Dude with a Cool Car (Concrete Angels MC Book 2)

by Siobhan Muir

  Dollhouse nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I told her. Maybe you want to reinforce the idea the next time she comes in.”

  “Hey, Dollhouse?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Tell Neo and the rest thanks for me.”

  “What should I tell Karma?”

  “To come see me. Anything I have to say to her I want to tell her myself.”

  Dollhouse smiled. “Excellent plan. I’ll pass the message along.” She ducked out of the room.

  I hoped she would, but I didn’t want to be flat on my back when Karma came to see me. I slid my feet onto the floor and prepared to get up. I couldn’t remember what all Nightingale had done while I’d stayed in her infirmary, but I hadn’t had nearly as much trouble breathing as when I first arrived.

  As if my thoughts had conjured her, the Nurse Practitioner strode into the infirmary and studied me with her dark and wise eyes. I couldn’t tell how old she was—her face remained unlined and there was no silver in her black hair—but she knew her stuff and gave me the sense that she’d been around the block a time or two.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I think I’m ready to join the land of the living again.” I stretched gingerly to make sure I didn’t pull on anything I shouldn’t.

  “Humph, that remains to be seen.” She came to me with a critical look before she pointed at my shirt. “Take it off. Let’s see how your body is healing.”

  I carefully tugged my shirt off and set it aside as she studied my body. Most of the bruises had healed to become ugly green and yellow blotches on my torso, but the surgery scars showed up as pink lines. Her cool fingers touched me here and there, testing for tenderness. I hissed a few times as I moved my arm still in the sling, but otherwise I didn’t feel too bad.

  Must be the drugs.

  Speaking of drugs, they must have been good ones because my arm sat in a light brace slung across my body. It didn’t feel broken despite the doctor’s report Karma had photographed with her phone. Nightingale ran her hand over my arm, her eyes closed as she hummed for a few moments. Heat penetrated down to the bone and some of the background pain receded.

  “There, that’s a little better, isn’t it?” She glanced up at me and I swore her eyes glowed with golden light. But when I blinked, it was gone. “I think the pins are going to have to stay, but I suggest you pick up some calcium to help repair the bone around them. It’ll provide a lot more stability. From what I can tell, your ribs have knitted quite nicely and you should be moving and breathing much easier.”

  “Yeah, I am. Thanks. How’d my arm heal so fast?”

  She shrugged, her smile a lot like that of the Mona Lisa. “You must have good genetics and have gotten enough rest. But don’t push it for the next week or so. If you do, you won’t reach your full health for a lot longer.”

  “Yeah, okay, I will.”

  She narrowed her eyes as she looked me over. “Don’t make me chant a geas over you to make sure you rest. Ask Loki if you don’t believe me.”

  Something about the way she said it made me think her chants were a whole lot more powerful than just singing in another language. I nodded and promised to heed her words as I dressed. The last thing I wanted to do was ask Loki just about anything.

  It wasn’t until I had all my clothes on and had gathered my bag that I realized I had nowhere to go. Karma had brought me to the infirmary barely functional after they’d packed up my apartment. I had no idea where they’d put my stuff, or if they’d simply brought it to a Goodwill and dropped it off. Did I even have a place to sleep?

  Will I be able to stay with my Madam? Does she want me to?

  “Problem?” Nightingale raised an eyebrow as she started stripping the bed I’d used.

  “Yeah, no, I just don’t know where to go from here. They cleared out my apartment and made me disappear, but except for this bed, I really have nowhere to go.”

  She nodded as she pulled the pillowcase off and tossed it into a linen hamper. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest that maybe Karma wants you to stay with her.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  She also wanted to get rid of my car. She was right about it being the most visible vehicle in Colorado, but its loss meant more than just my ego. Rosé had given me new purpose when my life went to shit the first time. And it’s going to shit again.

  “Didn’t you tell Dollhouse that it wasn’t Karma’s fault?”

  “What?”

  “You said Karma hadn’t caused this rough spot in your life when Dollhouse told you the news.”

  “Yeah, that’s right.”

  “So why are you holding the loss of your car over her? She’s trying to protect you and give you a chance at bringing Backlog down.” Nightingale pulled the sheets off and threw them in the hamper. “She’s also trying to apologize for exposing you to Backlog and leaving you vulnerable. Maybe you could cut her a little slack. It’s just a car, Eric. It can always be replaced. Karma? Not so much.”

  Eric. That was my new name for my new identity. When I’d helped other people start new lives, I’d never understood the difficulty of giving up who they’d been to have a chance at who they’d become. I faced the same challenge.

  “Yeah, I know. It’s just hard to let go of who I’ve been, the person I thought I was.”

  Nightingale shot me a compassionate smile. “I understand. The question is, is that the person you were always meant to be, or is there someone far stronger, smarter, and better out beyond this change?”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  She shrugged as she gathered up the hamper to take out of the infirmary. “The only thing constant in this world is change, and if you refuse to do so, you could stagnate and die. Evolution isn’t just in biology and paleontology. It’s in sentient beings’ development, too. You have to adapt. There are plenty of people who’ve died long ago but they’re still walking upright. They were too scared to make the effort to change. You have a second chance, Eric. What will you choose to do?”

  She left me standing there with my mouth open. I’d thought Rosé and the Marshals were my second chance at a better life. But what if I had a third chance, and this time I had a partner to back me up? Someone who made the bad guys quake in the boots they didn’t know they had?

  The questions rattled around in my head as I stepped out into the clubhouse. Music played and voices came from the main room where people lounged in the chairs or against the walls near the TV. I skirted around them and the pool tables, not meeting anyone’s eyes. I was pretty sure most of them wanted to hang me from the nearest tree and I couldn’t blame them. I didn’t really have a crew, a family, backup or an agency.

  And I don’t have anywhere to go.

  I had Rosé, but she was pretty damn visible. At least she could get me somewhere if Karma didn’t want me. Maybe out of state. Yeah, and how long will I last on the run? Backlog was national. I headed for the front doors, wondering if my third chance was still available.

  “Coop! Shit, I mean, Eric.” Karma’s voice stopped me in my tracks and made everyone in the room stare at me.

  Great. So much for the low profile.

  I glanced back at her, my heart pounding in my chest at her beauty. I wanted her so much, but I had no idea where we stood. She’d told me she loved me and she’d visited the infirmary. Dollhouse said Karma loved me, but she’d never talked to me about what happened after I healed, and I wasn’t looking at a lot of friends in the room.

  “Hey.” She gave me a warm smile though it faltered when I didn’t return it. “Are you okay?”

  My mouth flattened into a sarcastic line but I managed to stop the sharp words from escaping. “I’m fine. What’s up?”

  She frowned and tilted her head, her gaze scanning me with unnerving intensity. “You’re angry. And scared, which just makes you more angry.” She nodded sharply and took my good arm. “Come with me.”

  She pulled me out of the clubhouse toward her
cabin. I didn’t have anywhere else to be and I liked being with her despite my unease, so I followed along without complaint. She opened her cabin door and stood back.

  “Go on in.”

  I met her gaze as I hesitated. “Why?”

  She sighed. “Because I want you here. You’re my Marshal, my sexy former lawman, and my mate. Didn’t you believe me in the hospital?”

  I nodded with a shrug. “Yeah, but that was days ago and I don’t really know what’s going on.” I held up my hand when she opened her mouth to protest. “I know it’s not logical, but it’s how I feel and feelings aren’t really logical, either. I’m out of my element here and I already fucked it up enough. I don’t want to make things worse.”

  “Okay.” She stepped across the threshold and turned to face me with her hand out. “Please, come in, Eric. I want you here in my life and in my bed…if you’re a good guy.” She gave me a sexy smirk that jumpstarted my heart and threatened to harden my cock. “I want you to be mine forever, or as close to it as we can get, and I promise to take care of you as your Madam for all that time.” She wiggled her fingers. “Will you accept my invitation?”

  You have a second chance, Eric. What will you choose to do?

  Nightingale’s words echoed in my head as I stared at Karma’s hand, and I knew the answer before I could utter it aloud.

  “I will.” I stepped forward and grasped her hand, allowing her to tug me into the room. The smirk widened into a genuine smile and I realized she’d been uncertain how I’d respond.

  She released me and closed the door before taking my bag from my hands and dropping it in the bedroom.

  “Now, come sit down. I need to tell you what we have planned.”

  “Why does it matter?” I shrugged again. “I’m not in any condition to help.” I lifted my splinted arm. “Not really up to anything physical.”

  “Don’t worry. We can work around that.” She smirked again and I suspected she meant something else. “But that’s later. Right now, we’re gonna take your car out to an abandoned area, put a body in it dressed in your clothes, and set it on fire. Everyone will think you’re dead and you’ll be safe.”

  I ignored the stab of pain at the thought of Rosé being burned. “They’ll test for DNA, fingerprints, and dental records. They’ll figure out it isn’t me.”

  She shook her head. “Not the way the body will be burned. We’re going to leave your badge and your service weapon on the seat, and make sure the tail of your shirt gets closed in the door so it survives the fire. Torch is that good at burning things.”

  I shook my head. “What about DNA, fingerprints, and dental records? I haven’t forgotten to go to the dentist once. They’ll know it’s not me.”

  “We got that covered. Neo’s changing the records to make sure the body we have will match when they run tests. It’ll be damn near charred to nothing, but we’ll leave just enough for them to match it to “you”, meaning the body. Genius, right?”

  “Maybe, but someone will recognize me if they see me walking around after. Like my boss or my old partner and it’ll get out. I can change my name, get rid of my car, and color my hair, but my face is my face.” I spread my hands. “Unless I totally disappear, someone’s gonna know.”

  “Don’t worry about the local Backlog guys, and Neo’s fixing the records, including what you look like. Eric Marshal and Cooper DeVille will have different faces in the digital world.”

  I opened my mouth to ask how, but she shook her head. “Don’t ask. You don’t want to know. As for your partner and your boss, how important are they to you?”

  Alarm zipped through me. “You’re not going to kill them.”

  “No, no.” She waved her hand, dismissing the idea. “But we do have ways of making them forget. It’s not harmful or invasive, but it is permanent. They literally won’t recognize you or your name or have any memory of their connection to you.”

  That sounded creepy as hell. How could they make someone completely forget? Did they use drugs or hypnotism?

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m not going to do anything, but Loki knows a guy.” She shrugged and refused to elaborate.

  “I shook my head. “There’s one guy I don’t want messed with. But the rest of the Denver Marshals’ office is fine. Gary Battlebourne is a good man and he might be a good contact on the inside in the future.”

  “Don’t Marshals have partners? What about them?”

  I grimaced. I still didn’t know if Anna was in with Backlog or clean. “Yeah, her too.”

  “Her?” Karma’s voice sharpened. “I didn’t know your partner was a woman.” She eyed me narrowly. “Did you ever sleep with her?”

  “No, Karma. Stop. Contrary to what Hollywood and TV likes to say, men and women can work together without having sex.” I scowled and looked away. As much as I’d liked working with Anna, I’d never been sexually attracted to her. “Would you have asked me the same question if my partner was a man?”

  She shook her head. “No, because I know you’re attracted to women.”

  “Still, give me a little credit to see my partner as a person rather than a pretty decoration.”

  “So she’s pretty?”

  I groaned and rubbed my face with my hand. “I never considered. She was my coworker, not someone I lusted after. Besides, I don’t know if she’s part of Backlog and I can’t take the chance.” I sighed. “I’m really doing this. I’m really disappearing.”

  She crouched in front of me and rested her hands on my thighs. “I know it’s an unfair change, a huge unfair change. But you’ll be getting a life back, free from Backlog, and you’ll have me, your Madam.”

  She stopped as she met my gaze, waiting for me to say something. When I didn’t, she bit her bottom lip.

  “I’m still your Madam, right?”

  Dollhouse’s words about Karma believing she’d caused this drastic change in my life came back. Part of me wanted to punish her a little for telling me to leave and ripping out my heart. But that was the childish toddler in me and I told it to go fuck itself and locked it in its room.

  “Yes, Ma’am, if you’ll allow me to serve you. No secrets.”

  “No secrets.” She nodded and pushed between my legs, resting her breasts on my groin.

  Oh yeah, my cock liked that, but I reined it in and held out my working hand. “Hi, my name’s Eric Marshal and I’m a private investigator.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Eric.” She took my hand and squeezed gently. “I’m Karma, and yes, I mean that literally. I’m the physical manifestation of the energy of consequences and I’m the Enforcer for the Concrete Angels Motorcycle Club.”

  “You’re beautiful, Karma, and I want to stay with you.” I meant the words. So much of life had thrown me out various windows with me frantically trying not to fall. I just wanted a safe place to land with people who’d have my back. Battlebourne had, but even he’d been limited by the threat of Backlog.

  “Forever?”

  I nodded, very well aware that forever could last a blink. “For how long forever lasts.”

  She rose up and wrapped her arms around me, pulling my lips to hers. Her kiss hinted at more than a simple promise, but it still felt like coming home. Maybe I’ve finally found the safe place to land.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Cooper

  It took us a few more days to organize everything so it would play out the way we wanted Backlog to think. I kept asking Karma what she was going to do about Ainsworth. He knew my face and would know the records had been changed. She just gave me an enigmatic smile and said it would be fine. A little voice in the back of my head reminded me I might not want to know what that meant.

  By then, my arm and chest no longer felt like they would fall off and break at any given moment, and I could breathe again. It made walking a helluva lot easier. Karma or Loki must have said something because the rest of the Concrete Angels stepped up to help get me ready for my dramatic ending
. Well, most of them. Scott and Numbers remained aloof, and Dollhouse worked at calming Scott down about it.

  Still, it was a lot like Spy Boot Camp. People would show up out of the blue and start a conversation with Eric, who I was supposed to be, and I’d have to respond like a normal guy. Like it was me and not a made-up identity. I screwed up a few times and they’d call me on it like the Russian KGB instructors trying to beat me into shape. I definitely learned fast.

  But I was still Marshal Cooper DeVille for my final performance and I had to make it look good. Neo had changed all my records, including my face, fingerprints, dental records, and even my DNA profile. I had no idea where they gotten the body that would be my death substitute, but I didn’t really want to know. Torch had tried to ease my mind by telling me the guy would essentially get a Viking funeral, but it didn’t really help.

  I pulled open the doors of the Fort Collins police station and strode inside, bold as brass in my US Marshal’s coat. No one noticed me until I met the desk clerk. But I gave the woman a professional smile and showed her my badge.

  “Marshal Cooper DeVille to see Commissioner Ainsworth.”

  The clerk clicked a few things on the computer. “I don’t have you on the schedule, Marshal DeVille.”

  “No, he just called me about an hour ago and said to drop by whenever.”

  The clerk frowned but nodded. “I’ll call him and tell him you’re here.”

  “Thanks.”

  We didn’t actually have an appointment but I figured my name would get me in the door. He’d probably want to know why the hell I was visiting after disappearing from the hospital almost a week before.

  I glanced around the station. No one else paid me much mind. I wondered if Backlog hadn’t infiltrated the precinct as much or if they were just good actors. We’ll find out soon enough.

  “Marshal DeVille? The Commissioner will see you now.”

  Yeah, I just bet he will. “Thanks.” I followed her to the office near the back and stepped inside, leaving the door open behind me.

  “Marshal DeVille. So good to see you. What can I do for you?” Ainsworth’s greeting was pleasant enough but his eyes glittered like a rattlesnake’s.