by RB Hilliard
She slept until noon the next day, something she hadn’t done since college, and woke feeling refreshed and resolved. She spent the afternoon doing her routine Sunday house cleaning, before meeting Meg for an impromptu dinner at Salvatore’s. Silvia had the night off, but Donny and Petey were there. As usual, Donny plied them with wine and good food, while Petey entertained them with stories. The boy had some wild ones. It was hard not to tell her best friend about Dario and the shooting. They told each other everything, but LuLu’s gut warned her to keep it quiet, so she did.
Being Sunday and a school night, she parted with Meg after dinner and drove the three blocks back home, her mind on how to approach Tad if he was at school the next day. When she exited the car and smelled the nauseating scent of cigarette smoke, her nose crinkled in disgust. It reminded her of her mother, who’d been an avid smoker. The doctors hadn’t said it, but LuLu knew the awful habit had contributed to her death. Shaking the morbid thoughts from her head, she stepped to the door and dug in her bag for her house key. As she pulled it out, it slipped from her fingers and dropped to the ground. Cursing under her breath, she bent to pick it up and froze. On the middle step, like an asp waiting to strike, sat a cigarette butt. She plucked the key from the ground, but instead of inserting it into the lock, she leaned sideways and peered through the vertical window that bordered her door. Movement in her living room made her heart leap into her throat. Someone was in her house. She’d barely formed the thought when Dario stepped into the mouth of the hallway and directly into her line of sight. Fear whipped through her as she sucked in a sharp breath and ducked. In a low crouch, she stumbled down the steps and scrambled for her car.
She was halfway to the police station before she realized where she was going. Shit, she couldn’t go there! She pulled her car to the side of the road and weighed her options. It was pretty simple; there were none. How was she supposed to explain it? I didn’t think he was really dead, officer. Plus, I really like my job. What was she thinking? Of course, Dario and his thugs had seen her. And now they were inside her house! Her job wouldn’t matter one iota if she were dead. She had no choice but to go to the police. With a death grip on her steering wheel, she pressed her foot on the gas and pulled back onto the road.
“I need to report a crime,” she told the officer sitting behind the front desk. At first glance, she reminded LuLu of the British actress who played Queen Elizabeth in a television series she’d recently watched. Olivia something or other was her name. The officer’s name tag read “Jones.”
“Name?” Officer Jones asked in a flat, lifeless tone. Definitely not Olivia, LuLu thought as she gave her name. “Have a seat, and someone will be right with you.” She took the seat across from Officer Jones’s desk and focused on what to say when they questioned her.
After twenty or so minutes, Officer Jones took pity on her. “Come on, I’ll take you back.” LuLu gave her a bright smile as she picked up her purse and followed her down a long hallway.
“Jones, you’re needed at the front desk!” a voice called from behind them as they halted in the doorway of a large room.
“They crawl out of the woodwork the second I leave,” she muttered, before yelling “Be right there!”
“Officer Gamble’s desk is in the far-right corner. He’ll get you settled,” she told LuLu.
LuLu thanked her and stepped inside the noisy room. Her eyes scanned over the room before landing on the far-right corner and Officer Gamble’s desk. His head was down, so all she could make out was the top of his blond head. Her mind raced for what to say as she moved toward his desk. I’ll tell him I was in the neighborhood and was worried about my student, so I decided to stop by.
“Excuse me,” someone called from behind her.
“Oh, sorry.” She stepped aside and waited for two carts filled with papers and such to pass by. While waiting, she glanced to make sure Officer Gamble was still at his desk. Their eyes locked, and recognition hit her like a punch to the gut. She froze, her heart racing like crazy inside her chest, and she waited for him to say something, to yell or whip out his gun and shoot her dead, but all he did was blink. When his eyes dropped back to whatever he was looking at, she realized he didn’t recognize her. Air gushed from her lungs as she pivoted around and quickly walked out of the room.
By the time she hit the entrance, her adrenaline had crashed, and she was starting to shake.
Unfortunately, she caught Officer Jones’ eye. “That was quick. Was he not there? I can call him for you!”
LuLu waved her off. “That’s okay. Thanks, anyway,” she said as she pushed open the door and bolted out into the night.
She barely made it back to her car before the enormity of the situation fully hit her. The shooter is a fucking police officer! She flung open her car door and threw her purse onto the passenger seat, before jumping in and locking it behind her. Slamming her hands on the steering wheel, she let out a scream of frustration. It took a few minutes to calm down and to come to grips with the fact that she was in deep, deep shit. Shit that she could no longer navigate by herself. So, what now? Dario was in her house. The shooter was a cop. She had nowhere to go. That thought made her pause because it wasn’t exactly true. She had one person she could turn to. He said to call if she needed him. What other choice did she have?
Worry flared inside her as she plugged in her phone and began searching for his number. What if he refused to help? Several policemen exited the building, their voices carrying across the parking lot. With her stomach tied in knots and her heart beating out of her chest, LuLu pressed the button. As she pulled onto the empty street, heading for who knows where, the ringing of his phone echoed throughout the vehicle.
“Please answer,” she whispered. Four rings later, his voicemail picked up, “You’ve got me, now talk—” She disconnected the call, her mind scrambling for what to do next. She could go to Meg’s, but deep in her gut she knew that Arlan was her safest choice. It was a good thing she knew just where to find him.
Chapter Six
THE PURPLE-LIGHTED SALVATORE’S sign welcomed her as she pulled into the parking lot. She was thinking about how to approach Donny when she spotted Petey schmoozing on some poor girl by the dumpsters, and an idea hit. She didn’t need to ask Donny because Petey would tell her. The two lovebirds were so into it they didn’t hear her approach, so she had to clear her throat, which startled them both.
“Jesus, LuLu, announce yourself next time!” Petey shouted.
She held up her hands and tried to look apologetic. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to know where to find Arlan.”
His brow creased. “Who?”
LuLu gritted her teeth. Why the man didn’t give her his last name was beyond her. “Arlan, you know, big Biker Man with salt and pepper hair. A member of the Steele Raiders MC.”
Recognition hit. “Oooh, that Arlan. He’s not here right now.” Lord, the boy was dense.
“I know that. I need to know where he is.”
Petey looked at her as if she was the idiot. “How am I supposed to know where he is?”
“Where is his clubhouse, Petey?” she all but shouted.
“Down the road, why?” he asked, eyeing her skeptically. He was beginning to catch on.
“Because I need to speak to him,” she calmly explained.
“So, call him.”
LuLu bit down on the curse word that was about to fly from her mouth. “I did, and he didn’t answer. Now I need you to tell me where the clubhouse is.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. The clubhouse is for members only and, well, other people they let in, but they’re not like you.”
Glaring at him, she thought, so much for taking the easy road. “If you don’t tell me where that clubhouse is right now, Petey Salvatore, I’m going to march my ass inside and tell your dad that you’ve been dealing drugs from his parking lot.” The girl gasped, and Petey flinched.
“Jesus, keep your wig on. I’ll tell y
ou,” he grumbled.
LuLu missed the turn to the clubhouse three times before a Harley blasted by her. She had to do sixty-five down a dirt road in order not to lose him and nearly cheered when she saw where he turned. Rocks clanged against the bottom of the car as she crept up the drive and stopped at a twelve-foot, ominous-looking gate.
A giant of a man stepped from a steel-plated guardhouse. She cranked down her window and called out, “Hi, I’m looking for Arlan.”
“Who?” the man asked.
Seriously, this again? “Arlan. He’s a member of your club. He’s muscular with salt and pepper hair and a beard—” Her words faded as the guy pulled out his phone and placed it against his ear.
“Some lady is here. Says she’s looking for Arlan.” Whatever the person said on the other end must have been funny because he busted into laughter. “Your name?” he asked, still laughing.
“Luciana,” she replied sweetly.
“Luciana,” he repeated. A long moment passed, then suddenly his eyes flicked to her, and his expression sobered. “Uhh, go on through, Ma’am. St–, I mean, Arlan will be waiting at The Cave for you.”
She thanked him and he nodded. The gate slowly opened, and butterflies erupted inside her belly. She was finally going to see her Biker Man again.
Rocks and dirt clods continued pelting her car as she cautiously made her way up the road. Seriously, couldn’t they afford to pave the damn thing? The answer came half a second later when dirt turned into smooth concrete.
Large, red maple trees lined both sides of the drive. Their thick trunks obscured her view and their tall canopies made her feel as if she was driving through a tunnel. A quarter of a mile further, the trees gave way, and the view opened up. Squinting through her headlights, she could see a barbed wire fence on her left and an open field on her right, but what caught her attention was the enormous red-brick structure looming ahead in the distance. Three stories tall, it was lit up like a beacon in the night.
As she got closer, a matching garage and grassy yard came into view. Several people were gathered around a firepit. She wasn’t sure what a motorcycle club was supposed to look like, but something told her this wasn’t normal. The place was huge. Bigger than huge, it was vast. She drove in front of the building and pulled into an empty spot. Nerves ate at her stomach as she sat staring at the building. Arlan had spoken of it, but he’d left a lot out, such as how enormous it was. Once again, she was reminded of how little he’d shared with her, how little she knew about him. A figure peeled away from the shadows of the porch and stepped into the glow of her headlights. Her heart thrummed inside her chest as she drank in the sight of him. He looked the same, possibly better. Her belly flip-flopped as he stalked down the steps in her direction, his icy gaze pinned on her face. What if he refused to help her? His cold stare seared through her as he halted outside her car door. Here goes nothing, she thought, and reaching for the handle, she pushed the door open.
“Luciana, what are you doing here?” His deep voice dripped with irritation. And just like that, her stomach plummeted to the floorboard. He told her to call if she needed him, claimed he would be there for her no matter what. Well, here she was, and he was being rude.
Squaring her shoulders, she looked straight into his gorgeous gray eyes and said, “I’m in trouble and I need your help.”
_______________
When Ink told Steele that Tiny was at the gate with a woman named Luciana, his chest constricted to the point he could barely breathe. He was just starting to get past her, had stopped thinking about her every damn second of every day, and here she was at his fucking clubhouse. While waiting for her to arrive, he checked his phone, saw that she’d called, and cursed himself for forgetting to turn the ringer back on after his earlier meeting with Loco and Taz, his two enforcers. How did she find him? At this point, it didn’t matter. She was here. First, he would hear her out. Then, he would send her on her way. The apprehensive expression on her face when she spotted him standing on the porch made his gut twist. Something was wrong. When he asked what she wanted, her golden eyes sparked, and the flame he’d tried for two damn months to snuff out reignited in a fiery blaze. He hadn’t forgotten. She’d let him go. When he needed her most she’d kicked him out of her house and out of her life. His jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists as he fought the emotions warring inside him. He didn’t want to want her. Good thing it was dark outside because his goddamn cock sure wanted her.
When she told him she was in trouble and needed his help, everything—his anger, hurt, lust—faded away. The thought of someone or something hurting her, scaring her enough to seek him out, took precedence above all else.
“Come.” He held out his hand.
Placing her hand in his, she blew out a relieved breath, and he pulled her from the car. Hand in hand, they made their way up the front steps to the door.
“I’m sorry. I know this is an inconvenience, but I had no one else to turn to.” Like warm whiskey, the low, raspy notes in her voice washed over him. Fuck, he’d missed her. He’d missed talking to her, laughing with her, fucking her deliciously tight pussy. He wanted to touch more than her hand. The urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her pretty mouth ate at him, and he knew if he didn’t let go, he was going to do something stupid. Using the door as an excuse, he loosened his grasp on her hand and reached for the handle.
“So, this is the Bat Cave,” she nervously teased as he opened the door and ushered her inside.
Steele scowled when he saw Ink, Ax, and Cupcake loitering in the entry. One look at Luciana and their eyes lit up like a bunch of horny teenagers. When they saw the stern expression on his face, they melted back into the woodwork. Smart men.
“This way,” he told her. Placing his hand on her lower back, he steered her into a hallway. His office was the first door on the left, and his VP, Jake’s, was two doors down on the right. Jake, thankfully, had gone home for the night. His fingers hit the light switch, and he offered her a chair before taking a seat behind the desk. Their gazes locked and held, the attraction humming between them like a living breathing thing. Steele lowered his eyes and broke the connection. He was annoyed. After all this time, she still had a hold over him. He’d tried to shake her, to fuck her out of his system, to forget her, but as the proof of his failure sat across from him, all he wanted to do was touch her.
“Talk to me,” he ordered.
With a tight nod of her head, she began, “I have this student. He’s brilliant. I’m talking merit scholar material. He’s missed a lot of school, and if he misses anymore, he’ll have to sit hours. Either that, or his mom will be fined by the state. There’s no way she’ll pay, not without a lot of coercing.” She paused to make sure he was with her. He had no idea where this was going but encouraged her to continue. “Friday afternoon, on the drive home from school, I decided to take things into my own hands. I thought if I took her cookies she would hear me out, so I baked them cookies and made an impromptu stop at their house yesterday morning.”
He held up his hand, and she paused. “You took her. . . cookies?” He couldn’t help but smirk.
“Yes, I made cookies.”
“Must be some damn good cookies,” he muttered.
“They are,” she snapped. “Now, would you please let me finish?”
“By all means,” he drawled, and smiled when her eyes flashed with irritation. Jesus, he’d missed her smart mouth.
“Marta, his mom, is not a nice person. You see, she’s an alcoholic, but I think it’s much worse than that. I’m pretty sure she’s also into drugs.”
His brow shot up in surprise. “She tried to sell you drugs?”
“No, but you should have seen the size of her bong. At least, I think that’s what it was. It was hanging out in her living room just as clear as day.”
Trying not to laugh, he said, “Smoking pot doesn’t make her a drug dealer, babe.”
This got him an eye roll. “Yeah, well, you should see her super s
cary boyfriend.”
That got his attention. “Did her super scary boyfriend try to sell you drugs?”
She paused to lick her lips and he wanted to throttle her. Christ, she was killing him. “Let’s just say the meeting didn’t go as planned. Marta doesn’t want Tad to go to college; she wants him to work for Dario instead. Dario’s the boyfriend,” she added, “which is a really bad idea because he’s not a good person.” Steele froze at the mention of Dario’s name. “Anyway—”
“Did you say Dario?” he asked, cutting her off.
“Yeah, that’s Marta’s boyfriend. I knew he was a nasty character but had no idea how nasty.”
Steele knew exactly how nasty Dario Peña was. It was Dario’s brother, Junior, and his fucking MC who took out Steele’s dad and half his club. Lucky for Dario, he was in prison when the hit took place, or he would have gone down with the rest of Junior’s men when Steele and his brothers retaliated. Rumor had it Dario was drugging it up while playing house with his brother’s wife. Rumor also had it that he was dealing bad blow and blaming it on Steele and his club. The guy was a piece of shit. That Luciana was even in his orbit was a very bad thing. Jesus, what was she doing with these people?