by K. J. Dahlen
Checking the clock, she saw it was getting late. She grabbed her bag, then went back to the bathroom and quickly stripped her clothes off. Taking off the wig, she unbraided her natural hair and combed it out with her fingers. Her natural hair color was so pale it was almost silver and it flowed down her back almost to the floor. She had to hide it as the color and the length would have made her stick out of the norm. Not very many people knew what exactly she hid under all the wigs she wore and this suited Melora just fine.
Keeping her hair this long was a promise she’d made to her mother a very long time ago. She remembered being a child and her mother was brushing her hair. Carla had always told her long hair was a woman’s glory. Her own hair was almost down to her hips and whenever she brushed her daughter’s hair she often told her, she had her daddy’s coloring. Her pale blonde almost white hair and violet eyes belonged to the man who donated the sperm that created her.
Melora felt more than a little mad at the man who helped create her and then left town but Carla told her that’s just the way he was. He hadn’t been ready to be a father yet and she wouldn’t trade her for all the world. Melora knew her mother loved her and while she only had her for a little while, she never forgot her.
So, Melora never cut her hair as a tribute to the woman who gave her life. She hid her glory from the rest of the world but that was her secret.
When she stepped under the warm spray, she moaned. The heat from the water partially thawed the solid ice her body had become. As she soaped her body and hair, Melora rushed through the pleasure of her shower. As much as she wished she didn’t have to hurry, she knew the men arrived early for work and she couldn’t take the chance at being caught.
Fifteen minutes later, Melora was braiding her hair again and hiding it under her dark colored wig. Cleaning up behind herself, she finally shut the lights off behind her and made her way to the back window. She didn’t want anyone to know she’d been there as it would defeat the purpose of her hiding out.
Peeking out into the night, she saw there was no one around. Sliding the glass pane up, she slipped out and closed the window behind her. She felt better than she had an hour ago but she also knew Whiskey might be out there waiting for her.
She didn’t know how he kept finding her as her trail had been one of necessity rather than planned but every time she stopped along the way, he’d been almost right behind her. She’d changed her vehicle three times now, worked just enough to keep her from starving and lived out of her vehicle instead of finding an apartment.
She was almost to the point of giving up then she thought about what Whiskey would do to her if she did. Him and that damn wicked knife of his. There must be more to life than just living in fear.
Focused on making it back to the warehouse, she quietly made her way forward, then happened to glance back. Damn, her footprints were showing. There had been a light dusting of snow the day before. She couldn’t afford anyone finding her, so grabbing a tree limb she backtracked her own tracks and began sweeping the evidence away.
She barely made it back to the warehouse she’d been staying at when she heard the first bike coming closer. Dawn had barely broke but she could see the morning light brightening everything around her. Ducking in the building, she watched carefully as the biker stopped next door. As she watched him get off his bike and take off his helmet, she found herself staring at the older guy she saw the day before. For some dammed reason, she couldn’t take her eyes off him.
He stood as tall and big as she remembered. Today, he wore jeans and a green t-shirt under his jacket and cut. His dark hair was brushed away from his face and it looked fine as it was pulled back into a short ponytail again. She couldn’t help but wonder what his hair would look like hanging free. Would it curl around his neck and shoulders? Melora sighed deep as she stared at him. She wasn’t normally interested in older men but there was just something about this one that made her insides go gooey. She wished she were in a position to at least meet the man. She turned away and went back to where her things were. There was no sense in thinking like this. Meeting him would be a real bad idea. Bikers were what got her into this trouble in the first damn place. Putting the small bag on the floor, she laid down and tried to sleep.
~* * * *~
Sam searched the area around the shop. He felt the eyes watching him again and the feeling was beginning to creep him out. He walked around the perimeter of the building looking for any sign of an intruder. He couldn’t help it, something seemed off and he needed to find out what.
He didn’t find anything until he got back by the windows to the office. That’s when he noticed the whole area in the back of the shop had been brushed. Not only was a path brushed free of footprints the whole area had been cleared. He couldn’t tell in which direction this someone had come or gone from, but they had come through here. The marks in the fresh snow weren’t there by accident but by design. Someone was covering his tracks and now Sam knew someone had definitely been watching them. The only thing he didn’t know was why and who. This just pissed him the hell off.
Growling, he went back to the front door. Unlocking it, he swung the main door open and snapped on the lights.
Looking carefully for some sigh of an intruder, he didn’t see anything out of place. Then he got to the kitchen. At first, he didn’t see anything. The countertops were wiped down and the stove felt cool to the touch. Then he smelled it. The scent was very faint, almost gone in fact but he caught the scent of melted cheese and tomatoes.
Going to the garbage can, he found the empty pizza box. Knowing no one in the shop had baked a pizza in the last few days, the box in the trash didn’t make sense.
He quickly went to the office and checked the moneybox. Nothing seemed to be disturbed but this didn’t give him any comfort. In fact, it disturbed him a bit. If someone had broken in, surely they would have searched for the moneybox, wouldn’t they?
He heard the others in the main part of the shop and replaced the moneybox then joined them.
Iceman, Sabbath and Raine were there.
Sam didn’t want anyone else to know what he’d found, so he didn’t mention it. He needed time to get to the bottom of it first, before he said anything.
He saw Sabbath stare at him briefly but he shook his head. Sabbath might be wise to what he thought was going on but he didn’t want to put his feelings into words. He would just keep an eye out for potential problems.
Several times that day, the hairs on the back of Sam’s neck stood out but he couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. He’d searched the entire building several times and found nothing more. He even went to the top two floors but found nothing up there either. Not even a footprint in the dust.
Late that afternoon, Sabbath found him. “So what’s going on with you today Bones?”
Sam shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
“Did you find something the rest of us should be aware of?”
Again, Sam shrugged. He got up and went to the main door again. Looking out over the dooryard, he couldn’t find anything out of place yet again. He turned and stared at Sabbath. “When I got here this morning I took a walk around the building. The entire back had been purposely brushed clean.”
“What do you mean brushed clean?”
“I mean someone had taken the time to brush the entire back area clean of footprints of any kind, human or otherwise.” Sam shook his head. “Then I checked the shop and office. The money box hadn’t been touched and there was nothing in the shop either but when I went into the kitchen this morning, I found a pizza box in the trash.”
“And that bothered you?” Sabbath looked surprised.
Exhaling a deep breath, Sam replied, “No not really, anyone could have baked it but I thought I could smell it in the air yet. Why would I be able to smell pizza at six in the morning and the place had been locked up all night?”
“Damned if I know.” Sabbath looked around.
“Don’t say anything to the oth
ers just yet. I don’t want them to know until I can find out what’s going on. It may be nothing.”
“What are you going to do?”
Sam shrugged. “I’m not sure yet.”
Sabbath nodded. “Well, let me know if you need help to figure this out.
“Yeah.” Sam let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m not sure what I need at this point.”
Sabbath walked away and one by one, the guys left for the day.
Sam brought his bike inside and locked the main door as usual. Shutting off the lights, he settled in for the night.
Three different times during the night, he made his rounds. Walking around the shop and office with only a small flashlight he found nothing. When he settled down in the break room to catch a nap, he closed his eyes and fell into a light sleep.
It could have been five minutes or three hours later when something woke him. Sam’s eyes remained closed but his hearing picked up the slight sound from outside the room. It sounded like a soft sliding of a window being raised. Soundlessly, he got to his feet and went to the door. Slipping off his boots, he padded quietly down the hall pausing outside the office.
He could hear someone moving around inside as he pressed himself against the wall waiting for whoever was in the office to walk through the doorway. The footsteps came closer and Sam held his breath until he saw a shadow moving toward him. With no light in the building, the shadow passed very close to where he stood. As it passed him, Sam reached out and wrapped his arms around the slight figure in front of him.
Dropping down to the floor he heard a scream but it didn’t register this was a female until the small figure below him began to fight back. “Hold it lady, I don’t want to hurt you!” Sam spoke in her ear.
“Then get the bloody hell off me!” the woman shouted as she tried and failed to buck him off.
“Not yet sweetheart.” Sam held her down. “Tell me what you think you’re doing in here first.”
“Get fucked.” She squirmed in his hold. “I didn’t steal anything and I don’t have to tell you shit.”
“Wrong answer sweetheart.” Sam pressed her down on the floor.
“Let me go!” She fought back.
Sam was stronger than she was though. “Not a chance.” He got to his feet and pulled her up. Grasping her by the upper arms, he pushed her into the break room. He flipped on the light, then shoved her down into a chair. Breathing heavily, he looked her over carefully.
She was dressed in jeans and a winter jacket. She had some kind of small backpack looped around one shoulder. She was petite and her glittery eyes were wide in her face.
Cute was a word he might use to describe her, but she also look enraged. He studied her and felt his body harden. Oh, to hell with that. This chick could be here to do him or his men in. In his hard life, it wouldn’t be the first time someone sent a woman to do the job either.
~* * * *~
Melora glared at him. She recognized him as the older biker she’d been watching the last couple of days. Up close, he was even better looking than she noticed before, his hair brushed back from his face had come out of the ponytail he usually wore and flowed down to his shoulders. Its dark color was sprinkled with grey but it didn’t make him look old, it just gave him character.
His eyes were light blue and at the moment, drawn together in suspicion. His build looked bigger this close than she remembered. At least six foot four to her five foot two, he towered over her…and well built too. His muscles corded down his arms and she could see his chest was well defined. She could see part of a skull tattoo that went up his bicep. The t-shirt he wore barely covered his upper body. The material was stretched tight over his muscles. She licked her lips at the sight.
He moved away from the door and pulled out another chair to sit beside her.
Melora took the second he went to grab the chair to bolt toward the door.
Before she could get three steps away, he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her back to her chair. “You aren’t going anywhere little girl, until I get some answers.”
Melora glared at him. “I’m not your little girl and I already told you I don’t have to answer to you or anyone.” She crossed her legs and continued to glare at him. “Do your worst.”
He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “Honey, be careful of what you ask for, you might just get it.”
“I’m not afraid of you.” She sneered. “In fact, I could use a night in jail. At least it’s warm there.”
He frowned. “Where have you been staying that’s so cold?”
“None of your freakin business.”
“Why did you break in here?”
Melora turned her head away, so she wouldn’t have to answer his question.
“Have you been in here before tonight?” He yanked the bag from her shoulder and flopped it down on the table behind her. Moving closer to it, he unzipped the bag and taking his eyes off her, he peeked inside.
The bag held a towel and soap along with a microwave meal. He frowned and pulled everything out of the bag.
Melora glanced at him and found his attention on the items she’d brought with her. Eyeing the door, she calculated her chances and decided now was a good time. She bolted for the door again, this time, making it out through the door and down the hall before he caught her.
When his arm circled her waist, she screamed in frustration and grabbed the closest doorway to try to avoid being hauled back into the break room. It didn’t work but she tried.
When he got her back to her chair, he shoved her down into it. “Don’t you fuckin move! If you try and run again, I’ll tie your pretty little ass up,” he warned as he paced in front of her.
Melora glared at him. “Why don’t you just call the cops and get this over with?”
He rolled his eyes at her. “I don’t call the cops sugar. If I called anyone it would be my brothers and I don’t want to do that yet.” He pulled a chair out and sat down in front of her. “I want to know why you’ve been watching this place for the last few days.”
“Who says I have?”
“I do,” he assured her with a cold tone. “I’ve felt you watching us and I want to know why.”
Melora shrugged.
“Where have you been staying?”
She just stared at him.
“What is your name?”
Her stare never faltered nor did she blink.
His frustration was obvious. Running his fingers through his hair, he coldly whispered, “If I call the brothers in you will answer my questions. They aren’t as nice about this sort of thing as I have been.”
Melora snorted. “You don’t scare me Mr. Biker Man. I’ve been dealing with your sort of trash my whole life.”
He pulled his boots back on, then getting to his feet he unbuckled his belt.
Melora knew a moment of fear but it didn’t show on her face.
Grasping her arm, he pulled her to her feet. Swinging her around, he grabbed her wrists and wrapped the belt around them. With her hands secured behind her, he gripped her arm and backpack then hauled her to the front door. Shutting off the lights behind them, he led her out to a truck sitting in the yard. Pushing her inside, he locked the door behind her then got in the truck and started the engine. Pulling out to the main road, he drove in silence.
Melora tried to wiggle her hands free but all it did was tighten the belt until she couldn’t feel her hands anymore. When the truck stopped, she stared at the small house sitting off the dirt road. They’d driven out of the city but not too far. She could still see the city lights in the distance behind her. The house wasn’t very big but it looked nice. A cute small one story house, painted blue with grey trim. She could see a wraparound porch and a garage. Smoke rose from the chimney.
‘Mr. Silent Biker Trash’ came around the truck and helped her out. Leading her all the way to the front door, he dug in his pocket for his keys. Opening the door, he pushed her inside and turned on the lights.
> The open floor plan disclosed an area for the living room, dining room and small kitchen. Off to the left were three doors. The open door showed it was a bedroom with a huge king size bed in it. The second door was a bathroom and the third door was closed.
Still silent, he took off his jacket and grabbed her hands, unraveling the belt.
Melora moved away from him but didn’t go far. She turned to watch him. “What is this place? Who lives here?”
“I do,” he admitted. Moving over to the kitchen, he took down two glasses and reached for a bottle of whiskey on the counter. Pouring a generous amount in the glasses, he pushed one toward her and lifted the other to his lips.
Melora grabbed the glass and downed the liquor. It burned down her throat and warmed her belly. Slamming the glass down, she asked, “So now what?”
“Are you hungry?”
Pausing, she narrowed her eyes and stared at him for a moment then shrugged. “I could eat.”
Looking amused, he and went to the fridge. Taking out a dozen eggs, he went to the stove and a few minutes later, he took out two plates and scooped the scrambled eggs out of the pan and onto the plates. He picked up a couple forks, then ushered her to a table and set the plates down. Sitting on a chair, he began to eat.
Melora sat down and grabbed her fork. A moment later, she was shoving the food into her mouth. It might only be scrambled eggs but it was hot and filling.
While she ate, he set a glass of juice down beside her.
When her plate was clean, she took it over to the sink and rinsed it off. Sitting down again, she waited for him to make his next move.
When he stood up, he motioned for her to go toward the bedroom.
Dragging her feet, she stepped closer.
He pulled her away at the last minute. “Not my room, you’ll sleep here.” He opened the only closed door.