by Amber Burns
“Don’t fall asleep on me,” she barked out getting me back to my senses.
“Don’t feel so damn good under me and I’ll consider it,” I grunted and hefted her up. I crawled the both of us into the center of the bed before I finally flopped down. I was still half on her, but mostly because I wasn’t ready to let her go. “This will have to be good enough,” I buried my nose in her tangled hair.
“You made a mess on me,” she reminded me.
“So you’re stuck with me,” I yawned. “You can shower later.”
11
I had been sleeping so comfortably. I was warm in my bed, and I could have gone back to sleep if it weren’t for the dragging fingernails tracing along my back. It wasn't a bad sensation. If anything, it made me shiver, and I could feel my cock start to stiffen.
“You keep doing that, and you're gonna have to handle the consequences,” I warned her.
“You were supposed to take me to the club to convince me that they're not bad people,” she gave my shoulder a light pinch. “Looking at you though, I guess I'm convinced. How do you be in a biker gang for a year and not have a single tattoo?” She snorted at something she apparently found amusing. “They probably know you're a cop. I bet you stick out like a sore thumb.”
“Pick one out, and I'll get it,” I turned my head to see her.
She was propped up on my pillows, her hair a mess of tangled curls around her face. She looked so good I didn't fight to keep my hands off of her. She gave me a smirk and scooted away before reaching down to slap my ass solidly.
“Property of Tara,” she smiled. “Right here in big bold letters.”
“You laying claim on me?” I caught her arm and tugged her back to me, “Do that, and you’ll never be rid of me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
She closed the distance between us and kissed me. I shifted over her more than ready to entertain the erection that had popped up. She tugged away from me and gave me a solid smack to my ass again.
“You were supposed to do something, remember?”
“I can think of something to do,” I caught her chin and tilted it up.
I attacked her exposed neck with my tongue and teeth. It's not hard to believe how I could wake up with a second wind so quickly, it had been a goddamn year.
“No,” she gasped out, giving me a harder hit. “Work! Miller! Get your head out of the gutter and into the job,” she barked.
I stilled, breathing her in as I tried to do as commanded. “What about it?”
“If they aren't the bad guys, how are you going to prove it?” She edged away, relaxing into my pillow again and watching me with narrowed eyes. “Think about what happened last night, after that how are you so sure they're not criminals?”
“I know it,” I didn't have an explanation as to how I knew it, I just did.
She sighed at me, “How do you prove it? Especially if you rode to a rival gang and opened fire on them.”
I rolled onto my back, putting some distance between us so I could think about what she said.
“If I'm in the Boneyard Brotherhood, there's a chance there's someone in the Crazy Aces, right?”
“Is that really their names?” She scoffed. I raised an eyebrow at her, and seeing the disbelief on her face, and nodded. “That’s so cliché it’s not even funny,” she shook her head. “Probably,” she shrugged. “If this is a state wide then definitely. I can’t tell for sure. I’m not really in on it outside of playing the part of your girlfriend. What I can do is see if I can’t find out how many gangs are involved, maybe Captain would know and would feel like shedding some light on the situation.”
I nodded because it sounded like a better idea than going head to head with this other group.
“It’s a club, not a gang,” I corrected.
She snorted and sat up, “I’ll be considerate and leave out the part that you’re in too deep.”
“And the part that you’re not so much a pretend girlfriend anymore?”
“That can stay between us,” she got up and found her way into the bathroom. “I probably shouldn’t go to the clubhouse with you, yet. I’ll do what I can behind the scenes, but you need to make a better effort to keep their noses clean and proving to everyone listening that they’re not bad guys. Being distant isn’t going to help that.”
“I’ll be sure to show my face more,” I promised, though I had already planned on going to the clubhouse. “If the shit from last night blows up into something bigger, is there any way to stop it before it gets worse?”
Tara lingered at the door, watching me with something that looked like pity. It made my stomach turn a little.
“Turn them in.”
I was more than positive that wouldn’t fix it. As a cop, I knew that was something she would’ve said.
12
I got to the clubhouse to see a medium size crowd taking up the main room. Several groups were piled at tables, and the bar seemed relatively empty. I made a beeline for the end of it, still buzzing from the morning I spent with Tara. I sat on a stool and just turned to watch the men. If I hadn’t alienated myself, I would be among them and not sitting at the bar by myself. It was a sobering thought, I would have friends here if it weren’t for me pulling away. It made the past year seem dark and depressing, I knew it had been. I lived in a numbing routine for so long that the spark from the night before and the fire that sprang between Tara and I seemed to burn away every bit of depression I felt before.
I just had to figure out a new way to keep things on the down low with these guys, how to keep them off the radar so that there couldn’t be any busts. It would be harder if anything came up from last night. I could only hope that Tara had something after today about how to deal with it.
“What do you want, Stranger?” I turned around to see Cindy at the bar, her features twisted up in a look of distaste and she eyed me like I insulted her.
“Food? A beer? The usual?” I eyed her in return, I figured if anyone had any suspicion of me it’d probably be Cindy. “How are things?” I turned to her and leaned forward on the bar. “You look good,” I offered. I wasn’t above buttering her up.
“You’d know if you’d been here,” she snapped at me.
I grimaced, well I deserved that. “I had issues come up,” that seemed like a good excuse, I guess I could go with the truth.
“And those issues aren’t still around?” She raised a penciled in eyebrow at me.
“They’re working out,” I shrugged helplessly.
“I’ll feed you,” she narrowed her eyes further at me. “But you’re going to make up for your absence.”
“You bet,” I resigned. I wasn’t above washing dishes. “Feed me, and I’ll come scrub your kitchen.”
Her lip curled and I thought for a second she was going to say something snide. Instead, she sniffed and growled out: “I’m going to hold you to that.”
Cindy disappeared into the kitchen, and I had the relief of knowing that Cindy didn’t change at all. I looked back to the rest present and noted the eyes on me. Cole glowered at me for a moment, for what I didn’t know, before giving me a nod. I returned it, trying to shake off the creeping feeling that man suddenly induced.
It seemed like as soon as Cindy disappeared, though, all hell broke loose. The first loud pop of a hand gun didn’t seem to register. Everyone stilled and seemed to listen, at the second someone hollered out: “Get down! Everyone get down!”
Everyone present hit the floor, and I followed suit because I could hear the increased shots going off. It wasn’t an automatic, not even a semi. The fuckers shooting at the clubhouse didn’t have equipment that would penetrate the cinder block, but it would be stupid to not be cautious when someone was shooting at you. The sound of breaking glass seemed to be louder than the gunshots, at least to me. They probably weren’t concentrating on the building, not if they had half a brain. There was a pause, and I looked up to see Cole stand and then race to the door. He had a gun of
his own in his hand and fired shots in return. Soon, the rest of the men on the floor became active, ready to engage the enemy.
“Crazy Aces don’t conform to anyone’s rule, motherfuckers!” I heard crowed through the broken windows.
Of course, we should have known what would happen after last night.
I gritted my teeth, angry I didn’t have a gun. I left my pistol at home. Instead of going into the fray, I decided to start looking for anyone that might be injured, it seemed like the brighter of ideas. I moved down the length of the bar, crouched over just in case one of those dumbasses got off a lucky shot. I came across Danny, he had his hands over his head, and I could hear him whispering off a hurried prayer. I tapped his shoulder: “You okay, man?”
He jumped and looked up at me, his dark features managing to look pale and sickly. “I didn’t expect this shit to happen so soon!”
I gave his shoulder a solid squeeze, and I could see where his head was. I didn’t know if the guy had worked any tours in the sandbox, it wasn’t something I had bothered to learn while we worked in the kitchen. With my distance, I didn’t make connections with my brothers like I should’ve, but I could still see he was shaken.
“It’ll be over in a sec,” I assured him. “Cole is running them off. Are you hurt?”
It took him a little while before he shook his head, “I didn’t get hit.”
“Get up and start checking to make sure no one needs help,” I instructed. “Stay low, but holler if you run into anyone with serious injuries.”
Giving him something to do, something important, seemed to be the right idea. He immediately nodded, got to his hands and knees so he could check on the next guy.
The gun fire seemed to die down, so I stood up and called out: “Anyone hurt?”
“Stay down,” someone barked in return. “Wait for the all’s clear.” It was an older man that was glowering at me like I didn’t have any sense.
I looked away when I noticed he didn’t seem to be hurt: “Anyone hit, call out.”
Wilson came barreling out of the office door, Ted just behind him, “Shut up!” He surveyed the room with the majority of the people on the ground, “If you are injured come to the office. If you aren’t hurt get to the bar and shut the fuck up. If you can’t get up, call out for help!”
A woman stood, she looked afraid, but it didn’t keep her from answering: “I’m a nurse! I can help!”
I took that to mean that it was done. I made an effort to touch each person, help guys up off the floor and make sure everyone was okay. I worked my way back into the kitchen and found Cindy in the freezer.
“What the fuck happened?” She demanded when she saw me.
“Assholes,” I helped her out and rubbed her arms. “Are you hurt? Do you feel woozy or anything? There’s a lady at the office that’s a nurse, go see her.”
“Quit babying me, boy,” she tugged away in response. “What the fuck happened?”
“We went on a ride through the area and found some assholes in our territory. We told them to shape up or ship out, and that was them telling us no,” I snapped back. “Now go see the fucking nurse and make sure you are okay.”
She looked like I insulted her, but instead of arguing she eased out of the kitchen. I noticed she moved a little slower, God damn stubborn women.
I took the time to turn everything off in the kitchen, just in case. Cindy worked with gas appliances, and it’d be a damn shame if something hit back here. Luckily, the kitchen was in the back, and there didn’t appear to be any damage.
“If you ain’t hurt,” Cole barked from the front, “go outside and assess the damages. See if your bike was hit or anyone else’s was hit. If you worked the shop be out there and help assess the damage.” I made my way out of the kitchen to do as commanded as Cole continued: “If you don’t know shit about fixing a bike then stand guard. That was enough noise to get the attention of the folks around us. Do not, I repeat, do not have a gun on you. Stand look out and watch for the cops.”
When I got out front, I saw that the majority of the shots fired were aimed at the bikes and not specifically at the building, aside from hitting the windows. Tires were blown out, and a few had holes in the gas tanks. Gasoline soaked the ground, and I could only groan at the time it would take to get it cleaned up.
“Go in teams of two to check on our neighbors, make sure no one outside of the club was hurt!” That was Ted, and I looked around at the men that were grimacing at the damage before I decided to take action.
Ricky was crouched over eyeing the gas on the ground, Danny had his hands in his hair as he looked at his own bike his expression looked pained. I saw Greg doing something similar.
“We need start fanning out to check on the neighborhood,” I called out to the men. “Two together. C’mon Greg we’ll go east. Rick, get Danny and go west.”
“This gas is a hazard,” Ricky said as he got up. “I’d clean it up, but we’re better off leaving as much evidence of the attack as we can for the po-po.”
I always hated that nickname, but I tried to ignore it and just nodded before issuing more orders: “We’ll make it quick, do a cursory look over on the buildings then come back. Don’t worry about talking to people, let law enforcement do it. Let’s get to it.”
I clapped my hands and got to jogging, Greg gave one last pained groan before he went to catch up with me. We went a block, I wasn’t sure how far Wilson would want to go, but it was pretty clear we were the only targets. The clubhouse and the bikes in front of it were the only things with damage. I did see eyes peeking out of blinds, and there was one man standing outside the store front.
“What the hell is going on?” he asked angrily. “We didn’t ask for any of this shit to happen around here. Clarence said y’all wouldn’t be trouble!”
“It wasn’t us,” Greg snapped, but I kept him walking.
“Don’t take the bait,” I said as we started back towards the clubhouse. “It’s a good chance that he called the cops to make a complaint, let’s not give him more ammunition. Just let him talk about what happened,” I patted Greg's shoulder and waved at Ricky as soon as he came into shot. “What’d you see?”
“Nothing,” he frowned at me. “They didn’t look smart with how they hit us, but they weren’t completely reckless with their shots.” He rubbed the hair on his chin, “I think we underestimated them a whole lot more than Wilson first thought.”
“What are your thoughts?” I asked Greg curiously, I didn’t think he would have seen anything different than I.
“Our neighbor is probably going to lodge a list of complaints after this,” he jerked a thumb back towards the way we came. “He complain much before?”
“That’s a second-hand store he’s running next door,” Ricky informed us as he worked a cigarette out. He offered me one, I shook my head, and then he offered one to Greg who took it like he offered him water. “He usually bitches about the motorcycle noise we make. But aside from coming and going, we’re pretty quiet. If you’ve never been talked to about noise, then you’re not an issue. One of the ways we keep the pigs off of us is by not being seen as a nuisance. If you look clean and you offer the community a good bit of support, then you could get away with murder. Part of Wade’s problem is that business is slow. He just doesn’t realize that business is slow for us, too.”
I didn’t let the pigs crack get to me either. I nodded like I knew what he was talking about. I didn’t let them lighting up phase me either. Something about the service made some people need vices to keep their heads straight. Cigarettes and alcohol were favorites, like hitting the gym until it was hard to move for others. It took me a minute to register what he said though, they used what they did for the community as a cover to do other things. The wire I wore caught all of that. I fought the urge to ask the question that was on the tip of my tongue. What were they doing that was illegal?
“What about the Crazy Aces?” I managed instead.
“Let the complaints
come, the pigs will realize it wasn’t something we did. The party we had last night wasn’t pinned back to us by the Aces. We’re not in trouble. But with as close as our neighbors are, we can’t help it if they make reports.” Ricky turned and led the way back to the lot. “We can’t do a cleanup, but we need to take care of the gas on the ground before some dumbass throws a butt into it and lights us up. We gotta make sure they get their evidence before we can do anything.”
I nodded like I didn’t know what he was talking about.
The shop guys were quick to assess damages. Sid’s was called in after the local sheriff was there. Two cars were sent, and I couldn’t help but feel a little frustration at that. If someone had been hurt, there’d been more. As an outsider, it seemed like there should be more.