Blood of Cupids (9 page)

I slept really well the past few nights. I’d organized our
club into groups, each tasked with riding into a different ally territory,
explaining our upcoming situation, and asking for aid. Now, all the allies
would be coming into town this evening to go over the game plan for our staged
match tomorrow. Each member had checked in with me, and we were all set to go.
I was actually pretty good at this whole leadership thing. Who knew?

A few of the ol’ ladies were making a feast for the forty or
so club members that would be joining us for dinner. I peeked in the clubhouse
kitchen to check on their status, and they assured me that everything was going
according to plan. They were laughing and telling stories about their kids, and
I smiled as I imagined Grace in there with them, exchanging stories of her own.
Would she be having as much fun? Would she smile back at me, proud of the
initiative I took?

Or did I even want her to be any part of this life? Would I
rather her be in our kitchen that we shared, just the two of us, far away from
it all?

I hated that it had been five days since I’d last heard from
her. I wanted to surprise her and show up at her place, but I was attempting to
respect her wishes. Damn, it was hard.

The cry of motorcycles knocked me out of my daydream. It was
time.

I couldn’t believe the amount of support our allies were
showing us. While we were a dangerous organization, the majority of us would
rather stay under the radar and not put our clubs in harm’s way. Still, we’re a
family, and when one of us needs help, we’ll all be there in any way we can.

Pops lifted his beer to quiet down the rally. “I want to
thank you all for coming here in our moment of need. I’m sure you all know
we’ve had some issues with
The Walking Shadows
in the past, but now
we’re just not sure what to expect. Most of you know my son, Ryan, who is the
newest Vice President of our club. Ryan?”

Everyone started clapping. It was my turn to speak. I
dreaded this more than the possibility of getting shot tomorrow.

“Hi. Hi. It’s great to see everyone, and as my Pops said, it
means the world to us to have you all here. Now, with all our clubs combined,
it comes out to fifty-three bodies. That’s about a third of what our boxing
venue holds, so we’ve also invited some regulars to fill the seats closer to
the ring. Each club will guard an entrance, and we’ll have a few guys stationed
outside. And, of course, we have some fucking serious firearms for everyone.”

They roared with laughter and applause. I’d gotten their
attention. I went over a few possible outcomes, accepting suggestions, comments,
and questions, but everyone seemed ready and excited for the next day’s
promises. Pops took the floor back from me.

“Okay, that’s enough business; let’s get to the good stuff.
Girls!”

The usual broads came parading into the clubhouse, wearing
brightly colored pin-up girl costumes and carrying pitchers of beer. Everyone
cheered and chose their conquest. Pops put his arm around me.

“Do you see what you did?” He pointed to the crowd.

“Yeah.”

“One day, you’re going to make the best president this club
has ever seen.”

“Pops, stop.”

“I’m serious. You’re smarter than we give you credit for.”

“Ha. I think I can find the compliment in there.”

I reached for a beer, needing a distraction from my Pops’
pride. I didn’t want to think about being the president.

“Oh no, match day tomorrow. No beer and no sex.”

“I’m fine.”

“And you’ll be better because I made you go to sleep. Now
get out of here.”

It was a good excuse to escape the festivities. Plus, I’d
had all of these girls before, and none of them held a candle to Grace. Two
more days, and she’d be back in my arms. Two more days, and she’d be mine once
more.

* * *

I woke up the next morning still dreaming about her perfect
skin. I hadn’t yet lost that image I swore to keep tucked away in my memory,
but I just couldn’t wait one more day. I would go and see her tonight before
the match. Hell, she asked me if I were free on Friday, so I’d make myself
free.

All day I imagined what I’d do to her when I saw her. I
imagined what she’d say. Would she be excited to see me? Would she jump up and
straddle her legs around my hips? I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands
off of her. The thought of her soothed me to sleep every night since I last
touched her.

I checked in with Pops to make sure everyone was set for the
match, and made my way out of Southwest Philly, leaving my colors at home. It
still wasn’t the right moment to tell her.

I pulled up to her street and parked my bike around the
corner. I rang the doorbell and waited. Nothing. Every inch of me begged to
sneak in and wait naked in her bed, but I knew the outcome would turn into a
screaming match, so I bit my urge and leaned against the wall.

Luckily I didn’t have to wait long. Within ten minutes, I
saw her deep red hair turn the corner. She was wearing a brown skirt, tall
boots and a buttoned up white shirt. She clung her books to her chest, and
walked with a faint smile on her face. She pushed her wind-blown hair from her
cheek. Then she saw me. Surprise lit up her face and a wide smile spread across
her lips, but after three more steps, her lips dropped. Concern flushed her
face, and she paled. Her steps quickened as she looked around, and back over
her shoulder. I met her halfway down the block.

“Grace, is everything okay?”

“Ryan, you have to get out of here.”

I was surprised that I was able to go the whole week without
seeing Ryan. Well, I was surprised and really upset about it. I know I refused
to give him my number, and told him that school was really busy, but a part of
me still expected him to find a way to see me during the week. I really wanted
to see him. I couldn’t stop thinking about our two nights together. There was
something about him that I just couldn’t let go. And I wanted to let go; I just
couldn’t.

It was Friday. It was the day that something was going to
happen at Ryan’s boxing match, and I could not warn him. What if I never saw
him again? Had I made the wrong decision? What if that was it for us? Should I
have instead asked to see him every day in between just in case they were the
last days we would have together?

I’d just gotten out of class, and I knew my father and a
handful of club members would be showing up at my place in a matter of minutes.
I rounded the corner and my hair blew across my face. I moved it behind my ear
and looked up, toward my destination. There he was. Ryan had come to see me. He
was even more exquisite than I remembered. How did he pull that off? I wanted
to run to him. I wanted to throw down my books and jump into his arms. And I
almost did.

My heart stopped. My father was on his way. I didn’t know
how close he was, but he could be here any second. What if he saw Ryan? What if
Ryan saw him? He met me halfway down the block.

“Grace, is everything okay?”

“Ryan, you have to get out of here.”

He threw his head back and ran his hands through his hair.

“Grace, I’m not an idiot. Would you stop fucking pretending
that you don’t have feelings for me?”

“I’m not. Ryan, I do. Believe me, I do. I just can’t have
you here right now.”

“Oh really?”

He knocked my books out from against my chest, slid his
hands under my arms, and lifted me above his head. Wow, he was strong. He threw
me up against the wall and guided my body down the rough bricks as I slid down
to meet him. He cradled my head in his hand and attacked my mouth with his. A
rush of warmth cascaded over me, and for a moment, I forgot who we were and why
we were standing in front of my building. I only knew the feelings I felt for
this man. I knew how my body fit with his, and I knew I liked when he refused
to listen when I told him things wouldn’t work between us. He was the only
person who had ever made me love to be wrong.

He pulled his lips away, looking into my eyes. I stole a few
more kisses, unable to let him go; knowing the second I did, I may never see
him again. How could I warn him?

“What were you saying about me needing to get out of here?”
His mouth was so close to mine that I could taste his words.

I couldn’t stop myself from kissing him in between my
breaths. “Please…give me…a few hours…then meet me…back here.”

His lips moved to my neck and my breathing became labored.
My insides tingled, and my body begged for him.

“I told you…I have a…boxing match tonight…”

I was having a hard time forming words. “Skip it.”

He yanked at my shirt, pulling two buttons free, and cupped
my breast in his hand. I was completely unaware of anyone walking by and was
imploring him to simply take me right there on the street.

“It’s my fight, baby, I can’t miss it.”

Baby. Baby. My father called me ‘Baby’. Patrick Brennan was
still coming. I needed to get Ryan out of there.

“You wouldn’t even skip it for me?” I needed to do something
drastic. I took his hand and ran it up my skirt, wanting him to feel my warmth.
He bit his lip and hummed, and I felt him grow beneath me. I was totally
playing the girl card, which in normal circumstances, I would never do, but I
didn’t want him to get hurt. I needed him to stay clear of that match.

He brought his hand up to my chin and lifted my face to his.
There was worry in his eyes. “Grace, I have to be there tonight. Believe me, if
I could get out of it, I would. But, I swear to you, I will be here tomorrow
morning. I will come for you.” He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight
to his body. I could tell by his embrace that he wasn’t completely sure what
the night had in store. I wanted to tell him that I knew what was going on,
that he could talk to me. I wanted to offer a way out.

But Ryan was part of a club. He was part of a family. I
knew, better than anyone, that you don’t leave your family. I would have to let
him go. I returned his squeeze and lowered my feet to the ground. I took his
face in my hands and kissed him, trying to hide the tears in my eyes.

“Grace, what’s wrong?”

I shook my head. If I tried to say words, the tears would
fall.

“Come here. Did I do something?”

“No. I just have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good luck tonight.”

He gave me a faint smile as I pushed inside the brownstone.
I ran up to my apartment, fighting the tears falling down my face. I closed the
door behind me and looked out the window. He was staring up at me. I wiped my
face and waved goodbye. That’s when I heard their engines.
The Walking
Shadows
were here.

It was odd to hear that many motorcycles in this part of
town, especially when my whole crew was getting ready for the fight.

Unless.

Were they early? There would be no way they would stage an
attack in broad daylight. That would be pure stupidity.

I needed to get ahead of them. I raced around the corner, hopped
on my motorcycle, and took off toward the clubhouse. Four blocks flew by, and
I’d lost the sound of the other bikes. Had they stopped? I wasn’t about to pull
over and assess the situation. I needed to get back and warn the other clubs.
This was happening tonight.

I pushed open the door of the clubhouse and was greeted by
the usual faces of our hang arounds.

“Where is everyone?” I demanded.

“They’re setting up the ring. Where’ve you been?” Said a
nameless hang around.

“Out.”

I blew past them, making my way out back.

“Ryan! There you are, Son.”

“Hey Pops. Listen, I was out riding, and…they’re here.”

“What do you mean?”

“They stopped in Old City, but there were too many to be
anything else but a club.”

He seemed flustered. “Good work. I’ll let everyone know. Are
you sure you want to fight tonight?”

“Yes.”

And I did want to fight. It would be the only thing that
would take my mind off of what was to come. We were so prepared, and yet, I
still had a terrible feeling.

I helped the guys finish setting up the ring, and ordered
them to go eat, relax, do anything other than wait for the inevitable. One of
the other club members had been prize fighting for some time, so I had asked
him to stand in as my opponent. He was happy to oblige.

“You ready to see some stars tonight, Cassidy?” He teased
me.

“It would be a nice change; I’m so used to always winning.”

The normal banter was comforting. It felt like a real match.
We patted each other on the backs and took off on our own, to warm up. If
everything went according to plan, we wouldn’t get more than a few swings in
before the commotion started. If not, we’d need to be prepared for an actual
fight, a full fifteen rounds. I’d do a few jumping jacks and push-ups, but what
I really needed was a shower.

I wasn’t expecting Grace to be wearing a skirt, and I
definitely wasn’t expecting the girl whose purity I stole only a week ago to
slide my hand up her skirt on a busy Philadelphia street in with the sun
shining on us like a spotlight. Yes, I needed a shower before I started
punching.