by Tess Oliver
All three of us popped our faces up from our beers. “What other club?” Jacko asked.
Pete sealed his mouth for a second, apparently trying to decide if this was something he should be talking about. He took a sip of his beer. His gaze shot around the place as if he thought people might be listening. Which they weren’t. “I probably shouldn’t be talking about it, but I figure you outlaw clubs all know each other’s business anyhow.”
“Yeah, we presidents meet all the time for beers,” I lied. He’d mentioned the word outlaw. There weren’t that many one percenter clubs in the area. Unless he had no idea what he was talking about, I could narrow the choices down to just a few. I took a chance. “I know Bent for Hell likes to hang out around here.” Another lie. Dreygon had nearly dragged us into an all out war with Bent for Hell, and, for the most part, with good reason. But Griffin, the Bent for Hell prez, had had to deal with some major legal problems, including having three of his men arrested for slaughtering a Drug Enforcement Agent. They hadn’t had time for club rivalry. They were trying to climb out of their own pile of shit. But they were still our biggest problem, territory wise.
Pete seemed relieved that I’d known the information without him having to give away Gamble’s secrets. “They sure did. For awhile, those guys were at all the clubs, hanging out, spending money at the tables, drinking liquor like it was water.”
“Yep, Griffin and the boys like to tear it up,” I said. Jacko and Reed casually sipped beer, but they were shooting me ‘what the fuck’ looks. I’d briefly mentioned Roxie’s warning to them, but since it hadn’t come with a lot of information, there hadn’t been much to share other than the fact Gamble had lied about having a big security problem on the road.
Pete gulped more beer. “That they do. They were hanging around a lot, then something happened. Not sure what but they disappeared all of a sudden, stopped coming around.”
The server delivered our food to the table. Pete’s attention was focused solely on the sandwich. It seemed we weren’t going to get much more information out of him now that a roast beef on rye was sitting in front of him. We all grew quiet as we stuffed our faces.
Reed finally spoke up with one last comment. “If Gamble is friends with Griffin, then it’s strange that he contacted us about security.”
“Yep,” Pete mumbled through a bite of roast beef. I’d figured Pete for a mouthful of food talker, and I was right. “That’s why I brought it up. Guess he must have had some trouble with the other club. Must be why they stopped coming around.”
“Interesting, eh, Richo?” Jacko stared at me over his sandwich.
“It sure as hell is.”
chapter 13
Roxie
Easton and I stayed in the chilly water until his little chin was trembling and my limbs were stiff from the cold. He walked out looking like a little muscleman with his big orange swim floaties puffing out his small arms. His weak leg made walking on the sand tough, but he managed just fine.
“You did so well. I’m proud of you, Easton.” I patted his head.
“I’m a swimmer.”
“You sure are.”
“I’m a hungry swimmer.”
I laughed. “Me too. There are some sandwiches in the ice chest.”
He hurried his pace. Nancy looked up from her magazine and smiled as he ran to her. The fresh air and sunlight had already improved her mood some. But I wasn’t delusional. I knew it was a temporary lift and that she’d sink back into her pit of gloom soon enough.
“Mommy, mommy, I’m a hungry swimmer.”
“Good,” she said. “It’s time for lunch.” She pulled off his floaties, wrapped him in a towel and rubbed him vigorously to warm him up.
I plopped down in the chair and did the same. “That lake is as cold as it is blue. But he did great. We’ll have him swimming by the end of summer.”
“But I am a swimmer, Rocky,” Easton insisted.
“Yes, you are. Auntie Roxie misspoke. I meant to say we’ll have him swimming like a champion by the end of summer.”
He held his arms up to show his muscles. “Champion.”
Nancy opened the ice chest and pulled out the sandwiches. She handed me one. “Oh, I meant to tell you, your phone was ringing while you were in the water.”
I reached over and picked it up. Three messages from Trace. The phone rang as I held it. “What the heck does he want?” I got up and walked closer to the house for better reception. The surrounding mountain peaks tended to block out signals. “Hello.”
“Where the hell have you been? I went by Gamble’s Grill and Casino, but you weren’t there. Thought you were working.”
“I took the morning off. I’m heading there this afternoon.”
“I need you to pack a bag. We’re catching a late afternoon flight to Georgia.”
“What? I can’t. I’ve got payroll to calculate. There’s no way. By the way, how are you paying your new security team? I haven’t set up anything for them.”
“They’re off the books. They’re only short term, anyhow.”
“Short term? I don’t understand. Your trucks only need security short term?”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little ass about it. I’m pissed as hell about Georgia. Like I told you, I’m going to hire someone to take your place. Then you’ll be available when I need you.”
“That would be fucking great. Get rid of the one part of my life that actually makes me feel part of the human race.”
“So fucking dramatic, Roxie. You have it pretty damn good. Maybe if you hadn’t played around all morning, you could have gotten the work done. What the hell are you doing anyhow?”
“Sean had some interviews, and I brought Easton to the lake.”
“Sean, figures. That fucking loser spends more days on interviews than actually working.”
“I’m not talking about this with you. When do you leave?” I had to work to keep the excitement out of my voice.
“I’ll be home in an hour to pack. I’ll be back on Monday. You just make sure you get your work done while I’m gone.”
“Yes, sir,” I said dryly. “Any other orders?”
“Don’t tempt me, Roxie. You might not like my demands. I had one helluva time getting off this morning. I need you to participate a little more, sweetheart, or I’ll figure out a way to make it more interesting.”
I was silent.
“We’ll talk about it when I get back.”
“If I don’t see you, be sure to have a safe trip,” I said coldly. I hung up and walked back to the chair.
Nancy peered up at me. “Everything all right.”
“Trace is leaving for a few days.” I put the phone down and then did a little happy dance. Easton nearly dropped his sandwich in the sand in an attempt to join me. I took hold of his hands and swirled him around. We both laughed as we spun.
“Hope he doesn’t throw up,” Nancy laughed.
Easton was having such a blast, I decided I had two more circles in me before I lost my balance completely.
As I whirred around and Easton giggled wildly, I heard Nancy call my name. On the second turn, I saw a massive figure standing on the beach. I stopped. Easton and I fell over with dizziness.
Jericho walked over and offered each of us a hand. Easton stared up at him. “You are weally big.”
“That’s because I ate all my vegetables when I was growing up.”
Easton put his small, curled hand in Jericho’s. Jericho was smooth enough not to make any notice of his atrophied hand.
Easton turned to Nancy. “Mommy, can we have vegebebles tonight?”
“Sure, but you have to eat them.”
Jericho helped me to my feet.
I brushed the sand off my skin. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Just as I didn’t expect to see you spinning in circles on the beach. I was supposed to stop by and pick up a check, but no one was answering the door. Then, through the slats in the fence, I saw a flash of blu
e.” He looked pointedly at my blue bikini. “I decided to see what all the laughter was about.”
“Oh, Jericho, this is Nancy, my sister-in-law, and Easton, my nephew.”
Jericho leaned down. “Hey, dude, how about a fist bump?” He held up his giant fist.
“Yes doode.” Easton bit his lip as he concentrated on getting his fist up against Jericho’s.
“All right. Well done.” Jericho said.
Easton was smiling from ear to ear.
Nancy, who was usually wearing a stony, reserved expression when strangers were around, looked surprisingly animated. I was doubly shocked when she asked him a question. “So, you’re working for Trace?”
“I am.”
It was obvious Jericho didn’t want to talk much about his business relationship with Trace.
“If you head back to the house, I’ll be right there. The check is probably waiting for you in the entryway. I think Kate, the housekeeper, is out doing errands. That’s why no one answered. I’m just going to pull on my shoes and my shorts.”
“Don’t go to any trouble on my account.” He shot me a suggestive wink for my eyes only. Both Nancy and I watched as long strides carried him back to the house, his broad shoulders set confidently and his black hair curling up on the back of his cut.
“That is scary.” Easton pointed at the screaming skull on Jericho’s cut. He smiled. “Like Halloween.”
Nancy grabbed my arm and mouthed the words ‘oh my god’ up to me.
“My sentiments exactly.” I yanked on my shorts and shoes. Jericho was just climbing the back steps as I caught up to him. “Did you really eat all your vegetables?” I asked.
“Hell no. Those green things make me gag. Of course, I wasn’t exactly growing up in a place where mealtime included the four food groups. I was on my own a lot, and I sort of made up my own food groups.”
We climbed up the short flight of wooden steps to the veranda. “And what were those groups?”
“Let’s see— the potato chip group, the anything doused in hot sauce group, the cola group and, of course, the sour gummy bear group.”
“Jeez, it’s a wonder you grew up at all. Speaking of the cola group— would you like a cold drink?”
“No thanks, we just had lunch. I don’t want to keep you from your day on the beach. He’s cute.” He glanced over at me, and I knew what he was asking without any words needed.
“Palsy caused by problems at birth. But he does really well, so we’re lucky. He is the best part of our lives.”
“I’ll bet.”
We walked through to the entryway. A white envelope was sticking out beneath the flower vase. It was filled with cash. I handed it to him. We both stared down as his fingers grazed mine. My chest rose with a deep breath.
“How is it going out there?” I asked.
“No problems so far.” It was obvious that he had questions. He glanced toward the stairs.
“He’s not home yet. He’s coming home soon to pack. He’s leaving for the weekend.” That statement caught his attention. We exchanged an overlong look.
“What was Gamble’s connection with the Bent for Hell club? Sorry.” He shook his head. “Just blurted that one out there. Don’t answer. It’s all right. I’ll probably find out soon enough.”
“Hold on there,” I said. “I don’t mind. Really. But I’m not sure I can help.” I scrolled through to my old life, the life where I’d still had freedom to make my own choices. “Wait. Back when I wasn’t chained to the man, I was a black jack dealer at his club near Reno, Gamble’s Choice.”
“Yeah, I know the joint. Might have gone in there a few times. But I would have remembered if I’d seen you there.”
“And that’s what we call multitasking. Detective work and flirting, an odd but nice combination. Although something tells me you are the type to flirt without even knowing you’re doing it.”
“Guilty as charged. Especially when the person being questioned is rocking a blue bikini.” He stepped closer, but slowly, to see if I would step back. Little chance of that.
He smelled of sweat, and motor oil and road dust. It was intoxicating on him. “How the hell do you make the grit of a day’s motorcycle ride smell like the world’s sexiest aftershave?” I hadn’t talked to a man who interested me in so long, I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted badly for him to know that I would be thinking about him once he walked out of the house and long after that. Even if it was too dangerous for both of us to ever consider taking this further than some heavy duty flirting, it was worth these few moments of fun.
“Road grit, it’s a biker’s secret weapon.” He moved even closer.
I could see the dust that had collected on his handsome face and throat. He gazed down at my bikini top. Those feelings I’d worried I was no longer capable of feeling returned with the speed and intensity of a bolt of lightning. It was just one long, sensuous appraisal of my breasts, but moisture surged between my thighs.
Jericho smiled. “That look on your face— what’s that saying? Penny for your thoughts?”
My throat tightened, and a foreign flutter filled my chest. I swallowed hard while deciding if I should reveal my thoughts and let him know exactly what I was thinking. I already knew exactly what he was thinking, and it made the flutter in my chest speed up and nearly overwhelm me.
I pulled in a long, deep breath. “I’m thinking that being fucked by this man in front of me must be off the damn charts.”
His blue eyes opened wide.
“Shit. I stunned you. Now I’m embarrassed because I was hoping you were thinking the same—”
I couldn’t finish my stumbling apology. He reached forward and took hold of both my arms. He pulled me against his rock hard chest, and his mouth covered mine. I’d grown used to tensing up when Trace kissed me, but instantly, my body melted against Jericho. His kiss deepened, and a soft, appreciative mewl rolled up from my throat. I hadn’t felt pleasure in a man’s arms in so long, I was close to tears with the sensation of it.
Within the sweet, warm haze he’d created in my head, I heard the back door open and shut. Reluctantly, he pulled his mouth from mine. My lips felt tender and ravished, and I craved more.
He lowered his hand. His eyes darkened with worry. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop myself.”
“I’m glad you didn’t stop.”
“Rocky, I need to pee pee.” Easton was standing in the entry doorway. Nancy came in behind him and took his hand, apologizing for the interruption. She, of course, had no idea what she’d interrupted, and she couldn’t know. My relationship with Trace was the thing holding her brittle existence together.
I turned back to Jericho. Suddenly, we were looking at each other in a completely different way. “We never finished our conversation about the bike club,” I said, trying to sound in control but feeling completely flustered.
“What conversation?” He stepped closer again. His massive chest rose and fell with each breath.
I could hear Nancy and Easton talking as they went down the hallway to the bathroom, and it snapped me like a cold shower back to reality. I stepped back, out of his reach. He looked as disappointed as I felt.
“There was a club that used to come and play and drink. They were a real scary looking bunch.”
He smiled. “We usually are.”
“No, I mean scary. You’re too beautiful to be scary. Dangerous, maybe, but not scary.”
“Hmm, not sure how to feel about that. This club, what did their patch look like? Do you remember?”
I tapped my chin in thought. “I want to say a skeleton hand holding a scythe. Does that sound familiar?”
“Yep, that would be Bent for Hell.”
“Bent for it? It looked they’d made more than one trip there. But they stopped coming around. Just sort of stopped one day. I knew they were making Trace nervous, so maybe he said something to them. Nah, scratch that. He wouldn’t have the balls.” Right on cue, Trace’s car pulled into the driveway. “I’ve got
to get ready for work. I’ll be at Candy Strippers tonight. How about yourself?”
“Thinking the boys and I should probably stay clear of the place and let the Devils keep their watering hole.”
“Polite,” I remarked. “Who knew that bikers had rules of etiquette.”
“I wouldn’t call it etiquette. Just tips for keeping out of fights.”
We could hear Trace’s hard soled shoes coming up the front steps, but Jericho took one last second to run his fingers down my arm. “You said something about him leaving for the weekend?”
I stared at him but didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. Jericho seemed to be able to look right into my soul.
Trace put his key in the lock. Jericho was still touching my arm. My heartbeat sped up. The last thing I wanted was for Jericho to get in trouble with Trace. The man was capable of anything.
“Guess I’ll see you around then.” Jericho dropped his hand and stepped back.
Trace opened the door.
I left Jericho standing in the entry and hurried to meet Nancy and Easton in the hallway. Our day on the lake was over.
chapter 14
Jericho
Jacko walked out carrying the small rug that had been down below the sink. One edge was completely chewed. “I’m taking bets. I say squirrel, but a big sucker with extra long teeth. Like some squirrel that got into some radioactive nuts or something.”
Reed lifted his head lazily from the couch and examined the chewed rug. “No way. That’s a rat. Squirrels wouldn’t be interested in that thing unless it was acorn flavored.”
I walked past Jacko on my way to the bedroom. We were taking turns between sleeping in the room we’d named the coffin room, because the wood paneled walls closed in on you like a casket, and the dusty rose room and the couch. The dusty rose room had nothing to do with the color but rather the giant vase of fake roses that were so coated in dust they were beige instead of pink. The couch was actually the coveted spot because it was less lumpy than either bed. I grabbed my cut off the hook on the bedroom door and walked back out. Jacko stuck the rug in my path so I could make a guess.