Renegade

by Shannon Myers

  I finally cleared my throat and any thoughts of proclaiming my undying love for the man on the other end of the line. “Are you working late tonight?”

  He clicked his pen and sighed. “Yep. I’m trying, Red. Believe me, I’d much rather be with you.”

  I nodded, trying to regain control of my emotions.

  “You still there?”

  I took a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m nodding.”

  I could hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “Right. I thought I sensed that. If I get out of here at a decent time, I’ll swing by.”

  “Sounds good.” My voice sounded falsely bright to my own ears, but he didn’t seem to notice. I thought I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to be his girlfriend a few days ago, but I guess I thought that it’d be like the beginning of summer where he was available more.

  Instead, he was still investigating the case of the missing model, while juggling his other cases too. I’d sacrificed dinner at seven for sex at three AM—or whatever ungodly hour he decided to step away from his desk. Not that the sex wasn’t amazing, I just wanted a deeper connection.

  Call me old-fashioned, but I wanted intimate talks over long dinners. I wanted to argue over where to eat. I wanted to take a weekend trip out of the city.

  Jesus, what I wanted was a full eight hours of sleep.

  I was starting to make stupid mistakes at work due to sleep deprivation. It wasn’t going to be long before Dr. Mulloy noticed either.

  Maybe I wasn’t cut out to be a cop’s girlfriend.

  “Hey,” Monica patted my arm, “Is everything okay?”

  I pushed the worry down and nodded. “All good. Let’s grab that dinner.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  October 2014

  “We’ve got an issue.” Grey had said before hanging up.

  It was the last thing I’d wanted to hear. Tonight was supposed to be about Lauren.

  I’d tried living by the ‘just sex’ rule. Hell, I’d done it for years before she came along. It should’ve been easy enough. All the benefits of a relationship, without actually having a relationship.

  Something strange happened though. I’d wanted her even more once she blew me off. She’d consumed my thoughts—was she seeing other guys? Was this her way of bowing out of the whole fucking thing?

  I damn near drove myself mad.

  It was official. I’d turned into a fucking chick.

  Lauren had gotten under my skin and turned me into some sort of possessive asshole. I didn’t want her with anyone else but me. I liked the idea that no one else had ever had her. No one else knew how she bit down on the left corner of her lip when she was close.

  Fuck. I wasn’t a chick. I was David.

  I was probably going to get all surly and start picking fights with strangers just for looking at her.

  Making her mine had come with its own list of problems. Like realizing the friend of hers I fucked in Galveston was actually her boss. I’d thought it was all going to come crashing down when she’d walked in. Up until then, I’d thought that taking a break to bring her breakfast would be a daily thing; a way for me to see her during the daytime hours.

  Instead, I was back to just seeing her at night. The few times I’d managed to escape early with the intention of going to her, Grey had called with club shit. On top of my other cases, I was also still actively trying to find out what happened to Katya Egorichev.

  Trying to balance it all was taking a toll on me.

  I parked outside of the city and walked up to Grey’s truck. “What do we have?”

  He gestured up the road and clenched his jaw, the veins in his neck fighting to break through his skin. “He was just a fucking kid.”

  I mentally prepared myself and headed toward the downed bike. The prospect patch was the first thing I noticed. The second was the fact that this kid had been gutted like a goddamn fish. The stab wounds overlapped so much that his back was just one giant open wound.

  I used my boot to roll him over and met the whites of his eyes. Jesus. He couldn’t have been much older than eighteen. I’d seen him around once or twice back when he was a hang-around.

  Grey spoke up. “I’m taking care of this tonight and I need your help.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, but nodded. “We thinking SOD?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t fucking know who else it would be, but seeing as to how they have a thing for knives, I’m bringing the Comedian along. I need you to make sure that this stays off the radar, unless you’re looking to earn your skull and crossbones.”

  Members who killed for the club earned a skull and crossbones patch. “Slight problem with that—I ain’t a member of your club, old man. And I’ve got no plans to patch in.”

  He slapped my shoulder after we placed the prospect in the back of his truck. “Yet. Someday you’ll come around to it. It’d be a helluva lot more fun than sitting behind a fucking desk all day.”

  He was right about that. If I’d known all that being a detective entailed, I would’ve stayed on patrol. At least with patrol, you got to see a lot of different shit before passing it off to the detectives. There was none of the working a case start to finish—you just got in and out, making sure to gather as much evidence and information as possible. The grass was always greener. When I was on patrol, I wanted to be a detective. Now that I was a detective, I longed for patrol.

  On the flip side, I was able to mask a lot more of the club’s activities than I would’ve had I remained on patrol. That seemed more like a con than a pro though.

  “Monica says your girl is over the fucking moon for you.”

  The thoughts in my head froze and I turned to him. “Who?”

  “Monica, Lauren’s mother?” Seeing that I was still thrown, he elaborated, “Torch’s ol’ lady? Dark blue Toyota that was stolen? C’mon, Mikey.”

  My palms went sweaty. Lauren’s mother had been an addict. Why in the fuck was Lauren talking to her? “So, Lauren’s mother stole her car, but they’re close now?”

  He shrugged. “I gave up trying to figure out women years ago. We did get Monica clean and sober though. It’s like night and day. I’m surprised she hasn’t told you.”

  I wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t exactly bedroom conversation and that seemed to be the conversations we’d had lately. “Haven’t really seen her much,” I mumbled, still trying to piece together when she and her mother reconnected.

  It was worrisome. I wanted her completely removed from the club and if her fucking mother was in with a patch, that was going to be damn near impossible.

  As if reading my thoughts, Grey added, “I’m keeping an eye on her. With the Sons around, nobody’s safe,” he waved a hand over the prospect’s body. “If they find out you’re helping us, she’s going to be the target they go after, Mikey.”

  Bile rose in my throat.

  This wasn’t just about keeping her away from the club anymore. It was about keeping her safe.

  “Hello?” Lauren sleepily asked.

  I glanced down at my watch, feeling guilty for calling so late. “Hey, Red. Did I wake you?”

  She yawned, “No, I was up…doing stuff.”

  Sure she was. If I knew her, she’d been passed out since eight. “Have you seen the moon tonight?”

  Lauren yawned again loudly. “Hmmm? The moon? No, why? Is it doing tricks?”

  I chuckled. “Something like that. Why don’t you step outside and look?”

  “Okay,” she whispered softly. “Let me get my shoes.”

  I waited until I heard her open the front door. “You might have to go downstairs to get the full effect.”

  She sighed. “Is it really necessary for me to see it? I’m pretty tired.”

  “It’s a once in a lifetime sight. Just go downstairs and head toward the street. Then you’ll see what I’m talking about.”

  Lauren came into view, sleepily rubbing her eyes, and I ducked behind some shrubs. She walked a few more feet before stoppi
ng and staring up at the sky in confusion. “Can you just tell me what I’m looking for?”

  I stood up slowly. “How about the guy right in front of you?”

  She held a hand up to her chest. “Jesus Christ, Mike! You can’t just go popping up out of bushes, scaring people.”

  I bent down and retrieved a cupcake with an unlit candle sticking out of it. “I wanted to be the first one to wish you a Happy Birthday, Red. Fucking candle wouldn’t stay lit though.”

  Lauren’s eyes lit up and she grinned before taking it from my hand. “You got me a birthday cake?”

  I nodded and corrected, “Technically a cupcake, but close enough.”

  I wondered if Monica had ever been sober long enough to celebrate her. By the way she was tearing up, I was gonna go with no.

  She wrapped her arm around my neck and whispered in my ear, “Could you be any sweeter?”

  I thought back over the last week and a half. I wasn’t sweet. I was a fucking monster. I’d helped dispose of six Sons of Death members—well, what was left of them. Grey had made sure they met the same end that Ian, the prospect, did. Kid hadn’t even earned his road name yet.

  It wasn’t like SODMC was going to file a police report. This was tit for tat. They now knew the score—take out one of Grey’s and expect to lose six in retaliation. Neither side was going to back down now. This was a full-on war that I just happened to play a role in.

  Brushing those thoughts aside, I scooped her up in my arms and carried her over to my truck. “I’ve got something I wanna show you. Do you have some time?”

  Lauren looked up at me with a smirk. “Oh, well I had a date with my bed, but I guess I can spare some time for you.”

  The minute she was seated and buckled in, I handed her a bouquet of daisies. “Gift number two.”

  She eyed me with a raised eyebrow. “Well, well, well. Look who’s just full of surprises. Where are we going?”

  I made a right turn and shook my head. “Uh-uh, Darlin’. You’re just gonna have to wait and see.”

  We drove about fifteen miles outside of town. By the time I parked the truck, Lauren was dozing with her head against the window. I stepped out and snagged the blankets from the back seat. Grey bought this land a while back and after all the blood I’d gotten on my hands this last week, he owed me one. I threw a match down and the small bonfire went up in bursts of red and yellow.

  Time to wake the birthday girl.

  I opened the passenger door and she gave me a sleepy smile. “Is it time for my next present now?”

  Goddamn, I could wake up to that face for the rest of my life.

  She cupped my cheek. “Are you okay? You just got really pale.”

  I nodded, “Yeah. Low blood sugar or some shit. Come on.” I helped her out of the truck and carried her around to the bed. “Happy Birthday!”

  Lauren paused to take it all in and then she began laughing wildly. “Oh my god! A bonfire?” She thrust her arms up in victory and then fell back against the blankets. “I’ve never been to a bonfire before.”

  It wasn’t much. I’d spent maybe ten dollars total on her, but she was reacting as if I’d dropped ten thousand. The problem was I didn’t know what she liked, so I had no fucking clue what to buy her. “You like it?”

  She nodded with glowing eyes, her cheeks flushed from the fire. “This is the best birthday ever.”

  I could’ve beaten my chest at that comment. I’d fucking done it.

  I climbed up beside her and reached for the wine I’d stashed among the blankets. I poured us both a red Solo cup full and held mine up. “A toast. To the birthday girl, who is going to need a shitload of caffeine to survive the day.”

  Lauren grinned and punched my arm playfully before taking a drink. We sat and stared into the flames, yet it wasn’t awkward. We just didn’t need words to fill in the silence. She had one leg crossed over the other and a content smile played on her lips. When she bent down to grab her Solo cup, her hair fell across her eye and she easily tucked it back behind her ear.

  I loved her.

  I’d known it for a while, but watching her like this just sealed the deal. I knew that I could search the entire fucking world and I’d never find anyone who made me feel like she did.

  I still felt like a pussy over the whole thing, but someday…someday I’d tell her what she meant to me. She saw me watching her and immediately sat up to pull her PJ bottoms off. It was what we did when I showed up late at night and while my cock was ready for her, it didn’t feel right.

  I pulled her into my arms, balancing my cup between my legs. “Whoa there, Red. Slow down. That’s not what tonight is about.”

  She pursed her lips and then cupped me through my jeans. “You sure about that, Tex?”

  Jesus. I’d created a monster.

  I resisted the groan that was on my lips and nodded. “Yeah. Just lay with me.”

  She nestled up against me, one leg thrown over mine and we stared up at the stars. Feeling the need to impress her, I began pointing out the various constellations Grey had taught me as a kid. “You see that one? It looks like a head on a winding tail. That’s Aquarius, the son of the king of Troy. Zeus wanted to fuck him, so he turned into an eagle and whisked him away to serve as cupbearer to the gods—which is probably a euphemism.”

  She smiled and watched my hands, fascinated, as she traced along my tattoos. “What’s that one?” She pointed north of Aquarius.

  “That would be Pegasus. Poseidon fucked Medusa and she gave birth to Pegasus. Pretty sure I would’ve asked for a paternity test if I were Poseidon. The hero, Bellerophon, tamed him and rode him to defeat the chimera. Then Zeus turned him into a fucking constellation; probably because Pegasus turned him down. Zeus was a freak like that.” I was basing most of this off of stories Grey told me when I was seven or eight, so the details had gotten a little fuzzy.

  She giggled. “I love you, Mike.”

  I went silent, trying to determine if it was the right time to confess that I felt the same.

  Sensing my hesitation, she added, “You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know that. No one’s ever gone to this much trouble for my birthday and I—”

  I rolled onto my side and faced her. It was right there, but no matter how artfully my brain arranged them, my mouth couldn’t form the words.

  Instead, I did what I knew. I wrapped my right hand up in her hair and grazed my teeth against the point where her jawline and ear met. In the light of the bonfire, her skin went from pink to red, and her back arched up off the blanket. Amid quiet moans, I inched my way down toward her mouth. She surprised me by tilting her face up, forcing my mouth to hers. And there it was—the jolt of attraction that sent my brain into a sexual frenzy.

  Kissing her was the culmination of every wet dream I’d ever had.

  Lauren must’ve felt the same way because her hands suddenly had a mind of their own. Her hips arched up, seeking mine, and I went into a pushup position as I moved over her. I took her hands in one of mine and pinned them over her head as our mouths collided roughly over and over again.

  She sighed contentedly and her eyelids fluttered open. “Mike, can we have sex now?”

  Her pleading tone brought a cocky grin to my face. “What’s the matter, Darlin’? All that Zeus talk got you hot and bothered?”

  She took the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth and nodded. My brain short-circuited again and instinct took over.

  Lauren

  November 2014

  “Apply the wax in a thin layer in the same direction as the hair growth,” I read before taking a drink from the bottle of pinot noir sitting on the bathroom counter. I hadn’t bothered with dirtying a glass because I was all class, all the time.

  It was Mike’s birthday and I was supposed to have been lying on my back with my legs spread like a frog’s, but my esthetician, Annie canceled on me at the last minute.

  Faced with the prospect of having to dig out the razor blade or tell him
he was going to be taking a trip to the safari for his birthday gift, I decided to give at-home waxing a whirl.

  I rushed over to the pharmacy after work and grabbed what I needed before driving out to his place. He was going to be getting off at seven, so that left me with a little under two hours to de-hair myself.

  Forty-five minutes and half a bottle of wine later, I was starting to second guess the wisdom in that decision. But Mike had gone to great lengths ensuring that my birthday was special, the least I could do was make sure that my ‘girl’ was in presentable party clothes for his.

  Propping my leg up on Mike’s bathroom counter, I took the popsicle stick of wax and applied it to my skin in a thin layer, just like the instructions said. “Thirty seconds to harden,” I said as I skimmed over the next section, “and then pull off in the opposite direction of hair growth.”

  Easy peasy.

  I caught sight of myself in the mirror and immediately had to look away. No wonder they charged so much for these—the view was…something else.

  Feeling like thirty seconds had come and gone, I lifted the bottom edge of the wax and quickly yanked it up and off. I exhaled slowly and contorted my body to reveal my handiwork.

  Not bad.

  I didn’t need an esthetician and eighty dollars. I was going to retain my dignity and do my own waxing from here on out.

  I got through the next three sections without issue and realized that I was making excellent time. My plan was to be in his bed with a bow wrapped around me in the next half hour. I had Chinese take-out in the fridge downstairs and Saving Private Ryan waiting in the DVD player.

  As I waited for the next section to harden, I ran my eyes over the instruction sheet and saw at the bottom in bold letters, NEVER use on nipples, perianal, vaginal/genital areas, or on hairs inside nostrils, ears or on eyelids/eyelashes.

  Jesus, who would be stupid enough to put it on their eyelashes? I used my fingernail to lift the bottom edge of the wax just as a door slammed downstairs.