by RB Hilliard
“So, let me see if I have this straight. Even though you knew this Marta bitch was bad news, you still made her cookies and showed up at her house unannounced. What the fuck were you thinking?”
She scowled. “I was thinking that I could work out a deal with her. How was I supposed to know she lived on the scary side of ghettoville or that her boyfriend was a greasy scab of a human being? This kid is special, Arlan. He deserves a chance to shine.”
White-hot anger at her stupidity made him lash out. “So what? You want me to beat up Dario for you? Maybe scuff up his woman a little, so she’ll see your side of things? Is that why you’re here?”
She reared back as if he’d slapped her. “What? No! God, is that what you think of me, that I’d use you like that?”
No, he didn’t. His brow slowly lifted. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
A curse slipped from her pretty little mouth as she pushed to her feet and glared down at him. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Even angry, she was breathtaking.
Chapter Seven
“YOU KNOW WHAT? As it turns out, I don’t need your help after all. Thanks for nothing.”
“Sit down,” Steele ordered.
“Fuck you, I’m leaving.” Her voice cracked, and his chest squeezed. He’d pushed her too far.
“I know who Dario Peña is and exactly what he’s capable of.” He motioned to the chair. “Now, please, sit and finish your story.” A myriad of expressions crossed her face as she hovered over his desk. His gaze dropped to her body, and he noticed she’d lost weight. Her curves were still there, but barely, and he wondered why. A long moment passed before defiance turned to resignation, and she dropped back to her seat.
“You said Peña,” she quietly stated.
“Huh?”
“You said his last name is Peña, but that doesn’t make sense, because that’s Tad’s last name, and Tad said Dario is not his dad.”
“Dario’s brother, Junior, was married to Tad’s mother.” It didn’t take long for her to connect the dots, and her lip curled in disgust.
“And just when I think it can’t get any worse, it does. For the record, I would never ask you to hurt someone for me.”
He rarely apologized but felt she deserved it. “I know. I’m sorry. Now, please, tell me what happened.”
“Marta didn’t bite. She said Tad was eighteen and didn’t have to go to school, then she took my cookies and told me to get the fuck out of her house. On the way to my car, I heard yelling coming from the back of the house. I thought Dario was hurting Tad, so I decided to check it out.”
Steele closed his eyes and shook his head. Stupid woman.
As if reading his thoughts, she said, “Trust me, I know it was stupid.
“What did you see?” he asked.
“There were four men, but from where I stood, I could only get a clear view of Dario and the guy standing next to him. By the time I noticed the gun in the guy’s hand, it was too late.” Her voice lowered to an almost whisper as she leaned in. “He shot the guy across from him, Arlan, and I’m pretty sure he killed him.”
He took a moment to think it through. It was probably a drug deal gone bad. “Did they see you?”
“I didn’t think so at the time, but earlier tonight, after dinner with my friend Meg, I found Dario inside my house.”
What the fuck? “What do you mean he was in your house?”
She explained how she smelled cigarette smoke, dropped her key, discovered the cigarette butt, and found him standing inside her house.
Frowning, he asked, “Was the alarm on?” She gave him a sheepish look, and his brows shot to the roof. “Fuck, woman, seriously?”
She waved him off. “I know, I know.”
Dario was a nuisance. First, he talked shit about their club and now this? It looked as if they needed to pay him a little visit. Steele didn’t want to owe the douchebag any favors, but for Luciana, he would take the risk. Who knew, maybe they could use it to their advantage.
“Don’t worry. I can handle Dario.”
Her teeth scraped nervously over her lip. “There’s more.”
“Go on.”
“Before coming here, I went to the police station. After waiting twenty or so minutes, I was ushered back to a large room filled with desks, and told I was to see an Officer Gamble.” She leaned in, and in that same low tone that he was beginning not to like, said, “I recognized him. Officer Gamble is the shooter.”
It took him a moment to process her words. “What do you mean, he’s the shooter?”
“He was looking down when I entered the room, but then he looked up, and I instantly recognized him. It was the same guy, I swear. He looked right at me, and I thought I was going to die. When I realized he didn’t recognize me, I hightailed it out of there. I tried to call you but got your voicemail. I wasn’t about to tell you in a voicemail, so I drove to Salvatore’s and ran into Petey in the parking lot.”
That explains how she found me. He made a mental note to talk to Petey about it later.
“Don’t get mad at Petey. I threatened to tell his dad that he was dealing drugs from the parking lot if he didn’t tell me where the clubhouse was.”
Christ, was she a mind reader? He was beginning to think so. “Okay, back up a minute. You’re telling me that the blond guy with the gun—the same one who shot the guy in Dario’s yard—is the cop you saw at the police station? Are you absolutely sure? Before answering, think about it.”
“I know it sounds crazy, but I swear it was the same guy.”
Steele sat back in his chair and stared at her. What the hell had she gotten herself into? Dario was bad enough, but Dario and dirty cops? Fucking hell. He thought of his brother, who was a detective on the force. Carver would probably know the guy, but to ask meant he had to actually deal with him, and their relationship was tenuous at best.
He was deep in thought when Luciana asked, “Is this your office?”
Without thinking, he answered, “MmmHmm.” His eyes snapped to hers, and he tried not to flinch when he realized his mistake.
She speared him with a questioning look. “Who exactly are you?”
“Arlan,” he answered, clearly being obtuse.
“Arlan who?” He was going to have to come clean sometime, might as well be now.
“Steele,” he replied, and her jaw dropped.
“As in Steele Raiders, Steele?” Smart woman. Took her all of three seconds to figure it out. He nodded. “You’re the . . . boss?” she whispered.
“President,” he corrected and waited for her to blast him. What he didn’t expect was for her to stand and walk out the door.
“Luciana, wait!” he called after her.
“I should never have come here!” she called over her shoulder in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. Shit, when it came to gossip, this place was worse than a whorehouse at wine time.
He caught up with her at the entry and tried to steer her back to his office. “Let me explain.”
“No thanks. I’m good.”
“Babe.”
She crossed her arms defiantly over her chest and gave him an eat shit look. “What? You don’t want everyone knowing you lied to me? That you made me believe you were a lowly member of an MC. It all makes perfect sense now. Running off whenever the phone rang, not calling when you said you would, showing up at all hours for a booty call.”
“You were never a booty call,” he growled.
“Wasn’t I, though?” Tears sparkled in her eyes. As gutted as he was to know that’s what she thought of him, this wasn’t the time nor the place. She was standing in the middle of a shitstorm and needed his protection.
She turned to leave, and he was right behind her. She managed to get the door open a crack before he pressed both hands against it and pushed it closed. “Let me go.”
His front pressed against her back, and he gently pushed her against the door, caging her in. Her sharp intake of breath told him that she felt his ere
ction against her perfect little ass. When it came to this woman, the fucker had a mind of its own.
Steele lowered his mouth to her ear and said, “I know it was a shitty thing to do, and I realize you’re upset, but that was months ago. This is now. You’re a smart woman, darlin’. The smartest I’ve ever known. You came here for a reason, to ask for my help and my protection, because you know you’re in trouble. Dario is one thing, but now that the cops are involved, I’m not sure what we’re looking at. Do you understand?” He felt her head nod. “I know I’ve broken your trust. One day maybe you’ll let me explain, but right now, I need you to dig deep and agree to let me protect you.”
“How?” she asked.
He spotted Ax and Ink, along with Shelly and Hannah, standing off to the side. The hurt expression on Hannah’s face made his jaw tick. The fact that they were seeing this just plain pissed him off. He motioned for them to leave.
Once they were out of sight, he said, “The only way I can protect you is if you stay here.”
Her head twisted sideways, and her golden-brown eyes and perfect lips were mere inches away from his. Close enough to kiss. “I can’t stay here. I have a house. A job.”
“Be smart, woman. They know where to find you. You’d be a sitting duck if you went home right now.”
He could tell he almost had her, but then she asked, “What about my job?”
“Call in sick.”
“I have maybe a week’s worth of sick leave and another of vacation, but they’ll fire me after that. I can’t lose my job, Arlan. It’s all I have.” Her tone of desperation was a chord that resonated deep inside him. He wanted to kiss her, to kiss away the cause of that ache in her voice.
“I promise you won’t lose your job. We’ll cross that bridge when the time comes. In the meantime, you’ll call in sick and stay here. Do we have an agreement?” Her eyes closed in resignation, and she sighed. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes,” she finally answered, then added, “But I’ll need my things.”
“That can be arranged. You’re making the right decision.”
She nodded, and he kissed the side of her head. Then he took a step back and released her. It was time for her to meet the rest of the crew.
As Steele steered Luciana toward the game room, he was reminded of the night she’d cut him loose—of how desperate he’d felt when she finally answered her door, and what a dick he’d been when she questioned him about it. He’d been unfair to her, to say the least. She didn’t know he’d had a shit night. That not only had Sledge’s Ol’ lady got jumped while leaving work, but that he’d spent hours on the north side of town rescuing some bitch from a ravine. She wasn’t aware that Buck, his trusted Sgt. at Arms and supposed friend, was secretly obsessed with the woman and that several of his men, including his own cousin, also had a history with her. She also didn’t know that the bitch’s fiancé was found dead on her living room floor with his head blown off and that Steele was left to clean up the mess, which meant dealing with the police, and that by just being there, he’d implicated himself and his club. Luciana didn’t know any of this because he couldn’t tell her.
Steele didn’t have many regrets, but he regretted going to her house that night. By the time he made it to her front door, he was itching for one of two things: a fuck or a fight. He wanted the fuck but got the fight. He deserved it. He’d manipulated her, lied to her about who he was and what he did, and all for his own selfish reasons. In the end, he let her go. Not because he wanted to, but because of the wounded look in her eyes. Somewhere along the way, want had turned into need, and need had morphed into something dangerous. He glanced sideways and caught her watching him. A spark of desire sizzled between them, and his cock jerked in his pants. He still wanted her and probably always would. But that didn’t matter because he’d seen the look of betrayal on her face, recognized the look of disgust.
“For the record, you were never a booty call,” he quietly repeated. She started to reply, but he moved ahead of her in order to shut down whatever she was going to say. They’d already said enough. As he stepped into the game room, all eyes turned their way, and the room fell silent.
Ushering her forward, he said, “This is Luciana. She’ll be staying with us for a while. She’s our guest, so treat her as such. Are we clear?” He stared at Shelly and Hannah—both of whom were notorious for being shitty to outsiders—and could tell by their contrite expressions they got the message. Voices of consent echoed throughout the room. “Make sure to introduce yourselves.” Turning back to Luciana, he said, “Montana will show you around the place. Make a list of what you need, and someone will get your things. I—”
“I can go with you,” she said, cutting him off.
Irritated at the interruption, he held her stare for a long moment. Her lips pursed, and he tried not to smile. “Make a list, and someone will see to it,” he repeated more firmly.
Her pretty mouth turned down into a frown. “Why, when I can go with you and get what I need?”
His jaw locked, and he gave her a hard look, one that he hoped she would heed. “Because I said so.”
Her eyes narrowed in challenge. “Can we at least discuss it?”
She’d asked for his protection and he was giving it to her. Not only that, but he was involving his club and his brothers without first getting their consent. She clearly didn’t understand what this meant, but she would. “No,” he replied. The air pulsed between them, but she was smart enough not to argue. Montana stepped up beside him and he tore his gaze from Luciana’s angry glare to give her directions. “Put her upstairs and give her what she needs, but first show her around and make sure she knows where she can and can’t go.”
“What do you mean where I can and can’t go?” she interrupted again.
His head tipped back and he blew out a breath as he stared at the ceiling. One more interruption and he would take her in hand. His cock twitched at the thought of spanking her pretty little ass. Inhaling deeply, he lowered his head back to eye level and caught the knowing smirk on Ax’s face. Of course, the fucker was enjoying this. Moving his gaze back to Luciana, he replied, “Just what I said. This isn’t your home. It’s a clubhouse, and there are rules. The sooner you learn this, the better off you’ll be. Now, Montana has you covered for tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Hurt flashed in her eyes, and he had to bite down on the urge to comfort her. On the way out the door, he said, “Ax, get Ink. I’ll be waiting in the office.”
“You got it, boss,” Ax drawled. Normally, Steele found his cousin’s antics amusing. Not tonight, and if the dickhead didn’t figure that out soon, he would have no problem showing him.
Chapter Eight
LULU’S CHEST ACHED as she watched Arlan walk out the door. A part of her wanted to go after him, to demand an explanation, to ask him not to abandon her to a bunch of strangers. While another part of her wanted to plant her foot in his ass and tell him to go to hell. She shouldn’t have come here. It was a stupid idea. Letting him go was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. From the looks of it, she was the only one having regrets about that decision. Her gaze caught on the woman in the far corner glaring daggers at her. Knowing her luck, she was probably the asshole’s wife. So many lies, she thought. Of the five remaining people in the room, no one said a word. They certainly didn’t introduce themselves. If they were trying to make her feel uncomfortable, they were doing a fine job of it.
A hand touched her arm. “I can show you around now, if you’re ready.”
“That would be great,” LuLu replied. She was more than ready to find her room and call Meg.
“I can show her around,” the corner-glarer cut in.
Montana shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Hannah. Steele told me to do it.”
“Yeah, well, Steele lets me do whatever I like, and right now, I want to show her around.” The biting words beneath her sweet tone put LuLu on edge. With her chunky-blonde highlights, leopard print jeggings, and
bowling ball boobs, she was a throwback to an unpleasant time in LuLu’s life—a reminder of why she’d hated high school and wanted to make it better for her students. There was more than one way to defuse a bully, but the best was to simply ignore them.
Threading her arm through Montana’s, she asked, “Where to first?”
Montana shot the bully an apologetic look before mumbling, “This way,” and they started for the door.
As they reached the threshold, LuLu gave Montana’s arm a quick squeeze. Montana took the gesture and stopped. Smiling, LuLu pivoted to face the unpleasant group. “It was nice to meet you all. Thanks for making me feel so welcome.” Suck a thousand dicks, she thought as they resumed walking. Once they were in the next room, she released her death grip on Montana’s arm and blew out a breath. “That went well. I think your friends really like me.”
“They’re really not that bad. I’m sorry,” Montana murmured shyly.
LuLu took in the girl’s big, brown eyes, dark pixie haircut, boyish frame, and shy demeanor, and instantly liked her. “Don’t be. They were the rude ones, not you.”
Montana smiled. “Luciana’s a pretty name.”
“Thanks, but my friends call me LuLu, and it’s not nearly as cool as Montana.”
Laughing softly, Montana said, “My parents are huge hippy’s, can you tell?” As if remembering what she was supposed to be doing, she added, “This is the sitting room that no one sits in.” As LuLu gazed around the room, she noted the ratty sofas and chairs. They could definitely use a decorator’s touch, but the dark paneled walls were by far the jewel of the room. She could tell just by looking at them that the wood was real and not faux.
“How old is this place?”
Montana shrugged. “Ax says it used to be a whorehouse.”
They moved across the room and she tried to recall who Ax was. She thought he was the dark-haired biker who’d called Arlan boss. Arlan had corrected her when she called him boss. President, he’d said. She gave a mental snort. More like dictator.