Page 19 of Bane's Beginning

Serena gave me a frown and asked, “Is that your ex?”

“Yeah,” I said casually, hoping they would get the message that I didn’t want to talk about it. I knew my time was running up with Marcus. For the past two years, we never spent much time apart. When we had broken up, he would do everything in his power to get me back. It wasn’t like I was missing him. I was actually surprised at how little I cared that he wasn’t there, which could be because of the six-foot-sexy biker who couldn’t keep his eyes off me.

“Can you just tell us already?” Anna squealed.

“Tell you what?”

“What it’s like fucking Bane!” Serena quickly shushed her friend beside her, and I felt like my cheeks were going to burn withembarrassment. Playfully slapping Anna in the arm, Serena said, “You can’t just ask that, Anna!”

I couldn’t help but laugh at both of them. “It was,” I sighed trying to come up with the right word. “Complicated.”

“Complicated?” They both said at the same time.

“Yeah, well the first time it was intense, I didn’t even know sex could be that good,” I said thinking back to the night we met at the bar.

“The first time?” They both questioned, once again, in sync.

I turned my nose up at them. “Can you both stop doing that?”

Serena laughed. “So when was the second time?”

I contemplated whether or not I should tell them, but I was also low on female friends. Actually, my friend list began and ended with Chase. “It’ll stay between us?”

They both nodded looking at me like I was going to reveal what was inside of Area 51.

“This morning,” I said as I took a sip of my drink. They both squealed, and I squinted my eyes at them, “Can you not?”

“Sorry, it’s just,” Anna trailed off. “Bane is such a good guy. Even though he acts like a macho prick and womanizer, it’s mostly all an act. He has a good heart and I haven’t ever seen him look at a girl like he looked at you the other day.”

“Really?” I questioned.

“Yes, I can tell there is a sweet girl under all of that feisty. Maybe a girl like you is what he needs. Someone who would treat him right and help him grow as a person.”

A girl like you.The words almost made me laugh. I didn’t know the last time anyone ever considered me the prize in the relationship. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t a damsel in distress, but I sure as fuck wasn’t one of those girls who got the fairytale wedding in the paper.

***

MAVERICK

The first time I got on a motorcycle I was 13 years old. My Ma didn’t like the idea of me getting on one so young, but she didn’t get what my father and I got. The wind, the freedom, the adrenaline. Nothing else compares to riding on a Harley. It’s been almost 20 years, and I still never get tired of that feeling.

Crash, Ares and I were headed to South End, a town on the opposite side of Haven Hills. It’s been a while since we paid Hector Longo a visit. Hector was a bottom feeder for the Santoro family and port worker. He didn’t have much pull, but enough to get us some information. Hector also had a gambling problem and owed the club more than $50,000 in debts. We may or may not have been purposely getting him to make bad deals so he’d be in our debt, but the jury was out on that one.

The Santoros were our allies and were our sole supplier for pushing guns across the U.S. Because we had a lot of clubs, we had a lot of power and were able to get things shipped almost anywhere in the country, but getting them here, that was on the Santoros. The Santoros was the second-largest crime family in Italy and was run by Vincenzo Santoro and his two sons Luca, who handled all of their American affairs and Matteo, who was over Italy.

It’s not like we didn’t trust the Santoros, but we had no leads and greed will make you do foolish things like dabbling in baddrugs to make a profit. That’s why we were paying Hector a visit, to cross them off of our list.

Pulling up to Hector’s house, we got off our Harleys. We walked towards Hector’s house and I knocked a few times.

“Shit,” I heard a voice say from behind the door. I gave my boys beside me a look and was about to knock again when the door swung open.

“My boys! What the fuck are y’all doing here?” A grimy-looking Hector said. He looked like he was dressed in the same worn down T-shirt and sweatpants all weekend and smelled like stale chips and beer.

Gross. “Need to talk to you about something,” I said, offering him a friendly nod.

“Sure come in,” he said as he stepped aside and ushered us through the door. His house smelt worse than he did and that was saying something. This wasn’t like Hector, yeah he was a gambler, but he always dresses like a white collar business man with flashy jewelry and a shaved face. The man in front of me looked like a fucking slob.

“What can I help you boys with?” Hector called out.