Zeke (Devil's Flame MC Book 2)

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Zeke (Devil's Flame MC Book 2) Page 12

by Romi Hart


  She thought back to the day she’d gotten so upset about him flirting with the temporary physical therapist and realized he hadn’t flirted with anyone since. He even made a conscious effort not to be the least bit flirtatious with their waitresses when they went out, which had to be a genuine effort. After all, it was part of his personality. And when she’d expressed her fear of Rory catching his attention, he’d genuinely pushed it aside.

  Any of those situations would have been a complete disaster and not only enraged her but fueled her distrust, had it been Chris and not Zeke. In fact, she had the impression that any man she dated, aside from Zeke, would have inspired doubt with those antics. And if she’d even given anyone else a chance to rectify the situation, she didn’t think she would have found their efforts genuine.

  She’d never asked Zeke to rein in his philandering. He’d done it, she assumed, for her comfort, to make her see he had no machinations on hurting her that way.

  He’d even apologized for failure to communicate over the last week. But not before expressing how much he missed her.

  Leigh’s chest felt tight, and a tear formed in one eye, threatening to roll down her face. She blinked it away, but she couldn’t take a deep breath, as if someone had bound it with steel. She forced herself to relax. The last thing she needed right now was to go into a panic attack. That would be absolutely ridiculous.

  When she finally inhaled, long and deep, she blew the air out slowly. “Oh, god,” she whispered on a breath.

  Alarm written all over her face, Rory turned to her. “What? What is it, Leigh? Are you alright?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t know.” She swiped at her eye, which had grown moist again. The emotions swirling inside her were too much. Her stomach churned, her chest still felt like it might explode, her head felt light, and despite the heaviness in her chest and stomach, she felt like she might float away. “Twitterpated,” she muttered.

  “What?” Rory scowled, confused.

  Laughing softly to herself, Leigh shook her head. “Twitterpated. Like in Bambi.”

  “What are you talking about? You’re worrying me.”

  “I’m terrifying myself,” Leigh told her softly, wrapping her arms around herself in a hug, trying to comfort the scared girl that lived inside. “’You begin to get weak in the knees. Your head’s in a whirl. And then you feel light as a feather. And before you know it, you’re walking on air.’” At Rory’s blank expression, she said, “You really should look it up on YouTube.”

  “Maybe you could just tell me what it means.”

  Sighing, Leigh nearly choked on the words and her fear of them. “I’m in love with Zeke.”

  13

  This had maybe been the longest week of Zeke’s life. His meeting with Dan had gone well, and it hadn’t taken long for Corey and the president of the Reapers MC to come to an agreement. And then they’d managed to start contacting several other clubs.

  Zeke hadn’t expected Corey and Rafe to snatch him up and bring him along for the ride while they went to three other MCs that had shaky dealings with the Ravens, working out some agreements that might be enough to actually finish the Ravens for good. He hadn’t had a chance to explain to Leigh what was going on, and he knew he couldn’t give her enough details anyway, but he hadn’t meant to go an entire week without communicating.

  Worse, she was on his mind the entire trip, distracting him when he should have been paying attention to meetings and negotiations. He felt guilty for not contacting her, which made his chest ache. That had him concerned about his own feelings for her and what he was supposed to do about it.

  Frankly, he’d lost interest in other women completely, which he found out the hard way. As a courtesy, the other MCs brought in women, who were more than mildly eager to get into bed with Zeke and his brothers. But Corey was the only one open. The minute another woman touched him, Zeke wanted to throw them across the room. Rafe, who was a little more accustomed to being with one woman now, politely let them down, but Zeke couldn’t keep from angrily shaking his head and shrugging them off.

  Now, he was finally close to home, and he considered going straight to Leigh’s apartment, needing to touch her, to feel her and reassure himself that she was real. He was getting too bogged down with her, tied up in a relationship he’d never expected, and the truth was, he liked it. But he didn’t like this craving that never seemed sated.

  His jaw twitched as he realized she would be at work for another three or four hours. He considered showing up there, but he was a mess. He needed a shower and a shave. Maybe even a haircut at this point. And definitely a change of clothes. He glanced at Rafe, thinking he might ask for advice. Then again, Rafe was probably even more eager to get to Kira.

  No, he’d go into the clubhouse and clean up, wash off the stank of the road, and then he’d go get something to eat to settle his stomach and nerves. He didn’t know what had him on edge, but something was bothering him. He didn’t want that plaguing him when he did see Leigh. He needed his wits about him so he could better analyze what the hell he felt for her.

  Love was such a strong word, he thought, wanting to avoid it at all costs. But he didn’t just ‘like’ her. He wanted her, wanted to be with her all the time, and felt connected to her. He’d never had that with a woman, and he certainly didn’t feel like any other woman made him a better man.

  But was that the definition of love?

  Slamming into the bunkroom and digging out fresh clothes, he headed into the bathroom and scrubbed himself clean of the filth covering his body, shaving his scruff and then looking in the mirror. Yes, he needed a haircut, and he’d have to stop at the barber shop on the way into town. He wasn’t going to see Leigh for the first time in over a week looking like a piece of trash dragged in off the street. He didn’t intend to get dolled up, but he wanted to be his best self.

  As he barreled out of the bathroom, anxious to run his errands and surprise Leigh at the hospital when she got off, Zeke nearly collided with Rafe. “I thought you’d be home with Kira right now,” he said.

  Rafe shook his head. “She’s at a big family to-do. I’m not going to interrupt. You look better.”

  Zeke grunted. “I’ve got to get a haircut.”

  But Rafe scowled. “No, just use a little gel. Comb it back, and it’ll spike up. It’ll be a good look for you. It’ll save you time, if you’re in a hurry,” he added with a knowing grin.

  With a shrug, Zeke took the suggestion, and it worked out fine. He approved of his appearance in the mirror, slipped into his cut, and tore out to the parking lot. He stopped for fuel and then went to the diner. He didn’t feel like seeking out food, and he knew he could fill up his gut quick and easy here. He felt like he hadn’t eaten all week, and what he had was mostly greasy pit stops or fast food. He was a meat and potatoes guy, but that didn’t mean fatty burgers and soggy fries every day.

  “Ezekiel Austin.”

  Zeke paused with his forkful of egg salad halfway to his mouth. The words were spoken by someone behind him, but he didn’t turn around. He didn’t know who it was, but he wasn’t going to give this guy the satisfaction of looking shaken. He waited, hearing multiple pairs of boots shuffle across the floor, until the speaker came into view.

  And then it took all his will power not to pull his gun and put a bullet through his forehead. “Gomez Dominguez.” Zeke all but snarled at him. “You realize you’re in Flames territory without permission. You and your minions might want to take it into advisement that it’s a very poor idea to be here.”

  “Don’t worry. We won’t be here long. Not if you listen carefully.” Uninvited, Gomez slipped into the booth across from him, one of his lackeys pulling up a chair to straddle next to the table and the other standing behind him with his arms crossed, as if his pig belly and crooked nose were intimidating. Zeke could have taken all three before the fucking waitress called 9-1-1.

  But it didn’t seem like a good idea, under the circumstances. “What do you want, Gomez
? You interrupted my lunch, and I don’t appreciate that. I had a very healthy appetite, and now it’s gone. In fact, you’ve got exactly two minutes to say your piece before I puke all over you.”

  Gomez laughed, his greasy hair falling forward, but there was no humor in the ugly sound. “It’s simple, Austin. You think you and your boys can just have secret meetings with my allies and try to steal them from me?”

  Fuck. They had a leak. At least Gomez had the wrong idea about the purpose of the meetings. “We’re just keeping up truces, Gomez. You should try it sometime, rather than bullying everyone into working with you or for you against their will.”

  “Don’t give me pointers on running my club, asshole,” Gomez said, his smile fading.

  Chuckling, Zeke held up his hands in surrender. “Never that, pal. It’s not like I’m in charge of anything. Which brings me back to my previous question. What do you want? I think it’s time to make your point.”

  “It’s simple, really. Your club has agreements to work security for every other organization in this godforsaken state except ours.”

  “That’s a bit generous, Gomez. We aren’t that popular.” Zeke knew better than to goad this crazy son of a bitch, but he couldn’t help himself. Something was off, and he needed to see if he could figure out what was going on. Maybe, if he pushed enough buttons, Gomez would forget himself and give him the name of the leak.

  Slamming his fist on the table and splashing coffee out of the mug in front of Zeke, Gomez leaned forward. “Shut up and listen, Austin. Your life and the life of that little tart you’ve been hauling around on that bike of yours depend on it.” Instantly, Zeke stiffened. How did the Ravens know about Leigh? Had they been following him? He’d been so distracted over his feelings for her he hadn’t been paying enough attention. He wanted to kick his own ass, but he needed to be completely focused now, if he was going to keep his promise and keep Leigh safe.

  “Okay, tell me.”

  Gomez laughed again, the sound grating down Zeke’s spine. “I see I have your attention.” He reached into an inner pocket of his cut and pulled out a photo, laying it on the table for Zeke to see. It was one of him with Leigh, her arms around his neck as he bent to kiss her. It had been taken in front of the hospital, and as he considered it more closely, he thought it was maybe two weeks ago, before they’d gone back to her apartment.

  Damn, that meant if someone was following him, they surely knew where she lived. Gomez put it away and folded his hands, like he was a civilized human rather than a rabid animal. “You look very cozy with her. And I’m guessing you care about her. So listen good, my friend. I’m not going to give up any of my allies to you. And they all know it. But I’m also looking to make more friends. You can never have too many friends these days.”

  Zeke narrowed his eyes. “What does that have to do with me? If you’re looking to negotiate some sort of agreement with the Devil’s Flames, you need to talk to my president, not me. And I guarantee you, he’ll chew up your offer and spit it back in your hand.” More likely, Corey would spit in Gomez’s face, but he wasn’t going to take this conversation to that level. Still, with the ambush and the way the Ravens had double crossed them, there was no way Corey would even mull over a relationship with the club.

  “That’s where you come in, Austin,” Gomez told him. “You have the ear of your president. And you have a weakness now.”

  Knowing he had to play this carefully, Zeke laughed. “You think she’s important to me? Sorry to break it to you, but I’ve been laid up since you and the Kings fucked up my leg. It’s been a little difficult to go chasing skirts with my bum knee. Wining and dining the one woman I can manage right now, who happens to be incredible in bed, guarantees I get laid on a regular basis till I’m back in commission.”

  Leaning back in the seat and crossing his arms, Gomez stared at him. “That sounds more like your reputation. But I’m not sure I believe you, Austin. That’s okay, though. We’ll find out.” Sitting forward again, he pointed an ugly finger at Zeke’s chest. “You have two days, my friend. If you or your president haven’t gotten in touch with me and my men by then, your little piece of ass is mine.”

  He got up and headed toward the door without another word, and one of his cronies dropped a business card before both of them followed. Zeke didn’t move. He didn’t reach for the card, didn’t eat or drink, and didn’t even breathe until all three bikes were out of sight around a curve in the road. Then, he slammed his palm against the table and threw down enough for an enormous tip and got up.

  How the hell had he not heard them ride up? And how could he have missed a tail, over and over again? The picture, the way Gomez knew he’d been seeing Leigh on a regular basis, told him he’d been followed for some time. He had no excuse for his inattention to detail. He knew better than this. And worst of all, he now had put not only his club but the woman he was growing to care about in danger, something he’d sworn never to do.

  He paced the parking lot next to his bike for several minutes, trying to decide what he was going to do. All he could think about was how he’d told Leigh that no harm would come to her, that she was perfectly safe with him. And now, she was in more danger than ever because of him.

  He checked the time. He still couldn’t get to her. She wouldn’t be off for at least two hours, maybe three. He had to get her the protection she needed, but he also had to warn his MC. He’d just gotten back less than two hours ago, and Corey and Rafe were probably both napping. He hated to bother them, but how could he hold this in? There was no telling what Gomez was going to demand. And who the hell had given them away?

  He needed to message Dan, too, get word to the Reapers. He had a feeling it wasn’t them. It had taken too long to get back to Gomez. Making a snap decision, he texted Dan and climbed on his bike, revving the engine and tearing out of the parking lot, headed back to the clubhouse. He rushed inside and was grateful to find his brothers relaxing with a beer and not asleep in their bunks.

  “We need to talk. In private.” He kept walking, not waiting for them to follow, as he went into the conference room, pacing as they joined him and shut the door.

  “What’s going on, Zeke?” Rafe asked. The tension in his voice matched the stress in Zeke’s shoulders, and Corey’s dark expression wasn’t any better.

  Quickly, Zeke reiterated the encounter with Gomez, barely pausing as Corey kicked over a chair in anger and Rafe cursed under his breath several times. “We have to find out who the leak is,” Zeke finished. “And I have to find a way to protect Leigh.”

  “Will she come stay here until this is cleared up?” Rafe asked.

  That had worked with Kira, but she was different. Kira had grown up with the MC life. Leigh had just come around to it, and he didn’t think it was a good idea. “I don’t want to scare her off. I can’t tell her what’s going on. She’ll freak out. I’ve worked hard to show her we’re not trouble, but this goes against everything I’ve convinced her of.”

  “Just try,” Corey told him. “Go, find her, and tell her you need her safe. We’ll even put a couple of the prospects on her when she goes to work every day to watch her.”

  Zeke appreciated that, but he doubted it would work. “And what are we going to do about the rest of it?”

  “If Gomez thinks he can strongarm me into an alliance, he really has lost it,” Corey spit out. “I’m calling Dylan, and between us and the Kings, we’re going to find out who spilled the info and make sure they pay for it.”

  Zeke started for the door, sick to his stomach now. “Two days, Corey. That’s all we’ve got to figure this out.” They were all tired, but they couldn’t rest. Too much depended on it.

  As he headed for the hospital, no longer willing to wait, Zeke weighed several options. But he knew what he had to do. There was only one solution that would keep Leigh truly safe, for good. He could scare the shit out of her, convince her to stay at the clubhouse. But that would put a strain on their relationship. And how many times
would she suffer that? How many chances would she give him before she decided that it was all too much?

  And he couldn’t leave her completely in the dark, going on with business as usual. No, he had to take drastic measures, prove his point to Gomez. He had to show that she wasn’t important to him, and as much as that made him want to vomit, it was the only thing he could do. He was bad news, and he couldn’t see it any other way.

  If he kept at this, kept getting it in his head that he deserved something this good, he’d hang onto Leigh permanently. And if he did that, he’d ultimately be nothing but trouble in her life, just as she assumed from the start. How could he have been so blind? She’d been right the whole time. The MC life wasn’t for her. She deserved so much better.

  Knowing Gomez probably had men watching, Zeke figured the best way to do this would be very publicly. It would let everyone know he and Leigh weren’t together. And having an audience would also hold him to his resolve. He wouldn’t back down, and she couldn’t seduce him back to bed and change his mind.

  He stormed inside and smashed the button on the elevator, almost disappointed that it opened so quickly. But he wasn’t going to lose his resolve. He rode up to the eighth floor far too quickly and stood around near the nurses’ station until he spotted her. She came bustling out of a patient room with a smile, those damn scrubs hugging her like they had the first time he saw her, and she met his eyes with surprise and delight all over her face. She moved faster toward him and wrapped her arms around his neck in greeting. “Welcome back,” she told him.

  He gave her a smile that reflected the pain he felt and knew it was probably a good thing this was hard for him. It would sell it better because she’d read it as him not wanting to be here at all. An assumption that couldn’t be further from the truth. All he wanted to do was strap her to him to assure nothing bad would ever happen to her again.

  She looked at him and frowned. He could see the panic working its way into her eyes and wanted to kiss it away. But he couldn’t. He hated having to be the one to hurt her. He didn’t want to be that guy. He wanted to be the one to bring her joy. At the same time, he hadn’t asked her to care about him as much as he saw she did. It was in her posture, in her expression, in the way she gazed at him.

 

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