Fugitives MC

by Daphne Loveling

  “You shouldn’t smoke,” Brenna ventured.

  Gonzo snorted and said nothing. He stood silently, contemplating her as he took a long drag of the cigarette and blew it out to the side. “We all do things we shouldn’t do,” he said finally.

  Brenna stared at the biker, her breath speeding up slightly as her body reacted to his muscled form. Thick, taut thighs strained against his worn blue jeans, and in the floodlight of the parking lot, the bulge of his package was clearly distinguishable. Brenna’s senses were aflame from witnessing all the raw sensuality that the bikers and the women in the club seemed to take so casually. She felt a tingling in her sex as she imagined how easy it would be to move closer and let nature take its course. The whiskey making her bold, she took one step toward him, her lips parting as she reached, shaking, for the lapel of his cut.

  Gonzo’s hand closed around her wrist before she knew what was happening. Startled, she tried to yank her hand away, but she was no match for him. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “You don’t want to start this,” he growled in a low voice.

  “Start what?” she retorted, her chin jutting toward him defiantly. She moved half an inch closer as her heart threatened to pound out of her chest.

  “This.” With one swift move, Gonzo dropped his cigarette and pinned her arms back, pushing her against the side of the building. His mouth crushed down on hers as his body pinned her back. Brenna felt him push a knee between her legs, pressing himself up against her and moving his hips so that she could feel exactly how big he was, and exactly how hard and dangerous. Her nipples hardened as his chest pressed against hers, friction grazing her tautened buds through the fabric. She moaned against his mouth, her hips instinctively angling toward the hard heat of him. She felt her panties go from damp to wet. His mouth broke apart from hers, and he leaned in close to her ear, biting the lobe until she cried out softly. “Don’t fucking push it, Brenna. I’m not a gentleman, in spite of what you might think, and I’m not your savior.”

  Brenna took in a sharp breath as his hand reached under her dress and found her panties. His fingers roughly pushed them aside, plunging into her wet hole. Groaning, he slid one wet finger out of her and began to caress her swollen nub, swirling patterns around her as she gasped and clung to him. This was nothing like anything she had ever felt in all the disappointing fumblings with Chad. Only sometimes at night, in the protective dark of her own room, had her body ever been awakened to touch in this way. No man had yet done to her what she had been able to do to herself. And what Gonzo was doing to her was a hundred, a thousand times more consuming. His touch burned her like flame, his fingers a torturing mixture of rough and gentle. She knew he could tell the agony he was causing her as she clutched at his sleeve and bucked against his palm. Her face burned with shame but she was unable to stop herself.

  She whimpered, pressing against him fervently as her pleasure rose in a wave that felt like it would flatten her, shatter her. Her breath came in shallow gasps as he teased her, moving his hand away so that she would strain toward him. With a low growl, he took his hand away, grabbing her hips roughly and lifting her onto him. He backed her against the wall and set her down on his hard shaft, separated only by the smooth denim of his worn jeans. Crushing his mouth down on hers again so hard that her lips felt bruised, he lifted his hips up to grind against her. The heat between them was so intense that she exploded, crying out in surprise as her orgasm shook her. She clung to him, arms thrown around his neck, as she shuddered in his arms, mouth and teeth against his bare neck. When she came back to earth, she realized he had stopped moving, was standing rigid, the steel of his erection still straining through the fabric. He set her down without a word, and she flushed crimson at the thought that her weeping sex must have soaked the front of his jeans.

  “I’ll take you home,” he muttered, turning away from her rigidly and stalking toward his bike. Brenna stared after him in silence; she must have done something terribly wrong. She fought back tears as she followed him. He pulled the half-helmet from the seat and handed it to her in silence, watching as she put it on. Then Gonzo got on and started the Harley, staring straight ahead of him as she climbed on the back. Brenna wrapped her arms around him as he had instructed her to do earlier. Only this time, the smell of leather and smoke that emanated from him just made her feel confused and anxious, as though she had lost something she hadn’t even known she could have.

  They rode to her house in silence, the only words exchanged between them the numbers and street name of her address. He pulled up and didn’t bother to cut the engine as she got off the bike. Mutely, she handed him the helmet and he put it on.

  “Take care of yourself, Brenna,” Gonzo said solemnly, and drove away without waiting for a response.

  “You too,” she whispered as she watched him recede into the distance.

  Chapter Five

  That girl was gonna drive him crazy, and that was a fact.

  Ever since last night, when Brenna had come home with alcohol on her breath and gone straight to bed without a word to him, Bear had been preoccupied. He was at a loss to know what was going on with his crazy daughter. Lately she had seemed more restless than usual, and Bear had struggled to contain his impatience with her as she spent her days either stalking sullenly through the house or out on expensive shopping sprees. Although Chad had said nothing to Bear of any plans, the mayor had held out the irrational hope that last night would be the night that Chad would propose to his daughter. Maybe being engaged would give her a wedding to focus on and calm her restless moodiness, he reasoned.

  Bear had always suspected he had been too indulgent with his only daughter while she was growing up. Her beauty and her capacity to mesmerize men and women of all ages had been apparent even before she had hit puberty. Brenna’s large, arresting brown eyes and her cascading auburn hair were carbon copies of her mother’s. Even when she was a very small girl, adults would stop and kneel down to her, pinching her cheek or caressing a lock of her hair as they cooed at her in charmed voices. Bear had known, as instinctively political animals always do, how valuable she was to him. As such, he made sure to bring her along plenty on the campaign trail. Anna, the wife of his campaign manager, had taken Brenna on shopping trips to dress her up as the perfect little princess doll for fundraisers and other events. Brenna had loved the attention when she was young. She had seemed to instinctively slide into her role as the little girl orphaned of her mother, raised by her strong and sacrificing daddy whom she adored. Brenna was worth her weight in ballots, he used to say to his campaign manager Brad, and Brad had agreed.

  As Brenna had grown into adolescence, she had still been reasonably willing to show up as “Daddy’s date” to his fundraising events, especially because of the fantastic wardrobe she amassed from doing it. In public, she had continued to play her role to perfection, smiling and clutching her daddy’s arm as the cameras flashed. In private, however, their relationship became strained. Despite being frequently in her father’s presence during election years, she was most often left alone in the off season, as her father’s job and networking took up most of his time. As she grew older, she began to accuse him openly of only loving her for the votes she could help to bring in.

  Bear had been immensely relieved when Brenna met Chad. Her attention had shifted from Bear’s shortcomings as a father to her own budding teenage romance, and Bear had done everything he could to encourage their relationship. Chad Burke was the oldest son of Ray Burke – a pillar of the community – and was a local football legend in his own right. His classic blond good looks and easy, gregarious manner made him a natural as a future son-in-law. Brenna couldn’t possibly have picked a better choice as a boyfriend, at least for Bear’s purposes.

  When Bear thought about his other friends with daughters, and how some of them had agonized over the dirtbags the girls had brought home to their parents, Bear congratulated himself on his luck. Brenna was a bit more spirited and opiniona
ted than he would like, true. But in the end she was her father’s daughter. She knew instinctively what was best for her. Even though she had stubbornly refused to apply to college as he had advised, Bear had every hope that she would eventually come to her senses and realize that as Chad’s future wife, she had to groom herself for his eventual political career. Bear himself had been considering a run for the state legislature, and he planned to bring his future son-in-law along for the ride as his assistant. Bear smiled to himself as he imagined the beautiful picture it would make: Brenna and Chad, standing next to Bear on the campaign platform, a gorgeous newborn in Brenna’s arms. A perfect all-American family to present to the dear voters of his district.

  Bear was jolted out of his reverie by the ringing of his desk phone. He picked it up, noting the last name “Burke” on the screen. “Bear Connor,” he barked into the receiver, though he knew from the caller I.D. that it was Chad on the line.

  The next two minutes of conversation served to completely rain on Bear’s electoral fantasy. “What?” he cried, leaning forward in his seat. “No, she did not tell me. When… I don’t know… Well, if she wasn’t with you, how in hell did she get home, then? … What?!”

  Bear Connor hung up the phone a few minutes later in a state of complete and utter disbelief. He stood up from his desk and stormed out of his office, stopping at the bottom of the stairway. “Brenna!” he shouted.

  A door opened upstairs and a muffled voice came wafting down the staircase. “What?”

  “Come down here right now. I need to talk to you.” Bear stalked back to his office and sat down at his desk to wait.

  A minute or so later, his daughter appeared in the doorway. One glance at her father’s angry face and she knew what had caused him to call her downstairs. Brenna squared her shoulders and sat in one of the leather chairs facing him across the desk. It’s just like him to bring me in here to talk about this, like I’m some underling he wants to punish, she thought to herself with a twinge of bitterness.

  “What in the hell is going on between you and Chad?” her father began, his anger evident in his voice.

  “We broke up,” she replied simply, shrugging her shoulders. Though she didn’t want to, Brenna forced herself to meet her father’s steely gaze.

  “Yes, he told me that,” Bear growled. “He just called me. Chad also told me that you left him alone with his car outside of town and sped off with a couple of bikers from the Fugitives motorcycle club after one of them beat him bloody.”

  “Daddy, Gonzo beat Chad up because Chad was hurting me. He was being mean to me, and when I told him I wanted to leave, he grabbed my arm and wouldn’t let go.” Brenna’s tone was earnest. Surely her father would change his angry tone when he realized that Chad had been borderline abusive to her?

  But Bear’s voice rose in disbelief. “Excuse me, ‘Gonzo’ beat Chad up? Can you please tell me why in the hell you are associating with that club of degenerates enough to know the names of these men? Brenna, what in the hell is the matter with you?”

  Brenna almost screamed in frustration. “I didn’t know his name was Gonzo until last night. Will you please just listen to me? The two bikers stopped to help us because Chad’s car broke down. We were sitting on the side of the road, and God knows how long we would have been out there if they hadn’t stopped. You should be thanking those guys that I’m safe, instead of acting like they’re criminals!”

  “My God, Brenna, what in the hell is wrong with you?” Bear cried. “You’re lucky they didn’t kill you or rape you!”

  “Well, they didn’t!” Brenna yelled. “They saved me, actually, and probably stopped me from getting beaten up by Chad! He was a much bigger danger to me last night than either one of those bikers were.”

  Bear scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Bren. Chad would never hurt you. I can’t believe you would even think that. What’s gotten into you?”

  “Are you even listening to what I’m saying? Don’t you evens care that Chad was hurting me?” Brenna’s voice almost broke as she sat staring at her father, who seemed more concerned about Chad’s feelings than her own safety. The thought stunned her. “You don’t, do you? You don’t even believe me.”

  Her father held up a hand as if to placate her. “Brenna,” he said, his tone conciliatory, “Honey, it’s not so much that I don’t believe you. I just think that maybe the tense situation made you overreact. I’ll grant you that Chad can be a little terse when he’s under pressure. But honey, you know he didn’t mean you any harm. Think of your future together. You can’t throw that away for some imaginary thing you made up in your head.”

  “I didn’t make it up!” Brenna fairly screamed. “I can’t believe that you’d take Chad’s word over mine on this. How can you care more about having him as your little son-in-law lackey than you do about your own daughter’s happiness?”

  “Brenna, that’s not true and you know it. But Chad…”

  She stood up suddenly, her hands clenching into fists. “It is over between Chad and me. Do you hear me? I can’t be with him anymore. But you go right ahead and make him your assistant. It’s clear where your priorities are.” Turning on her heel, Brenna stalked from the room, leaving her father to watch her angry retreat.

  “God damnit,” he swore softly under his breath. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair and took off his glasses, massaging his tired eyes with the heels of his hands. He looked forward to a point sometime in the future when his and Brenna’s conversations were no longer punctuated by tension and accusations. Bear hoped to hell that time came sooner rather than later. This thing with Chad was a definite wrinkle in his plans, no doubt about it. He would have to talk to Chad about smoothing things over with Brenna as soon as possible. At least Bear was reassured to find out that his daughter’s encounter with the Fugitives had been nothing but a strange coincidence. He sure as shit couldn’t have her associating with those damn bikers, especially not now. Which reminded him…

  Bear reached for the phone and dialed a number he knew by heart. “Put me through to Chief Rubensen, please. This is Mayor Connor.” A few seconds later, he spoke again: “Chief. Bear Connor here. I’d like you to come see me at my home this afternoon. I’m looking for an update on the situation we spoke of last week. No, I’d rather speak in person. Let’s make it three o’clock, shall we? All right, then, see you at three.”

  A few minutes before three, Chief Rubensen pulled up to Mayor Connor’s residence in his squad car. Brenna hadn’t left her room since her fight with her father, and noticed Rube’s arrival from her window on the second floor. She frowned; the police chief rarely made calls to the mayor’s residence. Something unusual had to be happening.

  Though she hadn’t done it in years, Brenna left her room and tiptoed down the back stairs to the first floor bathroom. As a child, she had discovered by accident that the vent system in the house allowed her to listen in on her father’s office conversations from this bathroom. She had enjoyed pretending to be a spy as a young girl, though her clandestine eavesdropping had rarely borne any fruit back then. Now, however, she was pleased to find out that the acoustics were just as good as she remembered them.

  Closing the bathroom door, she sat down on the toilet lid and breathed shallowly through her nose as she listened.

  “… available to see me on such short notice,” Bear was saying to the chief.

  “Did I have a choice?” Rube responded drily.

  Bear laughed indulgently. “Well, it has been a week now since I asked you to look into the Fugitives’ dealings. My friend Bob Jenkins is asking me for an update. As you can imagine, there’s quite a bit of money involved in this. The prospect of his plans falling through makes him a little nervous. I’d like to be able to set his mind at ease.”

  “And you, too, I would imagine,” Rube replied.

  “Well, yes, I would like to see this development be a success, of course.” Bear’s tone grew more serious now, an indicator that he was through with the social nic
eties. “What have you found out, Rube?”

  Rube sighed, then began slowly. “Well, as you know, the club does have its share of arrests among the various members. Drug possession, theft, drunk and disorderly. About three-fourths of the men we know to be members of the Fugitives have some sort of record. But as for something that could take down the whole club… that’s another story.” The sound of squeaking leather reached Brenna’s ears as Rube shifted in his seat. “I haven’t turned up anything that could implicate the whole club enough to get the kind of leverage with them you’re looking for.”

  Leverage? Brenna though in confusion. What kind of leverage? And why was her father interested in the Fugitives in the first place? He couldn’t be trying to make them pay for Brenna’s night with Gonzo at the Iron Horse, could he? No, that wasn’t it. Her father had said that he’d asked Rube to look into the Fugitives a week ago. The car breakdown and her fight with Chad had only happened two days ago. Brenna’s brow furrowed as she tried to puzzle out what was happening.

  “That’s too bad,” said Bear in an exaggeratedly disappointed voice. “I sure hate to hear that, Rube. Any chance you just haven’t been looking hard enough?”

  “I’ve searched the records as far back as 1980,” Rube said. “Anything before that wouldn’t be of any use to you, anyway. Chig has been club president since 1981, and before that, anything you could hang on the club wouldn’t be good enough to implicate enough of the current members to make it stick.”

  “Well, then,” Bear said without missing a beat, “Maybe it’s time to think about giving the Fugitives some incentive to stray.”

  “What do you mean by that, Bear?” Rube asked, a tone of alarm in his voice.

  “Oh, come on, now, Rube,” Bear snorted. “You can’t tell me you don’t believe that club is engaged in illegal activities every damn day of the week. The fact that this town and this county are too lazy and unmotivated to catch them at any of it doesn’t mean it ain’t happening.”