Jase (Kings of Korruption MC Book 3)

by Geri Glenn

  Walking to the door, I peek out the window and see a large man in a suit standing on the front step. I twist the lock and pull open the door, holding it partially closed as I peek around it. “May I help you?”

  His voice is gruff and no-nonsense. “Are you Ellen McGrath?”

  “Yes.”

  He reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a white letter envelope and thrusts it in my direction. “You’ve been served,” he says before turning and walking down the steps to his car.

  What does that even mean? I look down at the envelope, but there’s no writing anywhere on it. Pushing the door closed, I turn the lock and walk back to the kitchen, tearing open the seal as I go.

  Inside are four sheets of stapled papers, filled with typed words. I unfold the small stack and my heart sinks. At the top of the first page is a coat of arms, accompanied by the words, Supreme Court of Canada.

  My head swims and my heart races as my eyes scan the paper, trying to make some sense of what I’m holding in my hands. I see my name and address in one column, and in the column beside it is Paul’s. I feel like I can’t breathe. Every breath I draw in weighs heavily on my chest as my shaking hands try to hold the paper still.

  I read it over three times before I allow myself to let out the anguished sob that’s been building. Paul’s gotten a lawyer. In my hands, I hold a signed court affidavit, preventing me from leaving the city of Ottawa with Bryce until the court date provided at the bottom of the page—two weeks.

  I throw down the papers and scrub my hands down my face, wiping away the tears as best I can. I need to get a handle on this. Paul has no grounds, and I’m a good mom. There’s not a judge in the province that would take away a little boy from a perfectly good mother, is there?

  The front door opens and in walks Bryce. “Hey, Mom.”

  I quickly stuff the documents back into the envelope and stow it away in the junk drawer. “Hey, Bud.” I can hear a slight quiver to my voice, but pray Bryce doesn’t catch it. “How was your day?”

  He walks into the kitchen and heads straight for the fridge. “Fine, I guess. I’m going outside to shoot some hoops with Jimmy.” He pulls out a yogurt drink and snags a granola bar from the cupboard before turning to me. His eyes narrow when as he studies me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I say, my voice high-pitched and phony sounding, even to my own ears. “Nothing’s wrong. Just finishing up the housework before starting supper. Go, have fun. Be a kid.”

  He doesn’t move. Bryce has always been a smart kid, and my act doesn’t fool him one bit. “You’ve been crying.”

  “Honey, I’m fine. Don’t worry about your old mom.”

  He stares at me another minute before nodding his head and walking out of the kitchen. I don’t want Bryce to know what’s going on, but I don’t see how at his age I can keep this from him. I need a plan. And more importantly, I need a lawyer.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Jase

  Charlie climbs off the back of my bike and hands me her helmet. “Thanks for the ride. Ellen should be out in a few minutes, but I don’t know if she’ll even go with you, you know.”

  “She’ll come,” I reply, wagging my eyebrows.

  “You’re terrible. Anyways, I’d wish you luck, but apparently you don’t think you need it.”

  “I’ll take whatever I can get. Have a good night, Charles.”

  She grins and shakes her head, turning to walk inside. I watch her go, wondering if I’m doing the right thing. Just as she reaches for the door, I call out, “Charlie?” She turns and waits. “What if she says no?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” she calls back.

  I feel like a teenager about to go on his first date, and apparently, I sound like one too. Wanting to claim back at least a little bit of my testosterone, I simply lift my middle finger and hold it out to her, smiling wide when she laughs and walks inside. Charles is cool as hell. Ryker is one lucky bastard.

  When the door closes behind her, I adjust my posture where I stand, leaning against my motorcycle, attempting to look cool and casual. I fold my arms and watch the door, then unfold them and watch it some more. Finally, I pull out my phone and play a game of Angry Birds, determined to kill some time and look more relaxed when Ellen finally walks out.

  And then she does, causing my heart to race. Jesus Christ. What the hell is wrong with me? I have never been so nervous to see or talk to a woman before in my life. What is it about Ellen that has me tied up in so many fucking knots?

  I shove the phone back in my pocket and stand straight. Ellen’s walking down the walkway, digging through her giant purse for something, and hasn’t even noticed me. Taking a deep breath, I decide to go for it.

  “El,” I call out.

  Her head whips up and the shock on her face when she sees me has me smiling. “Jase? What are you doing here?”

  I walk towards her. “Waiting for you to get off work. I just dropped Charlie off and she mentioned you would be leaving in a few minutes.”

  She goes to say something, but nothing comes out. She just stares up at me with wide, surprised eyes.

  “She also mentioned that you always take the bus. I was thinking I’d give you a ride home.” Her mouth closes and I see her throat move with the force of her swallow, but she still says nothing. Uncertainty fills me. Why isn’t she saying anything? “So let’s go.”

  I reach for her hand, but she pulls away. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you want to give me a ride? Why would you wait for me? I told you that I’m not interested.”

  I’ve had enough. “It’s a ride home, El. Don’t make it into something more.”

  She seems to think it over. “Fine. My back hurts, my feet are killing me, and I just want to get home. A ride with you sounds far better than an hour on a smelly city bus.”

  I wrinkle my nose and snort. “Flattery—I like it.”

  She looks at me questioningly before a giggle escapes her lips. “Sorry, Jase. I didn’t mean for that to sound so ungrateful. I would love a ride home, especially after the day I’ve had.”

  My heart leaps in my chest and I can’t contain my smile. “Well, all right then.” I wave my arm towards my ride. “Let’s get you home.”

  As she passes, I slide the heavy purse off her shoulder, ready to stow it in the saddlebag. “Damn, woman. What do have in this thing?”

  “I’m not a hoarder. I need everything inside that thing.”

  I hold up my hands in surrender. “Whoa, message received. I just hope my bike doesn’t lean to the side from the weight.”

  I duck a half-hearted swat from her as I hand her the same helmet that Charlie had used. I start up the motorcycle and let it idle while I tighten up her helmet straps. Her brown eyes stare into mine and my stomach tightens. The vulnerability I see there makes my hands shake.

  Clearing my throat, I finish with the strap and pat her on the head. “Lookin’ good, El.”

  She rolls her eyes and motions for me to get on the bike. Grinning like a fool, I turn and swing my leg over the seat. Her hands rest on my shoulders, and I feel her body wobble a little as she gets on behind me. I can tell she hasn’t done this much, if ever.

  Reaching back with both hands, I grab her just under the knees and drag her body tight against mine. Raising my voice to be heard over the growl of the motor, I look over my shoulder and shout, “Point the way.”

  She lifts her arm and points east. I look at her, my eyes on her lips. I’d give anything to kiss those fucking lips right now, but I’m not a contortionist, and I don’t exactly feel like being slapped today.

  With one final look into her eyes, I smile wide and put one foot up on the foot pegs and turn, heading east.

  Ellen

  I haven’t been on a motorcycle since I was a kid. My Uncle Mark had a Harley that he rode everywhere when the weather was nice, and there were many times he would take me with him. I’d always loved the feeling of freedom I felt when o
n the back of his bike.

  Being on Jase’s bike is different. I’m hardly aware of the ride itself. All I can focus on is the fact that my thighs are wrapped around his, and my entire body is pressed against his wide, muscular back. He smells like Irish Spring soap and laundry detergent, mixed with the surprisingly erotic scent of his leather cut.

  Instead of keeping my eyes on the road, I can’t take them off of the three tiny freckles on the back of his tanned neck. The urge to press my lips to that tiny trio makes my legs clench together. Praying he doesn’t notice, I lean in a little closer and bring my nose just above his neck. I feel his abs contract under my hands, and know that he can feel what I’m doing, but I can’t help it. His smell is intoxicating.

  When his hand lands on my knee, I jump, yanked from my lust-induced sniffing. I look up and find we’re approaching a red light, and it’s not one I recognize. Shit. Leaning forward, I call into his ear, “We missed the turn.”

  His head turns and he raises a brow, an amused smirk on his face. My face heats. “We need to go back to Needham and turn left.”

  The light turns green and Jase nods as the bike starts to move again. As he makes the necessary turns to get us back on course, I sit behind him, silently berating myself, and feeling like an idiot. Not only does he know I was smelling him, he also knows that I was so caught up in it, I let us go almost five minutes out of the way.

  Jase makes a left turn on Needham Street, which is only two blocks from my house. I point over his shoulder to show him where to pull off the road. He pulls up along the curb, right in front of my tiny bungalow.

  Still feeling like a fool, I climb off and start undoing the chinstrap on my helmet. “Thanks for the ride.”

  He turns off the motorcycle, and the sudden silence is deafening. “You’re welcome,” he replies. He removes his own helmet and climbs off the bike. What is he doing?

  “Relax, El. I’m just getting your bag.” He pulls my purse from the saddlebag and hands it to me, looking over my shoulder. “Nice house.”

  I turn around and look at my home. It’s not much, but it’s perfect for me and Bryce, and I’m proud of it. I worked my ass off to pay for it, and in a couple of years, it will be all mine, mortgage free. The tiny brick house sits nestled between its neighbors, separated by a six-foot privacy fence along the side and back yard. There are hanging baskets on opposite sides of the small front veranda, and the majority of the front yard is taken up by the garden that I love to putter in on my days off. It’s a nice, comfortable house.

  I look back at him and smile. “Thanks. It’s no mansion, but I’m proud of it. Being a nurse, it’s what I can afford.”

  “Don’t say it like that. Being a nurse is something you should be proud of. I watched you guys taking care of Smoke. I would never be able to do what you do.”

  My cheeks flush and I look down to the sidewalk, humbled by his words.

  “What made you want to be a nurse?”

  His question surprises me. It’s personal, and probably a lot deeper than he intended for it to be. “Well, I never really wanted to be one, to be honest.” I think back to when I was a little girl. I’d only ever wanted to do one thing with my life. “I always thought I’d end up becoming a doctor.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  I shrug and smile softly, thinking of Bryce, and how much I love him. “Life happened. I don’t regret it, really. I love my job. Hell, a nurse is more hands-on than a doctor. I ended up in the right place I think.”

  “But you still want to be a doctor,” he says. It’s not a question.

  All I can do is shrug once more.

  He moves into my space and my heart lurches before taking off on a mad race against the butterflies in my belly. He places a single finger under my chin, lifting my face so he can stare into my eyes. “You aren’t dead yet, El. Anything’s possible.”

  My mouth goes dry. Hearing his words of encouragement, something I’ve never heard from anyone before, makes my knees weak. His eyes lower until he’s staring at my lips. It takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to lick them. His head lowers, slowly, and I know what he’s about to do.

  The urge to flee overwhelms me. My breathing is out of control, and I want him to kiss me so bad, but I know it’s a terrible idea. A memory of the girl from the bar, slapping him across the face runs through my mind, and that pulls me out of my haze.

  Pulling back, I clear my throat and hoist my purse up on my shoulder. “Thanks again for the ride.”

  I don’t wait for a response. I run up the steps and unlock the door. I’m just about to push it open when I hear, “Same time tomorrow?”

  No! Why doesn’t he get that this isn’t going to happen? I look over my shoulder to see him standing by his bike, a smile on his face, and his helmet in his hand. He’s relentless. Shaking my head, I turn my away and walk inside.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Jase

  Ellen’s house is on the opposite end of the city from the clubhouse, and traffic is a bitch at this time of day. At this rate, it’s going to take me an hour just to get back to the garage. I’m sitting at yet another stoplight in a long line of commuters in their fancy cars, when I see one that doesn’t quite fit.

  A large black Escalade sits about three cars behind me. It wouldn’t even have caught my attention if it weren’t for the loud, thumping rap music, or the heavily tattooed arms hanging out of all four of its windows.

  Normally, these things wouldn’t bother me, but the flash of blue I see has me on alert. Lately, we’ve been cautious. The Crips are a local street gang, known for wearing blue. Up until recently, we’ve never had much to do with them, but it seems those days are over.

  Back when Ryker had met Charlie, she’d been mixed up with the Devil’s Rejects MC, and not in a good way. A bunch of shit had gone down, and in the end, they’d felt the need to dole out some sort of fucked up punishment on our club. They made an attempt to take out my buddy Tease and his old lady when they were out for a ride, nearly killing them both.

  After that, it was a full-on war with those sons of bitches. When we retaliated, they had been right in the middle of carrying out a deal with the Crips, and a bunch of the gang’s members had gotten killed in the process. They’d fought back, even managing to get off a few shots of their own. One of them had shot me that night, taking off the tip of my ear. To make matters worse, we’d taken care of the MC, but one of the Crips had gotten away, and we’ve been waiting for the fallback ever since. But so far, nothing’s happened. Some of the guys had mentioned seeing them around a lot lately, but this is the first time I’ve seen any of them since all that shit went down.

  When the light turns green, I continue down the road, less relaxed than I’d been a few minutes ago. Are these fuckers following me? Coming up to an intersection, I get into the left lane, ready to make a turn. I don’t need to go this way, but I wanna see if the Escalade turns with me.

  Sure enough, now with only one car between us, the Escalade is right on my tail. Fuck. I’m still about ten minutes away from the compound, and pretty soon, I’ll be in a less populated part of town. Not a place I need to be with a bunch of pissed-off Crips on my tail.

  Coming to a four-way stop, I make a U-turn, looking directly at them as I drive by. A small guy in the backseat lifts his hand and makes the hand gesture of pointing a gun at me. It’s a warning. I lift my middle finger and pull back on the throttle, knowing that I need to put some distance between us.

  I’m just turning back onto the main road when I see the Escalade make a U-turn as well. They’re coming. Driving faster than I should, I weave through traffic, intent on making it back to the compound. Surely these fuckers will disappear along the way.

  I don’t see them again for the rest of my ride back, and when I pull into the compound, I park my bike and jump off, ready to go straight to Gunner. Just as I’m walking across the lot, the Escalade comes up the road, slowing as it approaches. I see the passenger extend his arm, a real
gun gripped tight in his hand, pointed right at me.

  “Get down,” I scream, alerting the people in the vicinity. I fall to my belly, sure that this is the end, but I don’t take my eyes off the shooter. His eyes are cold and hard, his face twisted with hate. A single tear is tattooed under his right eye.

  It plays out like a slow motion movie, no detail going unnoticed. I watch his hand move and a shot rings out, right before the Escalade guns the engine and tears off down the road. I can’t move. Am I hit?

  People start pouring out of the garage and clubhouse, everyone yelling and wanting to know what the hell is going on. Reaper comes over and helps me off the ground. “He shot at me,” I say, feeling completely disconnected from my body.

  I watch as people start to crowd around the front of the compound. “They didn’t shoot you, Jase. For fuck’s sake, man. What is it with you and always thinking you’ve been shot?”

  “Fuck you, Reaper. That last time, I did get shot.”

  Reaper doesn’t argue. He just shakes his head and moves to the front of the compound to see what everyone’s looking at. “That’s what they shot,” he drawls, motioning to something up ahead.

  I crane my neck and finally see what everyone else sees. Right above the entrance to our main garage and place of business, is the Kings of Korruption logo, and right in the centre of the skull is a perfectly round hole. That fucker had perfect aim.

  Ellen

  “Why do we even have to be here?” Bryce pouts.

  Maybe I should just tell him, but how much? I had made this appointment for this evening, specifically because my neighbor, Linda, had said she could watch Bryce for me. But Linda had fallen down the stairs and twisted her ankle, resulting in a last-minute trip to the emergency room. So now I’m stuck with an appointment that I have to keep, and no way to shield my son from from the reason why.