14. Asher

After a glorious startto the week, the rest slid downhill, starting with being called into Coach's office to be reamed out about leaving Winter tied to the damn goal after the game. I had no idea how Coach had heard about it, but he was pissed. I'd have to figure out who apart from Eve had seen Winter like that and dig his eyes out with a spoon later.

"This is the kind of distraction you can't afford, Asher, not to mention who you've chosen to mess around with. Winter DeLaurie? Seriously? Her father is one of the biggest donors at HHU."

"Winter started it?—"

Coach Eric cut me off. "I don't want to hear it. You sound like a middle-schooler right now. You can't afford to fuck up. You're already not playing when you need to be jelling with the team. When do you think the NHL recruits? It's not senior year, I'll tell you that. You need to get your head together. You, more than anyone else on the team, need to be noticed. You've already put yourself behind with the transfer."

"Yes, Coach," I muttered through gritted teeth.

Damn Winter and her games. Damn the fact that I couldn't seem to stay away, despite knowing that playing with her was dangerous.

Later that day in art class was nude drawing, and a pain-in-the-ass assignment. Art was my one indulgent class. Today, staring at a nude female form felt flat and unexciting after the feeling of wrestling Winter's fully clothed body to my bed earlier and forcing my lips to hers. If that didn't make me fucked up, I didn't know what did.

"This month, we are focusing on what I like to call true beauty. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, it is subjective. I want to see what is truly beautiful to all of you. You have a week to show me initial sketches." Professor Dupont, a renowned local artist and one hell of a teacher, had given out his assignment and ended class, leaving me just enough time to grab some food before heading to work.

After getting fired from The Dunes, I was lucky to get a bartending shift at the local biker bar out on the highway. Marcus's brother was patched up, and he'd put in a good word for me. They didn't care about bullshit like if I'd turned twenty-one or was paying taxes. They gave me cash under the table, and that was good enough for now. I just needed a flexible gig so I could train as much as I needed to.

I was certainly training as often as I could, but it felt like a slow death to be excluded from play. I only had a few months to go, but it felt like an endless sentence to sit on the bench.

The bar was quiet tonight, with MC members playing pool with their old ladies, and some others sitting at the bar, shooting the shit with each other. Country songs played on the jukebox, and couples swayed to the music. On nights like tonight, The Clutch felt like where dreams went to die. There was a melancholic feeling that shrouded the place, and I tried my best not to let it get to me. The Clutch, with its stale beer and popcorn smell, sticky floors, and neon signs, was just a reminder of what I didn't want to let happen to my life. A life of menial jobs, always hustling to get the next meal on the table. I wanted more than that, and I wanted to provide a better life for my mom. She'd worked too long and hard for me and Eve only to end up with a failure as a son. Of course, I was pretty sure Beckett was eyeing up the "best son" position in the Martino family, and I'd be damned if I was letting him have it.

After an hour or so, Marcus' brother, Cole, strolled in, his guys in tow. Cole had been a member of the MC for a few years, ever since their father had gone to jail. Marcus never talked much about his family. I didn't know Cole all that well, but I knew he wasn't someone I wanted to cross.

"Martino. They treating you all right here?" Cole asked as I grabbed his drink.

He was a big dude, hockey defenseman big, but something told me Cole wasn't overly interested in team sports.

"Sure. Thanks for the hookup." I slid a beer bottle across the counter to him.

He nodded. "Yeah, well, Marcus' friends are my friends. He doing okay?"

I nodded. "As close to normal as he can be."

Cole chuckled. "And that isn't that close."

The bell above the door jangled, and I glanced up at the same time as Cole to see who had come into the bar.

Motherfucker.

Winter walked in. Legs for days encased in classic blue jeans. An off-the-shoulder sweater and that damn hair spread like liquid gold all around her shoulders. She had a hot pink jacket under one arm. Hot pink, in a dive biker bar. She looked expensive, classy and elegant, and I could safely say, no one like her had ever set foot in the joint before or ever would again.

I wasn't the only one who'd noticed.

Cole whistled low under his breath. "Who the fuck is that?" He leaned on the bar and took a long swallow of his beer. He jerked his head toward the bottles behind the bar. "Give me something girly, a cocktail."

He was buying her a drink. I didn't know much about Cole Bailey, but getting on his bad side was the wrong move. Not only that, but his dangerous, tattooed, bad boy looks were like catnip to every woman who wandered through the bar. The man was irresistible, apparently, to the fairer sex.

"She can't drink. She's not twenty-one," I found myself saying.

Cole turned to me and raised an eyebrow. "And you know this because?"

My breath sounded loud in my head. Everyone was staring at Winter. Of course, they were. She was as out of place at The Clutch as an alien would be.

"She's my girlfriend." The words left me before I had time to think about them.

Cole eyed me, searching for the lie, before nodding. "Well, good job, Martino. That's some discerning taste in pussy you've got there."

"Thanks," I muttered, throwing the rag I was drying glasses with over my shoulder before approaching Winter at the end of the bar.

She had pulled up a stool and was perched daintily on the edge, seemingly oblivious to the hoard of slavering bikers that was forming around her.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked in a low murmur.

She tossed her hair back over her shoulder, haughty as a queen. "I came for my portfolio. I need it."

"And you think I brought it to work with me?"

"How should I know? I just need it."

"I offered to give it to you earlier, but you told me to jump out the window."

"A message that sadly, you didn't seem to follow. Whatever, I need it. When can I get it?"

"Tomorrow. Go back to campus now."

Winter wasn't listening. She was peering around the bar with interest. "I had no idea this place was here."

"Not surprising. You're not their target clientele."

She finished her perusal of the bar and turned to me. "Who is that big guy? He's staring." She was talking about Cole, clearly.

"Everyone is staring. If you're in a room, people are staring. I'm sure you're used to it by now," I ground out. "Are you leaving? It's past your bedtime."

"You're not my dad, Asher, remember? I'd like a drink."

"Not happening. I can refuse service to whoever I want."

"You have major control issues, has anyone ever told you that?" Winter sighed and then turned and glanced at Cole, who was still staring at her. "Maybe he'll buy me one."

I put some ice in a glass and filled it with soda. "Here. Go nuts."

She wrinkled her nose at the glass. "What is it?"

"I call it the Spoiled Brat Special, and I made it just for you."

She picked up the glass and sipped it, giving me the finger as she went. "So, you have a job after The Dunes and the whole pot thing. Looks like I didn't mess up your life half as much as you like to pretend," she murmured.

Whatever I was going to say next was lost as Cole sauntered up behind Winter.

"Well, aren't you going to introduce me to your little girlfriend, Martino?" His voice was unreadable. Was this a test?

"Sure. Cole Bailey, this is Winter DeLaurie. Winter, Cole is Marcus' brother."

Winter twisted around to better see Cole. "Nice to meet you." She smiled at him politely, resting her hand in his when he reached for it.

"Nice to meet you, Miss DeLaurie…you wouldn't be Charles DeLaurie's daughter, would you?" He didn't let go of Winter's hand. I couldn't look away.

"You know my dad?" Winter wondered.

Cole shrugged. "Not personally. I know of him, of course. How could anyone in Hade Harbor not. His friend, Duncan, though. We go way back. We used to do business with the Fitzgeralds." I opened another beer for Cole and held it out to him, until he finally dropped Winter's hand and took it. I knew the name Fitzgerald. They were a big deal in Hade Harbor. Rich, but without the illustrious reputation of Winter's family.

"Oh." Winter frowned, clearly trying to imagine this tough-as-nails biker and people in her father's stuffy upper-class social circle doing business together. There were certain businesses that men like Cole were involved in, and none of them were white-collar office situations. Looked like the Fitzgeralds were even sketchier than I'd suspected. Of course, you didn't get to be as rich as they were without something illegal in your history, not unless you were born into money, like Winter and her family were. In that case, the shady stuff was just further back in their history.

"Yeah, going back a long time…upstate, near Bar Harbor. The Fitzgeralds have plenty going on over there."

"The Cove, right? Duncan's son, Trent, mentioned it," Winter said. Trent? Who the fuck was that? It was becoming clear that possessiveness was an unfortunate side effect of my game with Winter.

"Did he? Don't let him talk you into going," Cole said. "It's not for you." His cryptic words were flat and nonnegotiable.

Winter just nodded. "There's no danger of that. I couldn't be less interested. Duncan is just my dad's old college roommate. They're in an investment club together, but I don't think it meets outside Hade Harbor. It's just a bunch of old college friends, really. They meet at The Dunes once a month, or they used to," Winter mused.

"An investment club?" I repeated.

Winter eyed me. "Yeah, the most boring social activity in town."

Cole chuckled. "If it's boring, you can safety assume it has nothing to do with the Fitzgeralds' real interests, or their place upstate. Anyway, it was nice seeing you kids. Martino, take care of this one, she seems like the kind of broad who gets a guy in trouble. Miss DeLaurie." He nodded to Winter before heading for the door.

His gang of fellow bikers followed.

My shoulders didn't inch down from under my ears until every last one had left.

After, the bar felt empty, the tension that the MC carried with them slowly dissipating.

"That's Marcus' brother? He's so scary, and Marcus is so not," Winter said.

I shook my head. "Don't believe that for a second. Marcus is like that cheerful clown who keeps everyone laughing all day long, but under the suit, there's someone else entirely. He and Cole are very similar…both of them take after their dad."

"Their dad? Isn't he in jail for like…murder, or something?"

I nodded. "Exactly. Now, you're leaving, right?"

Over Winter's shoulder, I saw my replacement come in. I'd been on my feet for hours. I was ready to go home, but first, I had to make Winter leave.

"You're such a bully." Winter scowled at me. She picked up her glass and downed her soda. "And your drink sucks."

"Ouch, hitting me where it hurts, soda quality in a dive bar. Grab your jacket," I snapped at her.

She rolled her eyes and picked up her coat, sliding it on. "I could stay if I wanted to," she argued.

I nodded. "Yes, you could." I leaned on the bar and murmured near her ear. "But any minute now my man Tank, at the end of the bar, is going to start trying to fart along to the jukebox, so…if you leave this second, you might be spared."

She reared back, and her expression of horror made me smile.

She headed for the door without another word.

"Hey, you mind if I head out? We're slow tonight," I told my replacement who'd just wandered behind the bar.

"Go for it."

I grabbed my bike keys, leather jacket, and helmet, then went outside. Winter was just pulling out when I made it to the lot. She didn't see me, and that suited me just fine. I got on my bike and started it up, angling out of the lot the same way Winter had gone. Her taillights glowed in front of me. I followed far back enough that she probably wouldn't see me if she wasn't looking.

I tailed her back to Hade Harbor, through town and all the way to Greek row. She parked around the back of the sorority house, and after a few minutes, reemerged to walk up the stairs and disappear inside.

Tonight had revealed a sobering truth. I had told Cole Bailey that Winter was my girlfriend, because the idea of him hitting on her had made me want to attack him, and that wasn't a ticket to living a long and healthy life.

Still, if he'd made a damn move in her direction, I wasn't confident I could have stopped myself.

Winter DeLaurie was no longer just the untouchable Ice Queen of Hade Harbor. She was devious and smart, stubborn as fuck, and funny when you least expected it, and the thought of any other guy moving in on her bothered me.

It really fucking bothered me, which was totally unacceptable.

Clearly, I was going to have to do something about it.

A ringtone cut through my thoughts, and I answered quickly. "Mom, what's wrong?"

"I-I think I'm being followed. There's this man who is showing up everywhere I've been the last few days, and he's sitting outside the house in his car right now," Melly, my mother, whispered, as if she thought someone outside in a car could hear her.

What the hell?

"Don't go anywhere. Lock the doors. I'll be there in five minutes."