* * *
By the time Army got back to the clubhouse, the two delivery boys, both who turned out to be no older than fifteen, had been questioned and released. They didn’t even know they were carrying bombs in their hands when they carried the boxes. Each teen said that they were given a hundred bucks to deliver the pizzas. They were given the addresses and told to hand over the pizza to a person who wasn’t wearing a black jacket or leather vest and then to leave immediately. They named the third teen and said he was their friend. After hours of questioning and implicit threats, Goldie, Cueball, Rooster, and Razor determined the frightened teens were just unsuspecting pawns in a dangerous game. From the description of the drivers, the Night Rebels were pretty sure they knew who they were. The teens were scared to death the men would try and hurt them if they knew they talked, but Razor told them not to worry because the club would take care of it.
Cueball and Rooster escorted them home, then had the two prospects, Ink and Vegas, stand watch at each of their houses. Before long, three local drug dealers—Ramsey, Mats, and Billy—were locked in the club’s interrogation room, shackled to the wall.
“The explosives were PVC and black powder, but the good thing was the moron who made it didn’t secure the caps tight enough so they were half on. That bit of stupidity saved Paul’s life and a lot of others,” Army said as he picked up his much-needed glass of whiskey.
“It was the fuckin’ Pistons. The three sniveling pussies we got chained up verified what we already knew.” Razor rubbed his eyes.
“Why don’t you call it a night, dude. The fuckers aren’t going anywhere,” Army said.
“I think I will,” he answered. “Goldie and Rooster already took off. I’m not sure where Cueball is.”
“He’s with Alma.” Ruby sashayed over and ran her blue-tipped nails down his back. “Need some company?”
Razor snagged her around the waist and pulled her toward him. “It’ll be quick.”
“No worries. You need to unwind. I’ll do all the work.”
Army laughed. “That’s an offer a dude can’t turn down.” He watched Ruby snuggle into Razor as they walked away, and for a moment he wished Mia were tucked under his arm as he escorted her to his room. He picked up the glass and tossed it back—the whiskey a little nugget of warmth sliding down inside him. He cupped his hands around the tumbler and let his gaze drift, seeing nothing.
“Steel chewed your ass out good,” Eagle said, sliding onto the stool next to his. “Who the fuck were you talkin’ to?”
“A friend, but he was right to be pissed off at me.” Army pushed away from the bar. “I’m beat, dude.”
“I’m just having a nightcap then I’m gonna crash too,” Eagle replied.
Army tilted his head then headed to his room. After kicking off his boots, he sank down on the mattress. He couldn’t believe that in the middle of a clusterfuck he’d slipped away to call Mia. What the hell’s going on with me? Since he’d met her, he kept telling himself that all he wanted was to have her writhing underneath him, but a feeling niggling at the back of his mind made him second-guess himself. What he felt was more than simple lust; it was a connection like nothing he’d ever experienced with a woman. It made him want to step away from her and run to her at the same time; his feelings were a confused mess of contradictions.
Shit. Heaving out a sigh, he sat up and leaned back as sleep evaded him. He opened the top drawer on the nightstand and took out a joint, hoping that it would help his brain switch gears and ease his thoughts away from Mia. Images of her in tight shorts and tops played in his mind. Fuck! He slammed his fist on the top of the nightstand; just thinking about her got him hard. The pain of a rigid, unsatisfied cock didn’t help dispel thoughts of Mia from his mind. Calling in one of the club girls to relieve the discomfort crossed his mind, but they were poor substitutes for the pussy he wanted to pump into—Mia’s.
“This is a crock of shit!” he cried out, stubbing out the joint. Growling in frustration, he pushed down on the desire for her still burning in his veins. Shoving the ashtray away, it fell to the floor with a dull thud. He stood up, picked it up then hurled it across the room. It struck the wall and shattered there, shards of glass falling on the wooden floor. He walked in a circle, pacing as his mind raced. I’m in deeper than I should be with her. Anger rolled through him—that, and desire. I need to just fuck her and stop this bullshit. He ran both hands across his face, through his dark hair. I can’t let her screw with my head. I need to concentrate on the club and the mess we’ve got going with the fuckin’ Pistons. I don’t have time for these feelings for her. I didn’t ask for any of this!
The sound of Mia’s sweet laugh, the scent of her perfume, images of her in high heels, and the feel of her soft body pressed against his ran through his mind. Army shook his head back and forth, trying to chase the thoughts from his brain.
The first slither of sun peeked over the desert in a radiant, white form as ribbons of sandy yellow and rosy pink filled the sky, welcoming a new day. Army grabbed the trashcan and picked up the shards of broken glass, then went over to the window and closed the curtains. He needed to get some sleep because the day would be long: three lives would end; evidence would be destroyed, and plans for retaliation would be put in place.
The trashcan scraped against the floor as he pushed it back in the corner. He lay down on the mattress and closed his eyes, hoping sleep would come quickly.
Chapter Thirteen
Mia sneaked a peek at her phone and groaned inwardly. Only thirty minutes has gone by?
“Do you gotta go somewhere?” Noe asked, staring at her.
“I’m trying to get a long workout in today. I’m thinking of competing and the fight’s a month away. I have a lot of work to do.”
“Is that guy gonna be there?”
“Army?” Just saying his name sent an excited flip through her stomach, making her fork clank against her plate.
“Yeah … that asshole.”
“Pretty strong word for someone you don’t know.” She picked up the knife and cut a piece of steak then looked up at him. “He’s not a member, so he won’t be there.” But I wish he was.
“You dating him?”
Mia popped the morsel of food in her mouth and chewed slowly as she thought about the answer. On one hand she wanted to tell him they were dating, but on the other, she didn’t want Vic to get too nosy about Army. It would spell disaster for both of them if Vic ever found out he was a Night Rebel. She swallowed. “No.”
“He acted like it.”
Mia shrugged slightly and looked back down at her plate. “You grabbed my hand when we walked in here. That’s the way men are.”
“But you pulled away from me. I didn’t see you do that with him.”
Shaking her head lightly, she gave a tight laugh. “With all the questions, you’re acting more like you’re my brother instead of his friend.” She picked up the glass and drank; the bubbles from the carbonation tickled her nose.
“I hope you see me as more than just Shark’s friend.”
“Did you finish with your business in town?” She avoided his stare and concentrated on scooping up a hazelnut on the fork.
“Yeah. I’m thinking of heading back tomorrow unless there’s a reason for me to stay.” His gaze pierced through her.
“I won’t be able to hang out. I’m just too busy at work and with training.” She gave a small laugh. “That’s really my life in a nutshell.”
He pressed his lips together to form a straight line and stared at her for several seconds. “Yeah … right.” He ran his finger over the beer bottle, his gaze still fixed on her. “I can stop by the gym and watch you train later tonight.”
I shouldn’t have called Noe back after Army canceled on me. She’d procrastinated in doing it but finally made the call figuring it was easier to just go out with him than to go through Vic’s interrogation as to why she’d canceled. Also, Army telling her not to go was presumptuous, and it pissed
her off. However, at that moment, she was afraid Noe was reading too much into their lunch. Earlier that day, two of her clients had rescheduled so she’d called him and suggested meeting up for a late lunch that afternoon rather than on Sunday, and Noe readily agreed.
“I’ll be in a private room with my personal trainer,” she lied, hoping he didn’t know squat about Champion.
“Then what about dinner after?”
“Another time. After a long workout, I’m not good for anyone.” She laughed, trying to make light of the situation even though Noe’s eyes pierced through her and his brows knitted together. “Speaking of training, I have to go. My trainer gets mad if I’m even five minutes late.” Mia opened her wallet and pulled out a twenty. “That should cover my share.”
“I invited you,” Noe growled. “Put your fuckin’ money away.”
Taken aback, Mia shoved the bill back in her wallet. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I just thought we’d go Dutch since we’re just friends, you know?”
Ignoring her, Noe threw down the money on the bill tray and pushed back on the chair; it made angry scraping sounds on the tiled floor. “You coming?” he gritted as he walked away from the table.
Mia quickly slipped out of the chair and followed him to the car. From the corner of her eye, she saw a red sports car across the street and sitting in it was the same man she’d seen in front of the salon the week before. After opening the car door, she turned and looked straight on at the guy. There was no expression on his face, but his hands gripped the steering wheel, and he had a menacing presence. An electric chill ran down her spine as she slid into the seat and closed the door. As Noe drove away, she stared out the passenger mirror, seeing the sports car pulling out and falling behind them. Panic pricked at her skin as her gaze fixed on the vehicle.
“What’re you looking at?” Noe asked.
“I think that red car is following us. No … actually, I know it is.”
Noe glanced in the rearview mirror. “Why do you think that?”
“I’ve seen it many times in the last couple of weeks. I don’t know who he is or why he’d be following me.”
“It’s a flashy car, so I’m not surprised you’ve seen it around. The city’s not that big.”
“Even so, I don’t want whomever it is to know where I live.”
He glanced again in the mirror. “He just turned left.”
Mia looked over her shoulder. The car was gone. “I just think it’s odd that he was in front of the salon last week.”
“Are you sure it was the same person? I couldn’t even tell what he really looked like.”
“Maybe you’re right.” She stared straight ahead, a niggling doubt still in the back of her mind.
Noe put his hand on her thigh and squeezed a bit too much. “Next time you see it, get the plate number and give it to me. I’ll check it out, okay?”
“All right,” she said, shifting her body.
Noe pulled his hand away and pounded it on the steering wheel, cussing under his breath. Mia counted the minutes until they’d arrive at her house.
“We can do breakfast tomorrow morning before I leave.” Noe put the car in Park.
“Sorry, but I have a private customer tomorrow morning. Have a great trip back, and I really hope that your dad feels better.”
“He won’t. He’s got a fuckin’ progressive disease.” His voice was hard like steel.
Mia opened the door. “Then, I hope he’s at least comfortable. I know how hard it must be for you.”
“You really don’t. You don’t know jack shit about loving a parent. Shark tells me you rarely call your mom. That’s not being a good daughter, is it? Raye always complains to Shark about not hearing from you.”
Her body tensed and she turned to look at him, her chin held up high. “First off, my mom has a phone, too, and the only time she’d ever called me since I moved away was a couple of weeks ago to tell me about Finn. Any other rare time I hear from her is when I go home or I call her. That’s the way it’s been for the past six years, so where the fuck do you get off telling me about my mom?”
“Of course, you’re mad and defensive. Telling someone the truth always brings about that kind of reaction.”
With her temper flaring, she rushed out of the car then slammed the door.
“Mia, get the fuck back over here.”
Anger and contempt burned behind her eyelids, red and hot. She stalked up the walkway, not turning around when she heard Noe yell, “You can be a real bitch!” followed by tires screeching as he sped away. How dare he tell me about Mom! And Shark’s an asshole for saying that shit about me. He knows how Mom is with me. Grinding her teeth, she bent her head down and kicked the dried leaves littering the path. “Why the hell don’t they sweep the sidewalks? I pay a hefty HOA,” she fumed under her breath.
She took out her keys then looked up and saw a beautiful bouquet of flowers in a glass vase with a deep purple ribbon and bow around it. Staring at it, her anger intensified. Fuck! Why can’t Jorge catch on that it’s over? This is my day for assholes! She bent down and picked up the vase and tucked her arm around it while she opened the front door. Pumpkin and Snickers came running over, and she went into the living room and placed the flowers on the coffee table then bent down and petted the cats. “I had a shitty time,” she said to them as they nuzzled their faces against her cheeks. “Are you hungry?” She stood up and went into the kitchen.
After she fed them, she changed into one of her favorite fleece nightshirts she wore for lounging around, and sat on the couch staring at the vibrantly colored flowers. Spotting a small white envelope, she debated about reading the crap Jorge had written, but curiosity got the better of her, and she leaned over and snagged the note: Hey, babe. Army. Straightening up, she reread the note again as her anger melted away and the glow of happiness radiated through her. “I can’t fucking believe it!” she cried out loud, startling both her cats.
Her mood, which had been foul just moments before, was bright and jovial, and she thought she would burst from shock and joy and sheer giddiness. Mia stood up and bent over to smell them. “How did you know I love sunflowers?” she murmured under her breath.
The last person she would’ve thought of as romantic was Army, yet the unexpected bouquet proved her wrong. Mia was no stranger to receiving flowers from men, and when she’d dated Jorge, it seemed like he sent them every week, but none of the bouquets or arrangements she’d received meant as much to her as the one right in front of her. Threads of desire wove through her as she stared at the most beautiful flowers she’d ever seen while vivid pornographic images of Army played in her head.
The phone humming on the table invaded her erotic reverie and she reached over and picked it up, hoping it wasn’t Noe going in for round number two. Ronica’s name flashed across the screen, and she pushed the button and held the phone to her ear.
“Hi, Ronica.”
“Mia. You sound … bubbly, and that’s not a word I thought I’d ever use to describe you. Did you finally screw your hottie?”
She giggled. “No, and he’s not my anything, but he did do something totally unexpected and terribly romantic.” She paused for dramatic effect, laughing when Ronica kept asking what it was that he did.
“I swear I’m going to hang up if you don’t tell me right now, Mia.”
“He sent me a huge bouquet of flowers.” Mia stared at them as she spoke, the thrill of his gesture still sparking inside her.
“Red roses?”
“No. He sent a gorgeous assortment of sunflowers, copper daisies, carnations, and some others I don’t know the names of. Simply beautiful. I’ve never been so shocked and happy at the same time.”
“I have to admit I’d never have guessed a guy like him would even think to send flowers. Wow. He really likes you or really wants to screw you.”
“I think it’s both, and I feel the same way.”
“Is there a card?”
“Yes.” Mia grinned ag
ain as she reread it.
“What does it say?” Ronica asked.
“Hey, babe … then his name.”
“What the hell? That doesn’t say anything.”
Mia pressed the card against her chest. “You’re wrong—it says everything.”
“Did you call and thank him yet?”
“I was just getting ready to when you phoned.”
“When are you going to see him again? Didn’t you tell me you don’t know when he’ll be back in town?”
“Yeah. I’m not sure when he’s coming back here. I didn’t tell you this, but he’s a Night Rebel.”
Ronica laughed. “He’s a rebel all right. He swaggers, has a cocky demeanor, and has a bunch of tattoos on his arms. I don’t think anyone would think he’s a conformist, but then you aren’t either. That’s why I told you he’d be perfect for you.”
“No, I don’t mean that. He’s a biker in an outlaw motorcycle club—the Night Rebels.”
“I’m not surprised he’s a biker. I bet he has a big Harley to go along with other things that are big on him.” Ronica chuckled.
For a second, Mia pictured Army hovering over her with his big dick pushing in and out of her; she shook her head to scatter the image. “Is your mind one track? And he does have a Harley.” Mia sniggered.
“I knew it. I bet it’ll be exciting to ride on the back of that thing holding onto him. It sounds like something out of a movie. I must admit, bad boys are so fucking sexy.”
“I’ve been on bikes a lot of times. My brother Vic has had Harleys since he was sixteen. Hang on a sec … I’m going to get a Coke.” Mia went into the kitchen and grabbed a can from the six-pack on the granite counter. She’d never told any of her friends that Vic was in an outlaw club, but she needed Ronica’s advice on what to do about the situation with Army. She sank back down on the couch. “I’m back.”
“So your brother likes motorcycles.”
She took a large gulp then suppressed a burp. “He’s in an outlaw club too. He’s the president.”
“Really? That’s a small world. Do you think Army and Vic know each other?”
Army Page 16