Fugitives MC

by Daphne Loveling

  “Shit,” Rube muttered. “All right, send him in.” Sighing, he closed the tab on his computer and sat up at his desk, waiting for the knock on his door. A few moments later, the knock came, the door opening without the knocker waiting for permission. “Hello, chief,” Bear said as he walked confidently through the door.

  “Mayor,” Rube nodded.

  Bear Connor closed the door behind him and sat down in one of the two leather chairs facing the police chief’s desk. “How’s the wife, Rube?” the mayor asked conversationally.

  “She’s fine,” Rube nodded. He kept his tone neutral. “How’s Brenna doin’ these days? I see her around town some.”

  “That girl,” Bear said irritably. “All she knows how to do is spend my money, I swear.”

  “Too much free time on her hands, maybe,” Rube said. He looked at Bear: “You given any more thought to sending that girl to college?”

  “She says she doesn’t want to go until she knows what she wants to do with her life.” Bear shook her head in disbelief. “I keep tellin’ her that it doesn’t matter what she goes to college for, as long as she goes. Once she and Chad get married, she’s gonna have her hands full bein’ a political wife. And she’ll be a good one, too. She’s got the right look, and she grew up around my campaigns, so she knows what to do.” Bear chuckled, his tone turning indulgent. “As long as Chad can tame that wild streak in her, that is.”

  “Yeah. She is a headstrong one, that girl,” Rube nodded. He got up and went over to the coffee maker on the side table. “Well, I don’t imagine you came by to talk about your daughter and her boyfriend’s political future.” He picked up the carafe and refilled his cup. “Coffee?” he asked, raising his cup at the mayor.

  “No thanks, makes me jittery if I drink it in the afternoon.”

  “So,” said the chief, sitting back down and taking a sip. “What can I do for you?”

  “Well, Rube,” the mayor said, stretching out comfortably into his seat. “I need you to do a little favor for me.”

  “Just once, maybe you could ask instead of tellin’, seems to me,” Rube replied impassively. He watched his tone, though. He didn’t like Bear, not at all, and he figured Bear probably knew that. Still, the mayor did have the authority to fire the police chief, and Bear could be a dangerous man when provoked. Rube didn’t need any more enemies than he already had.

  “Heh, sorry about that,” Bear said easily, in a tone that said he wasn’t sorry at all. “You know my good friend Bob Jenkins, don’t you, chief?”

  “If you mean Bob Jenkins the developer, of course I do,” the chief said patiently.

  “Well, Rube, my friend Bob Jenkins is interested in acquiring some property at the edge of town, to put in a new housing development called Crystal Acres,” Bear continued importantly. “Everything’s going fine for the most part. The farmer who owns most of the land out there is getting ready to retire from farming, and he’s more than willing to sell to Bob if the price is right. There’s just one problem.”

  Knowing that Bear would expect him to ask what that problem was, Rube did what was expected. “What’s the problem, Bear?”

  “The farmer’s land is adjacent to that biker bar, the Iron Horse,” Bear replied. “Now, there’s two problems with that. One, having a biker bar right next to a beautiful new housing development is hardly the sort of thing that’s gonna attract potential new homeowners, am I right?”

  “Hardly,” the chief said drily.

  “And two,” Bear continued, “that bar is sitting on a corner lot right at the edge of two major roads. If the land that the Iron Horse is on could be bought as well, that would allow the developer to build with access to both of those roads, and the extra land would give him room to build at least three, maybe four extra homes.”

  “I see,” Rube said mildly. “And your interest in this is purely as a friend of Bob Jenkins?”

  Bear laughed heartily. “Well, not purely. I am one of the potential investors in the project. It is true that if this development is successful, the profit possibilities are… interesting. But above and beyond that, you have to admit that a new housing development in that location would be very good for the community. We’ve got a shortage of good housing stock in Crystal Spring, and these homes would be designed precisely for the kind of young, middle-class families we want to keep attracting to the town. Not only that,” he continued, “but if Bob could purchase that extra land, it would have the residual effect of getting rid of an eyesore and making an undesirable element of our community less visible to all.”

  “Huh.” The chief leaned forward with his elbows on his desk. He steepled his hands as he looked at the mayor for a long moment. Rube had no love lost for the Fugitives, but he was at heart a man with a strong sense of fairness. The idea of railroading a local business out of town simply for someone else’s benefit, no matter who owned it, just didn’t sit well with him.

  “Well, Bear,” Rube began slowly. “I can definitely see your friend’s predicament. And I can see how he and you could stand to profit from the Iron Horse being gone. But I’m failing to see how I can be of any help to you on this. Has your friend approached the Fugitives about selling the place to him?”

  “Yes, of course he has,” Bear said, waving his hand dismissively. “Chig Taylor – you know Chig – he was very clear that the club is unwilling to sell the property. Had a few choice words for Bob when he came around, too. Not that that’s too surprising. Chig has always been a little rough around the edges.”

  “Yeah,” Rube laughed. “You can say that again.”

  “The thing is,” Bear continued as he leaned forward, “I think both you and I know that the Fugitives don’t always operate strictly in keeping with the law. I can’t imagine it would take too much for your people to find enough on the Fugitives to make them deeply uncomfortable. Perhaps that would be enough for them to reconsider selling. If not, I imagine it wouldn’t take too much more digging to find enough on the club to shut the bar down permanently. Send enough of them to jail to put the club out of commission, maybe permanently.”

  “Ah. I see.” Rube scowled. “And if I don’t think the best use of my already strapped police force’s time is to be running surveillance on a biker bar?”

  “I think,” replied Bear with a long look at the chief, “that you know what happens if you don’t.”

  Rube looked at the other man, his blood running cold in his veins. The chief knew he shouldn’t be surprised, but he was. It had always been in the back of his mind that the mayor of Crystal Spring would use what he knew about the chief to blackmail him. Somehow, though, he hadn’t seriously thought Bear would do it. Despite years of experience and mountains of evidence to the contrary, Rube still had the blind spot that some men of honor possess: the misguided belief that other people were guided by the same principles that they themselves were. The chief cursed himself now for being so naïve.

  Sighing in resignation, Rube looked up at the mayor. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Bear Connor nodded in satisfaction and rose to leave. “I thought you’d see it my way,” he replied. “You take care now, Rube. And keep me posted about how things are going.”

  “Uh-huh,” Rube murmured, watching the mayor’s back as it disappeared through the door. He lifted the receiver on his phone and pressed a button. “Holly,” he said, “Have Hanson get me all the files we have on the Fugitives.”

  Chapter Four

  Brenna and Gonzo flew down the highway through the early evening, light, the sun just beginning to lower in the sky behind them. After a few minutes of clinging desperately to Gonzo’s waist, she began to relax a bit as the movements of the bike under began to feel more predictable. Gonzo, feeling her grip around him lessen, responded by giving the bike more throttle. The Harley sped up, sending a thrill of exhilaration down Brenna’s spine. She had never experienced anything like this. All her senses were on high alert as the sounds and smells of the open road surrounded her. The engi
ne’s vibrations between her legs made her already aroused core tingle even more, and she stifled a shiver, leaning forward into Gonzo’s back instinctively.

  Gonzo steered the bike to the other edge of town, pulling into a bar that Brenna recognized but had never been in. A weathered sign on the outside read “The Iron Horse,” with a picture of a large chopper next to it. About a dozen Harleys were lined up in a row near the door. Gonzo came to a stop in the parking lot, in one of the furthest spaces from the bar. He leaned the bike into the kickstand and cut the motor, then waited for Brenna to get off. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go home right away,” he explained, one corner of his mouth going up. “And I thought you might like some time to get your bearings.”

  Brenna realized at that moment that not only had she not told the biker where she lived, she hadn’t even given him her name. “I’m Brenna Connor, by the way,” she said, blushing a little.

  “I know who you are.”

  “You do?” Brenna frowned. “How…”

  “The mayor’s daughter in a small town like this isn’t invisible, darlin’,” Gonzo drawled with a smile.

  “I… I remember you from high school,” Brenna murmured. “You were two grades ahead of me, I think. Back then you were called Kyle.”

  Something clouded over in Gonzo’s expression. “Yeah,” he said tonelessly, his eyes turning dark as they flicked away from hers. “I remember you, too.” Then, in a flash, whatever unpleasant memory he had been thinking about disappeared. Looking back at her, his eyes raked over her curves. “But you didn’t look like this back then.”

  “Well,” she said, flushing furiously, “I was in ninth grade.” Then, more boldly: “You didn’t look like that back then, either.”

  Gonzo laughed, a big, booming sound that set something aflutter inside her. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Not as many tattoos, in any case, eh?”

  Not as much of a lot of things, Brenna thought to herself with an aroused little shiver.

  “Your boyfriend’s an asshole, by the way,” Gonzo said, a tone of disgust in his voice.

  “Yeah, I know,” she replied with a sigh. “I’ve known it for a while now. But he’s not my boyfriend anymore. I’m done.”

  “You okay?” he asked, cocking his head to look at her.

  “Yeah,” she nodded. “I am. Really good, actually. I’m glad to be done with him.”

  “Good,” Gonzo said, rising up off the bike. “Let’s go get you a drink to celebrate.”

  “But…” she stammered as she trailed after him, “I’m not twenty-one yet!”

  “Doesn’t matter. Bartender will serve you,” he said as he strode toward the bar. “But,” he turned toward her at the door, “You make sure you stick close to me. Men in here aren’t dipshits like your ex-boyfriend back there, but bikers tend to share the wealth. So if you don’t want to invite unwanted attention, you make it clear you’re with me. Got it?”

  Her eyes wide, she nodded at him. He put his arm around her, pulling her tightly to him. Brenna felt an electric little thrill as his arm slipped around her waist. His touch was familiar, as if he was used to claiming her body, and the thought of him touching her that way left her a little breathless. She tentatively put her own arm around his muscular torso and together, they entered the bar. Inside, a wall of noise greeted her, with classic rock blaring on the sound system and booming voices everywhere. Large, muscled men in leather cuts like Gonzo’s stood around playing pool and drinking amber-colored liquid out of low glasses. Others had scantily clad women draped around them like serpents. Gonzo’s arm tightened around her as they approached the bar. He sat them down at two bar stools toward one end. “Hump!” he called. “Couple of whiskeys for me and the lady.”

  The fleshy bald man behind the bar nodded silently and set two glasses on the counter, filling them half full and pushing them toward Gonzo. He took one and handed it to Brenna, then grabbed the other. “Drink,” he said simply. “You need a little relaxing after all that shit with douche boy.”

  Brenna obligingly took a large gulp of the whiskey, coughing a bit at the burn as it went down her throat. It tasted awful, but strangely, it was cathartic. A warm flush came to her cheeks as the booze heated her system. “Douche boy,” she repeated, giggling. “You know, his dad’s the president of Crystal National Bank, right?”

  Gonzo scoffed. “That explains a lot.” He grinned at her. “Is that why you were with him? Money?”

  “No,” she said seriously. The whiskey was already affecting her, and she could sense her tongue loosening. “Honestly, I don’t know why I was with him. I guess… Well, I don’t know. Sometimes, you get into a situation, and then you realize that everyone expects you to keep doing it. So you do. And then pretty soon, you don’t know how to get out of it.” She looked up at him, her eyes shining a little. “Do you know what I mean?”

  His eyes flicked away from hers for a moment, and then back again. “Yeah.”

  Something in his expression made her want to ask more, but she didn’t dare. “So, anyway,” she sighed, taking another drink of the burning liquid, “I just kept thinking it was what I was supposed to do. But it just kept getting harder and harder to act like it was okay, you know?” The whiskey was warming her nicely now, and she was pleasantly fuzzy and happier than she’d felt in months. She looked up at the handsome biker. “Honestly, that car breaking down was the best thing that could have happened to me. And you guys coming along. It was like everything came clear to me.” Brenna flashed a dazzling smile at him. She leaned toward him and raised her glass, her dark eyes meeting his amused gaze. “Thank you. Really. I think you saved me.” She clinked her glass against his and downed the rest of the amber liquid, swallowing resolutely. “Can I get another glass of this?” she asked, looking toward the bartender.

  “I think maybe you’ve had enough for now,” Gonzo said, pulling the glass gently away from her. “Don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret later.”

  “I don’t regret anything!” she cried. “I’m finally free!” she said, raising her arms up in a sign of victory.

  “Okay, darlin’,” he grinned, rising up from his seat. “Let’s get up and walk around a little bit, all right?”

  “Okay,” she said gamely. He put his strong hand on the small of her back to guide her. They walked toward the back of the bar. Spider had arrived ahead of them, and he was standing with another man and three women: two blondes and one brunette. All of the women had large tits barely contained by their tiny halter tops, and tight little asses covered by denim cut-off shorts. The two blondes had their hands all over Spider, and one was sticking her tongue in his ear. Brenna watched in fascination, strangely aroused by the frankness with which they grabbed and caressed his crotch while he talked casually to the other man.

  Spider’s gaze came to rest on Gonzo and Brenna as they approached. His raised his brows at Gonzo. “Hey, brother,” he said. “Thought you were taking her home.”

  “I figured she could use a drink to warm her up.” Gonzo nodded once at the other man, who had his arm around the brunette and was squeezing one of her tits. “Larry,” he said.

  “Gonz,” the other man replied. “Who’s she?” he asked, nodding at Brenna.

  “She’s with me. Off limits,” Gonzo replied.

  “Sure, sure,” Larry said easily.

  “No worries,” the brunette said silkily, flashing a possessive smile at Larry. “He’s with me.”

  Larry and Gonzo laughed. “I’m Jan,” the brunette said to Brenna. “This here’s Larry, if you hadn’t figured that out. And these two bimbos are Barbie and Jennie.”

  “Hey!” One of the blondes protested. “We’re not bimbos!”

  “Yes you are,” Spider laughed. “Now come on over here and show me what you’ve got.”

  Spider and the two blondes wandered away toward a low couch in a corner, where one of the women wrapped her lips around his and the other began to unzip his pants. Brenna stared in fascination for a mom
ent, and then looked away quickly as she saw blonde number two take his rigid cock out of his pants and lean down, wetting her lips.

  “Things get a little wild around here for a mayor’s daughter, honey,” Jan said with a smile that wasn’t unkind. “You sure you’re in the right place?”

  “How does everybody know who I am?” Brenna asked in frustration.

  “Baby girl, everybody knows who your daddy is, so everybody knows who you are. That’s just the way it is,” Jan replied.

  “Goddamn it,” Brenna muttered. Gonzo laughed.

  “Speaking of which,” Jan continued, “What’s the mayor gonna say if he finds out you spent the evening with a badass biker boy at the Iron Horse? What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “She and her douchebag boyfriend had car trouble on the other side of town. Me and Spider happened to pass by, and douchebag got a little disrespectful. What, you don’t think the mayor’s gonna send me a fruit basket for rescuing his daughter from an asshole?” Gonzo smirked.

  This time it was Brenna’s turn to laugh. “Daddy loves Chad. He wants him to be his personal assistant.”

  “His name is Chad?” Gonzo asked, whooping with laughter. “Jesus Christ, he’s a walking stereotype.”

  The alcohol had warmed Brenna to the point where beads of sweat were appearing on her brow. She began fanning herself with her hand. “Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” she asked.

  “Low and slow over the plate,” Gonzo laughed. “Why don’t we step outside for a minute so you can cool off, darlin’. May be that whiskey went to your head a little faster than you thought.”

  “No, I’m okay, but I would like to go outside,” Brenna agreed. She looked back at Larry and Jan as they turned to go. “Nice to meet you,” she said.

  Jan smirked and waved with her fingers. “Nice to meet you, too, honey,” she replied.

  Back outside, Brenna took a deep breath of the fresh air as night began to fall. Gonzo stepped to the side and took out a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out of the pack and lit it.