Eating Asphalt (Sacred Hearts MC Pacific Northwest Book 5)

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Eating Asphalt (Sacred Hearts MC Pacific Northwest Book 5) Page 7

by A. J. Downey


  “Some things?” I asked, meeting his eyes.

  “Around here.” He shrugged one shoulder and the sincerity in his eyes when he said, “How beautiful I think you are,” touched me soul deep. He raised our joined hands and planted a kiss softly in the center of my palm.

  I shivered and it had absolutely nothing to do with being chilled by the deepening night. No, in fact, it was quite pleasant out here.

  I swallowed hard, speechless.

  “All you have to do is say ‘yes,’” he murmured and God, did it sound so tempting.

  “Alright,” I whispered and the smile that graced his lips was otherworldly.

  “Is that a ‘yes?’” he asked, and I nodded carefully.

  “That’s a ‘yes,’” I whispered. He took a step forward and before I was ready, or before I knew what was happening, his lips were descending toward mine.

  I think I plucked up every bit of bravery I had in the moment and turned my face up to his rather than look away. I closed my eyes and his lips brushed mine so softly, so carefully, and suddenly it was a sensation like falling though I stood so very solid and so very still.

  The kiss was chaste, gentle, and soft. My heart pounded the inside of the cage of my ribs as he brushed his lips across mine, back and forth in the barest of touches. So careful of me, so slow, so… safe. He didn’t rush me and was playing it safe for my comfort.

  “Hmm.” He hummed his pleasure and searched my face, which I could only stare wide-eyed and surprised, as much at him as I was at myself.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?” he asked softly, and he let me go, my hand suddenly suspended without the support of his behind it. I made an uncertain strangled noise and nodded a little too quickly.

  “Goodnight,” he said with a smirk. He disappeared back through my front door, the hollow tread of his booted feet against my hardwood floors retreating through the house.

  Holy shit… had that really just happened?

  I looked down at the half empty beer in my hand with the nervously peeled label and swore at myself.

  “Jesus, fuck, Cadence. What is wrong with you?” I whispered as I closed my eyes.

  Wasn’t that the question of the ages?

  10

  Glass Jaw…

  “Where the fuck you been all day?” Mav asked me as I dropped onto the barstool next to his. I didn’t hide the fact I had to adjust myself in my pants. Fuck, I was still hard almost an hour later, the tingling memory of her soft lips lingering against my own, that soft whimper of need she probably hadn’t even known she’d let out echoing in my ears on a repeated loop in my brain and fuck.

  “Oh, man… I am so fucked,” I said with a savage grin. “I’ve got it bad for the widow Mitchell.”

  Mav’s eyebrows went up.

  “Oh, yeah?” he asked.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  He leaned back some and caught Ms. Momma Kat’s eye and jerked his head in my direction. Momma Kat grinned, gave him a chin lift and set off to pour me something good.

  “So, what happened?” he asked.

  I told him all about it.

  “Oh, man… this woman? She is fucking beautiful,” I said. “All soft lines and sweeping curves, big doe eyes and the longest, softest-looking sleek-brown hair. Definitely the softest fucking lips I’ve ever put against mine and I swear to fucking God, I can still taste her.”

  I closed my eyes and leaned back on my seat and just relished the recent memory of her for a split second. When I opened my eyes, Mav’s indigo ones were sparkling, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as his shoulders shook in silent laughter at me.

  “I know, bro. Believe me, I know how ridiculous I look right now, but I can’t muster up any fucks to give.”

  “I’ve never seen you like this over a piece of ass,” Mav declared, and I shook my head.

  “I’ve never felt like this about a woman before, but man, Cadence? This isn’t that,” I said. “This goes way beyond a hit-it or quit-it sort of scenario. She’s not the type, man. This is a woman you take your time with, a woman you spoil and the kind you marry.”

  Mav was laughing at me so hard tears were leaking out of the corners of his eyes by this point, but I didn’t give a fuck. He could laugh all he wanted. If there was such a thing as love at first sight, I think I’d found it. Cupid shot his shot, and that arrow went right up my motherfucking asshole.

  I said as much, too, and Mav damn near fell out of his seat he was cuttin’ up so hard.

  “I’m happy for you,” he said between wheezing gasps. “When you gonna bring her around?” he asked.

  “In due time, brother. In due time. I’m just gonna take my time and enjoy this if you don’t mind.”

  He shook his head and said, “No, bro. I don’t mind at all.” I nodded once and took the drink from Momma Kat that she served me.

  “That’s the good shit,” she said with a wink. “Since it looks like we’re celebratin’ and all.”

  “That we are, Momma. That we are,” I said, raising the glass. “To love at first sight.”

  “Aww,” she said, leaning her chin on her fist. “I love, love,” she declared with a whimsical sigh and I sipped and grinned.

  This really was the good shit, top shelf, the best.

  “I never had much use for it,” I declared. “Until maybe now.”

  “I can’t wait to meet her,” Mav said, looking at me speculatively.

  “Sooner rather than later, I hope,” I declared and winked at Momma who pushed back into a standing position and lumbered up the bar to fix something for one of the other boys.

  “Don’t wanna overwhelm her?” Mav asked. I nodded and got into some of the nitty-gritty.

  “She’s pretty fragile,” I declared, and he frowned.

  “How’s that?”

  “Single mom, seventeen-year-old boy. Her husband died suddenly, and pop goes the weasel. Turned out he had a whole other family with this side chick.”

  Mav’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “No shit?”

  I nodded, “She’s tough, real tough. Moved her and her boy clear across the country by herself and it’s been one minor disaster after the next, after the next, after the next, and she just keeps taking the pressure like a champ. Refuses to fall the fuck apart, but yeah. She’s got more baggage than the overhead compartment of a full flight on a 747.”

  “This is so not your thing,” Mav declared, polishing off what was in his glass as his ol’ lady sauntered up and leaned an arm on his shoulder, his arm automatically going around her trim waist.

  “Could say the same about you at one point,” I pointed out with a raised eyebrow, and he grinned.

  “What are we talking about?” Marisol asked. “Or is it club business?” She rolled her eyes at that last and I grinned and hid it behind my glass as Mav smacked her on her jeans-clad ass and squeezed a good handful of it. Marisol yipped slightly and let out a throaty moan as he manhandled her, shivering a little at his side.

  “Watch it,” Mav warned but none of the affection left his tone. Marisol’s grin was suppressed into a cheeky smirk as she looked over at her man.

  “Nah, not club business,” I said, letting her off the hook. “Personal, though, and I’m not ready to share with the whole-ass club. Just my best buddy here.”

  “Gotcha.” Marisol nodded her understanding and whispered something in Mav’s ear.

  “Sorry, bro, duty calls,” Mav declared, and I grinned as he got up, hauling Marisol up against his body and devouring her from the mouth down.

  “No worries, bro, I get it,” I said. “Hopefully I’ll be in the same place soon.”

  “Right on,” Mav said. “I hope for your sake that you are too.” He punched me lightly in the shoulder and I watched them go, slightly staggering into each other as they moved up the hall to Mav’s office.

  God, man… it would be nice.

  The next morning, out of the blue, my burner started ringing like a mofo, shattering the peace of an otherwis
e idyllic Sunday fucking morning where I got to fucking sleep in for a change.

  “What?” I growled into the line.

  “This Glass Jaw?” an unfamiliar voice on the other end demanded almost hostilely.

  “Yeah,” I said. “What’s up? What you waking me up for?”

  “Shit, sorry, man. I keep forgettin’ the fuckin’ time difference.” The voice lightened up. “This is Trap with the Rocky Mountain chapter.”

  “Oh, shit.” I sat up. “What can I do for you, Trap?”

  “Nothin’ brother, it’s what I’ve done for you. We got our hands on that asswipe for you. Your lady’s shit should be getting loaded on a truck. I got fellas with the Atlanta chapter at the warehouse right now, supervising.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I said impressed. “Right on! Thank you much, brother.”

  “How’s she doin’?” Trap asked.

  “Not too bad,” I said. “Stressed, but wouldn’t you be?”

  “Fuck no. I’d be pissed and fuckin’ some motherfuckers up myself,” he said laughing.

  “Yeah, well, priorities, man,” I said, laughing myself.

  “No doubt. Anyway, her shit should be there this week. Just thought you should know. Took us a while to track this weaselly little fuck down. Busted out all his teeth for you. Talkin’ to a lady like that.” I heard the dude spit.

  “Good deal,” I said. “Hopefully, lesson fuckin’ learned.”

  “Oh, I’m sure of it,” Trap said.

  “I sure do appreciate it,” I said.

  “That’s what family’s for, ain’t it?” Trap asked.

  “Sure fuckin’ is. You need anything, you don’t hesitate.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind. Don’t have much going on out that way, though.”

  “Thanks for calling,” I said.

  “No problem. Keep the shiny side up, brother.”

  “Same to ya, now,” I declared.

  The line went dead, and I smiled to myself. Good deal.

  I went back to bed and slept like a fuckin’ baby ‘til about noon.

  11

  Cadence…

  The Lana Del Rey song playing through my phone was interrupted by a call, my ringtone blaring out into my office and startling me. Thankfully, my pencil tip wasn’t making contact with the paper when it happened. I set the implement of my craft down and picked up my phone.

  Movers flashed across the screen before dissolving and the number followed by Colorado took its place.

  I steeled myself, taking a deep breath and answered.

  “Hello?” I let the breath out in a silent, measured count.

  “Ms. Mitchell?” an unfamiliar man’s voice filtered across the line.

  “Yes?”

  “Don Walters with your moving company,” he said.

  “Yes?” I repeated carefully.

  “Just wanted to let you know that your belongings are going to be there tomorrow or the next day. Trying to find out what works best for you, ma’am.”

  “Uh, are you serious?” I asked a little stunned.

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Tomorrow!” I practically cried. “Tomorrow is perfect.”

  “Tomorrow it is. Thank you, Ma’am.”

  “Thank you,” I said. I was desperate to have my things and not even caring at this point. Okay, well, maybe I cared a lot, but I didn’t want to rock the boat. I just wanted our things. After that frightful conversation with one of their operators the day that our things were supposed to be here, I was honestly afraid I would never see them again.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he said and hung up the phone.

  I sat at my desk, cheeks a little flushed on the verge of crying with relief when it struck me – I just had to share the good news. I called Jared without even thinking in my excitement.

  “Hey, what’s up?” he asked.

  I squealed, yes, squealed like an excited teenager, and told him the good news.

  “The movers are coming tomorrow with our things!”

  “Ha ha! That’s great,” he said. “Want me to see if I can maybe come by?”

  “That would be great,” I said. “But you’ve already done so much. I don’t want to take you away from your work. I feel like I have so much already.”

  “Cady, baby, in case you haven’t noticed – I enjoy the time I get to spend with you, and I’d like to do more of it if you’ll let me.”

  I quieted and went still.

  “You really mean that, don’t you?” I asked softly. I could almost hear him smile over the line.

  “Yeah, I do. Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t,” he answered.

  “Okay,” I said, nodding to myself.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Okay.” I smiled and blushed, and that effervescent feeling in the pit of my stomach started up anew.

  “I’ve got to go for right now. I’ll see you soon,” he said.

  “Alright, bye for now,” I said.

  “Bye for now,” he said and hung up.

  I set my phone down and stared at it for a long moment before giggling insanely.

  The back door opened, and Marc called out, “Hey, Mom!”

  “In the office, baby!” I called back and he came to find me.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” he said, then frowned slightly. “What’s up with you?”

  I grinned. “The movers are coming with our things.”

  “Oh yeah?” He looked as surprised about it as I felt.

  “Yep.”

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  He frowned then. “I’m going to be at school.”

  “That’s alright. We’ll figure it out,” I said.

  “But that’s not fair – wait, who’s ‘we?’” he asked, sharp and perceptive as ever.

  “Jared’s going to try and come over to help.”

  He straightened up and looked relieved. He said, “Oh, nice!”

  “Is it?” I asked, eyeing my son.

  “Yeah, he’s cool. I like him.”

  I stared at my son for a heartbeat too long and he rolled his eyes. “Get it, Mom,” he said, and I felt my eyes widen, and the blush that overtook me was a furious one. Marc burst out laughing and I spun on my chair and faced my drafting table.

  “Out!” I cried. “Get out! You little shit!” This of course just made him laugh even harder, all the way down the hall and up the stairs. I could still hear him howling through the ceiling as I dropped my face into my hands and sighed.

  I was so not ready. He was not allowed to be this grown up!

  Good Lord, have mercy, I thought.

  The arrival of the moving truck was heralded by the roar of motorcycles – not the sound one expects – so when the knock fell at my front door, I was confused at first. When I opened my door, my confusion only deepened.

  “Cadence Mitchell?” The biker stood tall, his iron-gray and dark, long hair pulled back tight, yet still frizzed in a static crackle around his head backlit by the morning sun as it was. His gear was road worn and dirty, his face prematurely wrinkled and sun damaged, a pair of wraparound black sunglasses reflecting me back at myself.

  “Yes?” I asked, intimidated.

  “Your stuff’s here,” he said. “You want we should bring it up through here?” He looked down the stairs to my narrow front porch and I swallowed hard, looking past him to the moving truck on the street. The driver leaned out his window, another biker standing on the ground below him, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Oh, um, it would be easier to bring in through the back,” I said. “There’s an access alley off of Bader Street, just there.” I pointed past my neighbor’s house at the corner, and he followed my pointing finger.

  He smiled at me and with a polite nod, said, “I got ‘cha.” He turned and gestured, yelling instructions at the driver. I paled as my eyes roved his back and the faded colors of the big patches there.

  The Sacred Hearts…


  I listened to enough true crime podcasts to know there were a lot of unsolved cases attributed to them. Some of them stomach-churningly brutal. Others weren’t unsolved at all and there were members of The Sacred Hearts scattered throughout the prison system all over the U.S. and even Canada. Maybe even a few other countries.

  Holy fuck! What were they doing here?

  My answer rode up, pulling to a smooth stop at the curb and I felt myself blanch all over again.

  Jared looked… okay, he looked really good all decked out in black leather but still, when he said he belonged to a motorcycle club, I had never imagined that it was The Sacred Hearts!

  “Hey,” he said breathlessly after jogging up the walk and taking my front porch steps two at a time.

  I leaned back and pulled my front door shut so Marc wouldn’t hear. Jared’s face sort of closed off when I turned back.

  “What’s all this?” I asked, carefully defensive, more than a little scared.

  You knew it was too good to be true, that derisive voice whispered from the back of my mind.

  “What?” he asked, and he looked like he was confused but not surprised.

  “The Sacred Hearts?” I asked and shifted nervously.

  He smiled and it would have been endearing if my nerves weren’t running wild, anxiety fizzing thoroughly and with great speed through my entire body with a vibration that set me to feeling like I was on a whole other plane of existence.

  “I told you I was in a club,” he said.

  “But The Sacred Hearts?” I asked, the bitter taste of fear coating the inside of my mouth.

  He reached out and I stood my ground. I would not flinch. Marc was just inside, and I had to reevaluate a few things. I didn’t know if I wanted me and my son anywhere near the level of criminal activity associated with Jared’s so-called club.

  Holy Shit…

  “Yeah, The Sacred Hearts,” he said evenly. “Why? Is that a problem?” He sounded almost… I don’t know, hurt?

  “I…” I closed my mouth and took a deep breath. “I’ve got to say, I don’t know, Jared.” I crossed my arms over my stomach and bit my lips together, surprised to find I was hurting, disappointment weighting my heart like a stone. “They – you have quite the reputation.”

 

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