Chapter Seventeen

BANE AND DIO WALKED into the clubhouse from the parts shop. Jagger motioned them over to the bar. The clubhouse was quiet on a Wednesday afternoon.

"What's up?" Dio jumped up on the counter and sat. "Rush told us we're off the schedule for the rest of the week."

Bane widened his stance and crossed his arms. "Moroad Motorcycle Club is delivering the package next week."

"This has nothing to do with our contract with Moroad." Jagger leaned against the counter. "I need you both to find Ruger."

"I wouldn't think you were in a big rush to have him return," said Bane.

"Katrina's been trying to contact him for the last ten days. Hatchet claims he hasn't shown up at the mother chapter." He rubbed his whiskered jaw. "As much as I'd like to prolong his return, Katrina needs her dad."

He wouldn't get into Katrina's personal life with his MC brothers. Hell, she wasn't even discussing her worry about her dad with him. But he was aware she kept trying to contact him by phone. His absence had begun to interrupt her sleep. She was having nightmares and talking in her sleep.

"I'll ask around." Bane pulled out his phone. "Do you know where he usually hangs out?"

He shook his head. Since Ruger's release, he'd become a loner.

"Katrina mentioned he was riding out the day we left Beaverton. He arrived in Seaglass Cove before us, so whatever business he's tending to, he's close." He took a cigarette from his pack and put it unlit in his mouth. "I've put Brett and Cord in the shop."

Dio hopped down and slapped Bane on the chest. "Let's hit the road, brother."

The two of them left. Jagger headed toward the hallway when Katrina rounded the corner and peered around for him. Her gaze locked on him, and she relaxed. Stress was getting to her.

She approached him wearing a pair of cutoffs that were unsnapped under her belly button. Her diamond piercing twinkled in the low light of the clubhouse. He gazed at her breasts, spilling out of her bikini top.

He'd seen her many times, parading around in the same outfit. This time, he wanted to enjoy watching and touching her.

"Ready?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm not in the mood to swim or hang out with my aunt. I don't know why you're insisting it'll be good for me to go to the pool with her."

"Lighten up." He looped his arm around her bare shoulders. "I'll be with you."

"You're going swimming?"

"Yep."

She stopped walking. "You?"

He chuckled. "Why the surprise?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you never once have taken me swimming my entire life." She gawked at him. "I didn't even know you could swim."

"I paid for your swimming lessons when you were in grade school."

"That's not the same as swimming with me." She leaned against him as they went through the door into the parts shop. "Where's your trunks?"

"Don't need them."

She laughed. "We're going to last thirty seconds and get kicked out of the city pool."

He pushed the door open and walked out onto the sidewalk. It'd already hit eighty degrees. It was a warm one for the coast.

Walking down the sidewalk, he kissed her. She spotted Cora standing outside the doors as they went up the steps.

Her aunt waved. "Oh, good. You came. Daisy's giving us an hour to have the pool to ourselves. Wire's already in there with Brooke and Maverick." Cora pointed toward the left. "Girl's locker room is that way if you're picky."

"I'll take her." Jagger walked her into the room.

Katrina glanced at him. "You didn't bring a towel."

"I'll borrow yours." He shucked off his vest and set his pistol underneath the leather on the bench.

"No one else is here?" she asked.

"Nope. Just those who belong to Havlin." He pulled off his shirt.

Katrina walked over to the door leading to the pool. "Whoa."

The pool was impressive—well maintained and an asset to the city. Luckily for the club, Bane's ol' lady was the pool manager. They had figured out long ago how to shut off the security cameras to give them a little privacy while they cooled off.

"It's like a sauna in there," she said.

He finished getting undressed and walked naked to her. Katrina glanced at him and burst out laughing.

"There are others out there." She wrapped her hand around his flaccid cock.

"Are you going to make me walk out with a stiff one?" He slapped her ass. "You're going to learn fast that Wire and Maverick will be naked, too."

She rolled her eyes. "So, nothing I wouldn't see at a Havlin party. Got it."

She was born into the lifestyle. Nothing surprised her anymore.

Cora popped out of another door and joined Katrina at the side of the pool. Together, they lowered themselves into the water.

Jagger stepped off the edge and sunk below the surface. Surfacing, he shook out his hair and ran his hand down his beard.

Katrina's gaze widened, and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. If she kept looking at him that way, he'd take her back into the locker room and bend her over a bench.

She slipped into the pool and floated to him, looping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He cupped her ass, fingering the thin strip of material between her cheeks.

Cora brought Brooke over and introduced her to Katrina. He held her in the water, knowing she was uncomfortable around other women. For years, all she had was Mama Sue and the bitches that hung around the clubhouse. It was one of the reasons why Katrina grew up with a mouth on her. She mimicked the others from a young age.

"We both work at the coffee shop." Cora grinned. "Except today. It's slow, so Dania, the owner, let us have the afternoon off."

"I belong to Maverick." Brooke pointed to a large man sitting on the steps at the end of the pool. "Well, he belongs to me. Actually..." She laughed. "We both belong to Skye."

Cora grinned. "Skye is Brooke's niece and Maverick's daughter."

Katrina stared blankly at the women. Jagger could see the wheel turning in her head. She was curious about Brooke but refused to show any emotion toward an unfamiliar female associated with the club.

"It's complicated but it works." Brooke glanced at Jagger before asking Katrina a question. "You're from Beaverton?"

"Yeah." She leaned back, getting her hair wet. "I know Maverick. He rode under Hatchet before he went to prison."

He patted her ass. That was enough info sharing. In his experience ol' ladies got jealous fast, and Katrina was every biker's little sister. She had stories to tell, that shouldn't be told.

Maverick had a past, just like them all. Some things were better left unsaid.

"I know." Brooke glanced at her husband. "Now he's here, with me."

Katrina rolled her eyes. Jagger swam with her, putting some distance between her and the other women. She clung to his neck, kicking her legs to stay afloat.

"Do you hang out with those two?" asked Katrina.

So, that's why Katrina wasn't in the mood to talk to the other women. He grinned, running his hands over her hips. She was jealous.

She slapped his shoulder, splashing them both. He let her go and swam farther into the deep end. He'd let her stew. She knew the lifestyle. He wasn't talking.

The last two years he'd built a motorcycle club from the ground up. She worried for nothing.

When he swam back, he stood at the six foot mark in the pool. Katrina floated, ignoring him. He grabbed her foot and pulled her to him.

"Jagger?" She stayed on her back, looking at the sky through the glass enclosure. "How many women were you with in the last two years?"

"Don't go there." He grabbed her ankle and pulled her over to him. "You're with me now."

"I'm being serious. I'm not naive."

"We're not having this discussion."

"Maybe a better way to express my feelings right now is by telling you what I've done the last two years when you moved to Seaglass Cove." She flipped and treaded water. "Do you realize that every night I've gone to bed thinking about you being with other women because you weren't with me?"

"Kat," he muttered, lunging for her.

She swam backward, out of his reach. He stalked toward her. Because of her youth, she pulled herself out of the pool before he could reach her.

"Get back in the water."

Katrina stood at the edge, looking down at him. "Every single night, Jagger."

"You know how I feel about you."

"Bikers only think with their cock." She reached behind her and undid her bikini top, letting it fall to the side of the pool, and then she wiggled out of the bottoms. "You strut to the pool, letting everyone look at you." She held her arms out to the sides and turned in a circle. "What does this do for you?"

Her temper rose fast. He swept his hair off his forehead. In two seconds, he'd take her back to the clubhouse and show her exactly how he felt toward her.

She stared him down. "I wonder how I look to Wire. Hm. Maybe Maverick. He's a big guy."

A feminine gasp came from behind him. Probably Brooke. If Katrina continued, he'd be breaking up a girl fight.

"I've proven myself to you so many times, Jagger, I've lost track." She planted her hands on her hips. "Mama Sue told me to wait. To be patient. So, I waited and waited. I cried myself to sleep almost every fucking night. I fought men away from me because inside I belonged to you. I never once got drunk at parties because I wasn't going to let drinking be an excuse for making the biggest mistake of my life." She fisted her hands. "All because I believed one day, you'd get your shit together and finally claim me. Now you want to act like your life will end but it's okay because we have today, maybe tonight. It's bullshit." She raised her hands in the air. "Our lives together could end tonight. Whenever my dad returns." She patted her chest. "You've lived your life. But I haven't lived mine, and it's unfair that I didn't get a lifetime with you."

Katrina held her ground. He pulled himself out of the pool. She'd worked herself up until she exploded.

He picked up her bikini and handed it to her. "Get dressed."

Her gaze narrowed. Instead of arguing, she turned and sashayed her ass into the dressing room. She knew better than to put their private issues in front of club members.

Ignoring the others, he followed Katrina inside. By the time he got dressed, she was gone.

At that moment, she reminded him a lot of Ruger.

Fuck.