Undaunted: Knights in Black Leather

by Ronnie Douglas

  “So why don’t we take this conversation to the porch, Sheriff Patterson?” Echo gestured in the direction he’d come from. “Give the ladies a moment to collect their wraps, and we’ll all have a chat. There’s no need for the women to be uncomfortable.”

  The sheriff made no more mention of Zion’s gun or anything else. He simply walked past Echo and toward the front door.

  Echo glanced at Mrs. Evans. “Some of the boys are out patrolling the neighborhood, Maureen. I’ll be staying here while the sheriff talks to you.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He nodded and motioned to Zion. “Wait here until Maureen says otherwise. I’ll keep the sheriff company.”

  Barely a minute later, Aubrey and Mrs. Evans came out of the room. Mrs. Evans was now wrapped in a quilted red-and-gold housecoat with a thick satin sash cinched around her middle. Her feet were tucked into matching slippers, and her red-framed glasses perched on the edge of her nose. She looked like the English teacher he remembered and respected, but fierce in a new way since Echo had arrived.

  “Give us a few moments before you two join us,” she ordered. “I need to look outside. Our sheriff might miss any evidence if I don’t.”

  Then she walked past Zion, leaving him alone with Aubrey.

  “Thank you,” Aubrey whispered, leading him to another open door.

  He followed her into what was obviously her bedroom and stopped just inside the doorway.

  Now that they were alone, Aubrey stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Since he hadn’t stopped to grab his jacket, he was wearing only jeans and a T-shirt—which was twice as much as she had on. Aubrey’s hand was under the edge of his shirt—not intentionally, he suspected, but it was there all the same.

  “You’re okay,” he whispered, as much to assure her as to remind himself.

  “All I could think about was getting to Grandma Maureen,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. “This is ridiculous. The sheriff’s done nothing and—”

  “Echo will.” Zion didn’t loosen his hold yet. “I know you didn’t want the Wolves involved, but—”

  “I do now.” She pulled back and looked up at him. “He and I talked about it earlier.” She broke off with a strained laugh. “Mostly he talked and I nodded, but you know what I mean.”

  “I do.”

  “Maybe I’m a horrible hypocrite, but I’m grateful that he made the decision—and that my grandmother insisted I call him. I don’t want you, any of you, to do anything illegal or get hurt or anything, but I want to know why this keeps happening.”

  “You’re not a hypocrite.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “I am. I felt safer knowing you were coming, knowing about your gun, and—”

  He kissed her. He didn’t want to argue or hear why she had concerns about the Wolves, and he certainly didn’t want to see her tears. What he wanted was to remind them both that she was safe and here in his arms.

  But kissing her when she was barely dressed was dangerous. He wanted to prove that this wasn’t just lust, that the girl he held was special, that he thought she could be the one who got him.

  He also still wanted her.

  His hand slid from her back to her ass. As she pressed tighter against him, her shirt worked up farther and his fingertips were brushing her bare hip. He needed to stop. The door was open. Anyone could see them. Her grandmother. His father. The sheriff. This was a bad idea.

  But then Aubrey moaned, and his good intentions fled. He slid his hand down her bare skin, fingertips grazing the edge of her underwear. She shifted to give him better access, and what had started as a kiss escalated into more.

  Aubrey whimpered, but she didn’t say anything, and he needed to hear her say she was sure.

  “Tell me to stop or tell me to keep going, Red.” His hand stilled. He wanted this, wanted to touch her, wanted to feel her trembling in his arms, but he needed permission.

  She stretched up so she could capture his lower lip between hers, sucking it and inviting him closer. Then she destroyed him by saying, “I can’t.”

  He stepped back, wanting to get the hell out of there. She was the queen of mixed signals. “Right.”

  Aubrey caught his wrist. “My grandmother is in the house with your . . . boss and the sheriff.”

  For a moment, Zion didn’t know what to do. She was right, and he’d had the exact same thoughts. That didn’t change how tired he was of the back-and-forth.

  “But I want a date,” she said. “I told you I needed the night to think. I’m done thinking.”

  In a fluid move he pulled her to him with one hand and then shoved the door closed. Once they had that measure of privacy, he gently pushed her back until she was pinned between him and the door.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Promise.”

  He put one hand on the door on either side of her, pressed his hips tightly to her, and angled so he could whisper in her ear. “You promised me, Red. Don’t forget that.”

  She swallowed and leaned against his body. Her laugh was low and unsteady before she said, “I don’t think I could ever forget a second with you.”

  For a moment, he let himself enjoy her closeness, but reality was waiting outside the door. He stepped back again. “Get dressed.”

  He watched as she pulled a baggy sweatshirt over her T-shirt and shimmied into a pair of yoga pants, marveling that seeing her get dressed was somehow tempting too. Zion shook his head.

  “I want to take you home with me, Red, and never let you leave.”

  She met his eyes and said, “You’re not the only one who wants that.”

  Although she wasn’t blushing, he could tell that this wasn’t the sort of thing she admitted easily. He’d been sure that there was more here, but every time she’d started to admit it, she’d backed away. It made it hard to believe that she wouldn’t keep doing so.

  “Tell me you’re not going to run again,” he asked.

  Aubrey swallowed nervously. “I’m going to try very hard not to run. I don’t want to run. I want to try this, to try being together.”

  It wasn’t as reassuring as he’d hoped for, but it was better than the nervousness and backpedaling she’d excelled in so far. “We’ll make it work. I’ll make it work,” he promised.

  Chapter 23

  AUBREY?”

  “Be right there, Mrs. E.,” Zion said as he took my hand in his and walked toward the kitchen.

  I pulled my hand away from his before we walked into the room and busied myself setting out glasses and a pitcher of sun tea. The whole break-in was surreal, but sitting there with the police, Zion’s father, and my grandmother after what just almost happened in my room was too much. I shoved those thoughts aside and tried to focus on pouring the tea without shaking. I needed to listen to what they were saying, not think about Zion.

  He stood silently behind Echo, who sat next to my grandmother. The sheriff and a deputy sat at the table looking tense. The whole situation was tense.

  Then the door flew open. Echo had grabbed my grandmother and pulled her to her feet. In a split second, he’d put himself between her and whatever threat might be at the door.

  Zion had stepped in front of all of us, gun drawn.

  Beau stood there with a shotgun in his hands. Behind him, the senior brigade stood in a small clutch.

  The sheriff had done nothing but lumber to his feet. “For the last time, y’all need to stop brandishing weapons.”

  Beau ignored him. Zion and Echo simply exchanged looks.

  “I’m not armed,” Echo said, as if that was all that mattered. He leaned closer to my grandmother and whispered something to her.

  She nodded and squeezed his hand. Then she walked over to the door. It was obvious to me, and to anyone with basic observation skills, that my grandmother and the president of the Wolves could work like a team. That was more telling about their history than anything else had been.

  “Everyone’s fine,” she said t
o her assembled neighbors. “Eddie and Zion are here to talk to the sheriff with us.”

  Beau stood there grinning the whole time, shotgun held crosswise in front of him. “It’s about damn time,” he said. “Good to see you, Mr. Echo.”

  Echo nodded. “You’ll be seeing a lot more of me and the boys.” He looked past Beau. “I’m sorry you all have been troubled over here. We’ll get it sorted out, though.”

  The sheriff started, “Now, wait a second—”

  “Oh, bless your heart,” Christine said in that sugar-sweet voice of hers. “We all know you gave it a good try, Sheriff. Sometimes a man just needs a little help getting the job done.”

  Beau snorted, and several titters slipped out from the others. My grandmother sighed. “Go on, everyone. I’ll talk to you later. We don’t want to waste Eddie’s time because we’re all standing around.”

  Zion crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall while my grandmother sent Beau and the others on their way. Once she’d shut the door, Echo pulled out her chair for her. She shot him a chastising look, but smiled at him a second later and took her seat.

  “Where were we?” Echo prompted.

  “Discussing how the sheriff isn’t getting any results,” Grandma Maureen said.

  “Now, Miz Evans, we’ve gone over this—”

  “Rubbish,” she snapped. My grandmother was a few shades past angry this time. I couldn’t blame her for it, and I was betting no one else could either.

  Echo, however, was once more clinging to silence as she laid into the sheriff and his late-arriving deputy.

  Before tonight, if anyone would have told me that the sheriff and the president of the local chapter of the Southern Wolves would be sitting in my grandmother’s kitchen while both of their “deputies” took notes, I’d have laughed at them. I wasn’t laughing tonight. I was trying to figure out which of the supposed resources my grandmother had called was actually more of an upright citizen right now.

  The sheriff wasn’t winning.

  I had some issues with Echo’s business, but my only personal one was the way he’d confronted me about Zion. Regardless of that, I had to admit that I felt a lot safer under his watchful gaze than with the sheriff. For whatever reason, Sheriff Patterson hadn’t been active in stopping the crime wave here. I had no doubts that Echo would solve it.

  “So you’re saying these problems are related?” the sheriff said yet again when my grandmother pointed out that he’d been called out to the neighborhood more times in the past thirteen months than in the last five years.

  “Don’t be an imbecile. Of course they are!” My grandmother hadn’t been particularly polite the last time she’d called him out to the house, or when he’d been at the neighbors’ houses. She wasn’t usually this blunt, though.

  “Do you have any proof?”

  “Isn’t that your job?” Zion interjected.

  Sheriff Patterson shot him a glare. “You’re only here because I allow it.”

  “Zion and Eddie are here as my guests, Sheriff,” Grandma Maureen snapped. “I called them because my hearing isn’t what it used to be. I want to be sure I don’t miss anything.”

  My eyes widened at her lie.

  “And your granddaughter?” the sheriff prompted. “Is her hearing impaired too?”

  Grandma Maureen gave a long-suffering sigh. “No, Sheriff, but she was shaken up. Shock doesn’t make for the best focus. Eddie and I have been good friends since before you took office. In times of stress, a woman needs her friends.”

  The sheriff looked from her to Echo. “I see.”

  Echo remained silent. He’d said next to nothing the entire time the sheriff was taking our statement. He watched. He listened. Aside from his words in the hall and when Beau arrived, he might as well have not been there.

  At least that was what I thought until I returned from showing the sheriff and his deputy to the door.

  Once they were gone, Echo looked at my grandmother. “He’s either involved or covering for someone.”

  “That’s what I thought.” She tightened the sash on her housecoat and glared in the direction of the front door, where the sheriff and his slightly more astute deputy had left. “So where does that leave me?”

  “Practical matters first . . . I’ll have someone fix the window first thing tomorrow.” He nodded toward the broken living room window. “Tonight, we’ll cover it, and I’ll leave Killer here to keep an eye on you.” Echo’s gaze slid to mine as he added that last detail, as if daring me to object.

  “Thank you,” I said, answering for both my grandmother and myself. “There’s some plywood in the shed. That’s probably the quickest solution.” I looked at Grandma Maureen. “Are you okay while I go out and get it?”

  “I’ll stay until you’re back inside,” Echo said before she could reply. Then he looked at my grandmother. “Do you have any of that tea you kept at the school to calm upset parents?”

  She smiled. “Just like old times, then? Zion’s not in trouble for a change, at least.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he’s done something we can discuss.”

  “Thanks, Echo,” Zion said wryly. He walked to the back door, grabbed the flashlight off the counter, and opened the door for me. “Come on, Red.”

  I didn’t mention that he’d reverted to calling me Red again, but it felt good to hear. I walked to the door. “Be right back.”

  “Take your time,” Echo said in a lighter tone than I’d heard him use before. “I’m in no rush.”

  My grandmother shot a glare at him and added, “No need to dawdle either.”

  Echo laughed. “Afraid to be alone with me, Maureen?”

  “As if. I’ve got no more use for a man half my age than I did the last time you came sniffing around.” She bustled over to the cupboard.

  Zion and I both froze. It was one thing to know in vague terms that they had history, but it was a bit different to hear it spelled out quite so clearly. I didn’t know whether to tiptoe out the door or run. There were conversations best not overheard, and this was fast becoming one of them.

  “Thirteen years, Maureen. I know you weren’t a math teacher, but even you can figure out that thirteen years is not half your age.” Echo sounded weary as he followed her to the cupboard. Then, in a louder voice, he ordered, “Close the door behind you, Killer.”

  Outside in the dark, the yard looked ominous. It never had before, but I guess a break-in does that. The porch light wasn’t bright enough suddenly.

  Zion turned on the flashlight.

  “I always thought he was a little too willing to go to parent-teacher conferences,” Zion said lightly.

  “So you didn’t know?” I asked.

  “Echo doesn’t have an old lady, never has, and I doubt that Mrs. E. would’ve been willing to be . . . that she’d . . .” His words faded away.

  I laughed at his unexpected awkwardness.

  Zion looked at me, frowned, and said, “Just so you know, I’m planning to forget that whole sentence that I started and what I heard in there. You don’t seem surprised.”

  I shrugged. “Grandma Maureen isn’t exactly a stereotypical schoolteacher, in case you don’t already know that,” I said mildly. I didn’t particularly like the idea of her sleeping with Echo, but from the way they were relaxed around each other, I wasn’t foolish enough to think it hadn’t happened. “Just be glad it didn’t get too serious. You’d have been my step-uncle or something.”

  Zion stopped midstep and looked at me. “Who told you? Or did you figure it out on your own?”

  I realized what I’d said then, that I’d admitted to knowing that Echo was more than a boss to him, that I’d pointed out that the club president was his father. I’d known for less than a night and already said something stupid. Carefully, I asked, “Does it matter?”

  “That you know that Echo’s probably my father?” He watched me. “I don’t know, does it?”

  I tried to keep my expression bland. Obviously I failed, because Z
ion muttered, “Damn him. That’s what happened earlier tonight.”

  “Zi—”

  “He’s why you . . . earlier at the bar. That’s what that whole mess was, wasn’t it? He said something about being my father?” Zion’s fists clenched, and he turned back toward the house.

  I stepped in front of him. “No.”

  “Why not? If he’s going to admit it to someone, why not me? He thinks he can meddle in my life like he’s a father after all this time—”

  “He simply pointed out that there were consequences to your leaving the Wolves and that I wasn’t being fair.”

  “I’m a little old for him to start talking about fair.” Zion stepped to the side like he was going around me.

  I grabbed his arm. “Stay here. Please?”

  “Why?”

  “Because seeing them doing whatever they are isn’t what you want,” I said lightly, hoping to defuse the mood that Zion’s realization had sparked. When that didn’t get a reaction, I sighed and continued more seriously, “And because Echo was right to talk to me. I shouldn’t ask you to change and give up your family just for a chance at us.”

  “I don’t remember you asking me to,” Zion said mildly. His fists were still balled at his sides.

  “Maybe I didn’t say the words,” I started. I slid my hand up to his biceps. “I’m sorry I put you in this situation.”

  “Jesus, Red. You’re missing the point. He knew. He knew how I felt, and he should’ve stayed out of it, and you should’ve said something to me. We’re never going to get anywhere if you can’t talk to me instead of jumping to conclusions and running. Just so we’re clear”—he held up a hand and ticked off statements—“I like you; I am willing to try us; I’ve already got permission for you to keep your job and for me to take a month to consider if I truly want to walk away from the club; I haven’t even touched another woman since the night we met at the fair—”

  I withdrew my hand and stepped backward. “I’m sorry I didn—”

  He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “I might not be a college student, but I can do something else to take care of us if this works. Something legal.” He caught me with both hands on my shoulders and held me steady as he added, “And aside from liking talking to you and liking the look of you, we don’t lack for chemistry.”