Outlaw MC Bear

by Bella Love-Wins

  Silas pulled out his phone at the red light, making sure no new info from his MC had streamed in while he was in-route. Nada. Whether that made him less antsy or more paranoid was up in the air. Still, no news was good news.

  He gave himself a mental pat on the back for being on time even after that little van attack, and with a sharp right that had the back wheel struggling to grip pavement, he turned into the parking garage of the condo complex. He picked a spot near the elevator on the fourth floor of the structure and did a quick double-check of his pockets. Money, phone, keys, and a tiny slip of paper with the coded location of several wooden boxes of AK-47s. He cracked his knuckles, walked across the small catwalk separating the parking garage from the condo, and took the elevator down to the main floor before striding into the swank as fuck lobby. Maybe if he sold enough guns, one day he could be swinging around his money bags at a place this posh.

  “Excuse me. Can I help you, sir?” The little man at the front desk smirked. He was standing next to the bell that guests always rung in movies, and quickly gave Silas a one-two punch with his stare. It was the kind of snobby expression that told Silas he stuck out like a sore thumb in a place like this, the type of condescending look that said exactly what he was thinking without using crude words. Silas hated the man instantly.

  “I’m here to see Mr. Giovanni,” Silas barked back, for no reason other than to confirm the bellman’s suspicion that yes, he was a low-brow dangerous motherfucker.

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware Mr. Giovanni was expecting visitors tonight.” The man smoothed a hand down his suit before clicking a few buttons on the laptop in front of him. “Indeed, I don’t see anyone else on the approved visitors list for the day, sir.”

  The preppy asshole stared at Silas as though he considered the matter over and done with.

  Fat fucking chance.

  “Get him on the phone. Tell him there’s a Mr. Corrigan here to see him. He’s expecting me, and it’s important.”

  The man’s watery brown eyes narrowed, his rat nose twitching as if he smelled something funny. “As you wish, sir.”

  “Good. Thank you…Godfrey,” Silas poured it on thick as he read the clerk’s name slowly from his nametag.

  The self-important man got the picture and grimaced in return. He picked up the phone and turned his back as if pretending to examine something on the wall behind him. Silas jumped on the opportunity. This guy might have been an asshole, but he was also a gatekeeper. That meant Silas needed him. Should anything shady happen in future, this scrawny-necked jackass would be useful to give him a headsup. Luckily, Silas always came to meetings prepared. He dug in the inner pocket of his cut for one of the hefty wads of folded bills he brought along. When Godfrey turned around to look at him again, Silas cocked one eyebrow and slid the stack across the marble countertop.

  “Something for your time?”

  Godfrey went goo-goo eyed and pale, nodding a bunch of times from the sight of all that money. There was no way to hear what was being said on the other end of the phone, but he wrapped up that call in a hot second to give Silas his full attention now. He probably didn’t make that kind of cash in six months. His hand slipped over the bills, and he jerked them off of the counter, depositing them into his vest pocket.

  “Thank you…it’s my pleasure to help…anytime at all. Would you like me to see you up to the suite, sir?”

  “Nope, I’ll be fine.”

  “As you wish, sir. If you need anything, I’ll be right here. Don’t hesitate to ring the bell for assistance if I’m not here.”

  “Count on it, Alfred.”

  The man winced from Silas’s intentional name slip, but made an effort to nod before he scurried out from behind the desk and disappeared into a back room. Probably to put that cash under lock and key.

  Silas whistled and hustled his way over to the shiny gold elevators. They were fast too, because in what seemed like a quarter of a second later he was looking out at the landing of Mr. Giovanni’s condo, which appeared to take up the entire twenty-seventh floor. Or maybe it was a private elevator to one section. The point was the place was massive, with two beefy bodyguard types standing at a doorway nearby. Typical, and not unexpected for a man this important. One held the front door open, ready for Silas to walk in. They both nodded a greeting and Silas followed the guy into a sitting room.

  There he was.

  Success, leadership and business savvy in a suit. He looked it too, even for his young age, with an authoritative chin, distinctive sideburns framing a dark head of hair, and icy gray eyes that looked like they could read through bullshit. His future client was seated on the expensive burgundy and gold fabric sofa that looked like it stepped right out of a Baroque period vampire movie. The stately man didn’t look up from his book when the bodyguard announced Silas, so he waited, widening his stance in the middle of the room, digging his hands into the front pocket of his cut, ready for anything.

  “Thank you for coming, Mr. Corrigan,” Mr. Giovanni finally announced. He placed a bookmark between the well-worn pages, glancing up for the first time. “I know this was a hurried affair, so I apologize for the imposition. We do appreciate your business.”

  “Sure.” Silas held his stance, waiting to be invited to take a seat. “It’s no problem. You came highly recommended by our mutual friend.”

  “Ah, yes. The padrino had quite a lot to say about you.”

  Silas wasn’t about to take that kind of easy bait. The padrino to the Italian mafia was the top guy in the region around St. George, Utah, Las Vegas, and everywhere in between along the I-15. He was the best sales connection for Silas and the Brotherhood, but even a referral like that didn’t put Giovanni on the safe list. Not yet. All it did was get him in the door. They were all still in a probationary period, to feel each other out, build some trust and credibility. Silas kept alert, fingering the piece of notebook paper in his pocket, and pretending to be bored. He owed the guy common courtesy, but that was about it. For now, he kept his lips zipped shut and let Giovanni lead the way through what was supposed to be a five-minute discussion.

  “You’re the strong silent type, aren’t you?”

  “I came to meet you for one thing, Mr. Giovanni.”

  “Oh, so right down to business, then.” The man ran his arms across his slacks and then he straightened the front of his freshly pressed blue button-down shirt. “I can respect that. Sunny? Get the case, please.”

  Silas was thrown off at the man’s politeness, but kept his facial expression blank.

  “Here you are, boss.” One of the goons brought a suitcase full of money into the room. Silas’s ears started to ring with anticipation. Here was where things got a little tricky—and always a little bit hazy. When Mr. Giovanni motioned him forward, Silas took three smooth steps toward the ornate coffee table that matched the sofa. He bent forward and sprang open the lid on the suitcase. An educated riffle through the contents proved that all the cash was there.

  Golden.

  He straightened up again, meeting Mr. Giovanni’s gaze head on, and they stared at each other for what seemed like a long ass time.

  That’s when shit went sideways.

  Someone’s big, beefy hand circled around Silas’s throat, and threw him up against a wall so fast Silas couldn’t catch his breath fast enough to tell whoever it was he was a dead motherfucker.

  3

  Sabrina

  Sabrina Rizzo drew in one last frustrated breath, struggling with her necklace clasp again. Diamonds were a girl’s best friend, but the chains they came on—

  “Priceless,” she muttered sarcastically, throwing the chain down on her vanity and replacing it with a simpler white gold necklace with a diamond infinity loop pendant—and a much easier clasp.

  At this rate, she’d show up to the gala with one earring, one shoe, a disheveled up-do and cramped fingers, and she’d still be late. She was about ready to throw her hands up in supplication to the social gods when there was a lou
d, abrupt bang against her vanity wall. The necklace slipped between her fingers and slithered to the floor as she jumped backward with a small gasp. A glass bottle of perfume tipped over, leaking floral fumes all over her counter. Sabrina was on alert now, already one step back, eyes wide.

  Another loud thump.

  This time with a muttered swear and a litany of arguing.

  What in God’s name was going on next door?

  More banging.

  A harsh order.

  The sound of something shattering.

  With the sharp tang of the fragrance stifling her nose, she jerked back into action, leaning forward to grasp the bottle and stand it up again. Her stomach twisted in knots and her shaky hand fumbled. The sweet pool of slowly evaporating liquid was growing larger by the second. Soon it would cascade over her sterling silver tray and onto the carpet. It was the distracting thought that tingled across her scalp to help her avoid the fearful question of what was going on in a room nearby. That distraction didn’t work, though. All it did was make a bigger mess of the spill. Panic caused the back of her mouth to taste sour now, and she struggled not to break out in nervous hives. She managed to mindlessly grasp the towel she’d just used after her shower, and swabbed up the perfumed mess.

  Each second her fingers plunged into the damp towel, she pretended she wasn’t leaning forward to get closer to that wall between her and the ruckus next door. At least until her ear was pressed up against it, one hand thrown back in the mess.

  “…I had it on good authority I wouldn’t be dealing with anything fucked up and underhanded tonight. I must have been wrong—”

  “Funny, I don’t remember anyone making that promise. The thing I do remember…”

  “Watch yourself, fucker.”

  “I’m making things crystal clear, and this is the best way I know how…”

  There was an extended block of muffled conversation, then Sabrina pressed her ear so hard against the wall she thought her eardrum would pop from the suction. It worked. She could hear almost every word.

  “I merely need assurances that you will deliver.”

  “I just gave you the location of the goods.”

  “I need to see them…the same way you saw the cash in that briefcase. It’s a little insurance so you don’t make off with my money. Surely you agree that’s reasonable?”

  “Depends on how you define the word reasonable,” the other man choked out. “Can I get a little breathing room before your goon goes down and never wakes up again?”

  There was a sharp snap, and Sabrina flinched back from the wall. She didn’t dare breathe.

  “Let me call my boys. I’ll have them swing by to pick up…”

  Her brow pinched as the voices faded too much to hear again. It was maddening, only getting half of the conversation, but she mentally kicked herself for even making it her business in the first place. Whatever was going down next door, she needed to ignore it. This was the type of thing her law firm associates would advise clients to stay away from. The three monkeys applied here, especially the hear no evil part. What mattered tonight was getting herself ready for the gala and out the door.

  For some unknown reason, she remained glued to the spot on the wall, listening. She couldn’t ignore it. Something nefarious was going on over there, and maybe she might hear something that could come in handy. With a short sigh, she released her hold on the towel and pressed her ear harder on the lavender wall of her bedroom.

  Nothing.

  There was not another sound on the other side of that damn wall.

  Goosebumps prickled all across her exposed arms and legs, and she realized she was breathing deafening gasps in and out of her mouth. With a wince, she clapped a hand over her red lipstick covered lips.

  They started up again, to which she breathed a small sigh of relief.

  “There. Look at the tiny screen. See the tiny people? Those are my guys at the warehouse. See the street sign? We weren’t lying about the location.”

  “What the fuck…”

  “You know, this really isn’t a great way to start off a new partnership.”

  “Really? I see it as…illuminating…”

  There was some more muttering she couldn’t make out.

  “Satisfied?”

  “If you want to call it that, we can. But you’ll be hearing from me if the weapons aren’t as exactly as you promised.”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less, champ.”

  Another beat of silence.

  Sabrina could hardly contain her giggle at the man’s moxie. Did men even have moxie? A swirl of new questions overloaded her already filled up brain when she heard someone open a door. She jumped away from the wall as if she’d been burned. With her arms around her midsection, she replayed the bits and pieces, trying to put all her secret information in its proper place.

  Money. Weapons. Warehouse.

  Her eyes closed and she took a seat on the padded stool in front of her vanity.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me…” she mumbled to herself.

  Each minute that ticked by she did her best to remember to breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth. Yet nothing—and everything—made perfect sense. Someone was doing an arms deal on the other side of that wall.

  No. No, she was not getting involved in this mess. She shook her head over and over to reiterate that fact. There was nothing she could do, not even if she called her father. She vaguely knew how these deals worked, and the man who took up residence on the other side of that wall was confident that nothing would get in his way. With a decided nod, she swept up the towel and threw it in the laundry hamper. Snatching up her other shoe, she slipped her foot in, and found her clutch. It was time to go about her day-to-day and forget what she’d heard. Picking up the fallen necklace, she slid it into her clutch, and grabbed her wrap off the back of the chair.

  Though the conversation still rang in the back of her mind, she was determined to act like it never happened. Deniability was the best policy when so much was already at stake. She’d been dragged down by too much in her life. There was no way she was going to flick the next domino of another undesirable chain of events and screw up her life even more. After she grabbed her car keys and shut the front door, she kept her stare trained on the carpet as she locked up. It was a chore to walk nonchalantly down the hallway while also maintaining a speed that got her the hell out of there.

  Halfway down the corridor, her heel caught on the carpet. She avoided a full stumble against the wallpapered wall, grateful that her keys quietly hit the plush floor. A small frustrated noise climbed up her throat. When she scooped them up, a door opened down the hallway. She didn’t dare look backward. The man next door who she already despised didn’t have a good reputation, and she really didn’t want to get mixed up in any more of his shady dealings by accident.

  She’d watched a documentary about murderers once, where the interviewed convict advised viewers that if they ever witnessed a crime, they should wipe the image of the perpetrator’s face out of their minds.

  Seemed like damn sound advice. Except how could she ignore the face of the man she was promised to?

  “Shit.” Sabrina felt a random itch running down her leg from a spot at the back of her left hip. She reached down toward her backside without looking, then she thought better of scratching it. Her pantyhose must have ripped, and she sure as hell wasn’t going back to change it.

  What seemed like an hour later she was repeatedly pressing the elevator’s down button with a manicured finger. Each little ding as the elevator car reached another floor was way too slow compared to her heartbeat. Jesus, were those men coming closer? Afraid to look backward, she whirled around to take the stairs instead. That was when she collided with a solid, broad, well-developed, muscle-shirt-wearing chest.

  Her pink manicured fingers spread across the dizzying expanse of the man’s black t-shirt. She might as well have been feeling him up. “Oh, Christ! I’m sorry…I apologi
ze…I didn’t mean—” she sputtered, backing away.

  He caught her wrist to steady her as the world started to swirl with bright sparks of light ahead of her eyes. “Whoa, it’s okay… take it easy.”

  His fingers burned into her forearm where he held her with a solid grip, but not too tightly, because she felt like her body was swaying a few inches in one direction, then again in the other direction. She looked up at the man, way up past the expanse of black muscle shirt, and craned her neck to take in gorgeous cerulean blue eyes, a slight cupid-bow mouth, and thick eyebrows, which at the moment nearly reached up to the hairline of his full head of black gelled-back hair.

  “Uh,” she breathed under her breath, holding back the hissing sound she really wanted to make after seeing this sexy God of a man.

  “Are you okay, miss?”

  His concern seemed genuine. She struggled to shake off whatever dizziness was clouding her vision from looking up too fast into the stunningly handsome stranger’s face.

  Wait. Is he that tall? So tall I’m getting dizzy?

  Or am I just really dizzy right now?

  Her wobbly gaze tripped back over him.

  “Hey, focus. Do you need a doctor, honey?”

  Sabrina gritted her teeth against the endearment. She somehow summoned the strength to pull out of his hold, while every molecule in her body was screaming for her to latch her nails onto his chest. With a mental shake, she took two quivering steps backward until her back was pressed up against the wall beside the elevator.

  “I’m fine, thanks. Really.”

  The elevator dinged, and she wanted to kiss the mechanical wonder for its on point timing.

  “Okay. If you say so.” The gorgeous man’s lips quirked, but he kept his smile at bay as he motioned for her to get into the elevator. “After you.”