Free Losing Me, Finding You by C.M. Stunich

Beck can see and stand up.
    “Yup, that's her,” I respond, glancing around for the exit. My eyes land on the sign just a second too late, drawn back towards the bar entrance and Diamond's smiling face.
    “Austin,” she begins and whatever it is that she wants, I know I'm not going to like. I watch her run her skinny fingers up Beck's arm and try not to hate him for liking her so damn much. Despite my warnings to the contrary, Beck likes to play games with Melissa, and I always wonder if the next time is going to be the last, if the Pres is gonna catch the two of 'em at it like rabbits and smash his skull in with a baseball bat. It could happen. Hell, the bitch might even rat him out because well, that's just the type of person that Mel is. “Kent wants to talk to you, if you've got a minute.”
    What she means is, I better damn well make a minute to come talk to Kent.
    I sigh and light up, wondering if I should mention Amy now or wait out the rest of the festival, see what happens. I like the girl, sure, but do I want her to join my MC? Do I want to drag her around the country with me? After all, she doesn't have a ride of her own – doubt she's ever even sat on the back of a bike. She'd be mine to take care of, and I'm not sure I'm ready for anything like that. She was a good fuck, sure, but maybe that's all she is? A hot lay that'll fade into the distant background of my memory like most girls. Course, I'm thinking all this shit now, but when I had my hands on her hips and my dick inside of her, I was singin' a different tune. Shit.
    I follow Beck and Melissa back into the bar, carefully keeping my eyes diverted away from Mireya. She wants me to look at her, even seems kind of desperate for it, but I can't. I can't look at her after Amy and let her see in my face what I'm thinking and how I feel. I think she could sense something after the bridal shop, but I don't see how confirming her worst fears is going to help. One look at Amy and I was stuck. Mireya and I have been on and off for years, and still, I don't want to own her like I do Amy. Maybe she wants that, maybe not, but I can't let her see, not yet. I can't let her see that a girl I don't even know has got me enraptured, pulled under like I've been cursed. Maybe it's best if I don't say anything to Kent right now. I don't know what that girl's done to me, but I can't let it trip me up.
    I've got other things to worry about.
    Beck veers away and joins Gaine at a table near the front, leaving me to slide into a booth across from Kent. Melissa slips in next to him and straddles his lap, effectively blocking my view of his face. Fucking bitch, I think as she starts kissing Kent's neck and showing me that she could give a fuck less about who we are and what we do. I bet she doesn't even have a clue what Triple M actually stands for.
    “What?” I snap. Kent might be the president of our MC, but that doesn't mean I have to take his shit. He knows that; I know that. Most of the time we keep out of each other's way, but not this time. This time, we've got outside influences. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that bullshit and nonsense.
    “I've got the keys to the parking garage,” Kent tells me, and since I already know where this is going, I start to stand up.
    “I'm not doing it,” I tell him as I blow smoke into Melissa's upturned face and wish she wasn't so pretty, so she couldn't walk around with that arrogant as shit look on her pointy face all the damn time. “You brought me in to do a job, and I do it. I do it well, matter o' fact. And then you ask me to babysit, and I do okay at that, too, but I ain't doin' this.” I point down at the table with my finger for emphasis. There are rules that bikers live by that Kent just doesn't seem to get, even after spending his entire adult life in and out of different MCs, tasting the country and feeling the wind in his face, and still, he doesn't have a single ounce of respect in him.
    “Fine.” Just