by Parker, Ali
But every time I thought about how he took that asshole down outside the shelter, I got goosebumps. And I couldn’t turn my back on that.
Not yet.
Chapter 9
Liam
I pulled into Owen’s driveway at nine thirty on Friday evening. I had half an hour to be at Genevieve’s house, and there was no way I would go there in my old pickup truck. I loved my baby, but it wasn’t the sort of thing you drove to escort a woman like Genevieve London.
It had old red leather seats, for crying out loud. And a stick shift right in the middle of the cab which would be right between the legs of whichever woman sat beside me.
That was a delicious thing to think about, but it still wasn’t doing me any favors right now.
So I drove to the MC member’s house who lived closest to me, got off my bike, and hurried up to his front door.
I rapped my knuckles on the door and waited. There was movement inside. Soft whispering. Then the door opened a few inches, and Owen peered down at me. “What the fuck, Liam?”
“I need to borrow your truck.”
Owen sighed and cast a glance over his shoulder back into the house. I leaned to the side, planning on waving innocently at Evangeline, but Owen pushed me back a step and stepped outside to close the door behind him.
“She’s not decent,” Owen grumbled.
He was wrapped up in a blanket and had no shirt on.
“Oh,” I said. Then I snickered. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Bite me.”
“So. The truck.” I hooked my thumb over my shoulder at his brand-new black pickup in the drive. “Can I borrow it?”
Owen dragged his hand down his face. “What?”
All right. My timing hadn’t been that great. I’d just been the world’s biggest cock block, and now I was asking to borrow his shiny new baby.
“It’s for a good reason,” I told him hopefully.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. A girl. Well, two girls, actually.”
“Liam,” he groaned.
“Wait! Hear me out. So I ran into this girl on Tuesday, and she offered me a job as her security detail. She’s perfect, man. Like, this is the kind of girl you don’t see walking down the street. Ever. And I have a shot with her. But she wants me to take her and her friend to Kadia tonight and be their escort. You know my truck. I can’t show up in that and have her take me seriously.”
Owen looked me up and down. “You expect her to take you seriously?”
I winced. “All right. Point taken. Just… do me a solid? I’ll have it back by morning. I swear.”
“Uh huh.”
“I swear!”
Owen rubbed at his eyes before exhaling a deep breath. “Fine. You can take it.”
“Yes!” I threw my fist in the air in victory.
Owen held up his index finger. “However, there are rules.”
“Don’t scratch it. Yeah. I know.”
“And if one of those girls pukes in my fucking truck—”
“I’ll clean it before I bring it back. Yeah. I got it, Owen. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. Now I’m on a bit of a time crunch here, so if you wouldn’t mind grabbing me the keys?” I grinned, showing him all my teeth.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “If they throw up in my truck, you buy me a new one.”
I barked out a laugh. Owen didn’t laugh. He didn’t even blink.
I swallowed. “Okay. No throwing up in the truck.”
The older MC member shook his head for the duration of him opening the door, grabbing his keys from the hook on the wall, and dropping them into my open palm. “Have fun, Liam. Just don’t be stupid. Okay?”
“Me? Stupid? Never.”
Owen waved me off and retreated back inside, where I could hear Evangeline calling for him.
Maybe that was why he’d given me the keys in the first place. He knew what it was like to shoot for a girl way out of your league.
And get her.
Keeping that in mind, I jogged out to the drive, got in his truck, and put the keys in the ignition. I picked the right playlist on his blue-tooth system that I hoped the women would like and headed off to Genevieve’s house, praying like Hell I hadn’t sprayed myself with my cologne one too many times.
I’d been told on numerous occasions less was more.
Genevieve London lived in a hotel.
All right, that was an exaggeration, but from the outside, it sure as hell looked like one.
The house was white and one story with a terracotta roof that made it look like it belonged in Los Angeles, not New York. The windows were trimmed in white, and the gardens down below overflowed with colorful blossoms of dozens of varieties.
When I got out of the truck, crickets were chirping. The roundabout driveway was lined with soft lighting that lent the place a sense of elegance that matched that of its owner.
The front doors were frosted glass and etched with a vine-like pattern. I rang the doorbell, squared my shoulders, and hoped my black pants and black leather jacket would give off the right impression. I had no idea what I was doing, and that had been the best I could come up with on such short notice.
At least I had a jacket without any Lost Breed emblems on it. That would have been awkward.
Hey, Genevieve. It’s me, your Lost Breed security detail. I’m a nice biker. I swear.
It wasn’t Genevieve who wrenched the door open and grinned at me like she was going to eat me whole.
It was a young woman with very short blonde hair, giant gold hoop earrings, and glossy pink lips. She draped herself against the side of the door, crossed her arms under her breasts—which were already on display in her low-cut dress so now it was infinitely more difficult for me to keep my gaze trained on her eyes—and she looked me up and down.
“You must be Liam.”
“I am.”
“I’m Marley,” she said, holding out her hand to shake.
I shook it. “Nice to meet you. Let me guess. You’re the other lady I’m escorting tonight?”
She winked. “You know it, sugar. Come on in. Genevieve isn’t quite ready yet.”
I followed her into the house.
It took my breath away. I’d never stood in such a magnificent place before. The soft gray floors complemented the smooth, bright color scheme throughout.
I was in the middle of admiring the living room when Genevieve emerged from a hallway.
Like her home, she was done up in all white. It must have been her signature look.
The dress she had on was strapless, showing off her slender shoulders and sexy décolletage, which shimmered with every move she made. Her wrists jingled with gold jewelry that matched the chandelier earrings she wore that grazed the top of her shoulders. The dress was skintight, hugging her curves all the way down to the middle of her thighs.
“Good to see you again, Liam,” she purred.
“You too.” I nodded, grateful I’d been able to make my tongue formulate words. My brain was still trudging through the shock of seeing her looking so ravishing.
Even if there was puke in Owen’s truck at the end of the night and I had to buy him a new one, it would be well worth it.
Marley ran a hand over my shoulder. “Are you going to keep us safe tonight?”
“Uh,” I stammered.
“Marley, don’t toy with him,” Genevieve scolded.
It suddenly felt like I was in the middle of a porno, and I had a feeling Marley was fucking with me just for kicks. I shot a glance her way, and her sheepish smile told me I was right.
So I stepped into my role as security detail. “Are you ladies ready?”
They both nodded, so I stepped back and opened the front door for them. They passed through, and Genevieve paused to lay a light touch on my wrist. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. We appreciate it. I need a night out to let my hair down and have some fun.”
I bowed my head. “You deserve it.”
I did
n’t know if that was true because I didn’t know her. But it felt like the right thing to say.
I saw them to the truck, opened the back door, and offered them my hand so they could climb into the back seat.
“Nice ride,” Marley said, running her hands over the black leather seat.
“Thanks,” I said as I slid into the driver’s seat. There was no sense in telling them it wasn’t mine, so I didn’t. “Kadia, here we come.”
I had barely pulled away from the house when Marley cried for me to crank the tunes. Apparently, the song on the playlist was her favorite, and she wasn’t satisfied until the speakers were literally jumping on either side of the doors with the bass.
I stole a couple of glances in the rearview mirror as I drove downtown.
Genevieve was singing along to the song, her lips curled up in a smile as she watched Marley rock out in the seat beside her. The two women played off each other, switching back and forth to sing certain chords, and when the chorus came in, they both belted it out.
Had the volume been any lower, I’d have been able to hear how terrible they both were.
I did my best to focus on getting us to the club. Stealing glances at my boss every two minutes wasn’t professional.
By the time we got to the club, I was high on their energy. I got them out of the back seat, and each of them hooked an arm through either one of mine.
Genevieve nodded at the entrance to the club. “I’m VIP.”
“Of course you are.” I grinned, walking forward purposefully with two of the most beautiful women in the world on either side of me.
This was the life.
The bouncer saw Genevieve and opened the red-velvet rope blocking us from the front door without asking for any identification or payment. We strolled right through, and Genevieve shot me a cocky look. “Being me has its perks.”
I could only imagine.
We moved to the door, plunged inside, and found ourselves surrounded by warm air, the steady beat of the music, and sweaty bodies.
“Come on,” I said, leading them through the crowd. “Let’s get you to your VIP table.”
Chapter 10
Genevieve
“What’s this?” Marley asked when Liam came back to our table with a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket.
He clasped his hands in front of himself, assuming the standard security guard position I’d seen in every movie ever, and nodded at the bucket he’d just set down on the table. “I have a couple of connections here. Champagne on the house.”
Marley’s eyebrows inched upward, and she looked from him to me with an approving smile. “Connections? I like the sound of that. Don’t you, Genie?”
Every minute spent with Liam left me with more questions. “Do you spend a lot of time here?” I asked.
Liam shook his head once. “Not too much time, if that’s what you’re asking. I just know a guy. He’s security, too.”
“Right.” I smiled, reaching for the bottle and the two glasses he’d set off to the side.
“May I?” Liam offered.
I draped myself back over my seat and nodded for him to carry on.
Marley and I watched as he smoothly popped the top off the champagne and poured us each a glass. He passed us the bubbly, and when I suggested he go get a glass so he could partake with us, he politely declined.
“I’m still trying to impress,” he said, adjusting his black leather jacket.
Of course, he was. This was his first day on the job, technically.
Speaking of which, we hadn’t negotiated any terms yet. Like his rate of pay. Or when he’d get paid, for that matter.
Kadia wasn’t the place for such a conversation. I’d have to wait for a better time to sit down with him and map out the specific details of him being in my employment.
I felt so professional. I had someone in my employ. My first ever employee. So far, he was setting the bar exceptionally high with his level of professionalism and, well, how good he looked in the dark mysterious lighting of Kadia.
Marley slapped my hand. “More champagne for us, right?”
“Right.” I smiled, sipping from the edge of my glass while holding Liam’s gaze.
He was a looker all right. The sort of guy I was sure had done a number on more than a dozen naive girls like me. Girls who dreamed of princes coming to save them and whisk them away to a dream world where he was at their every beck and call, waiting, always waiting.
And I guessed Liam was waiting on me, too. He was my prince.
I shook my head. What a stupid thought. I wasn’t one of those prissy girls. Not anymore.
When I was a girl, I’d dreamed those dreams. Then my parents died, and life became a nightmare, a place where fairy tales and heroic princes did not exist. I’d forgotten all about the musings of a child and had become a strong woman. I wasn’t going to lose her now just because a cute guy made me feel some kind of way.
But damn. It was definitely some kind of way.
Weak knees, trembling fingers, tingling lips, hot cheeks, hot other things kind of way.
Marley downed the rest of her champagne and popped up to her feet. “I have to pee.”
I stared up at her. “Oh,” I said when I remembered the girl code. I had to go with her. I stood up and smoothed out the skirt of my dress. “Liam, we’ll be right back.”
“I can come stand outside the door.”
I giggled. “Don’t worry. We’ll be all right. Why don’t you go get yourself a drink or something? Come find us on the dance floor later.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Dance floor?”
“Mhm.” I nodded as we grazed past him. Marley took my hand and led me down the stairs to the main level, where we swerved through bodies and dancers to make our way to the far side of the club where the women’s washroom was.
We made our way down a narrow hallway and away from the pounding music to slip through the door into the washroom, where we were assaulted with the high-pitched chatter of drunken girls.
The bathroom was as all club bathrooms were at this time of the evening.
Messy.
While some girls were locked in their stalls, their friends leaned against the door to tell them the latest gossip they’d missed out on over the course of the night. Some stalls had two or three girls in them. You could see their shoes under the door as they moved in a well-rehearsed cycle so that each of them had their chance on the toilet.
At the far end, in the full-sized stall, was a girl sobbing her heart out. The door was open, and one of her friends was down on the floor with her, plying her with water while the other retrieved paper towels to wipe the vomit from the front of her dress.
Yep. Pretty standard.
“Good luck,” I said to Marley as she ducked into a stall.
While I waited, I turned toward the wall of mirrors above the sinks. The whole counter was wet, so I didn’t put my clutch down after I fished my lip stain out of it. I tucked it between my thighs and held it in place as I lined my lips and filled them in before rubbing them gently together to evenly disperse the color.
Marley called my name from the stall.
“What?” I yelled back.
“Liam is hot!”
I smiled and shook my head as I put my lip color back in my clutch. “I know he is. Stop ogling him.”
“I can’t help it. The boy is the devil incarnate. Those eyes. That body.” She pushed open the stall door, fanning her face. “He’s swoon-worthy.”
“Tell me about it,” I said.
“Who’s Liam?” Another girl emerged from a stall, hiccupping. She had a wild head of curly dark hair and a face of makeup that had probably looked a lot more polished about an hour ago. Before she got too drunk to walk in a straight line. She staggered like a giraffe on wobbly legs over to the counter and braced herself between me and Marley. “Who’s Liam?”
“He’s a guy I just hired,” I said, hoping this was as far as the conversation needed to go.
“He’s sexy,” Marley supplied.
I rolled my eyes. “Marley, stop it.”
“And dreamy,” she added with a wink.
The drunk girl gave me a goofy, droopy-eyed smile. “Is he?”
“Well, yes, but—”
The drunken stranger grabbed me by the arms and shook me hard. “You need to take him home and fuck him tonight.”
“Uh.” I blinked at her.
“Seriously,” she continued. “Trap his ass.”
“What?” I asked.
“Trap. His. Ass.” Every word was accentuated.
It still didn’t help me understand. I pried her fingers from my upper arms and offered her a polite smile. “Thank you. I’ll think about it.”
As drunk-giraffe girl staggered out of the bathroom, Marley and I exchanged an amused look. Then she washed her hands, fixed her face, and marched out of the bathroom to rejoin the crowds of the club.
The music broke over me in a wave, chasing away all my worries. The alcohol was finally hitting me, and I felt pretty damn good. My lips were starting to feel a little numb, which was a sign I should have some water and start pacing myself. So I went to the bar, ordered Marley and I both a glass of water, and made her drink hers with me. Then I got a single tall vodka-cran to maintain my buzz but not push myself over the top.
I had no interest in getting sloppy drunk. I hated not being in control.
Marley and I both had our lips pursed around our straws when two young men approached us at the bar.
The first, a tall, Ken Doll-looking guy with a bit of a receding hairline looked me up and down. “Damn, baby. I had to come over here and tell you how fine you look in that white dress.”
Where some men learned their pickup lines, I had no idea.
I didn’t say a word.
The second guy, a shorter, boxier, edgier-looking jock, nodded at Marley. “I dig chicks with short hair.”
“Dig?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “You ‘dig’ it? Really? How old are you?”
The men exchanged a look.
I offered them a smile. “Sorry. We’re not interested. We’re here to have a guy-free night, actually. I hope you understand.”