Fighting Dirty

Home > Romance > Fighting Dirty > Page 4
Fighting Dirty Page 4

by J.C. Valentine


  Unfortunately, that random act of kindness had left her pretty much tapped out. Heading back over to the medical office’s website, Tiffany completed the application. Digging through her old e-mail, she attached the documents they wanted and hit send. Making so many impulsive decisions all at once left her feeling a little anxious, so she sucked on her daiquiri until it gave her brain freeze and made her a little light-headed.

  Another body slipped onto the stool next to her. Alyssa asked for a shot of amaretto and turned to her. “So, how’s it hangin’, sister?”

  Tiffany laughed. “What kind of talk is that? You’ve been keeping company with foulmouthed bikers far too long for an expression like that to fall so effortlessly from your lips.”

  Alyssa smothered a smile. “Guilty as charged. They may be foulmouthed, but unlike most of the attorneys and accountants I used to date, they can manage to do something with their mouths besides talk about themselves.”

  “Oh, they get in their fair share of bragging, but you’re right about them having some talented lips.”

  Shifting in her seat, Alyssa asked, “So what have you been up to, besides enjoying Ryder’s sweet lips?”

  Pulling her hands into her lap, Tiffany answered quickly, “Not much. A little of this and a little of that. You know how it is.”

  Winking at her, Alyssa whispered, “Shifty. I definitely like that in a new friend.”

  Taking another sip of her drink, Tiffany decided to keep the whole setting-Ace-up shenanigans under wraps for the time being. “I applied for a job at Reynolds Medical.”

  “Good for you,” Alyssa praised. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. Getting my career back on track seems like a good idea for me. Hanging around the clubhouse was fine for the short term, but it’s no kind of life.”

  “I noticed they had a spot open for a receptionist. If you want to fill out their online application, I can talk you up when I go for my interview,” Tiffany offered.

  “Thanks. It’ll probably take all the help I can scrounge up. I’ve been out of the workforce for a while, so I’ll probably need to brush up on my skills.”

  “I don’t know much about being a receptionist, but I’ll help in any way I can.”

  Alyssa nodded. “If we end up working, we’ll both be pretty busy.”

  “I know. It would be great if we both got hired. We could ride together and have lunch together. It would make working in a new environment more bearable for me.” That was the truth. Tiffany always found work more tolerable when she had someone who understood and could blow off steam with.

  “Me too. I have some social phobias.”

  “We all have something. I suppose they’re not the worst thing to have though.”

  “You’re right about that. I had a friend with some kind of panic disorder, and she couldn’t even make herself leave her house.”

  “That’s rough,” Tiffany said sympathetically. “Sometimes, I meet people like that and can see myself getting to that point if I really let myself go. I tend to just lock my worries away in a dark little corner of my mind and leave them there. Every now and then, it really catches up with me.”

  Alyssa nodded her agreement. “I try to keep myself distracted, so I don’t dwell on stuff. It’s the only thing that really works for me.”

  Tiffany’s thoughts drifted to Ryder. “Well, when the guys get out of their little meeting, I’ll have my favorite distraction.”

  Lifting her glass, Alyssa murmured, “I’ll drink to that.”

  ~ Ryder ~

  Sitting around the huge oval table, twenty men wearing cuts with Blind Jack MC patches got down to business.

  Darkness broke the silence. “Let’s talk business first. Ven, dish the dirt.”

  Ryder watched his father pull out a stack of papers and begin reading the club’s current financials.

  “We have around two hundred grand in our account for the month after expenses from all our business enterprises. Our payouts will be roughly six grand each for the twenty of us. Our three prospects will get stipends of three grand each. The nine widows and orphans will get paid out one and a half grand each, for a total payout of thirteen and a half grand. A grand apiece will get put on the books for the three club members and two affiliates currently doin’ time for this quarter, for a total of five grand. That leaves roughly fifty-two and a half grand for operating expenses on our businesses. We have almost a half a million in the MC savings account for long-term expenses. We added another ten grand to the thirty in cash we have sitting in our safe here at the clubhouse. It’s looking like this month will be pretty standard in terms of pay and revenue.”

  Darkness nodded his thanks. “Those are some comfortable numbers for each of us. Hickory has been looking at another business acquisition. I’ll have him talk to you about that.”

  Hickory cleared his throat then and sat forward in his chair. “I’ve been running the numbers on a warehouse out near the river. It’s going for dirt cheap, and though businesses in this area don’t run a lot of merchandise up and down the river, we feel there is enough business to turn a nice profit. Darkness has also pointed out how owning this piece of property would enable us to move drugs and guns easier and with less risk as we’re still taking an occasional job. The staffing would be minimal, and we’d be looking to add storage units for rent to beef up the monthly income. It’s in line with our other operations in terms of being a low investment and relatively high yield.”

  Ryder asked, “Wouldn’t adding a bunch of storage units draw unnecessary notice with people coming and going?”

  “Possibly, but it would also give cover to our movements,” Hickory conceded. “It’s really half a dozen of one and six of another, in that regard. The area is also out of the city limits, and we know the county doesn’t have a strong police presence in our area. It’s perfect for our needs.”

  Ryder listened intently as they went through every line item on their weekly agenda. They wrestled back and forth with a few issues and finally hit on the topic of most concern to him.

  Darkness leaned forward. “We’ve had a motion put forth to vote on one Jeremy Strond, AKA Ace.” That hardened stare cut across the table. “Ryder, speak up for your man.”

  Ryder stiffened a little. “Well, he ain’t my man exactly. We all know what his brother did, and we all know I gave him a dirt nap for his trouble. It’s true Ace did come gunnin’ for me, and we shot each other up…a couple of times, in fact. But we worked that shit out between the two of us.

  “He’s only been prospecting for a short time, but he prospected with us for almost a full year before he ended up in the pen. He’s good people, strong as fuck, never talks about shit he shouldn’t with the wrong people, and with as many enterprises as we’ve got spread all around, we could sure use another brother in play,” he said, listing what he viewed as the man’s strong suits. “Running around here working for peanuts after doing a solid dime seems fucked up to me. We know he’s solid, so I’d like to request a vote on patching him.”

  Darkness threw in his two cents worth. “He prospected under me before he did time. I thought he was good for our patch, and he ain’t done anything to make me change my mind on that account.” He glanced around the table. “I’ll need a second motion to bring this to a vote.”

  Ven spoke up first, his words filled with venom. “I don’t like the fucker. He looks too much like his fucked-up brother to suit me.”

  Ryder jerked his chin at his old man. “Rose likes him.”

  “I ain’t gonna second a motion, but I’ll abstain from the vote. Even though I know it ain’t right to hold his brother’s shit against him, I just can’t vote him in.”

  Darkness sighed. “We have a long-standing tradition of there being a unanimous vote to approve new members. However, that’s not written into the bylaws. Since there is no rule against abstaining, and in this case, there are extraordinary circumstances, I will allow it.”

  Hickory quickly chimed in. “I second the
motion.”

  Darkness intoned, “All those in favor, say yea.”

  Everyone sounded off.

  “All those opposed, say nay.”

  There was silence in the room.

  Hitting the gavel, Darkness said, “The yeas have spoken. As of this moment, Ace is a full-fledged member of the Blind Jacks MC.” Seeming tired, he added, “Now, unless we have some other new business to attend to, I’m calling for adjournment.”

  As everyone started filing out, Hickory, the club’s VP, walked up with a stack of papers. “Found this on the printer. It seems Ace has signed himself up for a college class.”

  Snagging the information, Ryder practically danced out to the bar. Dropping a kiss on Tiffany’s lips, he sat down beside her. Nodding his head in Ace’s direction, he asked, “Guess what our boy’s been up to?”

  Eyeing the papers he laid on the bar, she leaned over and whispered, “That was me. The pretty redheaded doctor isn’t really a medical doctor. She’s Dr. Reynolds’ ex-wife. She’s a professor over at the college.”

  “Lemme guess, she’s got a Ph.D. in archeology or some such shit,” he drolled.

  Nodding, she grinned. “He seems a little preoccupied with her.”

  “So, you thought you’d meddle in a brother’s personal life? That shit ain’t right, kitten.”

  “You do it all the time. Besides,” she countered, “I thought he wasn’t a brother until he got patched.”

  He couldn’t deny that she had a point. Swiveling his head around, Ryder shouted, “What’s a brother got to do to get a drink around this stinking hole?”

  Ace slid into place, staring down at his friend. “You aren’t used to waiting your fucking turn, are you?”

  “No, I’m not,” Ryder groused. “I’m supposed to have a special bottle of whiskey under the counter.”

  “Found it. Is this package yours as well?” Setting the bottle on the counter with a glass, Ace waited for Ryder’s response.

  “Nope, it’s yours.”

  Wrinkling his nose, Ace looked between Ryder and Tiffany. “Is this gift giving at the wrong time of year a couple’s thing? Because it feels like it.”

  “Just open the damn package so I can pour my drink.”

  Shaking his head, Ace tore the brown paper off the box and pulled the flaps open. Looking inside, he smiled—a genuine smile that made Ryder feel happy for his friend.

  Picking the cut up, Ace turned it around for everyone to see. “You’re a little premature in your gifting, aren’t you?”

  Sidling up to the bar, Darkness joined them and grabbed the whiskey, opened it, and began pouring glasses. “You got the vote. Put it on and get a prospect behind the bar, ‘cause as of now, shit like pouring drinks and wiping down counters ain’t for you, brother.”

  For the first time ever that Ryder could remember, Ace couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Ryder could tell he was trying, but it kept coming back with a vengeance.

  Darkness handed him a shot and held up his glass. “A toast to our newest patched brother. To ride the open road is a right. To do it in club colors is a privilege. Blind Jacks MC may be blind to all the shit the outside world throws our way, but never to each other.”

  Ryder raised his voice and his glass. “Hear, hear. I’ll drink to that.”

  All twenty brothers drank their shot and slammed their glass on the floor behind the bar, creating one hell of a mess. Everyone took turns congratulating Ace and thumping him on the back. Even Ven did the right thing. Ryder knew it cost his father something to stretch his hand across the way for Ace, and it made him respect his old man that little bit more.

  Picking up the stack of papers, Ryder waved them in the air. “Open your gift from my old lady.”

  Grabbing the papers, Ace’s stunned expression had everyone laughing. “What the fuck is this?”

  Ryder grinned. “You’re going to be the very first one us to go the college, dude.”

  Ace scowled and whined, “But I don’t wanna go to college.”

  “Sure you do,” Ryder assured him.

  “I seriously don’t.”

  “It’s only one evening a week for a few months,” Ryder reasoned, knowing eventually he’d get his way. Even if he had to twist the fucker’s arm to make it happen.

  “One evening a week, I could be doing something more productive.”

  “What could be more productive than getting laid?”

  Looking truly confused, Ace glance up at him. “Say what, brother?”

  “Your redheaded doctor is not a medical professional. She’s a professor of archaeology.”

  It took a moment, but eventually, realization dawned on Ace’s face. “She teaches this class?”

  Nodding, Ryder wrapped his arm around his woman. “That was her husband’s medical office…or should I say, ex-husband?”

  Rolling up the papers and stuffing them into his back pocket, Ace muttered to himself, “That pretty little bitch is mine.” Turning to Tiffany, he grinned. “I’d give you a hug right now, but I wouldn’t want your old man to kill me before I get to see my doctor again.”

  Ryder smirked. “If you’re real lucky, that pretty redhead will leave lipstick smeared all over your dick like before.”

  Elbowing him gently in the ribs, Tiffany shot him a disbelieving look.

  “You don’t fucking believe me, princess? I got the pictures to prove it.” Pulling out his cell, Ryder showed her the one with lipstick kisses on his lower belly. No way in hell was he letting her see the one with Ace’s dick hanging out. That was some nasty shit no one should have to look at, in his humble opinion. Hell, he was still trying to shake the memories, but no amount of alcohol in the world was burning them away fast enough for his liking.

  Okay, maybe he was just a little too jealous to show her any other man’s junk, too. Some things were just plain wrong.

  “How is it I didn’t notice you snapping pictures on your fucking cell phone?” Ace demanded.

  Ryder grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “‘Cause I’m a stealthy bastard, that’s how.”

  Tiffany grabbed the phone and began doing something that Ryder didn’t bother looking too closely at. He just assumed she was deleting the pic, which was fine by him.

  “I just shot it to you in an e-mail,” Tiffany announced. “I used my messaging app to crop and colorize it. Look at that! It’s your next year’s Christmas card photo.”

  Laughing, Ace pulled out his phone and whistled. “I ain’t never looked so good a day in my life. I think I’ll text my little school teacher a graphic reminder of our time together.”

  Ryder chuckled as Ace walked off with his phone. Yelling after him, Ryder lifted half out of his seat. “She ain’t a school teacher! She’s a freaking archeology doctor!” Turning to Tiffany, he sat back down. “I think you made his day, doll. Now, how’s about you take a picture of my junk and make a nice little Christmas card out of it, too?”

  Grinning at him, she deadpanned right back, “I’m not sure I can fit a picture of it on the front of a card, handsome.”

  The smile that spread across Ryder’s face was a mile wide and ten times as bright. Oh yeah, this one was a keeper.

  ~ Tiffany ~

  Barely cognizant of her surroundings, Tiffany laid her head against Ryder’s muscular chest. Enjoying the warmth of his body, she allowed him to carry her into their place. Well, it was really his place. Ryder was a bit of an anomaly in that he was a biker with a nice house and insisted upon her moving in with him.

  Though living with him was like a dream come true in terms of having good company and someone to cuddle up to, Tiffany did feel guilty for not contributing. At the moment, though, all those worries were a million miles from her mind.

  Ryder kicked the door shut and juggled her slightly as he flipped the lock. The house still smelled of the cookies she’d baked earlier in the day, but the sweet scent of almond was nothing compared to the smell of her hot, sexy man. He exuded expensive cologne and sexy male. Kissin
g his chest, she fisted his shirt in her hand.

  “You awake, kitten? We’re home.”

  In a sleepy haze, she responded, “I haven’t had a real home in a long time.”

  Lifting her slightly, he kissed her forehead. “Well, you got one now. Having you here makes a house worth having.”

  “You say the sweetest things.”

  “I love you,” he said, his voice rumbling in his chest. Peering down at her, his eyes were practically glowing with happiness…or maybe from the endless shots in celebration of Ace making the cut.

  “I think that’s the alcohol taking, handsome.”

  Heading straight to the bedroom, he set her on the bed and began peeling off her clothing. “I’m not the one who’s had too much to drink, sweetheart.”

  Helping kick off her pants, she mumbled, “I’m not drunk. I providence…romance…promise.” Kicking wildly, she tried to get them over her boots, forgetting that they had been tucked in.

  Kneeling down, Ryder gently pulled her boots off then her pants. “Yeah, you sure don’t sound too sober.”

  He rose, and she immediately went for the snap on his jeans, since it was at eye level.

  Smacking her hands away, Ryder began working her shirt and bra up and over her head. “Cut it out, sweetness. You ain’t gonna be playing with my cock tonight.”

  Flopping back on the bed, wearing only her panties, she gazed up at him. “Are you getting naked?”

  “I always sleep naked. You know that. You are in no condition to be trying to have sex.”

  The idea that he could take advantage of her at this point in their relationship was sweet if not a little frustrating. She knew what she wanted, drinks or no drinks, but persuading her gorgeous biker would take some serious work.

  “Maybe I could lay on your side with my legs spread. If your cock accidently fell into me, well, no one would have to know.”

  Chuckling, he began tearing his clothing off. “How’s about we sleep and see who accidentally falls into who when you’re nice and sober?”

 

‹ Prev