Athena Sisterhood Read online

  “No matter who gets hurt or killed in the process?”

  “You’d have us cower in fear from these criminals? Act like we’re their property?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying. But you gotta understand the consequences.”

  “Does that mean you don’t want to join us?”

  Yeah, I really don’t, Shea thought. “I’d like to hang around the club and get to know you guys first.”

  “Women, not guys,” Debbie corrected sharply.

  “Sorry! I’d like to get to know you women. Iron Goddess has a bike night event coming up. Gonna be a lot of female bikers there. Be a great way for the Athena Sisterhood to attract new members. Maybe y’all could sponsor a booth.”

  “I’d rather sponsor you as a prospect.”

  “A prospect? And be your whipping girl for a year?”

  “Hey, I’m the president. I’ll go easy on you. I might even be persuaded to fast-track you and get you patched after only a few months.”

  “Let me get to know the other women first. See how it goes.” Shea stood up. “Right now I gotta go open the shop.”

  “Join us for drinks tonight at Gertie’s.”

  “Gertie’s? Why are y’all meeting in a dyke bar? Is the Sisterhood a lesbian club?”

  “No, but Fuego, the owner of Gertie’s, is the club’s VP. She lets us use their back room for meetings.”

  “That’s convenient.”

  “It is.” A coy grin creased Debbie’s face. “So you’ll join us for drinks?”

  Jessica’s gonna be pissed when she finds out I’m spending time around Debbie instead of taking care of Annie. But what choice’ve I got? Let Rios send me back to prison? Not a chance.

  “When should I be there?”

  “Nine.”

  “On a school night?”

  “Oh my, aren’t you the little soccer mom now.” Debbie giggled. “What’s wrong? Got a PTA meeting to go to? Or does Jessica have you wrapped around her finger?”

  “I was working until almost midnight last night. I gotta sleep sometime.”

  “The Shea Stevens I knew didn’t need much sleep. Join us! I’ll make it worth your while.”

  Yeah, I’ll bet. Shea chugged the last of her coffee and pitched the cup into a nearby trash can. “Fine, I’ll see you at nine.”

  “Oh, and you’re going to need to introduce yourself by your road name.”

  “What road name?”

  “Whatever it was you used to go by way back when.”

  “I’d rather just go by Shea, if it’s all the same to you.”

  Debbie’s face hardened. “It’s not all the same to me. We use road names in the Sisterhood. It’s for your protection and for everyone else’s. So no one can track us down.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  “It’s not a request. You want to hang with us, you use a road name.”

  Shea’s jaw tightened. The more time she spent with this woman, the more she wanted to kick her ass. “I went by Pantera when I was a teenager boosting cars.”

  Labrys scrunched her eyes. “Pantera seems too ethnic for you.” Her gaze wandered around the room and stopped at an abstract painting with the word HAVOC in bold white letters against a grungy background. “Havoc. That’s your road name.”

  “Havoc? Seriously?”

  “See you at nine, Havoc.”

  Chapter 11

  After spending eight hours working with Lakota on the engineering specs of Chlöe Stansbury’s café racer, Shea arrived home to a smorgasbord of savory aromas.

  A pair of tapered candles flickered on the coffee table. Jessica stood in front of the stove stirring a pot of soup while keeping an eye on two other boiling pots.

  “Hey, babe, what smells so good?” Shea kissed her temple.

  Jessica wiped away dots of perspiration from her forehead. “Lentil soup and a Mediterranean salad for starters, followed by homemade gnocchi with marinara sauce. And for dessert, poached pears in a pomegranate wine reduction.”

  “I got no idea what most of that is, but if you made it, I know it’ll be delicious. What’s the occasion?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  Shea got a sinking feeling in her stomach. What’d I miss? “My birthday’s not till February. Yours was last month.”

  “Think back to May.”

  “Last May? Oh, that’s when we started dating, right?”

  A look of frustrated bemusement played across Jessica’s face. “Yes, and that makes tonight…”

  “Wednesday?”

  “Our six-month anniversary.”

  “Oh.” Is this a big deal? Should I have brought flowers? Shea wondered. “Well, happy six-month anniversary.” She grinned nervously and pulled Jessica close for a more intimate kiss.

  The warmth and tenderness of Jessica’s lips reminded Shea how much she needed her. And how pissed she would be when Shea told her she was going out later.

  “Where’s Annie?” Shea asked when she came up for air.

  “Terrance and his new boyfriend are baby-sitting her, so you and I can have a night alone.” Jessica’s eyes twinkled with promise and seduction.

  Guilt pressed on Shea’s conscience and she pulled away from the embrace. “Hon, there’s something I gotta tell you.”

  Jessica frowned. “What?”

  “I met with Detective Rios the other day. She’s pressuring me to spend time with the Athena Sisterhood.”

  “The Athena Sisterhood? Why?”

  “A few women have died recently from hex laced with rat poison. Rios thinks someone in the club’s selling it.”

  “Why get you involved?”

  “They think that with my background I can find out who’s dealing.” She deliberately didn’t mention her meeting with Debbie. No need to make Jessica more upset. “It’s bullshit, but I ain’t got no choice. I signed that goddamn confidential informant agreement. She’s got me by the short hairs.”

  “What about Annie? I can’t be the only one taking care of her. You’re her guardian.”

  “I know. You and Annie are the most important people in my life.” She reached out to Jess and pulled her close. “But if I don’t do this, Rios is gonna send my ass back to prison.”

  Jessica sighed and stirred a pot of sauce with a wooden spoon. “So when does this undercover assignment begin?”

  “Tonight.”

  “Tonight? Dammit!” Jessica threw the spoon into the sink, splattering tomato sauce against the wall. “I spent the past two hours making a special dinner for us. It’s the first night we’ve had alone in forever.”

  Shea embraced her from behind. “I’m sorry, honey. I really am. You did all this for me, for us. It’s wonderful.”

  “And it’s all going in the garbage.”

  “No, it’s not. I don’t have to show up until nine. Let’s just enjoy the amazing dinner you made, and then we should still have time for a little sumthin’-sumthin’.”

  Jessica turned around, cradled Shea’s face in her hands, and sighed. “I wanted tonight to be special.”

  “It is. You made it special. I shoulda done something, too. I’ve just been so busy with work, I barely got a brain cell to spare. But you mean the world to me.”

  Shea leaned in and kissed Jessica. Lips and tongues intertwined. Shea allowed the walls of her heart to come down. Anger, frustration, and fear faded.

  After a few minutes, a timer went off, pulling the two of them back into reality. Shea smiled, not caring that it made the childhood scars on her face seem deeper. She stepped back as Jessica finished preparing dinner.

  Jessica switched off the burners on the stove. “Help me dish up.”

  “I’d invite you to come with me, but I know how nervous you get riding on the back of my bike at night.” Shea filled two bowls of lentil soup while Jess plated their salads. The two of them sat down on the love seat in the den and Shea put a hand on Jessica’s thigh. “I won’t stay long. Probably have one drink, shake a few hands, and head out.”


  “You swear?”

  “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

  “No dying! Please! Just come home safe.” Jessica pecked Shea on the cheek. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

  Shea pulled Jessica closer, her body coming alive with need. “Because you have an unhealthy attraction to bad girls.” She kissed Jess hard.

  Jessica moaned and stretched out on the love seat. “So my therapist tells me.”

  Shea’s hand slipped under her girlfriend’s shirt, grazing her back ever so slightly, causing Jess to gasp. “And I’m really good with my hands.”

  Jessica pushed Shea back with a sigh. “Promise me something first.”

  “What?” asked Shea, feeling more than a little frustrated.

  “You won’t sign up to be a pledge, okay?”

  “A what? You mean a prospect?”

  “Whatever they call it in biker clubs.”

  Shea scoffed. “Trust me, I got no intention of spending the next year as a prospect. I don’t even want to be a hangaround.”

  “Just promise me.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I promise.” She kissed Jessica’s throat. “Now can we get back to celebrating our semi-anniversary?”

  “The soup’s going to get cold.”

  “Soup can wait. I’m hungry for dessert.”

  —

  After pouring her fourth beer from the pitcher on the table, Shea felt her cellphone vibrate in her pocket. In the crowded bar, she couldn’t hear it ring above the noise. She opened her phone. Jessica was calling. It was nearly midnight. A flick of her thumb sent the call to voicemail.

  “Sorry,” said Shea to the stocky woman with a square jaw and a blond buzz cut sitting across from her. “You were about to tell me how you got the name Savage.”

  “It’s stupid, really.” The patches on the front of her cut identified her as the club’s sergeant at arms.

  A woman who was sitting next to Savage, with the nickname Indigo, nudged her playfully. “I think it’s a funny story.” She swept her mahogany braids behind her shoulders.

  Savage rolled her eyes. “Fine. Before I became an EMT, I was a navy corpsman assigned to a marine outfit in Iraq. A guy in my unit was really into 1950s pulp fiction. One night after he’d had a few too many, he started calling me Doc Savage. The name stuck.”

  “But wasn’t Doc Savage a guy?” asked Shea.

  Savage shrugged. “What did I care? How ’bout you? What’d you do to earn the name Havoc?”

  “You’d have to ask Labrys.” Shea paused, feeling her head swim from the alcohol. “So, how long’ve y’all been a part of the Athena Sisterhood?”

  “A year and a half,” said Indigo. “Started out as just a women’s riding group, but then the Athena Sisterhood approached us about starting a local chapter. I was apprehensive at first, but I really love being part of this family.”

  “It’s a great group of women,” said Savage.

  “Y’all ain’t worried the Confederate Thunder’s gonna push back?” asked Shea.

  “Crazy white boys with guns? Been dealing with that shit my whole life,” said Indigo with a half-serious grin.

  Savage nudged Indigo. “Labrys says they talk real big, but they ain’t nothing to worry about.”

  Shea shook her head. “Labrys doesn’t know them like I do.”

  “How do you know them?” asked Savage.

  “I grew up with them. My father was their president when I was a kid.”

  Indigo glanced at Savage, then at Shea, an embarrassed look on her face. “Sorry, didn’t mean no offense by that crazy white boys comment.”

  “Relax,” said Shea. “They are crazy. And dangerous. My old man murdered my mama just for trying to leave him.”

  “Damn!” Savage took a drink of her beer and shook her head. “That must’ve been awful.”

  “Ancient history.” Shea swirled the beer in her bottle and shrugged. “But that’s what I mean when I say they’re dangerous.”

  “Your father give you them scars on your face, too?” asked Savage.

  “Naw. Got attacked by a dog when I was a kid. My old man of all people saved me.”

  “Shit. You had a helluva childhood.” Indigo grimaced. “I guess what don’t kill ya makes ya stronger.”

  “So they say,” said Shea.

  A woman wearing an Athena Sisterhood cut over a purple flannel shirt walked over, carrying a tall bottle of San Pellegrino sparkling water. “Hey! Y’all seen Orphan?”

  “You just missed her, Pipes,” said Savage. “Left about five minutes ago.”

  Pipes shook her head. “Dammit, I needed to talk to her.”

  “I heard her roommate just died,” added Indigo. “Overdose or something. So sad.”

  “Pipes, you met Havoc?” asked Savage.

  Pipes shook Shea’s hand. “You gonna be joining us?”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Pleasure to meet ya.” She finished the bottle of sparkling water and slammed it down on the table. “Okay, y’all have a good night. I’m outta here.”

  Indigo pretended to pout. “So soon?”

  “Yeah, got a meeting with one of my Narcotics Anonymous sponsees in the morning.”

  “See ya, Pipes.” Savage waved.

  Shea looked Indigo in the eye, then at Savage. “Mind if I ask y’all a question?”

  Indigo nodded. “Uh, sure.”

  “I heard somebody in the club is dealing hex. You know anything about that?”

  Indigo shifted and looked away. “Never heard that.”

  “Hex?” asked Savage. “Who told you that?”

  Shea shrugged. “Just people talking.”

  “Despite what you might have heard, we don’t allow no drugs in the club,” insisted Savage. “No dealing. No using. As the club’s sergeant at arms, I make sure of that.”

  “No one?”

  “What are you?” asked Indigo. “A cop?”

  “No,” answered Shea, feeling a rush of indignation.

  Indigo looked askance at Shea. “Sure about that? You seem awfully curious about this whole drug thing.”

  Shea pulled out a business card and slid it over to Indigo. “I build custom motorcycles for a living.”

  Indigo examined the card. “You work at Iron Goddess? You know Terrance?”

  “He’s my business partner.”

  “Interesting. He and I go way back.” Indigo tucked the card into her purse. “I may have to stop by next time my bike needs servicing.”

  A couple of men in Confederate Thunder cuts walked into the bar. Shea recognized them right away. One-Shot, the club’s president, stood six-foot-something with a military-style crew cut. His VP, Mackey, a stout guy with the face of a weasel, scanned the room.

  Shea reached over and tapped Labrys’ shoulder. “Hey! We got trouble.”

  Labrys set down her beer, mouth agape. “Um…maybe they’re just here for a drink.”

  “At Gertie’s? I don’t think so.”

  Mackey nudged One-Shot and pointed to the tables where the Sisterhood was sitting.

  “Crap.” Shea felt her body tense. “They spotted us.”

  “What do we do?” asked Indigo.

  “Y’all sit tight. I got history with these guys. Lemme see if I can defuse the situation.” Shea grabbed her glass beer mug and walked around their table to intercept the two Thundermen.

  “Hey, One-Shot,” said Mackey. “Look who it is—the dog-faced diesel dyke.”

  Shea hoped the beers hadn’t slowed her reflexes too much. “What do y’all want?”

  “You with the Barbie bikers, lesbo?” asked Mackey.

  “What business is it of yours?” The bar grew quiet as patrons noticed the confrontation.

  “Cortes County’s our territory,” said One-Shot in a monotone bass voice. “They wanna start a club, they need to talk to us first. You know this.”

  “Aw, come on, One-Shot. They’re just women who like to ride,” said Shea. “They ain’t horning in on your
little crystal meth empire, if that’s what’s eating you.”

  “They wanna ride? They can ride. But not while wearing outlaw-style patches.” One-Shot folded his arms. “No one starts an MC here without our permission. It’s disrespectful.”

  “Fuck you, Lurch!” Labrys appeared next to Shea. “I don’t need a man’s permission to tell me what I can and can’t wear.”

  One-Shot took a step toward Labrys.

  Shea recognized the look on his face. If she didn’t do something fast, the situation would turn bloody. She stepped between them. “One-Shot, wait!”

  He paused and turned to Shea, but remained silent.

  “You and I both grew up with the Thunder. I respect that you’re president of the club now. So don’t screw it up and make the same mistake your predecessor did.”

  “And what mistake’s that?”

  “Stirring up trouble where there ain’t none. Hunter’s dead because he stole dope from the Jaguars.”

  Mackey shoved Shea’s shoulder. “That’s a goddamn lie. He’s dead because you lured him up to the Jaguars’ warehouse by claiming they had his kid. Never woulda gone back there otherwise. His death is on you.”

  More than you know, Shea thought as she remembered the bullet she’d put in Hunter’s head. “Be smart, One-Shot. Leave the Athenas alone. They ain’t hurting no one.”

  She could see the wheels turning in One-Shot’s head as he considered the situation. Her grip tightened on her beer mug. Come on, man. Just walk away.

  He shook his head. “No one but the Thunder wears the MC patch in this county. If they don’t take off those cuts—”

  “Not gonna happen, asshole,” yelled Labrys.

  Mackey swung at Labrys, but Shea caught his arm with her free hand. Mackey drove his other fist into Shea’s jaw, splitting her lip. She spat blood in his face and clocked him with her mug, knocking him off his feet. Blood trickled from a cut above his eye.

  Shea pointed the beer mug at Thunder’s president. “Leave us alone, One-Shot.” Members of the Sisterhood circled around her.

  One-Shot helped Mackey to his feet. “Final warning. Next Barbie biker I see riding with an MC cut is gonna get hurt.”

  Mackey wiped the blood from his face and pointed to Shea. “You just earned yourself a death sentence. I don’t care who your old man was.”