Little Jack

by Atlas, Lilly

  “What?”

  Zach snorted. “You’ve been quiet for about four minutes with this look of panic on your face. Guessing you’re trying to figure out how to hand over a big fat fucking no.”

  Goddammit. “No,” LJ said. “I’m just—”

  Copper held up a hand. “Relax. I ain’t gonna force you to do shit.” He sighed and stroked his beard. “It was an idea I had to float. Wasn’t sure how you felt about her. If you guys were just fucking and shit…” He shrugged then gave LJ a shit-eating grin. “Didn’t know you were falling for this chick.”

  “What? No. No falling. Just hanging out.” Falling for her? Ridiculous. He liked her, liked fucking her. End of story.

  Liar.

  Rocked barked out a laugh. So nice of him to finally join the conversation. LJ flipped him off.

  “Look, I saw a potential opportunity. I’d be a shit president if I didn’t at least see where your head was about this girl. I ain’t gonna press you to do shit, LJ. You’ve got nothing to prove to me. You spent fifteen months earning my respect and proving your loyalty to my club. This ain’t some kinda test. That shit is over. You’re patched, you’re a brother, and you’re free to speak your mind. I’ll tell you right now, had someone asked me to manipulate and use Shell, I’d have told them to go fuck themselves, president or not.”

  “Prez, this thing with Holly ain’t like you and Shell.” Shell had a man she could count on to keep her warm throughout the night. Shell had a man she could lie next to without fear of being attacked while she slept. Holly would never receive either of those assurances from him. No matter the desire or strength of his feelings, the relationship was doomed from the start.

  “We’ll see,” Copper said.

  Rocket caught his gaze. Of course, he didn’t say anything, but he nodded once. Solidarity. Understanding. Rocket had demons, hell, so did his woman, maybe even more than Rocket himself. He knew what it was to suffer from the demons in his head.

  LJ started to speak again but was cut short by the jangle of his phone.

  Holly. He peeked at the time before answering. She’d been out about four hours and should have been on her way home. Jesus, he’d teased her about the truck, but had been confident she’d handle it just fine.

  If she’d been in an accident when he could have just driven her…

  “Hey, sugar. What’s up?”

  “Um, LJ?” she asked in a voice so small, he strained to make her out. His spine straightened, and he made eye contact with Copper. His three brothers snapped to attention, prepared to jump in and help in any way.

  “What’s wrong, Holly?”

  “Um, could you come get me? And bring the registration paperwork for your gun…if you have it.” If it’s registered was the unspoken statement.

  Of course, it was fucking registered. He was an outlaw MC member. Driving around with an unregistered gun would give every cop in a ten-mile radius a boner. “Where are you?” he asked as he marched toward the door to retrieve his boots.

  “I’ve got my work truck,” Rocket said. “You can ride with me.”

  Good. This way he could drive Holly back in his own truck.

  “Um, I got pulled over. And when they searched the car, they found the gun and the cop wants to press charges since I don’t have papers for it.”

  What the fuck? “Why the fuck did they search the car? Why the fuck were you pulled over? Did you tell ’em who your dad is?”

  “Uh,” she said, and it grew even more difficult to hear her. As though she spoke extra low to keep someone from overhearing. “Can you just hurry, please? I’m on the highway halfway between the diner and our apartments.”

  “Be there in five. Hold on, baby.”

  “Thank you,” she said but it sounded more like a choked sob. The stark relief had him moving even faster. Had she thought he wouldn’t come for her? Shit. He had some serious work to do to get her to understand how much she meant to him. Even if this couldn’t end in happily ever after.

  “Cops harassing her?”

  “Sounds like it. Let’s roll.” He didn’t bother waiting for his bothers or even locking his fucking door. LJ ran down the steps and jogged toward Rocket’s truck.

  Copper and Zach mounted their bikes. “We’re right behind you,” Copper said.

  And even though his nerves were stretched thin, LJ felt the power of his brotherhood behind him. Didn’t matter in the least that he’d turned down Copper’s request. They had his back and would work this shit out.

  One way or another.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  FIVE MINUTES EARLIER, Holly accelerated onto the highway with the cheesiest grin on her face. She glanced at her phone, lying on the passenger seat. It’d be so easy to call LJ and tell him how amazing her practice run had gone. How much Toni, Jazz, and all the employees at the diner loved what she’d made. And they had. Holly had never received so many compliments in her life. If she’d stayed there much longer, her head wouldn’t have been able to fit in LJ’s truck.

  But no, she’d tell him when she saw him in person. Attaching LJ to every victory or milestone in her life was a fool’s errand. One likely to end in crying fits every time something good happened to her in the future once he wasn’t there to share in it any longer.

  Instead of calling him, she had a private celebration in her mind. Monday was going to rock. Two more days and she’d be gainfully employed doing what she loved.

  The shrill whoop of a siren startled her out of her musings. She peeked in her rearview mirror, scanning for the source. Hopefully, she had enough time to shift lanes before she found herself blocking their way. A police vehicle flew down the highway quickly approaching her in the left lane, so Holly switched to the right.

  The cop followed suit, then they pulled up, hot on her tail.

  So close Holly could see the officer waving her over.

  Holly frowned at the mirror then returned her attention to the road. On her next check, the cop hadn’t moved. He whooped his siren again and flashed his lights this time, again waving her over.

  “Me?” Holly asked out loud as though someone would answer. “You’re pulling me over? What the hell?”

  Before easing up on the gas, she glanced at the speedometer which read an even sixty miles per hour. Okay, so the speed limit was fifty-five, but wasn’t there a five-mile-per-hour margin of error in these cases?

  Her heart lodged in her throat as she moved her foot to the gas. Even with two cops in her immediate family, Holly had always been terrified by the prospect of being pulled over. The one other time it had happened, she’d been a sweating, stammering mess by the time the officer had knocked on her window. Barely able to speak around her nerves, he’d thought she was wasted and demanded a breathalyzer, which she’d passed with flying colors and a hefty dose of mortification.

  “Take a breath, girl,” she whispered. “Relax. Hands on the wheel.” She did as she advised herself, sitting with her hands at ten and two and staring straight ahead. Despite anticipating it, the rap on the window had her jumping out of her skin.

  She depressed the window control. “Yes, officer?” He looked familiar, though she hadn’t officially met him. If she remembered correctly, he was one of the cops present during the raid on the clubhouse.

  “Well, you don’t look like a Jack Olsen.” The slim officer with a bushy blond mustache and a wicked southern drawl tucked his thumbs through his belt loops and rocked back on his heels. “You’re a might bit prettier, I imagine. Though you never can tell these days with people switchin’ genders left and right. Ran the plates as I was pullin’ ya over. Says this here vehicle belongs to a Jack Olsen.”

  What. The. Hell. Did this guy seriously say that bigoted garbage to her? She took a breath and pushed it aside. They weren’t there to discuss his social views or hers, just the ownership of the vehicle. “Um, yes, this truck is Jack’s. He’s my—” Well shit, what was he? He’s my fuck buddy probably wouldn’t be the wisest phrase to blurt out. He’
s my friend with benefits? “He’s my boyfriend,” she said.

  Kinda.

  Close enough for today.

  “Boyfriend, huh?” The officer, actually the sheriff’s deputy, said with a smug grin. “If that’s what ya wanna call it, guess ya got the right.” He propped his hip on the side of her car, folding his arms as though he planned to linger.

  “Um, excuse me?” she asked.

  The deputy, Higgins, his name tag read, leaned down until his face was level with her open window. “It’s okay, darlin’, ain’t no judgment from me. Lived in this town a while now. Those Handlers always seem to have plenty of ‘girlfriends’”—he dared to use air quotes—“hangin’ ’round the club. Now here’s the thang, ma’am. Some of those girlfriends have been known to cause drama. You know, stir up some trouble when their ‘boyfriend’ gets a new ‘girlfriend.’ Maybe ya decided to teach Mr. Jack Olsen a lesson by takin’ his truck on a little joy ride.”

  If the man crooked his fingers in midair one more time, Holly was going to reach out and snap them off. Okay, she never would, but the fantasy took some of the sting out of being subtly called a whore and a thief.

  After taking a calming breath, Holly looked at the officer. “My car wouldn’t start his morning. Jack, my air-quote-free boyfriend, lent me his truck so I could get to and from work. If you’d like, I can call him, and he can verify my story.”

  “Hmm, how about ya just hand on over yer license, the registration, and insurance card.”

  “Sure. My license is in my purse and the other items are in the glove box. May I retrieve them?”

  “Wouldn’ta asked for ’em if I didn’t want you to get ’em,” he said with a laugh that raked down Holly’s back like metal scraping concrete.

  Her nerves went haywire as she fished her wallet out of her purse. “Here’s this.” She handed it through the window, willing her hand not to shake.

  “Purdy,” he said. “Though you’re even better lookin’ in real life.” He winked.

  “Um, uh, thanks.”

  His focus wasn’t on her license. In fact, he’d barely glanced at the thing. Instead, he zeroed in on her breasts, though they were fully hidden by her T-shirt. Goosebumps rose along her arms and the back of her neck. Not the good kind, either. Not the kind she got when LJ kissed her neck or whispered in her ear. No, these were warning goosebumps. Basically, an internal alarm system or creeper alert.

  “Going to grab the registration now.” She leaned over the center console and reached for the glove box. It was a stretch. The truck was just so damn big. Her shirt rode up in the back. A high-pitched whistle pierced the air making her jaw drop.

  He did not just whistle at her, scumbag style…

  Finally, after nearly dislocating her shoulder, she reached the latch and opened the glove box.

  Out tumbled a shiny black pistol. Holly knew her way around a gun. A girl didn’t grow up with a cop father and not learn to shoot, hell, she even had one locked in a small safe under her bed, but she hadn’t been prepared for this one and recoiled as though it were a snake instead of a weapon.

  “Hands on the wheel, now!” Higgins shouted as he drew his own weapon and aimed it at her through the window.

  A rushing waterfall sounded in her ears. Higgins continued to yell, but the words didn’t register.

  Finally, after staring through the windshield for long seconds, the deputy’s screams broke through her haze. “Last time I’m gonna say it. Get out of the vehicle. Now.” He reached inside and pulled the lever, opening the door.

  “It’s not my gun! I didn’t even know it was there. I haven’t touched it and I’m not going to.” She lifted her hands by her ears and used her foot to push the door open. Slowly, so as not to spook the deputy, she slipped out of the car.

  “Is the gun registered?”

  Was it? How the hell would she know, but damn she sure hoped it was. “It’s not mine. I don’t know anything about it. I didn’t even know it was in there. Please, you can call LJ—Jack. I’m sure he’ll straighten this up.”

  With his weapon still trained on her, he said, “Move around to the front of the vehicle. Face the windshield. Palms flat on the hood.”

  Why the hell wasn’t he listening to a thing she said? “Um, I don’t want to name drop or anything, but my father—”

  “Oh, I know who your daddy is, Holly.” He maneuvered his slim body around the car. “What’s your daddy think about you whoring yourself out to the MC?”

  Heat from the hood of LJ’s truck, singed her hands, though it wasn’t nearly as hot as her face. If she turned to mortification in the dictionary, she was pretty sure she’d find a picture of a woman standing in this very position. The posture had her feeling exposed despite being fully clothed. She was vulnerable. Unable to fully take in her surroundings and protect herself.

  “I’ve removed the weapon from the vehicle.”

  Holly jumped as he appeared next to her.

  “Gotta pat you down. Need to make sure you don’t have any other surprise weapons on your person.”

  “I don’t. I told you, that’s not my—oh!” His hands landed heavy on her shoulders. He stroked straight down her back then up her sides. The journey of his hands seemed more like a caress than a search for contraband.

  Holly stiffened. What the hell was she supposed to do? She couldn’t say, “Excuse me, officer, you’re touching me too intimately, please lighten it up.” Could she? Would that land her in even hotter water?

  Nausea swirled in her stomach as she clenched her teeth, squeezed her eyes shut and prepared to endure the unprofessional search.

  Then his hands came around her sides, up and over her breasts where he paused and squeezed. Holly shrieked and jerked back. The situation had gone from slightly over the line to so far past it; the damn thing disappeared from view.

  “Stop! You can’t do this!” Holly tried to turn, but his hand pushed like a lead weight on her back, smashing her flat against the car’s hood once again. Only this time, she landed hard and with an “oof.”

  To anyone passing by at fifty-five plus miles per hour, the scene appeared as though an officer was subduing a resisting perp.

  “Hold still until I finish,” he said as his hands roamed once again. His hands stroked over her ass, down her legs and back up. He stepped closer. The ridge of what could only be an erection pressed against her ass.

  Tears burned in her eyes. The one hope she clung to like a lifeline was the fact they were in public. He couldn’t rape her on the side of the road with cars driving by. Some Good Samaritan would notice and stop to help.

  Right?

  Finally, after what seemed like hours, he finally released her. Holly let out a shuddered breath. She was too terrified to be relieved at that point. Just because his wandering hands were no longer on her, she wasn’t out of danger yet. As long as she remained in his presence, she couldn’t relax.

  “Well, ma’am,” he continued as though he hadn’t molested her. “You may stand up.”

  Holly straightened, wincing at the discomfort in her hip where he’d slammed it into the car. She turned and forced herself to meet his gaze instead of curling into a ball on the ground like she wanted.

  Higgins was still close, too close and the sick twist in her gut intensified.

  “You’re in some trouble, as I see it,” he said as he folded his arms. “Now, we got a couple options. I can slap some cuffs on you, toss you in the back of my vehicle, and haul you into the station. Be pretty embarrassin’ for your daddy, dontcha think?”

  “It’s not my gun.”

  He shrugged and grinned a creepy smile like he knew he held all the cards and she was fucked. “Don’t matter. You were drivin’. Makes you captain of this here ship. As captain, you’re responsible for everythin’ happenin’ on the ship, even if it ain’t your ship.”

  The cinnamon roll—all right rolls—she’d eaten about an hour ago tried to make a reappearance, but Holly forced the sick feeling down. “Wha
t’s the, uh, what’s the second option?” she asked, barely able to get the sour words past her mouth.

  Because without asking, she knew.

  “Well, the second option is you sit in the front seat of the car instead.”

  “W-what?” She shook her head. “I don’t, um, I don’t understand.”

  His grin grew sinister. “Not much to it.” He grabbed his junk and gave it a solid heft. “You sit in the front seat of my cruiser and let me know how much you appreciate me not dragging you in on a weapons charge.”

  Holly gagged as her stomach lurched violently.

  “M-my father—”

  “Cares more about takin’ out the MC than anything else. Trust me on that one, darlin’.”

  God. Was it true? Would her father care more about his hatred for bikers than his daughter being abused by one of his own? Two weeks ago, she’d have said no. Now…no, she refused to think it. The sheriff-father card was her only card left, and she’d play it to the max.

  “You willing to risk it?” she asked, forcing strength she didn’t feel into her voice. “Because it’s sexual assault. You’re a cop, you know that. Blackmailing me for a blowjob in your car is assault. You willing to put your job and your freedom on the line because you think my dad will overlook that shit? Trust me, he won’t.”

  For the first time since he lured her out of the truck, Higgins focused his attention on something besides her body. He shifted and tapped his fingers against his pant leg.

  A nervous habit?

  Was his arrogance finally waning?

  “Look,” she said, holding out her hand. “Just hand me my phone. I’ll call LJ, he’ll bring whatever paperwork you need to see about the gun. Then we’ll all just be on our way and forget the last few minutes.”

  Higgins cocked his head and smiled that spine-chilling smile again. Shit, she was fucked. He saw straight through her false bravado and posturing. “You know what, darlin’?” he asked. “I’m gonna give you this one.” He held out her phone.

  Of course, he held it close to his body, so she had to walk into his personal space to retrieve it. As her hand closed around the case, he held it firm. “And I’m gonna give it a few weeks. Figure by that point, your daddy will have arrested one or two of the Handlers. Whet his appetite. And he’ll be starving for more. Pretty sure he won’t give a fuck what any of us do by then. Guess you better watch your speed from now on, huh? This might turn out differently next time.” He winked.