Silver and Chrome: A Bad Boy MC Romance (28 page)

I
just stare at my VP as the pieces start to fall into place, still stunned at
this turn of events. Snake laughs at the face I’m pulling, but there is no
malice in his chortle. I’ve had him pegged wrong this whole time.

“Right,
so anyway, when I realized Ripper didn’t have the full story, I decided to get
it for myself. But first, I rounded up the troops for some backup. We’ve been
watching this place for a couple days, trying to figure out the best time to
make a move. Luckily, Eddie here let everyone go early a few hours ago, with
only a few security guards left downstairs for us to worry about. Guess he was
trying to empty the place for a romantic interlude with your ol’ lady here.”

Evelyn
makes a gagging noise at the thought of this, and Snake laughs again. The
muscle in Edward’s jaw twitches, a tic I’ve never seen in him before. He must
be furious.

Snake
adds, “As it turns out, I guess we made the right call. I mean, once me and the
boys got the full story from moneybags over here, I knew you had your back
against the wall, which I also knew meant you’d come out swingin’, and ain’t no
way I was gonna let one of our own end up in jail—especially not our goddamn
president.”

I
can feel Evelyn’s glare boring a hole through my brain. I cast her a sideways
glance to see her scrutinizing me. I try to keep my face a slate, but I can
tell she’s finally realized what I was planning. Thanks to Snake’s big goddamn
mouth.

But
how the hell can I be mad at the guy who came all this way to have my back, and
who just might have killed two birds with one stone for me?

“I
still don’t totally get it,” I admit, handing Snake my glass so he can pour me
another drink. “What’s with the silent treatment from Edward, here? What did
you all do to him?”

Snake
sobers somewhat. “You sure you wanna know?” His gaze flicks to Evelyn. “Might
be best to spare you the details. Plausible deniability, and all that, yeah?”

“At
least tell us how it ended,” Evelyn pipes up. She’s just as stunned as I am,
but there’s that fire in her eyes, a spark of curiosity that makes them almost
glow. When she looks at Edward’s wan face, her lip curls in disgust. I can tell
she’s aching for vengeance. “I want to know if we’re going to have to see this
bastard again any time soon, and if so, what we’re up against.”

Snake
smiles and hands me my second drink. “Oh, I doubt that very much, darlin’. I
don’t think you’ll have to worry about seeing old Eddie here
ever
again.
Y’see, he’s changed his mind about those plans of his. He’s moved on to bigger
and better things—or at least, he’s on a path that’ll keep him clear of
anything you two might wanna embark on, now or in the future.” He winks. “To
say anything more would be telling more than you two might wanna know, but rest
assured, nothing about what we did here tonight was illegal. Not yet, anyway.”
Here, Snake casts a glance at Edward, who acknowledges him with a flick of his
beady eyes. “And we won’t, as long as Eddie keeps up his end of the bargain,
which means he stays far the fuck away from both our little MC, and Bash’s
company.”

Snake
chuckles as I shift uncomfortably. “Yes, Bash, we all know what you’re up to
now. Goddamn, an MC president
and
a CEO? When do you sleep, boy?
Especially with a woman the likes of Eve.” He shoots an appreciative nod her
way.

“Look,
Snake,” I begin, but he cuts me off before I can get any further.

“You
think too much, you know that, Bash?” he says. “And you worry too damn much,
too. I get why you’ve been so secretive. It all makes sense now—or at least, it
does to me. You thought we weren’t going to accept you, the real you, on
account of how you pursued a legit lifestyle in your off hours—but you still
wanted to help us out. That’s the reason for all these new businesses and shit.
Trying to keep us out of trouble, while still letting us feel like free men who
get to crack skulls and get into mischief every once in a while. I totally get
it. But you know what? Cat’s out of the bag now, and nobody else gives one
flying fuck, either—at least, not the ones who matter. Well, ‘cept me and the
boys are kind of wonderin’ if this means we can get new bikes, but otherwise…”

I
sit back in my chair, taking it all in. Never, in any of my projected
scenarios, did
this one
cross my mind as a possibility, let alone a
likely one. Snake, who I’d assumed was a traitor, and what sounded like most of
the MC, from the tale he told, had had my back when I’d needed them most. The
family I’d thought I lost had swooped in to save the day, not only for me, but
for Evelyn too. That was crazy enough, but then on top of that, they’d accepted
me—both parts of me—like it had never mattered at all.

The
room blurs a bit at the edges. This is all so surreal.

“This
is over?” I say, first to Snake, and then to Edward. “This is really, actually
over? No more bullshit—no more games—you’re going to put a stop to the
shit-storm you put in motion, just like that?”

Edward
fails to answer me for a long time. For a while, he can’t even meet my gaze.
When he does, there’s nothing but hatred in those cold, seething eyes of his.
He clears his throat and adjusts his tie, his Adam’s apple bobbing erratically.

“Just
like that,” he says, unfolding his hands. Beneath them is a small stack of
papers. “I was just in the process of signing the papers before you got here.”

“Son
of a bitch,” I mutter. “Finally.”

Edward
doesn’t reply. Snake is looking at him, hard, and though he doesn’t bother to
acknowledge my VP, I can tell he feels his stare.

Beside
me, I hear Evelyn’s soft, lilting laugh, and when I look over, she’s
practically radiant. All the tension she’d been holding inside her over the
last few days is gone, and there’s a shine to her eyes I haven’t seen before. I
think this is what she looks like when she’s really, truly free. And it’s so
goddamn beautiful I can’t take my eyes off it.

“I
knew it,” she says. There’s such vibrancy in her tone I can almost see it. “I
knew one day, I’d get to see you like this—defeated. Ruined. Well, maybe I
didn’t know, exactly. But I hoped.” She shakes her head at him. All that anger
in her has morphed into something softer. Something more like pity. “You
bastard. You only have yourself to blame.”

Yeah,
I think, though I don’t say it out loud,
I bet he’ll go home tonight and
wipe those tears of his with hundred dollar bills.

But
there is some truth to Evelyn’s words. I can see it in Edward’s face. Cracks
have formed in his armor and in that cold, calculating mask. Beneath it, there
is a whisper of regret—probably not because of what he’s done to us, but
because he hasn’t won. We’ve taken something precious from him today and struck
a real blow. His winning streak is over, and I wonder, had Edward ever lost
before? To anyone? Is this the first time in all his life he’s experienced what
it means to fail?

“Be
a good boy, Eddie, finish signing those papers and then slide them to my friend
Bash, here, and his lovely lady,” Snake says, making sure to emphasize the word
his.
Edward flinches visibly, but then does as he’s told. By the time
this is all over, this guy might be downright suicidal.

When
he’s done, I take the documents in my hands, and to Snake, I utter a soft,
“Thank you.” My VP shrugs.

“Don’t
mention it,” he answers. “Except maybe in the context of those new bikes…”

Evelyn
smiles. She turns to me and says, “I told you, didn’t I?”

I
raise a brow at her. “Told me what? That Snake here was going to swoop in and
save the day, and Edward was going to roll over like a mangy dog and hand us
everything we wanted, just like that? Because if so, I’m pretty sure I would’ve
remembered…”

She
grins. “No. But I did tell you that you might have misjudged what their
reaction would be to hearing their president also deals in high-grade
motorcycle parts.”

I
can’t help it. I smile. And though it doesn’t come naturally, I manage to
reply, “Yes, baby. You were right.”

I’m
betting it’s not the last time I say those words.

EPILOGUE

Evelyn

“Miss Silver, what do you
have to say about the reports coming in that Piston, Incorporated is actually
run by the leader of an outlaw motorcycle gang?”

I
can’t help but smile at that question. It’s one I’ve heard, but never answered,
well over a dozen times over the past few weeks, and every single time someone
asks it, this little glow starts inside me all anew.

I
could tell them the long version of the story, but no one wants to hear
that—all the details of Sebastian Redding’s dual lives before he was found out,
and the single, even more shocking life he’s managed to lead after. But the
press are vultures at heart, and they want the easy prey. They like their meat
raw and bloody, and telling them the whole truth might’ve been offering them
more than they could chew.

The
whole truth was that after Snake and the rest of Bash’s MC had told us what
they’d done, Sebastian underwent a complete transformation. The twin personae
he’d had to keep up for all these years suddenly merged into the single person
he was always meant to be, and Sebastian was able to finally let his guard
down. His dreams and goals weren’t mutually exclusive anymore, and he had the
freedom to do what he pleased, when he pleased—the media frenzy not
withstanding, of course.

Once
word got out that Hans was not the true CEO of Piston, and that the actual,
formerly secret, CEO was also the president of a motorcycle club, all the
networks went nuts. I’m pretty sure that at some point, I even overheard Ben
Stein waxing poetic about the turn of events on CNN, but maybe that was just my
imagination. Still, everyone seemed to be talking about it, and for a while, I
thought this would turn out to be Sebastian’s worst nightmare.

But
Sebastian surprised me, and everyone else, by refusing to even acknowledge that
anything had changed. Sure, he was relishing the opportunity he had to conduct
his business out in the open now, but otherwise, he acted like it was just
another Tuesday where he balanced his work at Piston with his work at the clubhouse,
fulfilling both roles as if the cameras weren’t even rolling.

For
me, though, it was pure chaos. Maybe Sebastian had come into his own, finally,
but I was still new to this whole thing, and in the first few days, I was sure
I would get swept up in the endless tide of questions and demands that came
roaring my way. If they couldn’t get to Bash, the media reasoned, maybe they
could get to me. Sebastian and the club did a fine job of keeping me at arm’s
length from the more intrusive elements, but I was still feeling the pressure
of this new life I’d fallen into.

I’ll
never forget the look on Sebastian’s face that day I rushed into his office,
slamming the door behind me and leaning against it, hoping to keep the rabble
out. I was panting so hard I was sure I’d bust a button on my blouse, but he
just looked up at me from his desk and said, “We’re in this together. All
right?” Then his gaze drifted out toward the skyline, though this time, the
view made him smile. “We’ll weather the storm.”

“I
love you,” I’d said, a breathy reply to the confession he’d made days ago
during the would-be assault on Edward Stonewall’s office. I almost thought he
wouldn’t reply, that adrenaline had made Sebastian Redding bold at the time,
and that now his feelings had waned. But he stood up, came around beside me,
and tucked me under his arm as he said:

“I
love you, too.”

And
then we just looked out over the horizon together, the city a tiny labyrinth
stretching out below us, and I knew in that moment we were going to be all
right. That we were, in all truth of the matter, surveying our kingdom. We’d
defeated some of the biggest obstacles in our way; what was a few more added to
the list?

That
sensation of comfort and safety followed me through the following days, where somehow,
everything just seemed to fall into place.

Sebastian’s
MC went fully legit—or at least, as much as an MC could. Snake never did let on
exactly what had happened to Ripper, or those who had sided with him—or if he’d
told Sebastian, he’d certainly never told me. But with Ripper gone and all
other dissenters quashed, the MC was able to move on into a golden age. Like
we’d joked back in Edward’s office, everyone ended up with shiny new bikes,
which helped silence anyone else who had questions about what the hell an MC
was doing running actual businesses and devoting their weekends to charity work
on the side. Piston, Inc. and the MC ended up being a lot alike, and with the
barrier between them smashed for good, Sebastian turned out to be a brilliant leader
of both.

In
fact, with one side of the equation balanced, the other side just kind of fell
into place. With Edward gone, the deal we’d all thought ruined picked up steam
again. As it turns out, Edward had used his influence to force Velocity to
renege on their end of the bargain, and in his absence, the original terms were
looking good again. Not only that, but Sebastian discovered that Hans had
actually slowed things down when he went to Germany to sort out the stolen
parts fiasco, and now that a competent leader was at the helm, all the pieces
were finally coming together. Piston ended the quarter on a high note, coming
back from certain doom, and this coming quarter looks even better.

I
should know, because I’m not just Sebastian Redding’s EA anymore. I’m now the
VP of Operations, which I thought would be incredibly overwhelming, given how
much has happened to me recently, but somehow it just feels… right. As right as
being at Sebastian’s side, seeing this through. Our relationship is steady,
Piston is secure, and on the weekends, I’ve learned to unwind with his MC—and
Jackie, too. Especially now that I was able to talk to her about everything.
She’s loving the attention she’s getting from all of the leather bound hunks at
Axle’s.

Turns
out I’m capable of far more than I imagined. Sebastian and I really do make a
good pair, after all.

I’m
still contemplating this when the reporter repeats his question. It’s the
first, actual press conference we’ve had to address the situation, and it
wouldn’t have happened at all if I hadn’t insisted. Sebastian’s advice was to
“let them fuck themselves,” but as Snake and I knew, sometimes the VP had to
take the reins and have the president’s back, regardless of how daunting the
situation might be.

“Miss
Silver,” the reporter says, brow furrowed into an impatient ravine, “your
comment, please?”

Nah,
they don’t want the whole story. And honestly? Who would believe me, anyway? So
as the crowd quiets, I smile and say, “Come on now, Mr. Bradley. I think we all
have a little outlaw in us, wouldn’t you say?”

The
uproar that follows is deafening and I sigh, still unable to shake the smile
from my face. Just another blissful day in the life of dealing with the
aftermath of a crazy, rogue club president, CEO, and love of my life.