Vipers Rule Read online

  He guessed the violence brought her back to what had happened to her at her old MC. He’d never asked for the full story, but from the bits and pieces he’d gleaned, her old man had been killed in front of her. And she’d been kicked out, with a bounty on her head. Preacher—and Vipers by default—had been protecting her for years. “Let’s get to work.”

  He walked toward the mat but stopped when she asked, “Who’s Lila Rose?”

  When he turned, she said, “They say you always have them use that code name, to make sure it’s safe.”

  He nodded. “Lila Rose was my mom.”

  Holly swallowed and then followed him over to the mats.

  Chapter 8

  The turnoff to Tals’s place included a very long and winding private road that eventually would put Maddie’s in front of his house. But it reminded her of the tension she’d always felt in her gut every time she’d waited outside the gates of her grandmother’s house for him. How they’d gotten that far in under a year’s time always amazed her . . .

  * * *

  She’d continued running into him almost daily. Half the time, she’d learned that Tals simply came to the school grounds to hang out in their spot without ever going to class.

  She’d ended up eating her lunch there with him, spending any other free time she had there too. She’d told her friends that she was going to the library, and since none of them spent much time there, she didn’t have to worry they’d catch her in a lie.

  Then again, she didn’t really care if they did. Because the Tals who flirted—and screwed—her friends wasn’t the Tals she knew. That made her happy . . . but it also upset her, and she’d finally figured out why . . . or finally admitted it to herself, anyway.

  Because why not her? Granted, he wasn’t friends with any of the girls he slept with, and she’d watched them try to circle around him only to realize he wasn’t after any kind of repeat performance. She couldn’t blame him for sleeping with them, because she’d seen the way they threw themselves at him. And every day she tried to gain the courage to ask him about it.

  And every day she failed miserably, but didn’t care, because she was seeing him daily.

  She’d never been with anybody she could simply “be” with. There was a comfort there, an ease that called to her. But still, she didn’t share much about her family, and although he talked about Vipers a bit, she didn’t know much about that part of his life either. But she knew about him, and that was what mattered.

  At the start of their senior year, Tals didn’t show up at their spot for a full week. He hadn’t ever been gone that long, even during summertime, when they’d had an unspoken agreement to still spend the hot days lying in the shade, each of them doing their own thing but still getting closer.

  All she could do was show up daily . . . and go home disappointed and worried. But a week later, he was back. She’d held her breath walking to the shaded spot far enough from the rest of the school grounds to be private, and found him there.

  He gave her a nod, like no time had passed, like nothing was wrong.

  She noted the bandage on his arm immediately, because he’d stripped his leather jacket off and wore a short-sleeved T-shirt.

  He seemed . . . annoyed. Although that wasn’t exactly right. Surprised, maybe? Or caught, even when he said, “This isn’t your usual time.”

  Talk about caught . . . “You’ve, ah . . . been gone a while. And I saw you this morning, so I . . .”

  “Cut class?”

  “Yes.”

  “First time?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you’re officially a delinquent now?”

  “Guess so.” She sat, her back against the usual tree. She wanted things back to normal between them. But that was becoming harder. There was tension between them, and she didn’t know if it had been growing and she’d simply just noticed it, or if it had suddenly sprung up, but it sat between them like a shot of electricity that couldn’t be ignored.

  It covered her in waves.

  “You had a birthday,” he said finally, breaking the silence.

  “Yep.” She stared at him. “Are you okay?”

  “Been better.”

  “You got hurt.”

  He looked at the bandage on his arm and hesitated a second too long before telling her, “I cut myself working on my bike.”

  She accepted the lie with a small nod. “I’ve never been on a motorcycle.”

  He seemed grateful for the change in subject, asked carefully, “Do you want to?”

  Her heart beat faster when she tried to say, “Sure,” as casually as possible.

  “I’ll pick you up outside your house—outside those gates—at eleven tonight.”

  He was gone before she got the chance to ask how he knew her house had gates.

  Then again, every house in Jessamine had them. It was its own community, but it didn’t have any kind of gate or guard, which was why, right after the new naming, her grandfather had gated in his house. Many of the neighbors followed suit, and now it was customary to hide behind walls.

  Which, of course, made it easy for guys like Tals to ride through the wide streets unnoticed. And after she’d chickened out the first night, she’d gathered up her courage and snuck out the very next night.

  Tals was early. Waiting for her. She fell in silently next to him as he walked the heavy bike down the block, until they were far enough away from her house. He handed her a helmet in the darkness, which was only slightly illuminated by a lamppost, helped her fasten it securely under her chin. And then he got on the bike and looked back at her.

  “Climb on, Maddie.”

  After a second’s hesitation, she did, feeling clumsy. But once she straddled the seat and realized how close she was to him, all of that faded.

  “You have to hang on to me, okay?” he told her. “Wrap your arms around my waist—sit close. Don’t let go. I lean in to the curves—you just follow my lead.”

  Her heart pounded when she pressed her chest to his back and she swore she heard a rumble come from him, but maybe it was just the bike vibrating beneath her.

  One minute they were still, and the next they were flying down the road with a roar. She was terrified for a moment, but the ultimate freedom made it impossible not to love the ride.

  He didn’t keep her out long that first night, maybe half an hour. She was disappointed, but they went again several nights later. And again and again, until they were riding for the better part of the night, meeting in their spot on the grass the next day to catch up on their lack of sleep.

  And even though they weren’t doing anything—because he seemed to want to keep things on the friend level—it was impossible to ignore the rising sexual tension.

  That didn’t stop them from denying it. At least she was. He was apparently just moving slowly. Circling her so as not to scare her.

  He’d always known how to handle her, and honestly, that had probably scared her the most.

  * * *

  Maddie had pulled over on the long private road to his house. As dusk fell around him, Tals waited on the porch, thinking about all the times they’d both waited for each other—him on his bike and Maddie sitting on the stones outside her family’s house, then walking the bike with him a safe distance from the house before they got on and rode the night away.

  So fucking innocent. He’d seen how good that was with such clarity; at times it was painful. Especially that first night, with his heart nearly pouncing out of his chest. Because she’d chickened out the night before and then apologized. He’d wondered if she’d be there, or if he’d find the police, but this time Maddie was there.

  He drove through some of the winding back roads of Skulls and beyond, feeling her clutch him tightly.

  When he pulled over, she was flushed . . . and smiling. “That was amazing.”

  “Yeah, always is.” He paused. “Why’d you really not meet me last night?”

  “I told you—I got nervous. I don’t do thing
s like that—I don’t sneak out.” Her demeanor changed a little, and she shifted from leg to leg. “You kept busy, though.”

  Ah fuck. Busted. “Yeah, well, all dressed up and nowhere to go.”

  She frowned. “You don’t even like the Jessamine girls.”

  He tilted his head. “Did you suddenly move and not tell me?”

  “You know what I mean. Why try so hard? Why fake it so much?” she asked, although not unkindly.

  He’d suddenly felt completely fucking naked in front of her. Was he that transparent to her, and how did that happen? He turned away from her and walked a few feet until he got to a clearing, where he could look up and see the moon.

  She followed.

  It’d been getting near spring of their senior year, and seeing Maddie was now a habit, the best part of his day. He was cutting class more and more, but that didn’t stop him from hanging out on campus.

  “Shit at home,” he muttered to her finally. “Gotta fake everything—it’s easier that way. What people expect of me, I’ll give them.”

  “I fake things too,” she whispered softly, but he already knew that. “I have problems at home too.”

  He turned to her. “Want to talk about it?”

  Because it was easier to talk about her home issues. His were . . . impossible. Things he’d take to his grave without telling a soul outside of Tenn and his Vipers family.

  “My dad and my grandmother . . . they’re pretty tough on me. I’m supposed to be extra responsible. Not flighty, like my mom, because my mom couldn’t handle a husband or a child—and that’s why she left.”

  Tals saw the pain etched in her face. “You never knew her, then.”

  “I remember bits and pieces, but I was little when she left me with Grams.”

  “And your dad.”

  “He’s barely home, Tals. It was like once Mom left, he did too, although in a different way. I know Mom wasn’t rich . . . or cultured, like my dad. She was a real free spirit.” She smiled then. “I have some pictures. I look a lot like her. Maybe that’s why Grams and Dad were always lecturing me, so worried I’d turn out like her.”

  “She doesn’t sound so bad,” he told her.

  “Except for the part that she didn’t come back to see me.”

  “People have reasons, Maddie. There are things you might not understand now . . .” Fuck. He didn’t want to do this. He tried to turn away, knew he shouldn’t have come back after only a week to see her. Knew his emotions were way too fresh to hide.

  Or maybe he’d done this on purpose, so she’d force his hand, which she began to do.

  “Please, Tals . . . tell me. I know something’s wrong. You were gone and now . . .” She stared up at him, and Christ, where did he even start? The fact that he’d been pretty much born into Vipers? Did he mention that his mom was an escort and starred in porn films and that Tenn had started dipping his toes in those waters, convinced it was a good way to make a living for a guy?

  Tals wanted a relationship that wasn’t about performing. He did enough of that, in bed and in real life, every time he went out and pretended he was an easygoing guy.

  Because he wasn’t. Which meant he had to pretend even harder to keep up the facade.

  It was always the quiet ones, the ones who seemed the happiest, who carried the most pain. It was how he’d recognized Maddie. And the hours with her were the only times he wasn’t pretending.

  Of course he wanted to kiss her, roll her in the grass, taste her soft, warm skin with his tongue . . . strip her down . . .

  But that would prove to her that he was just as he seemed—out to sleep with all the Jessamine girls. And having an innocent relationship with Maddie made him feel like he was worth something.

  “It’s easier to pretend to be happy,” Tals murmured against her hair. She sniffed and nodded, and then pulled back. “I wish, sometimes, I could be more like Tenn.”

  “He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s not the happiest camper,” she said wryly.

  It was true—there was a smoldering behind his brother’s eyes that forced people to give him a wide berth. He wasn’t looking to make friends—although his attitude didn’t stop him from getting laid.

  But Tals got along with everyone. If he got pissed at someone, he told them he was pissed and then it was over. It’s not like he was buddies with the Jessamine guys, but they respected him enough to stay out of his way.

  “Tals, where were you?” she pressed.

  He swallowed hard. “My mom died.”

  “Oh my God—I’m so sorry.” She hugged him this time, holding him tight, and he buried his face against her neck and just let himself be. She stroked the back of his neck, a comforting gesture. It was, of course, electric between them, but they were both ignoring that. Things were getting complicated enough in their friendship . . .

  “She was killed,” he blurted out. Thought he’d regret it, but strangely, he didn’t. Enough so that he continued. “My dad killed her, Maddie. He just got out of prison a day before, and he found us. He was pissed that she took us away from our original Tallahassee chapter. He came into the house, and before Tenn and I knew what was happening . . .”

  He got dizzy then, didn’t remember much of anything for the next several moments. But she’d gotten him to sit down, and she was propping him up, telling him it was going to be okay.

  “You don’t know that,” he whispered brokenly.

  “I don’t know that it won’t be,” she offered, and okay, he could accept that.

  “You can walk away, Maddie. It’s a fucking nightmare. No one’s going to know about it—we’re nobodies, so it’s not making the papers. It’s been buried.”

  “Your dad?”

  “He’s gone,” Tals said firmly. Because hell, that was the truth. Preacher took care of everything, made it look like his mom had killed herself, and no one knew his dad had shown up in town. And the police were all too happy to wash their hands of things, especially because Tals and Tenn were seventeen and weren’t going into the state’s care. “Maddie, I’m going to take you home now. And I won’t come to our spot, won’t bother you for a while. I know this is a lot to take in.”

  She nodded, didn’t protest that it wasn’t.

  “Look, I know I have no right to ask this, but—”

  “I’d never tell anyone, Tals. Promise.” She put her hand in his and squeezed, not a handshake as much as a handhold, and she left her palm against his for a while, until he felt steady enough to drive her home.

  He’d stayed away a full week and a half. When he’d shown up, she’d been there, looking up at him expectantly.

  “I brought us some lunch,” she said softly.

  He sat down across from her, shared the food she brought . . . and they never discussed what he’d told her again.

  * * *

  Maddie swallowed hard as she thought of Tals’s face the day he’d returned after telling her about his mom. He’d looked lost. Worried.

  She’d thought about going to his house, finding him, telling him she could still be his friend, but she’d waited him out. And while they never discussed the circumstances of his mom’s death, they’d talked about her life, and his.

  After that, things definitely heated up. He managed to court her even as he held back, and the fact that it was innocent between them told her that it meant something.

  If he hadn’t told her about his mom’s career, his keeping his hands off her might’ve bothered her. Okay, it did, but she understood—their relationship was complicated enough without bringing sex into it.

  That night she’d ridden on the back of his bike. When he brought her close to home, he left his bike a block away and walked her back. When they got to her gate, he turned to her, asking fiercely, “How much longer are we going to pretend nothing’s happening here?”

  She wanted to say she had no idea what he meant, deny it, stop the inevitable. But she wasn’t that good of a liar. “I don’t know. Forever, I think. Because this can�
�t work. You and I both know that.”

  “Because you live behind a gate?”

  “It’s so much more than that, Tals. It always was.”

  “It’s pretty damned simple when you’re riding on the back of my bike, or having lunch with me, or bringing me movies and books you think I might like,” he pointed out.

  “You’re pushing me away on purpose, because you’re scared of how you feel,” she told him.

  “I didn’t want to. But you need someone different from me. You said that yourself.”

  No, I don’t, part of her wanted to cry out. Instead she nodded. “I can’t stay here, and you . . .”

  “I’m staying,” he confirmed. “Family’s here. Everything I need is here. For the moment, at least.”

  He was looking at her the entire time he spoke.

  “And the club,” she added, because she didn’t want to think about what she was throwing away. Because she was seventeen. And not a flake. And not a stupid girl who’d throw everything away because she was falling in love with a boy who could be very, very bad for her.

  “My club and my family are one and the same,” he told her quietly, and then he left her standing at the gate.

  She remained outside until she couldn’t hear the roar of his bike any longer.

  The next day she didn’t go to their spot. Instead she ate lunch with the football team and her friends.

  Two weeks later she went to the party after the football game . . . with Earl.

  * * *

  Maddie shook her head, trying to erase that name from her thoughts. She’d been so lost in thought that she’d stopped the car for several moments . . . and then waited a few more to compose herself. These trips down memory lane, coupled with being this close to Tals again, were enough to jar her badly.

  To her utter and complete shock, Tals was waiting out on his porch when she pulled up to his house. He was dressed in jeans and his leather jacket and boots, no bandanna. His blond hair was a bit shorter than she remembered, but it looked so good on him. He was the kind of rugged handsome that made women stop and stare.