Greatest MC Romance Box Set

by Blair Grey

  As an idea flashed in my head, I let it come right out of my mouth, “Hell, McGinty could even get some of the Italian’s money if he said they were holding Conti for ransom. That’s an aspect we could play up when asking for this favor.”

  Danny Smith, our road captain added, “We’ll have to do them a favor as well. And then we’ll be on the hook to do at least one more favor. Doing favors for the Irish mob might not be so good for us. I can foresee housing kidnap victims. Maybe moving stolen property. Not to mention being expected to keep them in cocaine for the foreseeable future.”

  The sergeant at arms, Clyde Thomas spoke up, “And they might already have a free supply of cocaine. If they do, then what do we have to offer them?”

  I had an idea about that. “Down at the Executive Viper, Axel Rush has managed to get a good deal on alcoholic spirits from Canada. We might be able to see if we could get them a similar deal.”

  Carl nodded. “Maybe so. At least we do have some things we can offer them. We’ve got those two empty warehouses at our disposal too. We could offer up at least one of them for anything they might need to get out of New York to hide for a while. Say hot vehicles, for instance.”

  “How soon could we get that going?” I asked, knowing it had to be soon.

  Carl took a long drag off his cigar then blew the smoke out, causing it to flow over the round table like a blanket of fog. “I can see about getting a meeting with them today. But we need to move that body ourselves. We can’t ask them to do that. Taking the blame is one thing, moving bodies is another.”

  “No matter what happens, that body has to be moved and quickly,” I stated. “Any ideas about what we should do with it?”

  Leo patted me on the back. “I’ll get my team on it. Get me the address and they’ll deal with that. We don’t like to get our hands dirty unless we absolutely have to.”

  Pulling the piece of paper with the address on it out of my pocket, I slid it to him. “They will clean it up too, right?”

  “They always do.” He took the paper, folding it into a tiny square before putting it in the inside pocket of his leather jacket. “For this woman, we will get this done. A man who beats a woman ain’t really a man in my book.”

  All heads nodded in agreement. We might’ve been hard men to love, but we didn’t beat our women. Avia had come to the right man to help her. I was glad my brothers felt the same way I did about things. “Thank you all. I really appreciate this. She’s someone I’ve done wrong in the past. This will help make things right with her.”

  “I’ll let you know if I get the meeting with McGinty or not,” Carl said. “If he agrees to meet with us, Leo and I will go to New York to do the talking. Lyle, you and Clyde will be our muscle. Bring the woman to my place. I’ll have my wife, Britt, take care of her while we’re in New York. We’ve got the garage apartment. She can stay in that until we’ve got things cleared up.”

  I wasn’t going to argue with the boss about the fact that I’d already told Avia that she would be staying with me. If he thought she was safe there, then who was I to say any different?

  But then it occurred to me that McGinty might not take the meeting. “I’ll hang out at my place with her until you know about the meeting then.”

  “You do that,” Carl said then he picked up his gavel and banged it on the table. “Meeting adjourned.”

  Tossing Avia’s car keys to Lucas, I said, “Make sure this gets as far away from the East Coast as you can get it.”

  He caught the keys then put them into his pocket. “Not to worry. This car will be stripped in no time and the parts will be put into a shipping crate and the whole thing will be sent to Peru to be rebuilt and given to a tribe there.”

  “At least someone will get to enjoy the luxury car.” We walked out of the bar together and got on our hogs. “It’s in my garage. You know the code to get in.”

  “I do. No worries, Lyle.” Starting his bike, Lucas took off as I sat there for a moment, gathering my thoughts.

  I didn’t necessarily like it when things moved so fast. One minute I was enjoying a good meal, the next I was finding a woman from my past at my doorstep. Then I found out she’d killed her fiancé and needed my help with getting rid of the body. And now we were about to ask the Irish mob for a favor and sending a luxury vehicle overseas.

  A lot had happened in a matter of a few hours. That never sat well with me. Life was so quick to change. Too quick.

  Slow speed was good with me.

  Growing up, things would go from one way to another at record speed. I’d be sitting in front of the television early on a Saturday morning eating cereal, wearing my pajamas, and being just plain happy. Then my father would get up and all that would change in an instant.

  Things that changed in an instant bothered me now. I tried to make sure my life didn’t move at that fast and furious pace anymore.

  That’s why I loved riding my Harley. I didn’t have to move at the speed of light. Being part of a club full of men who also liked to move at a slower pace was like a dream come true. I fell into the MC lifestyle with such grace and ease that it seemed to be my calling.

  And then there was Avia. The woman waiting at my house. The woman who was once the girl I’d had a hard-on for pretty much my entire senior year of high school. The woman who had put my life into fast-forward motion.

  I’d gone from a guy with not much to do to a guy with plans to go to New York to be the muscle behind my president and vice-president while they made a deal with an Irish devil.

  I’d gone from a guy who didn’t have a woman living with him to a guy who had told a woman that she had to live with him if she wanted to stay alive.

  I’d rushed around to get a meeting with a bunch of men who also liked to live life the same way I did, on the slowest speed possible. And they began to rush as well.

  Avia is rushing me.

  Carl had helped me, and he hadn’t even known he’d done it. I didn’t have to keep Avia at my home. She would be perfectly safe in Carl’s garage apartment.

  I still have control of my life.

  Riding my bike back home, I made sure to take in the sights. Smell the roses along the way. Slow things down.

  Pulling into the drive, I remembered that I had to get out of the way of Avia’s car that someone would soon come to get. So, I went around the side of the house to park in the backyard, instead of my garage – where I kept the most important thing in my life – my bike.

  It’s just temporary. Calm down.

  Turning off the engine, I actually felt the frown on my face and tried hard to at least pull it into an expression of mediocrity. That’s when I heard the sound of a woman crying.

  Crying wasn’t a strong enough word for what I heard. Wailing. Sobbing. Dying. That’s what it sounded like.

  She’s breaking down.

  Rushing in through the back door, I went through the kitchen, into the living room and right past my home bar. Slowing down as I thought about grabbing myself a beer out of the minifridge to aid in my efforts to calm Avia, I shook my head. “No, Lyle.”

  My steps slowed as I went down the hallway. She’d done something she had never done before. She’d killed a person. And it was a person who had hurt her many times before. Even though she hadn’t meant to do it, a part of her had to be happy that she had done it.

  Leaning my shoulder against the doorframe outside the bathroom, I waited. Her cries were guttural, primal, and they came from her soul.

  I couldn’t let her lose any more of herself than she already had. Knocking softly, I asked, “You okay?” I knew she wasn’t okay, but I had no idea what else to say.

  “I – I… can’t,” that was all she got out before the sobbing started up again.

  This was not my forte. Helping women out with their emotions wasn’t a thing I did. I did not deal with crying at all.

  Crying is for the weak.

  But this was a different kind of crying. This was the kind that screamed that a perso
n was losing their minds. Avia was losing her mind. And I was it. I was the only person in the entire world who she felt comfortable enough with, to come to for help.

  That’s the saddest shit I’ve ever heard.

  Me? If all she had was me, then she was so alone that it wasn’t even funny.

  When I tried the doorknob, I found she hadn’t locked it. So, I went inside, covering my eyes. “I’m not looking, I swear. But I can’t leave you in here like this.” Reaching for the spot I always left my towel in, I grabbed it and tossed it to her. “Cover up. I’m going to carry you out of here.”

  “Don’t,” she whimpered. “Just leave me here to die. I’m not worth your trouble. I – killed -someone. I’m a horrible person. I am going to hell.”

  “Well, you’ll be in good company when you get there then. I’ll be there too.” I turned off the ice-cold water. The towel I’d tossed in barely covered her. I tried not to look as I tucked the soaked towel around her then picked her up. “So will a lot of other people. Either that, or we’ll all be meeting in Heaven. Who knows? Who cares?”

  Burying her face in my chest, she ran her arms around my shoulders. “I care. I don’t want to go to hell. I never meant to hurt anyone, much less kill someone.”

  “He deserved it. Someone was bound to kill him anyway. Plus, I have to believe that when you accidentally kill someone, it doesn’t really count.” I put her down on my bed then pulled the blanket to up to cover her before I slipped the wet towel off her.

  “It does count. I know it does.” Her black hair clung to her pale face. The bruises, now visible as her makeup no longer covered them, marred otherwise perfect skin.

  Grazing her black and blue cheek, I knew her pain all too well. “No, it doesn’t. He was a bad man. God doesn’t fault you for ending the life of a bad person. Whether they hurt you or others, God won’t fault you for what you’ve done.”

  I don’t know when I became an expert on what God did and did not fault, but there I was, speaking like he and I had talks regularly.

  Those green eyes, even when rimmed red and swollen, still did things to me without her even trying to entice me. “Lyle, are they going to let you help me?”

  “Yeah.” Moving my thumb along the yellow line along her cheekbone where an older bruise lingered, my heart ached. “It’s going to be okay. No one is ever going to hurt you again. Not if I can help it.”

  Clutching the blanket, she sighed as her eyes closed. “I know this might sound insane, but could you come lay with me? You on top of the blanket but cuddling me from behind. Just holding me – making me feel safe.”

  Stepping out of my boots, I climbed into the bed behind her. I wanted her to feel safe. I wanted things to slow down. I wanted to hold her. “I can do that for you.”

  Nuzzling her neck, I took a deep breath. Her hair no longer smelled like VO5 shampoo. It smelled like coconut and spearmint. But I still liked the aroma. Even more than that, I liked the way our bodies fit together like puzzle pieces.

  Her body went limp and soft snores met my ears. A more beautiful sound, I could not recall. I’d never felt so relaxed.

  With everything finally calming down, I thought I might be able to handle this thing with her without turning into a jackass. She needed me to be better than that.

  She needs me to be better for her.

  Chapter Eight

  Avia

  Warm air stirred my hair as a deep voice whispered, “I’ve got to go to New York. You need to get up so I can take you to stay with my boss’ wife while I’m gone.”

  I felt lost – completely lost. “Where am I?” I sat up, my body stiff, my head aching. And that’s when it all rushed back to me. “Oh. Never mind, Lyle. I know where I am.” Yawning, I stretched my arms. “You’re going to New York? You sure you don’t need me to come with you?”

  “I don’t want you anywhere near that city right now. We’ve got a pretty great plan that should get you off the hook with your fiancé’s mafia buddies. We’re going to meet with McGinty.” I watched as Lyle pulled his leather motorcycle boots on. He’d taken off his shirt and his muscles rippled along his washboard abs.

  Heat pooled between my legs and that’s when I realized that not only was I naked, the blanket had fallen off my breasts when I’d stretched my arms.

  Pulling it back up, I felt my cheeks heating with embarrassment. But Lyle hadn’t said a thing about my exposed tits. “I don’t suppose you’d mind getting my bags and bringing them in here for me, would you?”

  “Sure, I’ll grab them for you.” Leaving the room, he grabbed a t-shirt off the chair by the door and slipped it on, covering up his amazing torso.

  My eyes never left the door as my heart pounded. I’d never found Lyle attractive before. This was new to me. It reminded me of the time that I accidentally ate a hamburger with mustard on it and loved it. I couldn’t shut up about how delicious the thing was. And right before I took the last bite, I pulled the bun off and saw the yellow mustard I had always hated.

  Hating something for such a long time, then suddenly loving it felt odd. But in a very good way. Like I was growing as a person.

  Not that I loved Lyle. But I did find myself liking him. He was becoming a hero of sorts to me with all he was doing for me. I supposed it was natural to think nice thoughts about your hero. Maybe it was even sort of natural to be sexually attracted to your hero. I really had no idea since I’d never had one before.

  My father certainly wasn’t one. My mother had told me that she and he were an on and off thing. When she told him that she was pregnant, she thought he would at least do right by me and give me his attention if nothing else. But he ran off. He ran so far away that Mom didn’t even know where he’d gone to.

  Falling in with Jerome had to have come from daddy issues. Not only was he twelve years older than me, but he was also dominating.

  If only I would’ve had a father in my life, maybe I might not be in this situation right now.

  I was certain that I wouldn’t have even hooked up with Jerome if I’d had a father who had raised me. Good dads did not let their daughters date men in the mafia.

  Good mothers didn’t either. Mom’s death had left me to make my own decisions. So far, they’d been poor ones.

  Except for coming to Lyle Franklin for help. That might’ve been the best decision I’ve made so far.

  Bringing in the two Gucci bags I’d brought with me, he put them on the bed. “Here you go. Get yourself dressed then I’ll take you to meet Brittany, my MC president’s wife. She’s around our age. Plus, she had a father who was probably even a bigger monster than your fiancé was. She might be able to help you out – you know, mentally.”

  With my eyes locked on one spot of the bed in front of me, I nodded. “Yeah, I could use some mental help right about now.”

  “Yeah.” He chewed on his lower lip. “So, I’ll be in the living room waiting. You’ll get to ride on my bike. Consider yourself lucky. Not many girls get to ride in my bitch seat.”

  A smile crept over my lips as another round of heat flooded my nether regions. “I feel lucky already.” I felt super lucky that I’d packed my Saint Laurent skinny leather jeans.

  At least my luggage was filled with expensive clothing and shoes – even if I could never afford another expensive thing for the rest of my life. Which, I hoped would not be the case.

  It may have seemed shallow of me to want to get to keep the money in my bank account. But I had nothing else and no one else to help me until I got a job and could get on my feet.

  If I had to start from scratch, it would be incredibly hard. And I’d found out that I didn’t like to do hard things. Not that anyone really did, but I would take the easy way out over the hard way, pretty much every time I had the chance to.

  After putting on my black, leather jeans, some black heels, and a white blouse, I pulled my hair back into a ponytail then took my makeup bag out to fix my face.

  The bruises on my face glared back at me through th
e mirror. “I won’t be seeing any of you guys anymore.” With a sigh, I began the process of caking on the makeup until no more black, blue, or yellow showed up on my face.

  When a knock came to the door, I knew Lyle was losing patience with my hour-long process of getting myself presentable. “Avia, we really need to get going, baby. I don’t mean to rush you, but I’ve got men waiting on me.”

  “Give me five more minutes, please.” My eyes weren’t done yet.

  When he opened the door, his eyes went wide as he looked me up and down. “Uh. You look. Um. Well, very – sexy. You look sexy as hell, Avia. Hot. Great.” He moved his hand to cover his cock that had begun to make the front of his faded blue jeans bulge. “Sorry. I know this isn’t the time to say things like that.”

  “Thank you.” I put on one fake eyelash and caught him frowning as he watched me do it.

  “You don’t need that fake shit. You’re good without it.” He crossed his ankles and his arms over his chest as he leaned against the door, looking damn sexy himself. “Leave the eyelashes off. I get that you don’t want anyone to see the bruises. But you don’t need all that other crap on your already pretty face.”

  Looking at him with the one eyelash on and one off, I shrugged. “I’ve got to put the other one on now. If I take this one off, it’ll mess up my makeup and I’ll have to start all over. But I’ll do it if you want me to.”

  His brow furrowed as he looked me in the eyes. “Avia, go ahead and do what you intended to do in the first place. You know what? I’m sorry that I put my two cents in. You didn’t ask me for my opinion anyway.” He turned to leave then stopped and turned back around. “And one more thing, baby. You do you. You do you any damn way you want to. Don’t let me or any other mother fucker tell you how to do anything.” And then he left.

  He’d also left me speechless. After I put on the other eyelash, I looked at myself in the mirror. “Well, we are going to see what I really want to look like, Avia Forester. As Lyle has so eloquently put it, I don’t need to let anyone tell me how to do me.”