“Is he attractive?”
“Attractive enough…” Margot narrows her eyes at me. “What?”
“You know what they say,” I tease. “The best way to a mother’s heart is through her child.”
“Who says that?” she argues.
“They do. Also, me,” I grin.
Margot waves a hand at me. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“We’ll see,” I retort with a giggle. “Call me and apologize when he asks you out.”
“Whatever.” Margot shakes her head, but now she’s smiling, too. “Come on, let’s go watch Benji show off.”
By the time we get out to the driveway, Benji’s already opened the garage door and got his knee pads and helmet on. I go over and make admiring noises about his scooter, and he proudly tells me how fast he can go on it. “It’s a stunt scooter. John and me are gonna build a half-pipe. Watch, Auntie Em!”
Benji kicks off, zipping past Margot and me, then bends down, jumps, and does a bunny hop.
“Wow!” I shout. “That’s so cool!”
“Watch this!” Traveling down the driveway, he hops up again, and changes his stance from right foot forward to left foot forward. “That’s called a sex change!” he yells.
“Benji!” Margot cries in shock. I start to crack up, hand covering my mouth.
“What?” Benji hops off the scooter and turns to us, confused.
“Er… nothing!” Margot stammers. “Just… let’s think of a different name for that later!”
“Oh my God!” I giggle. “Classic!”
“Unbelievable.” Margot shakes her head. “I wonder where the hell he got that? YouTube videos, probably.”
I’m still chuckling to myself as Benji gets back on the scooter and kicks off again, flying down the driveway. He banks left, turning toward the sidewalk, then disappears from view.
A second later, Benji lets out a yell, followed by a thump I can’t identify.
“Ben!” Margot shouts in alarm.
Both of us break into a run toward the sound. We sprint down the driveway toward the front of the house, but when the sidewalk comes into view, what we see is the last thing I expect.
Benji’s scooter is on the ground. But Benji isn’t. Instead, he’s being set back onto his feet by the man he just accidentally ran into.
Striker.
15
Striker
The kid stares up at me with wide eyes. I can’t tell if he’s scared or not. He just rammed into me full force with that fuckin’ scooter, got me right in the goddamn shin, too. Hurts like a motherfucker, but at least I have the control not to unleash all the words I want to.
“I... I…” he stutters.
“Benji!” A woman’s cry makes me look up. A short chick with dark hair the same color as the kid’s is running toward us. Jogging next to her is Ember.
Glancing back down at the boy, I realize I’m holding him by the shoulders about a foot off the ground. I set him down.
“You okay, kid?” I rumble. Eyes still round as saucers, he nods without a word.
“Benji, what have you done?” The woman who must be his mom and Ember’s assistant, demands, sounding mortified.
“It’s okay,” I tell her, trying not to wince about my fucking leg. “I kinda came out of nowhere. He didn’t have time to see me.”
“Benjamin, you apologize right now,” she scolds.
“I’m sorry,” the kid squeaks, sounding like he might cry.
“It’s fine, kid. Really.” I reach over, tousle his hair. “Sh-… mistakes happen. Thanks for the apology, though.”
Next to the woman, Ember is looking unhappy. Her eyes meet mine for a second, then glance away at the woman, who’s staring at my cut.
“Um, Striker,” she begins, “this is Margot. And this little monster is Benji.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say, offering my hand. Margot blinks, then takes it.
“Margot, this is Striker Rossi. He’s… my ride,” she mumbles.
“Your ride?”
I have to stop myself from sayin’ the dirty joke that springs to mind at her words.
“Yes. He drove me here. He, uh, came back to pick me up.” The lie doesn’t exactly trip off Ember’s tongue, but maybe it’s good enough.
Margot cocks her head. “Is your car in the shop?”
Ember grabs the question like a lifeline. “Yes!” she blurts, then pulls back a little. “I mean, it will be. You know how touchy my car is. It wouldn’t start this morning, so…” She glances at me hopefully.
“Yeah,” I confirm. “So Ember called me to drive her here. I’m one of the owners of an auto and motorcycle repair shop, Twisted Pipes.”
“Oh! Yes, I’ve heard of that place.” Margot says. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ember’s shoulders relax a little.
I figure maybe Ember would like it if I changed the subject. “So, Speed Demon,” I say to the kid. “Nice wheels you got there.”
Benji lights up like a Christmas tree. “Thanks! Wanna see me do a trick?”
“For sure. Whaddaya got for me?”
Benji pushes off down the sidewalk, and once he gets speed, he starts to hop up and down, switching stances from right foot forward to left foot forward, over and over. I whistle through my teeth and clap. “Nice job!”
“Thanks!” Benji calls back. “That’s called — “
“Benji! That’s enough!” his mom shouts.
I cock a brow at Ember, who’s stifling giggles.
“I’ll tell you later,” she chokes.
We watch the kid do a couple more tricks, and then Ember tells Margot we should probably get going. Benji comes back and we tell him goodbye.
“I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” Ember smiles at her. “Thanks so much for brunch — it was delicious!”
“Anytime. And I mean that,” Margot replies. She looks at me. “Nice meeting you.”
“You, too.” I lift my chin at her.
We head down the driveway together, Ember and I. For some reason, my arm involuntarily raises, as if to go to the small of her back. At the last minute, I catch myself.
“I gather from Margot’s surprise you didn’t tell her about me at brunch, huh?” I say instead.
Ember angles her face away. I notice her cheeks are turning rosy.
“No,” she says, lifting a shoulder. “I mean, it’s silly, right? I don’t really need protection, after all. And I don’t want her to worry, so… It would just make things weird.”
“You don’t know you don’t need protection,” I counter.
“Fine. I don’t know.”
“Maybe you should tell her, just in case. I mean, if Cady’s ex comes to the office, shouldn’t Margot know that’s a possibility?”
“I’m a family law attorney,” she points out. “There’s always a possibility someone could come in and start a fuss. Margot’s aware of that.”
I decide to let it go for now. On the way over to the clubhouse, Ember tells me more about Margot. She says Margot’s work schedule is basically Ben’s school schedule. She works until three p.m. On weekdays so she can pick her son up from elementary, except for one day a week when she picks him up later from karate.
“It works out great for both of us,” Ember explains. “She gets flexibility, and I get an assistant for just enough hours during the week. Plus, she knows if Benji gets sick, her boss won’t be a hard-ass about her taking personal time.”
I think about Ember’s words as we pull into the clubhouse parking lot — about how close she still is with her husband’s cousin and her kid. That’s kind of impressive. It’s pretty cool she figured out how to give a single mom the ideal work schedule — and probably the ideal boss, as well. It’s a side of Ember that’s new to me: her generosity. And how she cares about family.
Speaking of family, I’m just putting the Tahoe in park when who do we see coming out of the clubhouse but Cady and Wren.
“Huh. Wonder what they’re doin’ here,” I drawl.
I clim
b out of the driver’s side and Wren sees me right away.
“Uncle Stwikah!” Wren screams my name like she hasn’t seen me in years. She catapults herself toward me and launches herself into my arms.
“Hey, Bird!” I greet her, giving her a tight squeeze as I pick her up. “What are you two doing here?”
“We came to visit Daddy!” she informs me. “In the clubhouse.”
“Tank forgot his phone at home,” Cady explains as she catches up. “He asked me to come drop it off for him.”
“Good to see you, Cade. He in there, then?”
“Yep. He had a couple of things to talk to Angel and Beast about.”
Cady starts to say more, but stops when she sees Ember, who has come around the front of the Tahoe from the passenger side. Her face register surprise at first, then dawning understanding.
“Well, hello, there,” she greets Ember, raising an eyebrow. “Hey, Wren, you remember Ember, right?”
“Ye-e-es,” Wren drawls, peeking at Ember from over my shoulder.
“Hi, there, Wren,” Ember says. “It’s nice to see you again! How are you doing today?”
“Good! Um, we just saw my daddy!” Wren informs her breathlessly. “And now weah goin’ to visit Uncle Daniel, and then weah goin’ to the pahk!”
“Is that right, Bird?” I say, suppressing a chuckle. Wren still has a little trouble with her r’s, especially if she’s tired or excited. I know Cady and Tank are working on it with her, but I think it’s cute as hell.
Wren nods like a bobblehead, then flings her arms tighter around my neck. “I love you, Uncle Stwikah!” she cries.
“I love you, too, Bird,” I say gruffly. I dunno, this kid really knows how to get to me.
“Well, I wish we had all day for this love fest,” Cady says, “but we need to get going.” She reaches for Wren and takes her from me, hoisting her onto her hip. “Oof, come on, big girl. We’re bringing Daniel and his friend lunch at the nursing home. They’ve requested McDonalds. So of course, Wren is very excited about that.”
“McDonalds!” Wren repeats gleefully, lifting up her hands. “And I get chicken nuggets, wight?”
“Yes, you get chicken nuggets.” Cady rolls her eyes at us, but she’s smiling. “See you guys later.”
We watch as the two of them walk off, then turn toward the clubhouse.
“What are you, the kid whisperer?” Ember teases me under her breath. “First Benji, and now Wren.”
“Nah.” I blow her off with a wave of my hand. But I admit, Wren is a special kid, and yeah, we do seem to have a bond. And that Benji kid was pretty cool, too.
“I think Cady was a little surprised to see us together,” Ember remarks.
“Yeah, seems like it. Maybe she forgot Tank wanted you guarded for a while.”
Or maybe she figured Tank wouldn’t pick me for the job because I’m too much of a drunk asshole.
The thought bugs me more than it should.
As we reach the clubhouse door, it occurs to me I should probably prep Ember for this.
“So, here’s the deal,” I say, turning to her. “I called Tweak while you were at Margot’s. He’s agreed to meet us here, since this is where he keeps most of his tech. But it’s still early on a Sunday, so, uh… I’m not really sure what you’re gonna see once we’re inside.”
“Why would Sunday morning be unusual?” she asks, puzzled.
“Well, it’s just that the Lords… they like to party pretty hard. At least the ones who don’t have old ladies yet.”
“Old ladies?” Ember wrinkles her nose. “What kind of term is that?”
“Ah, don’t get bent out of shape. That’s just what the wives and permanent girlfriends are called. No disrespect meant.” I exhale, scrub a hand across my face. “Look, what I’m tryin’ to say is, last night was Saturday night, so…”
Her mouth quirks as she finally understands what I’m trying to say.
“So I might be walking into the aftermath of a den of iniquity,” she finishes for me.
“Yeah. Maybe,” I agree. “Though Cady and Wren didn’t look that traumatized. Still, brace yourself, I guess.”
Ember squares her shoulders and makes a comical show of getting ready.
“Very funny,” I mock-scowl. Then I push open the door, and together, we walk into the clubhouse.
It ain’t as bad as I was afraid of. The place smells a little stale, like beer and cigarettes. There’s some furniture kind of strewn around, and bottles and glasses clutter most of the surfaces. My main worry was that there’d still be a bunch of naked and half-naked bodies lying around, but I guess we got here late enough that everyone’s woken up by now. No one’s in the main room when we walk in, but there are noises coming from the kitchen, and some banging from the old-ass water pipes, which means someone is in one of the upstairs apartments taking a shower.
I glance over at Ember as she takes the whole thing in. I wasn’t looking forward to bringing her here — I imagined her judging the place, looking down her nose at it, and at the club. Ember’s a classy girl. The kind you imagine taking out to a fancy place for dinner, not a roadhouse. But seeing her here with her simple jeans and T-shirt, she seems almost right at home. She doesn’t seem offended or surprised by the roughness of the place. My shoulders relax a little.
“Whoa! Ember, what are you doin’ here?” A voice booms from the hallway.
We turn to see Jude coming out of the kitchen with a mug in one hand. He’s a little rough around the edges this morning, and his hair is wild and sticking out in all directions, but he immediately turns on that cocky charm of his.
“Hey, Jude!” Ember replies easily. “You look like hell.”
Jude booms with laughter. “Flattery, flattery. You, on the other hand, look good enough to eat. Which…”
“Prospect!” I bark.
“Oh, yeah. Hey, Strike.” Jude pretends he just noticed me standing next to her. “What’s shakin’? You two are about eight hours too late for the party.”
“We’re here to see your computer guy,” Ember says. “Tweak?”
“Huh.” Jude furrows his brow. “I ain’t seen him here this morning.”
“He’s meeting us here,” I interrupt, pissed at myself for being irritated.
“You want some coffee, Ember?” Jude asks with a wink. “There’s a fresh pot in the kitchen the club whor— I mean, girls, made.”
“No thanks.” She pats her stomach. “I just had brunch.”
A few more of the men emerge from the kitchen and the upstairs apartments. Beast, Hale, Thorn, and Hawk converge on us, each one of them eyeing Ember appreciatively as they introduce themselves. She’s polite with all of them — friendly, even — and before I know it, I’m even more pissed off than I was when it was just Jude. Pretty soon, I can’t fuckin’ take it anymore.
“Come on,” I growl, practically grabbing Ember by the arm. “Let’s go see if Tweak’s around.”
“See ya tonight, Ember,” Jude calls after us.
“Son of a bitch,” I grumble as I lead her away.
“What?” Ember asks.
“Nothing. Come on, Tweak’s office is over here.”
I figured Tweak would beat us to the clubhouse, and I’m not disappointed. He’s already sitting at his command center, the multiple screens that litter his two desks all illuminated and ready to go. He stands, and I introduce Ember, watching as she takes in his thin features, wild hair, and sharp blue eyes.
“Have a seat.” Tweak lifts his chin toward two old-style swiveling office chairs that are shoved against one wall. I grab them and wheel them up, indicating for Ember to sit in the one closer to the screens. “I don’t have much for you, at least not right now. I was looking to track down Wren’s mom a few months ago, when we first figured out that she’d hooked up with an enemy of the MC.”
Tweak cuts his eyes toward me, an unspoken question in them.
“You can tell her anything you want.”
Tweak nods. “Okay.
The short of it is, this fucker named Demon had a score to settle with us. We’re assuming Jess was his bitch — at least at the time — and from what we understand, she told Demon her kid’s father was one of the Lords.”
Ember chews her lip. “So, this man got the idea to use Wren as a way to blackmail Tank.”
“That’s right. They dumped Wren off on Tank’s doorstep. That much you know.” Tweak rubs his eyes. “We figure they were hoping that once Tank had a chance to bond with her, when the time came, he would put the life of his own innocent child over his fellow club members. Luckily, Tank told Angel, our prez, about it.
“The two of them came to me, and I got to work looking to find out any info I could about how to track down Jess or Demon.” Tweak’s mouth twists into an ugly snarl. “The short of it for your purposes is, I ended up findin’ out how to track Demon down, but I never got much on Jess. Far as I could tell, she hasn’t had a permanent address in a while. The most I got was an apartment she used to live in with a roommate a few years ago, possible addresses of a couple family members, stuff like that.” Tweak turns from Ember to me. “And given how things went down, I’m guessing she’s doin’ her best not to be found by any of the Lords of Carnage, considering she almost got us all killed.”
“Yeah,” I grunt. “That’s no exaggeration. Tweak’s right, Jess isn’t gonna want to be found. She might not even be goin’ by her real name anymore.”
Ember blows out a frustrated breath. “Well. That’s not going to make things easier. Tweak, you said you do have some addresses of some family and people she used to live with, anyway. Could we get that info from you?”
“Sure thing.” Tweak reaches for a couple sheets of paper sitting on the desk to his right. He hands them to her. “I printed it out before you got here. That’s everything I’ve got.”
Ember takes the papers, briefly gives them a once-over. “Thank you. Could we — could I — contact you again if I end up with some other leads to pursue? Striker says you’re the best at this sort of stuff.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d actually think Tweak was gonna giggle or something.
“Sure thing,” he mumbles with a shy grin. “I’m happy to help.”
STRIKER: Lords of Carnage MC Page 10