Exposed: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance (Fury Riders MC)

by Sophia Gray

  Jagger rolled to a stop in front of Jacob’s house. He was the one that got away, alerted to the investigation due to his argument with Abby on the front lawn. This time, Jagger parked a few houses away and began walking quickly through the line of bushes on the neighbors’ property, keeping his body close to the ground.

  He stayed down, crossing as quickly as he could across the lawn without disturbing the dirt too much. Jagger finally reached the old fucker’s house, flattening himself against the outer brick wall and inching along until he got to a window with sound coming out of it.

  It was the evening news. By some coincidence, the news anchor was talking about the arsons. “So far, thirteen different events have been linked. The police say there are real leads developing in the investigation and cannot share the latest information with the press at this time.”

  Jagger heard the old man chuckle a little.

  He briefly considered jumping into the house and cracking his fists over the old man’s head, pinning him down to the ground until Jagger could call the cops. But he held himself back. For one thing, he didn’t know if the man was armed. It wasn’t safe to jump in alone, without any real protection. As much as Jagger hated himself right now, he didn’t want to get fucking killed. More importantly, he didn’t have enough evidence to justify an arrest yet. The cops wouldn’t consider his report of the old guy listening to one news broadcast strong enough to hold up in court. Jacob used to be a member of the MC, after all. He could just be concerned about us, Jagger thought, but he didn’t really believe that to be true. This was the guy. It had to be.

  “I’m gonna catch you, fucker,” he mumbled under his breath. “I’m gonna make you pay for what you did to Abby.” In the back of his mind, an inner voice said, But, you hurt Abby, too. You made her feel unsafe. You made her feel weak. Jagger quickly crawled back over the lawn, breaking into a run when he hit the concrete of the street. When he got back on his bike a minute later, gliding down the road, he let his head hang low between his shoulders, allowing pain to seep into his back. It was what he deserved. It was what he wanted. To atone for his sins.

  # # #

  Abby

  The next afternoon, when Abby’s doctor gave her the all-clear to “go home,” wherever that was, she stumbled on the way out of the room on a piece of paper shoved under the door. Abby bent over to pick it up, and a smile spread across her face as soon as she saw the name scribbled on the front.

  FROM: LUCY.

  Abby quickly opened the makeshift envelope, unfolding the paper to reveal ten $20 bills. “Jesus Christ,” Abby murmured, counting the bills and recounting them to be sure that she hadn’t miscalculated. “Jesus Christ, that woman is amazing.” She quickly pocketed the bills, keeping half in her pocket and half in her wallet. It’d be enough for a motel room, to be sure, but Abby wanted to save some of the cash for food before she got her next paycheck.

  She walked, over three and a half miles in the winter cold, toward the cheaper section of town. It was far away from the compound, too, which was a plus, at least for now while Abby tried to get her shit together. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by anyone, especially Jagger.

  Abby found a cheap motel room that allowed her to hold onto more than half of Lucy’s money, and she used random coins she found at the bottom of her purse to get crackers and a Coke for dinner. It was about all her stomach could handle at this point, anyway, and she just had to make it to her paycheck at the end of this coming week and then she’d be able to eat again, maybe even find another cheap apartment near work. She stretched her arms up and down as she settled onto the bed, shoving crackers into her mouth as if they were the Holy Communion. Her ankles and elbows popped a little painfully, but she forced herself to smile at her own reflection in the mirror across from the bed. “Things are looking up, pup,” she told herself, continuing to fake a smile. She read somewhere that smiling triggered endorphins even if you’re sad. It worked, a little bit at least, helping her to relax. Abby leaned back on the bed, fluffing up the pillows and hugging them tightly to her body. “It’s going to be okay,” she said to herself, rolling over to her side to spoon the pillow as if it were a person. “It’s going to be okay.”

  In the back of her mind, however, something was nagging at her. She felt something… creepy, like there was something stuck on her back, watching her every move. She flipped around to face the main window, which had the curtains drawn. But still, she could see that there was nobody out there trying to look at her.

  “I’m safe,” she whispered, dragging her nails over her arms, the way Jagger had done before, to help herself relax. She let her eyes fall shut, and out of the darkness of her eyelids emerged images of Jagger rubbing her back, Jagger massaging her shoulders and neck, Jagger kissing the top of her head. For a few moments, she fought against it, trying to shake him from her thoughts, but it was no use. She wanted him too badly. Abby sighed and sunk further back against the pillows. Maybe, just maybe, for once I can allow myself to be weak, she thought, sinking back into the images of Jagger taking care of her exhausted body. In this way, she slipped off to sleep, a smile on her face.

  Abby awoke at dawn, ready to go see the few at-home patients she had this morning before her night shift at the hospital began. She got dressed quickly and hurried out of the motel, grabbing the bus across town.

  Her first patient of the day was sleepy but compliant, helping Abby check all her vital signs and efficiently marking down her progress on a chart. However, on her way back out of the old woman’s house, that creepy feeling from the previous night returned, lingering over Abby like a stench, coloring everything else she saw. It felt like somebody was watching her, like someone was hanging out in the shadows, in her peripheral vision. Every time she turned around to look, she couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, let alone a scary boogeyman from her nightmares. Even though she tried to shake it off, telling herself not to be idiotic and cowardly, Abby couldn’t quite get rid of the nagging feeling that someone was following her. She chose to ignore it, suppressing the hot sensation of fear that arose inside of her.

  Abby went on to her next patient’s house, which went smoothly even though she arrived late. Yet again she got this sinking feeling that somebody was watching her, someone very close by yet out of sight. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, lifting almost painfully, while sweat beaded beneath her arms. As she walked back out of the patient’s house, heading toward a park to maybe take a nap on a lawn before she had to go in to work at the hospital, she couldn’t help but wonder if her instincts were right. Maybe someone IS following me, Abby thought as she picked up the pace of her steps. Maybe… Maybe it’s Jagger. She’d told him to leave her alone, but he never listened to her before; why would he do it now?

  Of course, it wasn’t Jagger himself, exactly. That much was evident. If Jagger were following her in person, she knew she’d be able to sense him, feel the closeness of his body to hers. He must have dispatched one of his lackeys from Satan’s Blazes to follow her around. That had to be what it was. Abby sighed as she accepted that conclusion, rubbing her arm muscles to release a bit of the tension. Why can’t he just leave me alone? Abby thought. He was making this whole thing so much harder than it had to be. She knew she had to make a clean break from him, but he just wouldn’t let go, which was making it more difficult for Abby to let go. Which was stupid and silly and wrong. She shouldn’t feel that way about anyone, let alone some obsessive biker firefighter with trust issues. She had to be smarter than that. For fuck’s sake, the cops thought he was the arsonist. He could have been manipulating her this entire time, playing some sick game for his amusement.

  But… He was so sweet in bed, so surprisingly gentle yet strong at the same time. Could he really have been lying to her the entire time, playing with her like a puppet? Abby wasn’t sure.

  Crossing into the park, she located the shadiest stretch of grass she could find, laying out beneath a huge tree to stretch her muscles out pro
perly. Even though the day was unseasonably warm, the sun kissing her skin like a lover would, she couldn’t get her mind off Jagger. Behind her eyes, images flashed one after another, all depicting different angles of his body, his muscles, his skin, his sweat. Abby found herself licking her lips at the memory of how he tasted, how his scent hung in the air after they’d fucked. Goddammit, I can’t be thinking like this, Abby thought. I have to be tougher. I have to be stronger.

  Or maybe, she thought a second later, she needed to be smarter. The cops seemed convinced that Jagger was at least involved, but in her experience police weren’t necessarily infallible. Maybe she needed to look at the facts herself, just as she wanted to do with Robert’s case. She needed a way to weigh the pros and cons of each option and come to the most logical conclusion. Abby sat up, wrapping her arms around her legs as she stared down at the blades of grass that stretched in front of her. I could figure it out myself, find out if Jagger is as bad as they say. And if he is, I’ll be able to forget him forever.

  That settled it. Abby got to her feet, brushing the dust and dirt off her body. She knew what she was going to do for the rest of the afternoon. On to suspect number one’s house.

  # # #

  Jagger

  So far there was nothing suspicious at either Bruce’s or Jacob’s places. They went to the doctor, to the grocery store, to pick up their mail, and then they went back inside to watch television. That was pretty much the exact routine the men had every day, as far as Jagger’s boys could tell. They all alternated each house every couple of hours, though, so maybe they were just getting them confused at this point.

  However, that wasn’t Jagger’s biggest problem. He hadn’t heard from Abby since he last saw her at the hospital. He guessed he shouldn’t have been surprised at that, seeing as she virtually begged him to stay away from her. It bothered him anyway, not knowing where she was or who she was with or what she was doing. There was no way for him to protect her, no way to keep her safe from any potential accomplices of the arsonist.

  Jagger had to do something about it. Again, even if he made her hate him more than she already did in the first place, it would be worth it if it saved her life. Protecting her was the most important thing, no matter what.

  Jagger gathered his MC brothers before they set off on their evening missions, watching over one or both of the suspects. “I need one of you to take on a different job, just for tonight.” He paused, searching the faces of his brothers for any sign of hesitation, any sign of fear. He didn’t want them to do it if they weren’t fully committed. But he saw no signal of doubt. “Abby. Someone needs to find her, make sure she’s secure.”

  After a short pause, Tony raised his hand to volunteer. “I remember her patients’ addresses from that time I took her to visit them,” he explained.

  Jagger nodded. “Good. That’s good. Go there, ask her patients, see if she’s been around recently. I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

  He walked off, letting each of the men go to their missions for the night. As for Jagger, he went back to his bike and started walking it along the road, but not getting on it and riding. He didn’t want to run away from things anymore. He didn’t want to focus all his energy on other people, obsessing about their safety. It was just a way to avoid dealing with himself. Abby helped him see that because she was the exact same way.

  Jagger would protect her. He’d keep her safe, no matter what the price for that might be. He’d save her. Maybe in the process, he could finally save himself from the lie he’d been living, the fallacy that he was ever happy alone.

  # # #

  Abby

  Abby caught the last bus back to the other end of town. She had only about ninety minutes to take care of business and then get to the hospital for her night shift. She was going to be up another fourteen, maybe even fifteen hours. She tried hard to keep her muscles from aching, not to permit them to give up this early in the night. She’d have to be strong for much longer than this.

  She got off the bus at the right stop, breaking into a brisk walk and heading toward the suspect’s house. She focused on Jacob again this time, even though Bruce apparently shot at Jagger. That looked suspicious, but she figured she’d double-check that Jacob wasn’t a secret accomplice or something like that, just in case.

  Again, that creepy feeling crawled up her back like a spider, tiny dark legs dancing all over her skin. Abby swallowed hard to clear her throat and shook her head back and forth, back and forth, side to side, trying to get her mind as clear as possible. If she was going to make a judgment tonight regarding Jagger’s guilt or innocence, she had to stay focused rather than allowing herself to sink down into paranoia.

  She finally found the right house again, creeping slowly up the gravel driveway, trying not to make any noise. Abby could see him through the window, or the back of him anyway, his old spine bent over at what looked like a ridiculously uncomfortable angle. She could sit outside his window and watch him, see if he did anything incriminating, maybe even get pictures of him planning the arsons. To Abby, even that train of thought sounded too far-fetched. She wasn’t going to catch him this way.

  Maybe… He just needs to be scared. The way he scared me, Abby thought, thinking about her ruined apartment, the threatening messages that had been written across the wall. She seethed with anger just thinking about it, about Robert and her apartment and even Jagger’s house with all his childhood knickknacks inside. No, this wasn’t Jagger, Abby thought. It couldn’t be. It was the man inside this house. She knew it, the way she knew that other planets were real even if she couldn’t see them. This man was responsible, no matter how old and fragile he was.

  Fuck him. Abby turned around and found the front walkway, going up to pound on the door, as hard as she could. She wished she could see him react to the noise, maybe even jump in the air in alarm. She wanted him to be scared. She wanted him to feel his stomach quake with terror, totally vulnerable to somebody else. Abby distantly regretted that she hadn’t managed to get her hands on a weapon. Oh, well. She’d just have to intimidate him with her words.

  The door swung open, and a small, white-haired man with a round belly answered, staring at her from beneath heavy eyelids. “What do you want, miss?” he mumbled, looking at her as if he had never seen her before in his life, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion, as if he was just about to retire for the night even though it was only 6 pm at this point.

  Abby stuck her hands on her hips, trying to look and sound as much like a self-superior school teacher as possible. “Don’t give me that, Jacob. You know why I’m here.”

  “Look, is this some prank? Some of the old guys at the MC sending over some broad to scare me into coughing up child support or something like that?” he asked, scratching the side of his mouth, looking completely unfazed.

  “Oh, you want to talk about the MC, do you?” Abby said, stepping closer, practically inside of Jacob’s house. “How about you tell me why you started the fires, huh? What’s the big idea there?”

  “Fires?” Jacob said back, still blinking slowly at her.

  “The arsons!” Abby shouted back. “Do you not know what I’m talking about?”

  The old guy shrugged before staring at her blankly.

  For one long moment, Abby felt doubt. It squeezed at her heart like an iron fist. Maybe she’d picked the least likely candidate among the two suspects and wasted her time. She groaned a little under her breath and checked her watch. She was probably going to be late for her shift if she spent any more time “threatening” him. It wasn’t working anyway. She should have known better than to think that she could be badass like Jagger.

  “All right, well, if you know anything or figure out something that you forgot or… whatever…. about the arsons, let me know, okay? I’m Abby, Abby Horton, and here,” she said, reaching into her bag to pull out one of her cards to give to Jacob. “I’ll give you my nursing card. I can come back if you need help with your back, too. That’s kind of what
I do.”

  Looking back on it, as she would just a few minutes later, that might have been the crucial mistake— Mentioning his back. For when Abby turned around the next second, a spiny, cold hand wrapped around the nape of her neck, yanking her back until she was fully inside the house, slamming the door shut with his free hand before pulling her up into his arms. At this point, Abby’s brain finally responded to the situation with something other than numb shock. She squealed and kicked her legs back and forth, side to side, trying to wiggle free, but the old guy was a lot stronger than he looked, probably still bearing muscles from his MC days.