Love's Choice Read online

  “Oh, my,” she gasped.

  “And...I thought I saw something.”

  “What?”

  I shrugged. I couldn't tell her. It was too crazy. “It must have been around here,” I said, noticing were the road bent. I peered into the brush on the other side of the road. That's where it looked like the glowing figure had stumbled out from.

  “What's this?” Haleigh asked. “It's sparkly.”

  A trail of glittery wet spots crossed the road from the bushes. Something had leaked, splattering the glitter across the road and into the bushes. I peered through the thick brush. Not far from the road was a steep drop into a small ravine. I moved to the edge and peered down. I spotted nothing except for more glittering splatters.

  “This is weird. I've never seen anything like it,” Haleigh muttered.

  “Yeah,” I frowned.

  A crow cawed. The bird perched on a power pole, bigger than most crows I had witnessed. His head cocked, his beady eyes staring at me. Maybe he was a raven. They were like bigger crows. I stared back. He cawed again before taking flight.

  “Do you think this...glittery stuff is why your car died?” Haleigh asked. “Is it...like some sort of fluid from your car?”

  I blinked and shook my head. “No. It's probably not related. Let's get my car jump-started.”

  “Yeah,” Haleigh nodded.

  ~ ~ ~

  Magnus

  Raven's car was gone. I pulled my Harley off the road and stopped where it had broken down. Up the road, The Bear and Eagle bar stood empty. It would be hours before it opened. It was dangerous for me to be here alone in Blood Eagles' territory after last night. Talon would be out for blood. He was the Vice President of the Blood Eagles. They didn't like my club. The Black Wolf Motorcycle Club was new. We were fresh and hungry, treading on the Blood Eagles' territory.

  I pulled Raven's name tag out of my jeans pocket. It was the only clue I had to go on, left behind when Raven snuck out of the motel room. There was a logo of a boar drinking a cup of coffee. I traced the indents of her name and the logo with my thumb. My body still burned with her passion. She wasn't like the girls that hung out at biker bars. Raven wasn't fawning or weak. She had backbone. She fought against Talon last night.

  Raven was a warrior.

  I recognized her strength the moment I saw her walking in the fog. It was why I made the stupid decision to walk into the Blood Eagles' bar and rescue her. I had to tame her. No, it wasn't a stupid decision. It may have been the best decision I had ever made.

  “For I must love because I live,” I whispered, remembering Christopher Bennan's powerful poem.

  A romantic lurked in my heart. It was buried deep beneath hard flesh. I had been shot and knifed. I had spilled blood and broken bones. I suspected many outlaws had romance lurking in the shadows of their hearts. Why else did we yearn to be free of society's shackles and blaze our own paths? It was what drove us to love and fight and drink and play the way we wanted.

  And I wanted her. Raven's scent lingered in my nose. A lot of women had graced my bed, but none before had given me such a taste of passion. I had lived last night. Now I felt empty. All my freedom seemed for naught but an empty birdcage.

  “I'll find you,” I promised, revving my Harley. I roared off, the wind whipping at my hair as I hunted.

  A wolf always found his prey.

  Chapter Two

  I tried to forget about Magnus, but two days later he was still seared into my mind. I had whole minutes where I berated myself for at least not getting his number. Now I would never see him again. Which was good.

  And yet it was bad.

  My thoughts bounced back and forth like one of those small, rubber balls that, when thrown hard, ricochet off of everything in a room, careening off walls, floors, and furniture in a blur of red or blue or another stupid, flashy color.

  Magnus is bad for me.

  Magnus is the most passionate man I've ever been with.

  He is dangerous.

  He is hot.

  Magnus would only hurt me.

  It hurts not being with him.

  My life was calmer without him.

  My live was boring without him.

  I walked to work, the Monday morning bright and cheery. Pedestrians streamed down the sidewalks of downtown Seattle and cars crawled up and down the streets. The buildings rose high above us. Music drifted through the air as street performers played catchy, staccato beats on steel drums. The city was alive and bustling.

  I had all the excitement I needed right here. I didn't need a dangerous, hunky, handsome, passionate, poetic biker to give it to me. I just had to go outside and experience the vibrancy of Seattle. There was always something new to see and experience.

  I passed three Starbucks and two Seattle's Best Coffees on my walk to my far superior coffee house. Those corporate stores didn't have the delicious perfection that Freddy and Gerdie put into their brew. Theirs was a craftsmanship that only personal love could create. I wore my waitress uniform—black pants and a green polo shirt with a white boar drinking a cup of coffee—my new name tag pinned to my breast.

  The Boar Coffee and Cafe sat on the corner, its friendly mascot painted on the large window, a tusky grin beaming at the crowds. It was such a cute sign, and what had first attracted me to the cafe. The flowers were out on the sidewalk before the door, along with a sandwich board sign with today's specials written in florescent chalk. Inside, it was well lit, and each table had a vase full of wildflowers in the center, the floor made of a darkly polished hardwood. There was a rustic feel to the bar, like it belonged in a small town like Maple Valley instead of the heart of the largest city in Washington.

  “Raven,” Gerdie greeted. The tall woman stepped out from behind the bar. She had the look of a German milkmaid who had matured into a beautiful matron, with long, blonde hair she kept in two braids and a warm smile. I looked up at her and returned her smile. She was tall, over six feet, but perfectly proportioned. She could still be a model with her figure. “How are you today?”

  “Just fine,” I answered and gave my boss a hug.

  “Well, aren't you looking just pretty today,” Freddy smiled, striding out of the back room. He wore a conservative skirt and blouse, his brown hair cut short. Freddy was a cross-dresser, his face painted up with rouge, and a big smile on his lips. “Doesn't she look pretty today, dear?”

  Gerdie smiled at her cross-dressing husband. “Yes, she does. She looks pretty every day.”

  They were a strange couple. I didn't mind that Freddy liked to cross-dress, though his deep voice rumbling from a rather pretty, feminine face was disconcerting the first time I heard it. He made no attempt to hide his masculine voice even as he walked around in cute dresses, perfect makeup, and a stuffed bra.

  That was what I loved about Seattle, you met the most interesting people.

  “Hi, Freddy,” I said, giving him a hug. He kissed both my cheeks. “Anything special I need to tackle?”

  “No, everything's going A okay,” Freddy nodded.

  I strode into the back room and dropped off my purse before grabbing a clean, white half-apron and tying it around my waist. I clocked on and stepped back out into the cafe, surveying the scene. Gerdie puttered around behind the bar and Freddy was out front cleaning the windows.

  Only one customer was in right now. It was between the early morning and the lunch rush right now. I walked behind the bar, grabbed the pot of coffee, and carried it to our only patron. He would be wanting a refill.

  “Hey, Owen,” I smiled as I bustled up to the grizzled veteran sitting at his usual table in the corner of the cafe. “How're you feeling today?”

  Owen grunted. He was a lean man, almost all bone and no muscle, his flesh worn away by the burdens of age. Scars crisscrossed his face with creased, white lines. One ran across his left eye, covered by a black eye patch. Long, gray hair fell in a wispy tangle around the collar of his green army coat. It was frayed and worn with unit patches de
corating both sleeves. Vietnam had broken the old man. He clung to his identity as a soldier, still wearing the stylized raven symbol, resembling a figure you would see on a Native American totem, of the 81st Armored Brigade Combat Team.

  He held out his coffee mug clutched by a spotted, gnarled hand. A musky smell, likely mothballs, wreathed him. I poured his coffee, then planted a warm kiss on his whiskered cheek. “I'm sorry for your loss.”

  Owen nodded. “You get to my age, and you think you'd be used to it.”

  “How can you ever get used to a friend dying?” I asked him, sitting down in the chair opposite. I should return the coffee pot, but it could sit for a few minutes.

  Owen peered at me with his own good eye. It was a deep brown, intense. I squirmed as he stared at me. I felt so young, reducing in age from twenty-one back to a little girl. “No. I don't suppose you can. Especially not when he was like a son. Damn,” he growled and took a deep drink of his coffee. “Gerdie, why did your no-good husband ever get out of the bar business?”

  “Because he was tired of old drunks like you smashing up his furniture,” Gerdie answered, the tall woman walking over to Owen and me.

  Owen snorted. “I sense your meddlesome hand, woman.”

  Gerdie arched an eyebrow. “I don't make my husband do anything. And you know that. He does what he wishes. He always has.”

  Gerdie sat beside me. I felt even more like a child sitting next to my mother. Why did she have to be so tall? Her hand reached across the table and patted Owen's. “At least you're doing better than his widow, poor thing. She's not taking it well.”

  “You knew Owen's military buddy?” I blinked.

  Gerdie nodded, her smile fading. “Sweet boy. Everyone loved him.”

  I frowned. Boy? Gerdie had to be younger than Owen's war buddy.

  Owen took another gulp of his coffee and leaned back in his chair. My thoughts drifted as we sat in silence. A motorcycle roared. My heart beat faster as I glanced out the window. A man in shorts and a tank top drove by on a red Harley.

  Disappointment squashed my excitement. Not Magnus. He would never wear something so pathetic. In my mind, I pictured him roaring past in his leather vest and blue jeans, his blond hair flowing behind as he rode his mount into battle. Strong, passionate, powerful.

  “Why are you smiling, Raven?”

  I blinked and then gasped, covering my lips. I was smiling. My cheeks burned. “Nothing.”

  “She's thinking about the boy she met,” Gerdie smiled beside me.

  “I wasn't,” I lied. “And I haven't met some boy.”

  Gerdie's smile deepened. “No, she's met a man.”

  “A man, huh,” Owen said, nodding his head.

  I squirmed, my chair creaking beneath me. “I haven't met anyone. Okay.”

  “Sure,” Gerdie said, nodding her head sagely. “You haven't spent the last two days floating around my cafe with your head full of thoughts of this young man.”

  “Floating?” I asked, my shoulders hunching. “I wasn't floating.”

  “Look at the color in her cheeks,” chuckled Own. “So you've made your choice.”

  “Choice?”

  “On your man,” Owen nodded. “It's an important choice.”

  My eyebrows furrowed. “My mother said the same thing once.”

  “Smart woman. You make the wrong choice, and you'll pay. You'll pay in ways you can't even imagine.”

  “Well, I haven't made a choice,” I said. “Because he would be the wrong choice.”

  “See. There is a man.” Gerdie nudged me. “You have to talk.”

  “He's dangerous,” I answered.

  Owen nodded. “And strong?”

  “Of course.” Was my voice growing breathy? “And so handsome on his motorcycle.”

  “If you can tame the wild ones, they make the best choices,” Owen said. “He sounds good for you.”

  “What?” I gaped.

  “Strong, dangerous. He's a biker, so he's wild.” Owen rubbed at his chin. “I think he sounds perfect for you, Raven. He'll be your champion.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Young Raven

  Charlie ran off crying, his eyebrow bleeding from a cut. Confused, I dropped my weapon to the ground. Tears burned in my eyes. What did I do wrong? I won. I delivered the finishing blow. I didn't hit him that hard. My stick wasn't even broken.

  I glanced down at the gnarled stick just to double check.

  My mother laughed behind me as she walked across the park from the shaded picnic benches. I ran to her. I liked Charlie. He made me laugh and had a funny smile. We were having so much fun playing swords. And then he had to go and run off crying. He was a boy. He should be able to take a little whack to the head.

  “Mommy,” I sniffed. “W-why did he run off?”

  My mother scooped me up, her blue eyes full of mirth. She gave me a kiss on the cheek.

  “He was weak,” she answered. My mother was beautiful, even with the white scar running across her cheek. It made her seem fiercer—a warrior woman.

  “I was just playing like you and Daddy do,” I sniffled. “When you hit Daddy with your wooden sword, he doesn't run off and cry.”

  “Your daddy isn't weak.” Mommy glanced over at Daddy lounging on the picnic table, his thick arms spread out on the table. “Choosing your man is very important, Raven. The most important choice you'll ever make. You have to get it right. He needs to be strong.”

  “And handsome?” I asked. Daddy was very handsome.

  “Being handsome is a definite bonus,” Mommy laughed. “Particularly if he has a cute butt.”

  “Mommy,” I giggled.

  “He needs to be strong and brave. Someone that will protect you and fight for you. He has to be someone you can absolutely trust with your life. Someone that won't let you down when things go bad. Because they will. Life is rarely happy for long.”

  I nodded my head.

  “The wild ones are the best. If you tame them, they're as fierce as any wolf protecting his mate.”

  “Is Daddy a wolf?”

  “Yes, he is,” Mommy smiled. “I tamed him. Not fully. Just enough. You don't want a man fully tame. He needs to be wild to be your champion.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Raven

  I frowned at Owen. “Champion?”

  Owen nodded. “Isn't that what women want? A man that's strong, loving, protective. Someone that will support them and stand up for them. Who will even fight with them.”

  “You sound like my mother,” I said, cocking my head. “Right before the...bear attack, we were at a park, and she told me something similar.”

  “Your mother was a smart woman.”

  “Did you know her?” My chest tightened about my heart.

  “Wouldn't that be a grand coincidence?” Owen asked and then snorted with laughter. “Raven, there's seven billion people in the world. What would the odds be that I would know your mother and then we'd meet like this? But she sounds like a smart woman. I'd listen to her advice.”

  I leaned back. “Okay.” I bit my lip. “But Magnus is...”

  “His name is Magnus?” Gerdie smiled. “Ooh, he does sound like a wild one.”

  “He's dangerous. The night I met him...” Excitement flushed through me. “I made a mistake. I was caught up in the moment. He...helped me out. I was attacked and—”

  “Attacked?” Owen demanded, leaning in closer to me. “By what?”

  “Just an asshole biker.” My fist clenched. “I clawed his face up and Magnus punched him. He was from a rival club, I think, and, well, Magnus is too dangerous and too exciting to be around.”

  Owen relaxed. “Oh. I thought you might have been attacked by something else.”

  “Like what?” A being of glowing, pure light that knocked me out and drained the batteries of my car and all my electronics? How would Owen know about that?

  Owen shrugged. “I don't know. A beast or something.”

  “Freddy used to be dangerous,” Gerdie smiled. “A
nd look at him now.”

  I glanced at Freddy puttering around in his dress as he washed the windows. “Well, I like Freddy, but...”

  “She wants a real man,” Owen laughed. “Not Freddy prancing in his pretty skirts.”

  “I didn't mean it like that,” I gasped. “I'm not...prejudiced against cross-dressers and transgenders. If he wants to express himself like that, it's fine with me.”

  “Freddy was cross-dressing when I met him,” Gerdie said, folding her arms. “And you know that, old man. He's always been a sensitive man, but that doesn't mean he wasn't dangerous in his own way. He didn't back down when some people objected to our marriage.”

  Owen mumbled beneath his breath.

  I shifted, growing uncomfortable. “Well, I'm glad you like dangerous men, Gerdie, but I just want a nice guy.”

  I stood up, trying to convince myself that all I wanted and needed was a nice guy. Someone that would love me and cuddle with me on rainy afternoons. I didn't need a protector. I didn't need someone strong. This wasn't the middle ages. Women weren't delicate flowers that needed to be coddled.

  I did not need Magnus and his exciting passion.

  Chapter Three

  Magnus

  I fingered the name tag. It took a few hours searching the internet before I found the Laughing Boar Coffee and Cafe in Seattle. The logo was the same. Best of all, Raven's smiling face, dressed in the cafe's silly uniform, graced the coffee shop's Facebook page.

  Her wild scent lingered. I could still smell her even after two days. I relived our passion. No woman had ever captivated me like her. The feel of her silken skin burned into my fingertips. Her moans seared into my mind.

  I wanted to ride out to Seattle right away, but club business held me back. I was the president of the Black Wolves Motorcycle Club, Maple Valley Chapter. I was a founder. We were growing fast. Down in Graham our second chapter had opened and we had an affiliate club in Auburn that might patch over.

  And growing fast made enemies.

  It didn't help I walked right into the middle of the Blood Eagles' turf and punched Talon right in the face. I clenched my fist, smiling as I remembered the satisfaction of the asshole falling back unconscious. He never knew how to properly treat a barfly, let alone a woman like Raven.