked. “It’s time to go.”

  Reluctantly, Heidi pulled away, and I faced my grandmother. The woman who kicked me out of her house when I was a teenager.

  Not ready to say goodbye to Heidi yet, I made a snap decision. “Grams, why don’t we all go out to dinner?” I had plenty of reasons to hate the woman, but for my sister’s sake, maybe we could start fresh and put all the ugliness behind us.

  My sister bounced up and down. “Yeah, Grams, please?”

  “No.” My grandmother looked revolted at the suggestion. She wrapped her hand around Heidi’s arm and tugged. “It’s a school night.”

  “Grams—”

  “Let’s go, Heidi.”

  My grandmother shot one last glare at me. “You can pick her up Friday. That’s the agreement.”

  “I know, I—”

  Too late. She was off, dragging my sister with her. And there wasn’t a fuckin’ thing I could do about it.

  Hope watched them leave and shook her head. “That was nice of you to try. You did the right thing.”

  “I hate this.”

  “We can try again after her seventeenth birthday,” she hesitated, biting her lip. “This was unusual. For her age, usually the judge—”

  I snorted. “My grandmother went to high school with the judge.”

  She reared back. “What?”

  “That’s how stuff works.”

  “I wish you’d told me. We should have filed with a different judge. At least you would have had a fair shot.”

  “It wouldn’t have made a difference.” I grabbed her hand. “Thank you, Hope. I know Rock talked you into representing me.”

  “That’s not true.” She squeezed my hand. “I care about Heidi and want what’s best for her.” A second later she added, “You too.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Are you headed to the clubhouse now?”

  “Nah, I think I’ll hang here.”

  Her mouth turned down. My president’s ol’ lady knew dick about motorcycle clubs, but she’d fallen into a mothering role for the club.

  In my pocket, my phone buzzed, and I pulled it out to find a text from my best friend.

  Murphy: How’d it go? Heidi okay?

  I wasn’t even sure how to answer Blake. He’d been pissed he couldn’t be in court. But Hope and I agreed to keep my association with the club out of the courtroom as much as possible. No cut. No motorcycle, which was why I’d driven my truck to every appearance so far. No support from my club brothers. Nothing that could give my grandmother ammunition to use against me. It worked. Although my grandmother tried to claim I was a criminal at one point, the Lost Kings MC was never brought up during the case.

  Not that it did me much good.

  Maybe I should’ve acted like the criminal she accused me of being and put a bullet in her head.

  I finally tapped out an answer to Blake.

  Me: I think so.

  “Murphy?” Hope asked.

  My mouth quirked up. “Who else?”

  She chuckled. The court officer motioned us out of the room, so I walked Hope out to her car.

  After tossing her stuff in the backseat, she gently touched my arm. “Are you sure you don’t want to—”

  “I’ll be fine, Hope. Thank you for everything.”

  After she left, I tapped out a quick text to Rock to let him know Hope was on her way home. Unsure of what to do with myself next, I stared down the sidewalk. I could head back to the apartment I rented not too far from my grandmother’s to show the court I had an acceptable home for Heidi.

  I wasn’t ready to do that, and I didn’t feel like being alone. I should’ve gone up to the clubhouse, but I didn’t want the company of my brothers either.

  Walking around the town I spent my youth in felt odd. Even weirder because I wasn’t wearing my Lost Kings MC cut.

  Any of the restaurants close to the courthouse would be filled with lawyers, judges or whatever, so I avoided them.

  A few blocks down, Oscar’s Place, was more my scene. Although the sign said “Diner,” dive bar was more fitting. Complete with bad lighting and even worse live music. I didn’t bother driving, figuring the walk would clear my head.

  The heavy wooden door was sticky to the touch as I pushed it open. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the darkness and I surveyed the place for any familiar faces. Not that I wanted to see anyone. I planned to sit in the corner booth and be left alone for the night.

  I never expected to find Charlotte sitting at the bar.

  Lawyers usually hung at the other end of the road, down at Partners Pub where they kissed each others’ asses all evening long.

  What the hell was she doing?

  Oscar’s wasn’t the sort of place a woman as sexy as Charlotte should be hanging out by herself. Already a number of men in the room were eyeing her. It was only a matter of time before one made a move. And I’d be damned if I’d allow anyone to hassle her.

  At least if I were with her, no one would be stupid enough to approach her. I swear, at least some of my intentions were noble. I wasn’t thinking about how much I wanted to take her in the bathroom, shove her up against the sink, pull her skirt up over her hips and fuck her. Not too much anyway.

  I walked up behind her, watching as she tried to get Oscar’s attention. She seemed relaxed if not a bit weary.

  “Hello, Miss Clark,” I said. She jumped and turned her head a fraction.

  She stared at me for a minute, a little frown forming on her forehead. Her bottom lip trembled slightly, the first sign of vulnerability I’d ever seen her display. “Did you follow me?”

  What the fuck kind of question was that? Yeah, I tried to ask her out a few times, and she’d turned me down in a cool but professional way that I actually respected. But I wasn’t hurting for pussy. I certainly didn’t need to stalk women. If anything, they stalked me.

  “No. I’m hungry.” I gestured to the empty bar stool beside her. “You waiting for someone?”

  “No, but—”

  I leaned in closer. “You’re not representing my sister anymore,” I reminded her, blocking her favorite excuse for dodging me.

  “Yes, but technically—”

  “It’s not a date if we just ran into each other,” I said as I took the seat.

  She gives me an exasperated snort. “Fine.”

  Cute that she thought I’d take no for an answer.

  Custody disputes were dangerous business.   All legal practice involved some level of risk, but especially custody issues.

  Nothing soured you on marriage more than working with families who are falling apart. Love turning to hate was a nasty, ugly business.

  During our court case, Marcel put on a good front as the caring stable, older brother.

  I knew his type, though. A player, maybe something even more sinister. I didn’t dig into it because that wasn’t my job.

  No doubt because he also turned me on almost as much as he scared me.

  Marcel finding me at the bar—the last place anyone should have been able to find me—rattled me right down to my heels.

  The whole time I represented his sister, he made his interest in me obvious. While Heidi clearly adored and idolized her big brother, she held the rather mature opinion that her brother was a “dirty manwhore” as she lovingly put it.

  With his good looks that skirted the line between wholesome farm boy and rugged bad boy, her assessment didn’t surprise me. It dampened any interest I might have had in him though. Never mind the whole he’s-the-brother-of-a-client-it’s-totally-unethical part.

  When he focused his bright blue eyes on me that night, I knew I was in trouble.

  Reminding me that I didn’t represent Heidi anymore knocked down some of my resistance. Against my better judgment, I allowed him to join me.

  Not that he would’ve taken no for an answer.

  He slipped off his leather jacket, draping it on the chair behind him and rolled up the long sleeves of his T-shirt. I couldn’t miss his heavily inked arms. Not that I hadn’t gotten glimpses here and there over the last few months. Or heard his grandmother bitch about what a tattooed menace her grandson was.

  Everything about him taunted me with the bad choices I’d made in the past.

  He’d barely taken his seat when a woman at least a couple years younger than me intruded.

  “Hi, Marcel.”

  A slow smile spread across his face. “Hey, little Bree. How you been?” He reached over and gave her a one-armed hug. I’m embarrassed to admit the small gesture made me jealous as hell. Who was she? How did they know each other?

  As if he sensed my irritation, Marcel glanced at me. “Charlotte, this is Brianna Avery, she lived across the street from my grandmother’s. Used to babysit Heidi…after I moved out.”

  It clicked in my brain that I’d heard about her before. “Oh. Yes. Heidi said such nice things about you.”

  The girl smiled even wider. “I’m not in town for long, but I should stop by your grandmother’s and say hello.”

  They chatted for a few more seconds before Bree moved away to meet friends. Dirty manwhore or not, Marcel’s gaze didn’t linger on the girl. No, it swung right back to me.

  No, not me. My legs. Heat traveled over my skin as he swept his gaze up my body. He didn’t leer or linger on my chest like I expected. Instead he met my eyes and flashed a quick, unapologetic smile for the visual grope.

  “Sorry about the interruption.”

  “It’s okay. She seems nice. You, uh, don’t have to stay with me if—”

  “You tryin’ to get rid of me?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t lie, counselor.”

  Our drinks arrived, saving me from having to whip up some witty response.

  More and more people came into the bar, increasing the noise level. Just what I’d been looking for when I walked in. Someplace to drown out all the doubts and second-guessing I did after a particularly tiring afternoon. Even when I “won” someone still lost, and it weighed on me every time.

  Since one of my more troublesome cases involved my new dinner companion, it didn’t seem like an appropriate topic of conversation.

  Marcel used every opportunity to lean in close so we could hear each other.

  Each brush of his shoulder against mine. His warm breath on the side of my cheek. I have to admit, slowly he charmed his way under my skin.

  My gaze traveled over his body—trying not to gawk, but failing miserably. I kept returning to his arms. He was physical perfection, everywhere. But my favorite part of a well-sculpted man had always been his arms. Throw in full-sleeve tattoos, and I was a goner. He wasn’t overly jacked up, but he obviously spent some of his time at Furious Fitness lifting weights.

  It made me wonder what other treasures were hidden behind his soft blue shirt.

  We were interrupted by the owner himself coming over to take our dinner orders.

  Why was I fatally attracted to guys who are so obviously wrong for me? I didn’t need the warning from his sister to know a guy like him could and would pick up any woman he wanted. Probably thought it would be funny to nail what he assumed is a square chick like me so he could go back and brag to all his caveman buddies about boning some uptight lawyer.

  I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t care.

  We placed our orders with Oscar and after he left, Charlotte turned to me. “I’m sorry it didn’t go the way you wanted.” Her low-spoken words were almost drowned out by the music.

  A heavy sigh I didn’t expect eased out of me. “I just want my sister to be safe and happy. And do well in school.”

  “She’s a lovely girl.”

  My mouth turned up, proud of my sister. She could be mouthy when she wanted to be, but she had good reasons. Underneath it, she also happened to be sweet and sensitive. I’d never be able to make up for our shitty parents abandoning us, but I’d never stop trying either.

  All I answered Charlotte with was a simple, “Yeah.”

  “I haven’t done this for long, but this was my first case where a sibling fought for custody.”

  I guess that was her way of saying she thought I was a nice guy.

  If only she knew—I was most definitely not a nice guy.

  “I’ve been taking care of her since she was a baby.” When my mother brought Heidi home from the hospital, dumped the tiny pink bundle in my lap and told me to “deal with it.” I left the last part out though because it was depressing as hell.

  “She told me. What were you, ten?” she asked.

  Uncomfortable, I lifted my shoulder as an answer. What was I supposed to do, let an infant take care of herself?

  Charlotte seemed to accept that the topic of my shitty family history was off-limits and moved on. “Tell me, what do you do at Furious Fitness?”

  “Whatever needs to be done.”

  “That’s evasive,” she teased. I found myself liking the friendlier side of Charlotte. Still, I ignored her question. I only worked at Wrath’s gym on paper so I could show the court I had legitimate income that did not come from the MC or the strip club our MC owned. In the back of my head, I supposed Wrath needed to keep me on Furious’s payroll. At least until Heidi turned eighteen or my grandmother kicked off. Whichever came first.

  Charlotte’s hand settled over mine. Warm and soft. So small against my larger one. I barely resisted the urge to wrap my fingers around hers and brush my thumb over her smooth skin. “I heard you trying to extend the olive branch after court.”

  “Stupid idea. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Heidi yet, you know?”

  She blinked a few times, then nodded. Christ, I probably sounded like one sappy motherfucker. When it came to my sister, though, I really didn’t care what anyone thought. Not even a chick I wanted to nail.

  “You’ll see her Friday,” Charlotte said in a gentle way I could imagine must help put kids at ease when she worked with them. “I know how much your visits mean to her.”

  I couldn’t answer right away and Charlotte turned to fiddle with her napkin. “She loves you a lot.”

  I still couldn’t find any words. Maybe I wasn’t perfect, but even before our useless mother took off, I always tried to put Heidi first and do what was best for her. No one else was going to.

  “Thanks,” I finally answered.

  “A lot of kids in her shoes would ask to live with their brother so they could party or have no rules.”

  “I b

et.”

  “I think Heidi just likes being with you because you listen to her.”

  “Well, she’s a talker.”

  Charlotte snorted. “Please, it was like pulling teeth to get her to tell me anything.”

  That didn’t surprise me. Heidi held secrets well. A necessary skill when you’re exposed to an outlaw MC from the age of four.

  Marcel was not what I expected. He was easy to talk to, kind, and judging by the interest sparkling in his keen blue eyes, determined.

  His sister was almost seventeen. Unless something major happened, it was unlikely I’d represent her again. I could always claim a conflict of interest had come up if the court tried to assign her to me in the future, but that was a shitty thing to do.

  “Do you want to go somewhere a little quieter, Charlotte?” he asked after our plates were taken away. Somehow his fingers ended up tracing down my arm and goosebumps followed.

  “Where?” My voice came out as a whisper, but he read the question on my lips.

  “For a walk,” he suggested.

  Not what I expected. From court records, I knew he didn’t live far. But he didn’t invite me to come home with him.

  Yet.

  He paid both our tabs, even though I protested, then held his hand out to help me off the bar stool.

  So polite for such a rough-looking guy.

  On the outside he may have seemed rough, but he held the door open for me and helped me slip into my coat once we were on the sidewalk.

  Outside, he stopped and stared at the sky. We were downtown. Rows of buildings and trees lined the street, blocking most of the view.

  Street lamps illuminated his face so I couldn’t miss the way he tipped his head and allowed his gaze to slowly drag over my body. His expression didn’t reveal a single thought. It bothered me that I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. It bothered me more how much I wanted him to want me.

  But he held his cards well.

  “Which way?” he finally asked.

  “You tell me.” Was that the equivalent of dropping a hint that I was open to going home with him?

  He nodded as if that was the answer he expected. I didn’t have it in me to be offended, especially since I would have followed him to his apartment right that second if he’d asked.