by Chelle Bliss
James adjusts in his seat, leaning forward, holding the steering wheel with one hand. “The Director and I go way back. We have a history together. He told me what he could about the case, why they hauled you in for questioning, and what they’re hoping to gain.”
“I don’t have anything to offer.” I shrug, placing my elbow on the door, resting my head in my palm because I’m so exhausted, I’m fighting to stay awake in the darkness.
“They told me about your mom,” James says softer, his voice laced with sorrow. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Gigi gasps behind me, and I straighten. “Oh my God. Pike, I’m so sorry.” Her voice wavers like she’s on the verge of tears, but there’s no time for crying.
I ignore her, because there’s more pressing shit than fretting over a woman who gave no shits about me. “I’m worried about Gigi and anyone who’s around me right now. I could use your help in figuring out what my next move should be, sir.”
“Why are you worried about me?”
This time, James ignores her. “We have a lot to figure out and not a lot of time to do it. For the time being, the safest place for the two of you is at my house. You’ll stay there until we know what we’re dealing with. Got it?” James raises up, looking in the rearview mirror as we wait at a traffic light. “You hear me, Giovanna? I don’t want any lip either.”
Fan-fucking-tastic.
The night just went from bad to clusterfucked beyond belief.
15
Gigi
I yawn for what might be the hundredth time in the thirty-minute drive home from the FBI headquarters. To say I’m tired is an understatement. I don’t remember being this exhausted in my entire life. I never even pulled an all-nighter studying for college exams.
I’ve sat in relative silence as James and Pike talked around me, ignoring my every comment like I wasn’t talking or even in the same car with them. They are both infuriating, cut from the same manly cloth, and it’s annoying as hell.
“Be ready for the real grilling to start,” James says as he pulls into the drive and his headlights land on Aunt Izzy.
She’s pacing back and forth in the driveway, her head coming up as she’s bathed in light from the car. The look on her face isn’t friendly or even playful, but serious as a fucking heart attack and like she’s ready to pounce at any second.
“Well, this should be fun,” I mumble and wonder if I should’ve called Uncle Thomas instead. But I know Angel is shit at keeping secrets, and right now, I needed silence.
“Just let her say what she needs to say, answer what she wants to know, and you’ll live to see the sunrise,” James says, trying to make light of what totally isn’t a funny situation.
I drag my hands down my face, trying to clear my mind and wake myself up for what’s probably going to be hours of explaining and getting my ass chewed out.
“You handle your aunt while Pike and I talk in my office,” James tells me as he cuts the engine and unlocks the car doors.
“Handle her?” I cackle, feeling loopy from exhaustion. “You know that’s an impossibility, right?”
James’s eyes slice to mine. “You’re exactly like your aunt, kid. You two think alike. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were her daughter. You know how she thinks, so handle her. Tell her what you want, leave out what you can, and then get your ass to sleep.” James turns toward the door as Izzy raps her fingers against the window before throwing her arms up in a what the fuck kind of way.
“I think I’m getting the better end of this deal,” Pike says as he pushes open his door, climbs out, and pulls the lever to let me out of the crazy-small back seat.
“You so did,” I whisper, brushing up against him as I crawl out, almost smacking my head before I find my footing. “I’ll find you when you’re done.”
“You two better get your asses inside. You have a lot of explaining to do,” Izzy announces before I’ve even stood straight and stretched my legs.
“I have a feeling I’m going to be done before you, darlin’,” Pike says as the corner of his mouth quirks up.
I scowl because there’s nothing even remotely amusing about the entire situation. From Pike being hauled downtown, the fact that his mother is dead and I have no fucking clue how or why, and that my aunt and uncle are now all up in my shit and Pike’s too.
“Sweetheart,” James says, grabbing Izzy by the waist and hauling her body against his. “Go easy on the kid. She’s had a long, stressful night. She’s tired.”
Izzy glances at me over James’s shoulder. “Good. She’ll break easier that way.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “I’ll tell you everything, Auntie, if you just let me sleep for a little while.”
“Fat chance, missy. March your pretty little ass in the kitchen, and we’ll have some coffee while we talk about all the shit you’ve left out.”
Pike squeezes my hand, peering down at me. “Tell her what you want, Gigi. I have nothing else to hide. I’m pretty sure my ass is going to be fired anyway.”
“Why?” I furrow my eyebrows as I glance up at him, my mouth hanging open.
“No one wants trouble coming to their door, especially from someone they don’t know and just hired. Go with her. It’ll all be better in the morning.”
“Find me, okay? Promise me,” I plead.
Pike nods, releasing my hand and pushing me toward my aunt. “Go.”
Izzy’s out of James’s arms and around the Challenger within seconds, stalking toward me like a woman possessed. “Stop wasting time,” she says, reaching for my arm and hauling me away from Pike like I’m a little girl again.
I glance over my shoulder, mouthing “I’m sorry” to Pike as I follow my aunt up the stairs to the front door of their house. He only waves, giving me a small smile like this is just another day and not one where his mother dies and his life may be at risk.
“Sit,” Izzy says before I’m two steps into the kitchen, pointing at a chair near the island. “Coffee or water?”
“Coffee.” I slump over, wishing she’d just give me a pillow and one hour to get a little sleep. But I know my aunt, and she ain’t giving me nothing until I give her something in return.
She pours the coffee, her back to me, and I can almost hear her thoughts and the line of questioning she’s about to hurl at me.
“Before we start.” I clear my throat, staring at her back, wishing like fuck I was anywhere but here. “Can you not tell my dad?”
Izzy sighs, placing the coffee carafe back on the warmer. “They already know.”
I gasp, eyes widening, and suddenly feel more awake than I ever have in my entire life. “What?”
“There was an agent waiting at your parents’ house when he got home from the bar tonight. He knows Pike was hauled in for questioning. But we left some things out like the fact that you called James in a complete panic, begging for someone to help a guy you claim to hate.”
“I don’t hate him,” I mumble, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to figure out how to crawl out of this miserable mess.
“I know, baby girl,” she says, sliding the coffee cup in front of me. “I used to look at your uncle James the same way. Girl,” she laughs, shaking her head as she leans across the counter, facing me. “That man had me all kinds of crazy and my head all twisted.”
I laugh because she says that like she’s normal now and Uncle James’s effect has worn off. He’s the only man who can shut my aunt up when she’s on a tirade, which is more often than not, especially lately.
“So, start at the beginning and tell me how you know Pike.” She pins me with her gaze, and I swallow the lump that suddenly forms in my throat.
I glance down at the mug, wrapping my hands around the warm ceramic, wondering just how far back I should go and how detailed I should be. I’m not about to get graphic with my aunt because she’s my aunt and I sure as fuck don’t ask about her sex life, even if I have heard about it.
“Well…
” I pause, stalling but knowing she would wait an eternity to hear the answer. “I met him last year.”
Her eyes flash. “Where?”
“In Daytona.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
“No, smartass. When were you in Daytona? I don’t remember you ever mentioning it to anyone.”
I shift, squirming in the chair because Tamara and I swore each other to secrecy and hadn’t broken our promise for fear of our parents flipping the fuck out. “We went there for spring break,” I squeak, cringing at my voice and the look that shifts across my aunt’s face.
“You went to Daytona for spring break last year?”
“Yeah.” I nod slowly, holding her steely gaze.
“In March?”
I nod again because I figure there’s nothing else I need to say, and I know more questions are coming.
She moves her coffee mug to the side, flattening her palms against the cold granite countertop. “Wasn’t that Bike Week?”
I nod again, biting on my lip to stop myself from saying anything more.
“Are you fucking stupid, little girl?”
I shake my head, figuring words aren’t necessary and knowing she is going to say enough for the both of us.
“You went to Daytona for spring break, which just happened to be Bike Week, alone, and didn’t bother to tell anyone?” She sucks in a breath, looking like her head is about to pop off. “Do you know how goddamn dangerous that was?”
“I wasn’t alone,” I whisper, staring back down at my mug as I play with the handle.
“You were with Tamara, weren’t you?” she says flatly because usually, wherever I go, Tamara isn’t too far behind. We’re a package deal especially since Lily decided to go to Miami instead of FSU like Tam and me.
I nod again.
Izzy pushes away from the countertop, cursing into the air as she starts to pace again. “Of all the stupid shit you two could do…”
“We were safe. We made it back in one piece. Nothing bad happened, Auntie.”
“Thank fuck,” she blurts out, stopping on her heel and spinning her body to face me. “I’ve been to Bike Week. That shit ain’t no joke, Gigi.”
“You went there?” I ask, fascinated that my aunt ventured into the biker world, but I shouldn’t be surprised. She did end up married to one of the most badass men I’ve ever known besides my father. “To Bike Week?”
“I was almost raped at Bike Week. If it weren’t for your uncle Thomas and uncle James, I don’t know what would’ve happened to me.” She hangs her head for a moment and takes a deep breath. “But I was older and should’ve been wiser. You weren’t even twenty-one yet, and Tamara isn’t even twenty-one now, so explain to me what the fuck you two were doing at Bike Week?”
“Lying on the beach.” I don’t even believe my own shit because my voice rises like I’m asking a question instead of stating a fact. Dead giveaway and my aunt doesn’t miss a fucking beat.
“Gigi,” she says flatly. “Stop the bullshit. Lay it out, and I want the truth.”
“We went for spring break, but we honestly didn’t know it was Bike Week when we planned the trip. We found out as we pulled into town and noticed all hell had broken loose and everyone was covered in leather and tattoos.”
“Even if you didn’t know it was Bike Week, why did you lie about going to Daytona in the first place?”
I shrug. “We figured Dad would get pissed and Uncle Anthony would throw a fit, so we just thought it would be easier.”
Izzy chuckles softly, and I almost think she’s going to let it drop, maybe let me go to sleep, but I’m dead wrong. “You should always let someone know where you are. You could’ve at least told me. A place like that at a time like that was risky, and you’re lucky you two made it out unscathed.”
“Yeah. I know that now.” I’m trying to pacify her. “I’ll never do it again.”
“And how does Pike fit into—” she clears her throat “—lying on the beach in Daytona?”
“We ran into each other there,” I lie and lift the mug to my lips, hoping to cover some of my face so she doesn’t know I’m still not telling her the entire truth.
She straightens, crossing her arms in front of her as she stands there in a black tank top and yoga pants, her hair pulled into a tight, high ponytail. “So, you two ran into each other and then you looked like you saw a ghost when you ran into him again?” She narrows her eyes. “You think I’m going to believe that line of horseshit?”
“It’s not horseshit,” I mumble into my mug, staring at the black liquid because meeting her eyes is a little too much, especially when she’s ready to start frothing at the mouth.
“You know the man better than just a quick passing hello. I wasn’t born yesterday, Gigi. You better start telling me the truth, or I’ll tell Joe about Daytona.”
My eyes widen. “You wouldn’t.”
She drops a shoulder, a grin playing on her lips. “Sweetheart, I’ll do whatever I need to do. It won’t be my ass getting chewed out by him when he finds out.”
I groan, knowing I’m not handling Izzy, but she sure as shit is handling me. Like a pro too. “Fine, we did more than run into each other.”
“Did you drink together?”
“A little.” I wince.
“Did he know you were underage?”
I shake my head. “We had fake IDs.”
Izzy closes her eyes, pressing her fingers against her temples and rubbing. “Motherfucker,” she whispers, drawing in a loud breath. “How many drinks did you have with Pike?”
“Which time?” I try to be funny even though I was also being honest.
She twists her mouth. “Stop being a smartass.”
I shrug again. “The first night I met him, I think I had one drink.”
“So, you weren’t drunk?”
“Well…” I give her a nervous smile. “I may have been drinking before I met him. I said I only had one drink with him.”
“On a scale of one to ten, ten being black-out drunk, where were you?”
“Before the drink with him or after?”
“For fuck’s sake,” she says, shaking her head, cursing again under her breath. “After you had the drink with him.”
“A nine. I remember everything except for passing out, which I did because tequila.” I laugh, trying to break the tension in the room, thinking Izzy will laugh because she’s usually the fun one in my family.
She pulls her lips into her mouth, closing her eyes again, and groans. Clearly, I was wrong about the funny, and my aunt’s sense of humor died somewhere between earlier tonight—or was that yesterday?—and right now. “You passed out with him, or were you with Tamara?” She’s leaning over the counter, tapping her long black fingernails on the granite. “You can tell me, or I’ll ask Tam when she comes home.”
“I passed out with him.” I don’t want her questioning Tamara, and she’ll find out anyway because Tam will crack like an egg under Izzy’s pressure.
“Of all the stupid shit,” she says, pushing off the counter and pacing again. “Did he hurt you?” Her eyes slice to mine.
I shake my head. “No, Auntie. He was a gentleman.”
“A gentleman who took you back to his hotel room.” She laughs. “You’re priceless, kid.”
“So, you’ve never had a one-night stand with a stranger?” I throw that right in her face because I’ve heard all about the night she met James at my parents’ wedding. They weren’t sipping coffee all night before she snuck right the fuck out of his room.
“We’re not talking about me,” she deflects. “Now, you had a drink with him, passed out, and then what? Don’t leave anything out, or Pike will be out of this house and have his shit packed before your tired ass wakes up.”
I take a deep breath and start at the beginning, telling my aunt every detail, minus all the crazy-amazing fucking we did. She doesn’t need to know the details because she isn’t my girlfriend, and it is already horrifyi
ng enough that I am telling her I slept with him. After what feels like I’ve been talking forever, I stop, finally looking at her in the eyes again. “That’s it.”
“Did you give him your phone number? Promise him anything?”
I shake my head. “He didn’t even know my full name. Just knew me as Gigi, and I told him I was going for coffee one morning and never went back.”
My aunt’s face changes, and her eyes light up. “You said you were going for coffee?”
I nod, laughing a little and feeling guilty too. “I did. He said he waited for me for hours before realizing I wasn’t coming back.”
“You so should’ve been my kid,” she says, holding her stomach, still laughing. “That’s totally something I would’ve pulled back in my heyday.”
“We’re not talking about your heyday.” I use air quotes on the last two words. If there’s anything more horrifying than telling your aunt about a guy you banged, it’s hearing about the guys she banged when she was your age.
“I was young once.”
“You still are.” I suck up. Something I’ve always done with my aunt and has typically worked.
“You’re a shit liar, baby girl.”
“Don’t fire Pike,” I beg because her mood has changed, and this may be the only time I can beg her for mercy. “I promise he didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I need to talk to your uncle before I can make you a promise about Pike and his future at Inked.”
“That’s bullshit. I’m either an adult, or I’m not. You can’t treat me like a girlfriend one minute, laughing about the way I left a guy with his dick literally in his hand, and then in the next breath, tell me you can’t make me a promise until you discuss something with my uncle. Why not just throw Dad in there too?”
“Pike’s future is going to be a family decision, Giovanna. We all own Inked. I don’t get the final say in anything that happens to that man without the others getting to say their piece.”
“Fucking great,” I groan.