Disruption

by Victoria Johns

  There was only one thing for it; a sprint up Runyon Canyon. Most people went there for the hike or a selfie with the views behind them. The tourists ambled up just to tick it off the list or to see a sunset. There were the pretty girl types in cropped tops and booty shorts who jogged up but never broke a sweat, girls who mentally high-fived themselves because their makeup was still in place, but in my view had wasted a good run. Then there was me, sprinting like I was being chased in simple athletic running shorts, a no name brand running vest and battered old running shoes. For me, the Runyon was not a run or a hike, it was a sprint to the top, a breather for a few minutes and a sprint back down. If I wasn’t glistening in sweat and had sand dusted legs I hadn’t worked hard enough. With the morning show offs gone and it being too early for the ‘sun setters’ it was the perfect time of day to blow through my unsettling mood.

  I jogged the few miles from my house at a decent pace, using it as more of a leg stretch than most people would. When I hit the bottom of the trail, I forgot every damn thing rattling around my brain and upped the pace. The clench of my fists and grit of my teeth caused me to even my breathing and inhale deeply through my nose. The sound of my soles crunching over the hardcore top took over from the lessening traffic noise as I progressed. Two miles in and I knew my body had more gas in the tank, there was more energy to squeeze from my muscles to truly make it worthwhile.

  Pushing myself for that extra burn, when I rounded the last corner to the top, I was breathing deeply, my vest top and hair were both sweat drenched, and like usual I wished I didn’t have the beard, it was like sleeping under a comforter on a scorching day. There were only two other people meandering around the viewing section when I got to the end. One had a professional looking camera, the other was a woman sat on the floor near the very edge, rubbing her ankle and calf.

  I wanted to ignore her, but the rattlesnakes would be heading out to sunbathe in the path soon, it was warm and hot concrete boulders were like a magnet for them.

  “You okay?” I breathed out in gasps, feeling irked that I wasn’t as young as I told myself, before folding myself in half to rest my hands on my thighs.

  “Zane?”

  I recognized her as soon as she turned around. “Bella? You hurt?”

  Bella Bishop was the younger sister of my right-hand man, Bish. They were three years apart and he was as protective of her as he was of me.

  “Just felt a little twinge… in my ankle,” she laughed. “I didn’t know you jogged.”

  “Only when the mood takes me. You wanna move from the edge?”

  “It’s not a big drop,” she said, stretching her back muscles to risk a look.

  “I know, but the snakes…” I pointed at the rattlesnake warning signs, “those signs are real.”

  Bella looked at me, her face stilled and then dropped a bit before realization kicked in and she scooted back like one was lying in wait to devour her.

  My words came with laughter as I watched her reaction play out. “Judging by that movement, I’d say your ankle is fine.”

  “You really should bring water up here if you’re going to go at it that hard.” Bella recovered and replied. She was a nurse, and the medic within her couldn’t help but comment. I smirked and opened my mouth, about to make some sleazy comment before she cut me off. “Get your mind out of the gutter. God, you and my brother, like two peas in a pod.”

  “I’ll tell him you said that.”

  “You tell him we were up here alone together, and I suspect he’ll have a go at scalping you,” she laughed back, standing up and coming over to me.

  While I’d always known that Bella suspected what kind of guy her brother was, she didn’t know it all and there was no way I was telling her that he’d already scalped more than his fair share of people. In truth, if anyone did harm to Bella Bishop, they’d end up begging for a simple scalping. The things that man would do to them were indescribable.

  “Are you going to walk back down with me, or am I going to have to try and keep up?” Bella asked.

  “I’ll walk,” I replied, not wanting to walk at all, but it would make for a change and be cool to catch up with her.

  “I see how painful that idea is, we’ll compromise on a jog.”

  Once we set off back down, I let her set the pace and fell in line beside her. Her hair was thrown back in some haphazard pile at the back of her head and she had on three-quarter, crazy patterned leggings and a t-shirt that told me she was ‘Team Edward.’ She was just very ordinary. Normal figure, shapely with all the lumps and bumps in the right places and I knew she had a decent brain in her head with a capacity to love unconditionally. She was the original saintly nurse.

  Bella Bishop would make someone a great wife, she’d give them a beautiful life and family, if only Bishop would let that happen. To my knowledge, he’d run off most of the people she’d dated because of stuff he’d found out about them. It didn’t matter how many times I tried to tell him the beauty of a relationship is being able to make your own decisions, he didn’t care. If he could dig, research or hack into anyone in the lives of the people he loved, he would.

  “What’s new with you?” she asked, throwing a glance my way.

  “Same old, same old. Your brother keeps me on my toes.”

  “I know that feeling. He needs a woman to distract him, then maybe both of us can have a bit of peace.”

  “Bishop and a woman, fuck, that’ll be the day.” I laughed openly, wondering how the hell he’d go about hooking his star to someone else’s.

  “I don’t get why you and my brother are still single.”

  It didn’t feel like a question and I knew she was expecting an answer. My natural instinct was to ignore her, I rarely answered questions like that. But Bella was virtually family and I didn’t want to disrespect her. “Business gets in the way of that kind of thing.”

  “Only if you let it, Zane.” Her voice turned wistful. “I worry about my brother.”

  This was why I didn’t answer shit. There was a fine line between giving away more information than you should and opening yourself up to more questions. “He’s a big boy, he can look after himself.”

  “Not talking about that, Zane.” She pulled up abruptly and stopped. “He deserves more than what he thinks he does.”

  Shit. This just got really intense. “Bella—”

  “No, I’ll just say it once. You love him as much as I do, and you could probably take this on board too. You both deserve to love and be loved. Life is too short to be all about business.”

  “Bella, look—” For a second time she cut me short.

  “Just remember to live a little. If that brother of mine ever lets me date.” She raised a brow, daring me to argue “What? I know he scares them off. I just don’t want him to look back at his own life with regret. Come on, race you.” She took off, cutting our conversation dead.

  Bella and I had never had any personal conversations, as such, we laughed and joked but there was an invisible boundary that she’d never crossed before, until today. There was no way she wanted to race me, but she was saving us both a little awkwardness. Me from ignoring her and her from having to deal with the fact that I was never going to answer.

  We jogged on in silence, all the way down the trail until she stopped by the side of a Prius hybrid at the bottom and reached into her bra, before producing a car fob. “This is me. Ride home?”

  “No, but thanks.”

  “I want to see you at my dinner table soon,” she shouted, climbing into the car.

  What was it with people wanting to invite me to awkward dinner parties? “You have a table?” I joked.

  “I have a coffee table and a Wong’s take out menu.”

  I nodded, waved and hit the tarmac again.

  I’d gone for a run to clear my head, but it hadn’t turned out that way. Bella’s statement had struck a chord I was trying to bury deep. I’d been ready to come back from Hawaii and put it all out in the open with Bailey, to do
exactly what Bella was talking about and live my life with no regrets. Be with someone who could love me and more importantly, I could love back just as fiercely.

  But Bailey had pulled the plug on that.

  She’d cut that off before we’d even had the chance to try.

  It didn’t matter what Bella Bishop said or thought about her brother’s loneliness, he was the lucky one.

  If you’d never had it, never felt that need to be with a person, that electric connection, then it couldn’t rip your heart out when it all went to shit.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “I know it’s early, but you look like shit.” Bishop was not wrong, even if it was 4am. We’d agreed on a steady drive across California and then into Nevada, stopping at as many of our businesses as we wanted to… or not.

  We did that every so often, just dropping into places and catching them unaware. I knew I should have been focusing on business, but I just wanted to have beers, get laid and fight. Yeah… get rid of some aggression. “Did you sleep?”

  “Off and on,” I grumbled back as I threw my bag in the trunk.

  “Breakfast first?”

  “Coffee and donuts.”

  “Road trip breakfast of champions,” he agreed, and pulled away just as the sun was trying to burn off the cloud haze.

  Three bright-pink glazed donuts later and more shots of espresso than is probably healthy for most upright humans, and my less grouchy side was poking through. Ever since Bailey had walked out on me, I’d had only two modes of sleep. Drink enhanced dead-to-the-world or toss and turn as my brain worked overtime replaying the whole fucking mess like a damn film reel.

  “Keep eating like that and I see a gut in your future,” Bishop chuckled.

  “Doubtful. Could still out pace your ass up a hill.” That reminded me that I’d seen Bella yesterday at the Canyon. “Worked up a sweat with your little sister actually, just last night.”

  I braced instantly. I knew what his reaction would be, and he didn’t let me down, hopefully this was fight number one of the fun packed road trip.

  “Fuck you say?” I only just heard his words as the car tires squealed to a stop like we were endurance testing rubber for Dunlop.

  I smirked at him and raised my brow. “Bella.”

  His head slowly turned in my direction, like he was trying to convince his coiled muscles to allow him the movement. “Know her fucking name. Tell me you did not take your fucked-up mood out on my sister.”

  Now it was my turn to glare.

  “Now, what the fuck did you say?” My tone was icy and laced with full intent. Best friend or not, right hand man and boss or not, we had no problems taking chunks out of each other to settle a difference. After all, we’d been doing it since we both started working for the family and it was one of the reasons why we trusted each other.

  “Family is off fucking limits.”

  He was absolutely right, and it was pissy of me to goad him like this over something so innocent.

  “Relax, Bish. Went for a run up the Canyon and she was there. We jogged back down together.”

  “Is that code for you lured her to your playboy prison and she’s still tied to some sex cross in your basement?”

  I burst out laughing. We both knew there was no sex cross in my basement. A few other things I could use for torture and interrogation but nothing that enjoyable, well, not for them anyway.

  His body visibly sagged, like a switch had been flicked to release its tension. He got his breathing under control and looked at me. “Zane…”

  “Forget it. I get it. Shit move on my part. It’s done.” I couldn’t have him apologizing and feeling shit over my need to get a reaction out of him. “But you should probably talk to her about rattlesnake awareness.”

  Shaking his head, he put the car back in drive and pulled away. “She’d probably try and pet one, just before it sunk its fangs into her.”

  “Accurate. Also, just like going on a date with me,” I joked, and things were back to normal between us.

  But not with me.

  Things would never be the same with me where love was concerned. I was a different man.

  Once burned.

  Never again.

  Like everything Bishop planned, he’d done an almost tour guide route of the businesses most likely to be going against the grain and stepping outside the rules. As expected, he’d thrown a few of our trusted places in there too, we needed to stop at a variety so as not to cause suspicion the closer we got to Mickey’s territory. I imagined by the time we got to his neck of the woods, they’d be so clean that the stink would be a little more obvious to sniff out.

  “This is a surprise,” Kelly, the receptionist at one of our small motels chirped as we walked through the door.

  She greeted us with open arms, but there was still a tinge of stress on her face. Even though she was lower down the staff pecking order and knew she had nothing to worry about, her boss would feel the brunt of it, should we see something we didn’t like. One of the important lessons my dad taught me was that middle management are one of three things; competent, complacent or complicit. Two of those carried a heavy penalty. Her boss would roll any shit I gave him downhill and for the likes of Kelly it probably meant an immediate firing, especially because he was an asshole with an ego. For him though, the penalties would be more severe.

  Kelly turned and reached for the telephone. “I’ll call Mr. Palmer.”

  The motel we’d stopped at was one we used for our honey traps, you could never have enough judges, sheriffs and lawyers in your back pocket, and pictures of them fucking girls young enough to be their daughter usually did the trick.

  “No need,” I reassured her. “It’s just a pitstop.”

  Her smile was one of relief. No doubt she’d be interrupting him doing something nasty with someone he shouldn’t be with, he liked to dip his fingers in the honey pot too. That was the thing about my family’s business. Nearly all of it was illegal, underhand and dangerous and only underhand, shady, crazy-ass motherfuckers got into bed with us and made it out the other side. If you were a law abiding, good American you got a normal job and lived your average life. To ride with the Teagues, you had to be ninety-nine percent insane with just that one percentage moral compass to keep your ass out of jail.

  We’d casually called into four places and as expected the bosses started appearing on site. Word was travelling and some had started to call Bishop to see if there’s were on our route. They never rang me and seeing as Bishop was about as conversational as a mute, most hedged their bets and stayed close, just in case.

  After our last stop we rolled into a hotel for the night and I was ready to be out of the car and grab some dinner. I knew Bishop would join me for that and probably a drink or two, but it was bothering him that we’d not really turned up anything. Ted the tech guy had also found nothing, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something. In our world, nothing was ever smooth sailing.

  Dragging my fingers down my face and scratching at my beard, I sighed. “I wanna drink and a warm body.”

  “In that order?” Bishop looked at me with a smile.

  “Or on repeat.” I nodded. “Multiple drinks and multiple warm bodies.”

  He looked sideways at me; he knew there was something amiss with me. “I’ve got a hot date with my laptop, a cigar and a tumbler or four of whiskey.”

  When Bishop was determined, he was really fucking determined and finding the root cause of his suspicion was only part of it. I knew he needed to test himself and see if he still had the mind of a techy, a great hacker, and also see if Ted was still capable of the faith and investment we’d made in him.

  “You sure you don’t wanna hit a club with me?” I tried to lure him as I settled the check for dinner.

  “No. One of us needs to be on the ball tomorrow.”

  “A bar then?” I just couldn’t let it go.

  “Just go, have a drink and get your rocks off. Make sure you�
�re ready in the morning.” He walked away, leaving me with the prospect of some mindless fucking. The best way to get over Bailey would be to get under someone else. A lot of someone elses.

  I selected her carefully.

  Hot body. Flirtatious. And fuck-all like my female Roach nemesis. It was only slightly disappointing that she didn’t make me work for it. When you’ve chased someone for as long as I’d dreamt about Bailey Roach, the feeling of attaining the unattainable was definitely a big part of the thrill.

  I followed Kimmy, Cammy or something like that down the hallway to my hotel room, purely focused on the swell of her ass cheeks. Her dress was so short, had it been white she could have played tennis in it at Wimbledon. This girl knew her strengths and I watched as a hot pink talon, casually teased the back of her thigh before lifting the dress to give me a real peek. Her ass cheek was exposed and bare, taunting me with the lack of underwear.

  “Like the show?” she breathed.

  “Next door on the right, darlin’.”

  Clearly, whatever her name was, was feeling brazen and a little buzzed from one too many cocktails as she reached for the hem of her dress and removed it as I was searching for the keycard to the room. The woman, who I decided was called ‘darlin’,’ because her name was gone from my head completely, stood naked in just a pair of heels, in the hotel hallway, licking her lips at me. I toyed with the key card a little longer, giving the lonely guy working the nightshift security a thrill to keep him awake. When I heard the beep, I stepped aside and beckoned her inside ahead of me. Expecting her to swish and sway her ass to the bed, I was surprised when she spun back on me and began clawing at my pants as she latched her fucking sticky lip glossy lips firmly on mine. When she started to lick my beard, irritation kicked in

  No. I didn’t want that kind of fuck. This wasn’t a prom date.