The Enemy

by Amelia Shea

  It may not have been his dream, but it was hers. She had spent more time at the cabin by herself than with Jared. Oddly enough, it never bothered her.

  It wasn’t much, but it was all she had. They had always lived a little beyond their means. She’d been guilty of it too. They had two mortgages, a few credit cards, and car payments. Or so she thought. Nothing prepared her for the sit-down with her accountant after his death. It seemed Jared had more debt than she was aware of, and upon his death, solely responsible for. Hundreds of thousands of dollars. Jared had also stopped making payments on his life insurance a year earlier. It was a nightmare. She demanded an audit; in complete disbelief they had racked up their credit so poorly. It was then the hard, ugly truth was exposed. Thousands of dollars spent with other women.

  Fuck you, Jared.

  With thoughts of her past infiltrating her present, she decided she needed a change of scenery. Even if it was just to check on the mail.

  She started out her door and down her driveway. She glanced over at her new neighbor’s property. Their lot doubled her size. She hadn’t been around for the construction. It had been done while she was away. Though before she left, the property had been leveled on the large hill, the driveway had been paved, and the building markers had been set up. At the time, she had no clue it was going to be home to a motorcycle club.

  She made her way to the end of the lot, swinging open the wide metal gate.

  She glanced down the road to find several motorcycles lined up. She walked closer to get a better look, and her heartbeat spiked. She was wondering when she’d see him next.

  Hi, neighbor. Kase’s back was to her, and from the roar of the engines, she assumed he wouldn’t hear her. It wasn’t necessarily a sneak attack. Although she did like the idea of creeping up on him. If he saw her coming, he probably would have walked away. She had the distinct feeling he wasn’t quite as amused by her rumor has it comment as she was.

  She was three feet away when he turned. His brows knitted together as he eyed her with a harsh scowl. God, even angry and pissy was a good look on him. Had she known she’d be seeing him, she might have put a little more effort into her outfit. But for a biker, she was sure cutoff shorts and a tank top were acceptable.

  “Hey, neighbor.” She grinned with a coy wave. The lines between his brows deepened. She usually got a similar reaction from Arnett. Phoebe stopped a few feet away. If she was waiting on him to speak, they might be there all day.

  “Having a party?” When he didn’t respond, she inched a foot closer and cocked her head. “You do know about the noise ordinances in town, right?” She pointed across the street. “Arnett is all over that. He’s a stickler for the rules.”

  She drew in a breath and twitched her lips when he didn’t respond. She must have hit a nerve the other night. She smiled in hopes of breaking his hard shell. It didn’t. He lowered his eyes. She could almost feel his gaze as if it were a soft touch over her skin. Her nipples beaded, and she shifted on her feet.

  “But you’re not.” He cocked a brow and turned around to face her. His tone was challenging. She glanced up through her lashes. He had to be about six-three. Tall, brooding, and sexy. He folded his arms, which seemed to magnify his height. “How ya think I should handle him? Bat or my fists?”

  She sucked in a deep breath. She was caught off guard with his comment. However, letting on was not an option. She couldn’t be sure how much he knew about her. Any one of the residents could have shared her altercation with Arnett. It was, after all, the biggest thing to happen in their small town—until the arrival of the MC.

  She clucked her tongue. “Looks like somebody’s been asking about me, huh?” She glanced down at the ground and peeked up through her lashes, striding closer. “Did ya get all the juicy details, or ya need me to fill in the holes?”

  He didn’t budge. No reaction. She was going to have to step up her game for her new neighbor.

  “Got enough to know you’re fucking trouble.”

  Her jaw dropped in amusement. The biker in a gang was calling her trouble? Oh, the irony. She tilted her head, squinting her eyes playfully. Still no reaction from him. He was stone faced, masking any emotion. He slowly turned, giving her his back, and started up his driveway.

  “Is it ’cause I’m an ex-con?” she shouted.

  When he slowly glanced over his shoulder, she waggled her brows. “You scared?”

  His gaze travelled over her body, sending a shiver down her spine. It was an odd reaction to a man who was not her usual type. She had always gravitated to pretty boys. And Kase was definitely not pretty; he was too gruff and hard. The tattoos alone were usually a turnoff. Strangely, they had the opposite effect and heightened her attraction for him. For the first time since she spoke, she caught a glimpse of heat in his stare, and his lips twitched. Here’s my in, and I’m gonna take it.

  She strolled forward, leaving a small gap between them. “Don’t be scared, Kase.” She purposely paused and whispered, “I won’t hurt you.” She shrugged. “Unless that’s what you’re into?”

  He cocked his brow. “You always come on this fucking strong?”

  She fought against the blush on her cheeks and snorted. “You think I’m flirting with you?” She scoffed and waved her hand. “This is just me being neighborly.” It was a lie. She was flirting, and enjoying every second of it. Kase was a challenge. Little did he know, she thrived on challenges.

  He raised his brows. He was a hard read.

  “You can’t have them bikes blocking the goddamn road.”

  Ugh, are you serious? She had been enjoying her attempt at flirting too much. Of course, Arnett would be the one to ruin it. She jerked her head and glared in his direction.

  “Now, this is my road and I…”

  Phoebe cleared her throat, and Arnett whipped his head in her direction, shooting daggers from his beady eyes. “You don’t own the road.”

  His face turned red, and he lunged forward. She held her ground. She’d been dealing with him for seven years. Arnett was all bark. Phoebe was not. She folded her arms and stepped forward. It seemed to serve as a reminder.

  “I been living here for…”

  Phoebe moaned dramatically and spread her arms. “For forty-two years, we know, we all know, Arnett.” He did not appreciate her cutting him off, and his nostrils flared. She snickered, shaking her head.

  Phoebe hadn’t realized Kase had moved closer to her until she saw his boots lined up near her flipflops. She glanced up. He was glaring at Arnett, and a warm swirl twisted in her belly. She’d always been one to handle herself, but seeing the badass biker next to her taking what seemed to be a protective stance? Holy shit, it’s sexy as hell.

  “I been here longer than you been alive. Gives me seniority on this road. And I don’t care to see you carrying on and seducing bikers while blocking up my road. The whole town has turned to crap since you came here.”

  She usually paid no mind to Arnett and his barking rants. However, this one piqued her curiosity.

  She slowly turned to Kase and lowered her voice. “Was it working? Was I seducing you?”

  He arched his brow, and she noticed the small twitch in his lips. Her stomach plummeted. Fuck, was it working, and Arnett totally ruined it?

  “Move those goddamn bikes, or I’ll call the police,” Arnett threatened. Phoebe rolled her eyes. Even if the cops were called, it would take at the very least an hour before they showed. It was on the tip of her tongue to say something until she heard the venomous snarl.

  “I’ll move them,” Kase paused, “when I’m ready to fucking move them.”

  Phoebe clamped her lips. It was her only defense against laughing in Arnett’s face. His aggressive verbal spouts might work on other residents, but not on the president of the Ghosttown Riders.

  Kase glared at Arnett, and she took immense joy in watching the old bully retreating a step. Watching Kase from the corner of her eye, her belly fluttered. There was no fake, all-talk bravado
with him. He was the real fucking deal and so damn sexy. He steeled his eyes and turned toward his driveway without uttering another word.

  “Bye, neighbor.”

  His steps never faltered, and he gave no reaction to hearing her. Maybe he had and chose to ignore her.

  The rumbling engine distracted her from watching his retreat up the driveway. In the distance, she saw someone coming down the road. With only one headlight, it appeared to be another motorcycle. Damn, they are having a party.

  “Carrying on as a two-dime whore for a gang.”

  Her muscles tightened, and she slowly turned her gaze, glancing across the street. Arnett stood, glaring at her. For all his bullshit and nastiness, this was a new low, even for Arnett.

  “Say it again, I dare you.” She balled her fists, ignoring the engine roaring toward her. She had taken a lot from him, but this crossed the line.

  “I call it like I see it. Jared deserved better than you.” Arnett’s lip curled in a disgusted sneer. “And thankfully he had better than the likes of you.” His eyes darkened. “Whore.”

  He barely got the word out and Phoebe was halfway across the street directly in the crosshairs of the motorcycle.

  Motherfucker.

  ****

  Bye, neighbor.

  The sound of her soft, sultry voice echoed in his fucking head. Kase clenched his jaw, driving a shooting pain into his molars. He’d underestimated her. Phoebe was coming on strong. Not something Kase wasn’t used to. The club girls threw themselves at him on a daily basis. Phoebe was different. His defenses seemed to be weakening slightly for his neighbor. Motherfucker.

  With an abundance of pussy at his disposal, it was senseless to think Phoebe was affecting him. If he was smart, he’d find a woman and take her in the back. With all the willing participants, he could be balls deep in one of the girls in a second.

  He shifted forward, resting his elbows on the bar trying to focus. He couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, anyone had irritated the fuck out of him as much as his new neighbor. She’d fucking lost her mind if she thought for a second, he was falling for her flirting bullshit, sweet, tight curves, and her innocent, blue fuck me eyes. He’d gone up against far more experienced women and hadn’t fallen for their bullshit. Phoebe would be no different.

  Kase had never fallen prey to a female, and he had no intentions of ever letting it happen. Especially her. Then why the fuck can’t I stop thinking about her?

  “Who we waiting on?” Trax said.

  “Saint,” Kase muttered, and then downed his glass of bourbon. He slammed the glass on the bar and signaled to Nadia for a refill. He had planned the meeting a few weeks ago. With all the deliveries, he wanted to touch base with the club. Some members, including Trax, wanted to request scaling back on their out of town nights. Kase understood it. Trax and his wife were expecting a baby, and Trax hadn’t wanted to leave her overnight. It was a fair request that Kase would grant. Too many people missed the most important aspects of the club. They were family. They took care of each other.

  Kase checked his phone for the time. Five minutes late. It wasn’t much, but for Saint, who was always on time or earlier, it struck Kase as odd. He turned toward the door when he heard the scrambling.

  “What?”

  Joe, one of their oldest prospects who was slated for membership at the end of the month, stumbled over his words. He glanced over his shoulder and then turned to the brothers.

  “Fucking speak, asshole,” Rourke snapped.

  “Saint needs you. I think.”

  Kase stood and moved swiftly toward the door. “Where?”

  “Down at the end of the driveway. I don’t know what the fuck happened. I think the chick from next door went after the old guy from across the street. Saint’s holding her back now.”

  Kase balled his fists and rushed through the door with his brothers at his back. Motherfucking psychotic bitch. What the fuck? He’d just left her ten minutes ago, and she was on the attack again. He double timed it down the long drive. Saint had, in fact, been holding Phoebe back with Arnett inching forward. Brazen motherfucker was showing his set when someone was holding her back. He rushed down toward them, eyeing Saint, who was fighting against Phoebe, who was shouting over his shoulder.

  “Say it again, spineless fucking asshole. You are so fucking lucky he’s holding me back!” Phoebe screamed. It was pure rage and on the verge of incoherent. She jerked her arms, but Saint had her bound, trying to calm her.

  She halted for a brief second before turning on Saint. “Because of my absolute adoration and love for Bailey, I’m giving you a fair warning. Let me go before I kick you in the balls.”

  Oh hell. Kase rushed forward and gripped her arm, yanking her against his chest and wrapping his arms around her waist. She thrashed in his arms, and Saint glared at her.

  Kase lowered his mouth to her ear. “Settle the fuck down.”

  “I’m calling the cops. You need to be locked up,” Arnett spouted from across the street and made no move to retreat. He was baiting her, and Kase was half tempted to let Phoebe go.

  “Do it, Arnett, call the cops. You are a weak, poor excuse for a real man who hides behind a nasty tongue and hate.” She jerked her body. It was a useless effort. Kase had her locked in a vise grip.

  “You belong locked up, you whore.”

  Kase tightened his hold on Phoebe as she reacted to Arnett’s words. What the fuck did he just say?

  “It’s no wonder Jared left you.”

  Kase loosened his grip, and she pulled from his hold. He would make it to Arnett before her. He could almost see his fist throttling Arnett’s jaw. He drew in a deep breath and gripped her hips, pulling her against his chest and making his way into her driveway. She continued to thrash under his hold, shouting over his shoulder.

  “Whore? Is that what you said, you deranged clueless bastard?”

  He made it halfway up her driveway, far enough away from Arnett. He didn’t release her, tightening his grip around her waist. He could feel her heart pumping with her anger on the verge of exploding.

  “Calm the fuck down.”

  “Fuck him.”

  “Yeah, fuck him.” Kase sighed and wrapped his hands over her arms, holding her in place with her back against his chest. “You got a record with this asshole. You don’t need the cops here. And I don’t need the cops here.” She pulled away, and he tightened his grip. “Settle the fuck down.”

  Surprisingly, she did. He had only caught the tail end of their argument, but he’d heard enough. The old man was baiting her with the whore comment, and throwing her dead husband in her face. Arnett knew what would set her off, and he used it.

  Phoebe relaxed slightly into his chest, resting her head back. Without the distraction of her thrashing, he was aware of how easily she fit into his arms. He could have let her go but remained with his arms clasped around her.

  She scoffed. “Ironic, right? Jared fucked every piece of ass he ever came into contact with, and that bastard is calling me a whore.”

  The new admission struck Kase. Her dead husband had been fucking around behind her back? It was a vantage point. Leverage he could use. Why the fuck wasn’t he saying anything, using it against her? He caressed her arms, calming her in the most unlike-Kase Reilly move. Had she been any other woman, he would have walked away minutes ago. Why the fuck was he still there?

  He cleared his throat. “Who the fuck cares what he says.”

  Her silence caused an uneasy shift in his blood.

  “Kase?”

  He glanced down at her to find her soft blue eyes peering up at him. “What?”

  She sucked in a breath and turned her head, glancing over her shoulder. The corner of her mouth curled. “Is there any chance you’d let me just take one shot? Just one hit, my fist, his jaw, please.”

  Kase smirked and fought against his chuckle. She was a fighter. He jerked his chin over his shoulder. “He ain’t worth it.”

  She sighed and
collapsed against his chest. “I know. I’d still like to hit him.”

  “You already got your shot.”

  She bowed her head and snorted.

  He released his hold, confident that if she tried to make a break down the driveway, he would beat her. She stood silent and then slowly made her way toward her house without looking back. Whatever the old man had said hit her hard. He felt an unnatural possessive instinct. He shouldn’t be feeling anything for her. Yet his blood rushed through his veins and his anger simmered. He watched as she made her way into her house. As soon as the door closed, he turned started down the driveway with his target in his sights.

  “Kase, man.”

  “Fuck, Kase.”

  He couldn’t decipher which of his brothers had spoken. They all surrounded him as he made his way across the street. Rourke, the biggest of the members, butted up against his chest, grasping his shoulder. “Do not do this, man. We’re gonna let Saint handle this shit.”

  Kase drew in a breath, unsure where his possession had come from. He was never one to take up for someone he didn’t know. Bringing unnecessary attention to the club was something Kase avoided at all costs. This was different. This altercation was different. Kase pushed forward, bringing Rourke, and now Trax, with him. “Kase, man, calm down,” Trax barked.

  No, Kase wasn’t having anyone else handle this except for himself. He lunged forward with his men close at his side. It was for the old man’s protection, not his own.

  “The next fucking time she goes after your crazy ass? I’m gonna let her, and I’m gonna provide the bat so she can use it this time, you hear me?” Kase tore his arm from Rourke’s grip. “You wanna say something to her? You say it to me, motherfucker.” He lunged forward, and Rourke set himself in front of Kase.

  “Brother, settle.”

  Who the fuck was this asshole to take a shot at her? By her own admission, her husband was the one fucking around on her.

  Saint shielded his advance and turned to their neighbor. “I’m giving you fair warning. You walk back inside your house and never speak another word to her again.” He paused, and Arnett shuffled backward. “If I ever hear you speak to her that way again, you will deal with me.” Saint stepped closer. “And Kase.” One step closer sent Arnett three steps back. “And the club. Am I making myself clear?”