Banger's Ride: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 5) (6 page)

“The problem is, as much as you didn’t have any freedom, you’ve given too much of it to Emily. She needs more supervision. With you working so much overtime, Emily can do whatever the hell she wants, and you’re not around to watch her. Some kids need more supervision and a man in the house.” Holly leaned back in her chair. “You know, if you want to diffuse the tension, maybe it’d be better for Emily to come and live with me and Darren until the end of the semester. We’re just talking five months. It’d give her a chance to miss you and Ethan, plus it’d give her more structure. You could have quality time with Ethan. It’d ease up the tensions in the house.”

Belle stood up and placed her coffee cup in the sink. It was sweet of Holly to try and help her out, but how could she let her daughter live away from her? She loved Emily so much, but it did bother her that she’d been so aggressive the previous night. Belle hoped it was an isolated incident, but Emily hadn’t apologized to her earlier in the morning when she’d left for school.

“I know this is a hard decision for you. I’m just trying to help. I’ve always gotten along fine with Emily. I’m worried about you because I’ve never seen you this tense. You’re more stressed out than you were when Harold died.”

“Things are rough right now. It isn’t all Emily. Our financial situation is always on my mind. It seems I never have enough to pay everything at the end of the month. I feel awful that I can’t take the kids on a trip, or even to a fucking movie.” Belle pulled her shoulders back. “But I know things will get better. Life has a way of turning out great when we least expect it. It’ll all be good.”

“I hope so. Just think about what I said. The offer is open any time.” Holly walked over to the back door.

“Thanks. I will. I’ve got to get to work. We’ll talk soon. Thanks for listening.”

Holly smiled and left out the back. Belle ran upstairs to change into her uniform then headed to Ruthie’s Diner.

Throughout her shift, she looked out the pass-through window, watching for Banger, but he never showed up. A knot formed in her stomach. Why hadn’t he come? Maybe she shouldn’t have rebuffed him the last time she’d seen him, but she knew his type—he was a man looking for a good time. If she didn’t have all the crap going on with Emily, she may have been interested in having some fun with Banger. But the way her life was, having fun wasn’t an option.

A gust of icy wind wove its way into the kitchen. Belle rushed over and looked out to see who’d come into the diner. When she spotted an elderly couple, her heart sank.
I’m acting like a fool. So what if he doesn’t come in? He probably has several women he’s playing. I have enough going on that I don’t need to be obsessing over a playboy biker.

She put the final touches on a three-layer chocolate raspberry fudge cake.

“Mmm… That sure looks good.” Jerome gave her a wide grin, exposing the gaps from his missing teeth.

She smiled warmly at her colleague. Jerome was the other cook for the diner. He was a sweet man around her age, although his deep wrinkles and blotchy skin made him appear much older. He was a reliable employee, and Belle loved him for that, especially when her feet ached from standing for nine or ten hours.

“Try a piece. I prepped everything for tonight,” Belle said as she grabbed her purse and coat.

“Should be a quiet night since they have a rodeo over at Rutger’s barn.”

“I didn’t know that was this week. I guess a lot of people go to it.”

“You bet. It ain’t a big one, but it’s enough to bring out a bunch of folks. You gonna go?”

“Nope. The only thing I want to do is soak my feet. Damn, they’re killing me.”

While she put on her coat, a long rumble shook the windows of the diner. Her heart leapt, and she ran to the picture window with a big smile on her face, only to quickly have it wiped away. Instead of Banger on the bike, Holly’s brother killed the engine. She turned quickly, dashing to the kitchen before slipping out the back door.

She set her tote bag and extra groceries Ruthie insisted she take in her trunk. She hated handouts, but she needed the food so she took them, grateful to Ruthie for her compassion. She closed the trunk, then jumped when she saw a man leaning against the hood of her car. Her heart sank.

“Hi, Craig. Are you looking for Holly?”

“Fuck, I told you my name is Scorpion. Craig left a long time ago.”

“I refuse to call anyone Scorpion.” She laughed lightly, but she was weary, and she wanted to go home.

He came up to her and pulled her to him. “You’ll call me Scorpion, got it?” His eyes flashed as he scanned her face.

Her stomach churned. “I was only joking,
Scorpion.
” She turned toward her car door, gently pushing him away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him staring at her with a hard look.
He’s probably trying to figure out if I’m being sincere or a smartass. I can’t stand this guy.

Scorpion spun her around, his grip tight on her arms. “Don’t ever fuckin’ forget it. You don’t wanna piss me off, do you?” He ran his finger across her cheek, his ragged nail scratching her. “You gonna give me a kiss?”

Before Belle could answer, he leaned down, his mouth inches from hers. She wriggled away, and his mouth landed on her cheek. “What are you doing at the diner? Are you looking for Holly?”

He was staring at her mouth. “No. I’m meeting her at the bank across the street. I need to get something notarized. I came over here to see you. You’re looking fuckin’ hot.” He unabashedly checked her out, leering at her from head to toe.

Belle cringed, feeling dirty when his eyes skimmed over her body. When Banger had checked her out, she’d been energized, tingly, like a teenager.
Why am I thinking of him? I need to concentrate on Craig, because he’s looking at me in a creepy way. I have to get outta here.
She twisted around, clutching the door handle, slowly opening it. “I have to get home to my kids. I’m already late.” She slid her leg into the car.

“I’m gonna be in town for a couple of days. Let’s hook up and have some fun.” He moved closer to her again.

She threw herself in the driver’s seat. “I’m working too many shifts. Maybe next time, okay?” She feigned a sweet, innocent smile.

He glared at her before shifting back on his heels, and she grabbed the handle and closed and locked the door. Scorpion’s eyes narrowed and he moved toward the front of her car, leaning against the hood, his eyes fixed on her.

Belle started the vehicle, putting it in gear. She drove forward. Scorpion jumped away. “What the fuck?” he yelled.

Smiling, she waved at him as she left the parking lot. When he disappeared from her rearview mirror, she finally breathed, her heart pounding. She couldn’t stand Holly’s creepy brother. Cursing herself for ever going out with him, she hoped it’d be a long time before she ran into him again. She’d never wanted to in the first place, but Holly kept insisting, and Belle relented just to shut her friend up. Now she regretted her decision.

When she entered the house, the comforting aroma of her barbecue pork and potato casserole greeted her, making the house smell homey and cozy. Happy that Emily remembered to put the dinner in the oven, Belle stood in the small kitchen, letting the warmth envelop her. She padded into the living room, and tenderness spread to her core when she spotted Emily, cross-legged on the sofa, and Ethan, kneeling on the floor, playing a video game together.

“Hi, Mom,” Ethan said, his eyes never leaving the TV screen.

“Hey, Mom,” Emily greeted, her own eyes unblinking as her fingers moved over the game controller.

“Hey, you two. Thanks for putting the casserole in the oven.”

“Sure, Mom.”

Belle smiled, her heart bursting. She went upstairs to change, happy the evening would be spent with the daughter she used to know before Harold died and everything turned to shit.

After a pleasant dinner filled with lively conversation and laughter, Belle stretched out on the couch, a glass of white wine on the coffee table next to her. If she could just find a way to have more nights like that evening, then she could breathe again.

She stared at the blue flame in the gas fireplace and a sense of loneliness shrouded her. She wished she had someone to talk to, to share the day’s events, to hold her and tell her it would all be okay. She hadn’t been intimate with a man for over a year and a half. The last six months before Harold died, he’d told her he was too sick or too tired each time she’d tried to initiate lovemaking, and she’d believed him, like a fool. Then she’d found out that he’d been banging his secretary, and she’d seen red. Knowing that he’d ignored his wife and lavished his attention and love on someone else had gnawed at her. As she recalled the shock, the anger, and the hurt his betrayal had caused her, bitterness rose in her throat.
How could he have done that to me? I never looked at another man during our marriage.

Emily’s biological father had turned out to be a loser, and Harold had too. She was so done with men. It was less painful to fantasize and touch herself than trust a man. Her fantasies always consisted of a tall, handsome man with dark eyes, but lately, the dark eyes had turned to smiling blue ones with small crinkles at the corners. She shook her head and picked up the remote, turning on the TV. She definitely didn’t want to go
there
. Aimlessly, she stared at the flickering screen until she fell asleep on the couch.

“B
elle’s working the
swing shift,” Ruthie said as she set a large slice of apple pie in front of Banger.

“Did I ask?”

“No, but you wanna. I’ve seen more of you in the last couple of weeks than I have all year.” Ruthie stood with her hands on her hips, grinning at Banger. “Belle’s a nice woman.”

“Didn’t ask that either.”

“You’re a hard man,” she said, winking.

“Won’t argue with you on that. Pie’s good.”

“Belle made it last night before heading out. Since she’s been here, business is back on track. I couldn’t wait to get rid of Jimbo. He was a lazy ass who liked his booze too much. He ran so many of my customers off. And the ones I tried after I canned him made Jimbo look like a gourmet chef. I lucked out when Belle answered my ad.”

A blast of icy air swooshed inside as a group of four entered the diner.

“I gotta get this,” Ruthie said, nodding toward the group. She shuffled away.

Banger took a sip of his steaming coffee and savored the fresh-roasted taste. A good cup of coffee with a tasty piece of apple pie was a slice of heaven, especially on a frosty morning. He glanced up at the clock, whose two hands were a fork and spoon, noting that it was only nine thirty in the morning. Belle’s shift didn’t start for another four-and-a-half hours. He’d do some business at the club, drop in on Hawk’s shop to see if he needed any help, then see how the day went.

He wanted to see Belle again and make her eyes sparkle. The sound of her laughter echoed in his brain. This woman tugged at him; it was like she was a magnet pulling him to her. It was a bit unnerving, but a level of comfort also surrounded the feeling.

After draining his coffee, he rose to his feet and placed his money on the table. As he headed out, he waved to Ruthie. “See ya.”

“Tonight’s special is pot roast,” she said as he opened the door.

“Not sure I’ll be back.”

“You’ll be back.”

He could hear the smile in her voice. He didn’t answer because she was right—he’d be back, and he couldn’t wait to see the dark-haired Belle.

*     *     *

Belle rushed around,
finishing up the laundry then putting the final touches to the casserole she’d made for her children’s dinner. She hated working the swing shift because she missed dinnertime with her kids. When she was growing up, it had been the most important part of the day. It was when her family all came together and talked about their day, shared funny stories and laughter. When she’d been married to Harold, she’d made it a point that they all sat down to dinner as a family. No phones, no TV, only family time, talking to each other. The two years before Harold had died, he’d started missing dinners, using new mergers and work as an excuse. He’d done it several times a month, but she hadn’t been suspicious; she’d known he was trying to expand the company, and he totally used that to his advantage. How naïve she had been.

The phone rang and she jumped, cursing it for its intrusion on her reveries. As a screeching tune played, she wondered why she’d let Emily change her ringtone. She answered the phone.

“Is Mrs. Dermot there?”

“This is she.”

“Hello, this is Mr. Campbell, the principal at Pinewood Springs High.”

Belle’s stomach twisted.

“I’d like to meet with you this afternoon, if possible.”

“Can I ask why?”

“It’s about your daughter and her many absences from school. I think it’s better if we meet rather than do this on the phone.”

Belle turned white as her hand grasped her neck.
Emily is skipping school? What the hell is she doing when she’s supposed to be in school?
Why can’t I just have one day free from all bullshit?