He faced Voodoo. “I’m going to be taking him, too.” He crashed his fist into Voodoo’s face. Voodoo dropped. The three men behind him came at Big Mike. Big Mike dropped the first one with a throat chop, the other two with solar plexus strikes. He shook out his hands. He was going to have to ice his knuckles, later. He used his booted foot to knock them out, one at a time, with carefully judged taps to the temple.
Minnie was bent over Voodoo, searching through his pockets. She found her phone and stuffed it into her own pocket. “I hope you’re keeping that outfit,” Minnie said, eyeing his bare chest, her teeth biting her full lower lip. “Rowr!” Her cheeks flushed with heat.
He grabbed her and kissed her hard. She was all scented, welcoming softness. He released her, pushing her away from him.
She spoke, “I have a plan to-”
“Minnie. I don’t want to hear another word from you.” Her face crumpled. “You’re a reckless idiot, not fit to be left alone for a minute.” She was looking at him as if he had just shot Bambi. To hell with it. “No wonder your father wants to lock you up,” he said.
He turned from her and grabbed the back of Crash’s jacket and dragged him outside. One-handed, he texted one word to Rocco. Now.
A series of loud bangs sounded from the front of the building. Minnie followed him out of the room and grabbed at his arm. “They’re shooting,” she said, with big eyes.
“Those are flashbangs aka stun grenades,” he said. A stun grenade created a loud bang and a blinding flash, incapacitating anyone with a five foot radius. They were designed for urban warfare and generally didn’t inflict permanent hurt. “Now we get the hell out,” he said.
He dipped and put his shoulder into Minnie’s bare midriff, and straightened, tossing her over his shoulder. She grunted and clutched at his back. He anchored her brother’s shirt firmly in one hand and dragged Crash to the stairs.
“Big Mike. Wait. There are-“
“Minnie, be quiet.” He slapped her jean-clad buttocks hard.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Minnie pushed her hair out of her face, trying to keep an eye on where they were headed. She was upside down, over Big Mike’s shoulder. Big Mike had swatted her ass with a giant paw. It stung, literally and metaphorically. He was descending the stairs dragging Crash along beside him. Crash bumped from stair to stair.
She wasn’t sure why she was so upset. She had expected him to be angry with her but she had forgotten that when she had seen him standing in the doorway, big and solid, so… Big Mike. She hadn’t been able to stop her headlong rush into his arms. And then he had called her an idiot and told her that Daddy was right to want to lock her up. She slapped at his butt, hard.
He ignored her. They had reached the bar and he was stepping over bodies, dragging Crash along beside them. Crash was going to have splinters from the rough wooden floor. For one horrible moment, Minnie thought the people lying on the ground were dying. They weren’t. They were groaning and blinking and holding their ears as if they pained them. A man tried to get up and fell again. So this was what the aftermath of a stun grenade looked like. Impressive. She’d like to use a couple on the paparazzi. She’d love to see Graham Fother flailing about, like a landed flounder, in his bubblegum-encrusted Fendi coat.
Then she remembered. She owed it to Big Mike to tell him what lay in store for them, outside the bar. “We should go out the back door,” she yelled, spitting her hair out of her mouth.
He ignored her. She knew he heard her because there was a small change in the tension of his body.
“Big Mike?” She rapped him hard on the butt to command his attention.
He ignored her. Again.
“I only did this by myself because you were treating me like the li’l woman, again,” she yelled. She pummeled his buttocks. “You forced me to do this alone! And it worked. I’ve rescued Crash.”
“You haven’t rescued anyone,” he yelled back. “I’m rescuing you. Again.”
“Fine. I won’t say another word. Nothing. Nad-”
“You’re still talking, Minnie.”
Big Mike pushed through the doors into the night. The air was cold against her bare back. She counted in her head. One. Two. Three-
A volley of flashes started to pop around them. Big Mike stopped dead in his tracks, tensing for action. He dropped Crash on the sidewalk. She heard her brother groan. Both of Big Mike’s hands rested protectively on her upper thighs as he turned in a slow circle. They were surrounded by cameras. Not just photographers but a TV cameraman, too.
“Minerva, look over here,” a man yelled. Minnie looked straight at him, knowing full well what to expect. A camera flash popped. She pushing her hair back from her face and waved with one hand. She needed the other hand to hold her ragged top together. A flash popped, blinding her. That would be the front page lead. Her career was swirling down a drain. She laughed. “I love beer,” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “Have you heard the one about the sinking ship, its captain and the goat?”
More flashes popped.
She heard a car pull up with a squeal of tires. Big Mike plowed a path through the clamoring photographers. She was stuffed into a black SUV with tinted windows. Crash’s limp body was thrown in on top of her.
“Ooof,” she sat up, pushing her brother off her, into the middle of the seat. Big Mike pushed in beside them taking up half of the seat. The SUV pulled away, accelerating fast. Behind them, more camera flashes popped.
A stranger was driving. A man in dark, Black-Opsy clothes. He didn’t greet them or smile. He just drove with contained competence. Minnie guessed he was one of Rocco’s men.
“You knew the photographers would be waiting outside?” Big Mike asked, leaning across her brother.
“I invited them,” she said, with satisfaction. “I took photographs of The Oasis, created some social media posts, put it on my social media feed and emailed all of the big newspapers. I came clean about my past to ten million people. I knew Voodoo couldn’t keep me locked up once he saw the media lining up outside his club and trying to get inside. Nothing would keep those vultures away from fresh carrion.”
Big Mike’s impassivity was gone. He looked stunned. “Minnie, what about your career?” he said. “Your Delilah’s Intrigue fashion show, next week?”
“I got Crash back,” she took her brother’s hand in hers. “That’s all that matters. And I didn’t need anyone to rescue me.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
She really should date a bazillionaire, Minnie thought, extracting two packets of bacon from Rocco’s sumptuously stocked fridge. His kitchen was about five times the size of a regular kitchen. It was black and sleek with steel appliances, as if it had been decorated by a sports car designer instead of an interior designer. It was a pity Rocco was so short.
Minnie stepped one tile width to the left so she could put her bare toes into a block of sunlight. She was wearing last night’s jeans and a too-big t-shirt someone — Rocco? — had left on her bed. Floor-to-ceiling windows ran the length of the penthouse apartment. She was going to fry up a pound or five of bacon, take it out into the sunny patio and eat it with her fingers. Then she’d let it settle on her ass as she enjoyed the view. Live in the moment.
There was a whisper of sound behind her. She tensed, hoping it wasn’t Big Mike. She had avoided every attempt he made to get her alone last night, to his enormous frustration. He had practically growled like a bear when she had finally bid everyone a sunny goodnight and gone to her allocated room. She had nipped inside and locked the door, knowing he would follow her. She had fallen asleep within minutes.
“Hello,” a dark-haired boy greeted her. He was wearing Spiderman pajamas and looked a lot like Rocco. She didn’t know much about kids so she had no idea how old he was. Marginally closer to diapers than puberty, she guesstimated.
“You want some bacon?” she said, hefting the fridge-chilled packets higher in her hands. The boy gave her a shy smile, and climbed up onto one of the
high stools positioned against the granite counter. “I’m Minnie,” she said. She moved the morning papers to the opposite side of the counter. He was about thirty years too young for the pictures of her that were splashed across the front page of the papers.
“Are you dad’s girlfriend?” So Rocco was divorced—
“She’s mine.” Big Mike loomed in the doorway, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt. Minnie found a pan and set it on the heat.
“No, she isn’t,” she said, pasting a smile on her face so as not to alarm the boy. Big Mike was constrained by the kid’s presence too so all he did was glower and take the seat next to him. There were dark marks under his eyes as if he’d passed a restless night. She was conscious of Big Mike’s brooding gaze following her as she puttered about. Minnie emptied the bacon onto her hot pan and heard it sizzle. She inhaled deeply. Mmmm. Everything was better with bacon.
“Minnie?” Something about his voice made her look up. Big Mike was holding one of the newspapers she had carefully moved away from the boy. That was the one that had printed the picture of her and Big Mike in the elevator, on the front page, but had mercifully put a big black star over his crotch and her hand. Beauty Manhandles the Beast’s Man Handle was the headline. Big Mike tossed the newspaper back onto the pile and rounded the counter. Minnie held up the wooden spatula like a weapon. He ignored it and swept her into a hug.
She was awkward in his arms, her spatula hanging down his back. “Big Mike, I’m fine.” She shrugged. “I’ve been fired. My agent left a voicemail while I was in the shower.”
“About what I said last night, I-”
“Delilah’s Intrigue invoked the morals clause.”
“You ran when you promised me you wouldn’t,” Big Mike said in a low, urgent voice holding her even tighter.
“My agent thinks I should go to rehab and then try the seeking-redemption angle on talk shows.”
“I was afraid they’d hurt you before I could get to you.”
“I don’t agree with her. She’s a really good agent, but I think I should see this as a fresh start.” She patted Big Mike’s back. Fat dripped off the spoon onto his t-shirt. That would be difficult to wash out.
“What the hell?” Crash’s voice sounded from the doorway.
Big Mike released her. He looked even more frustrated than he had, last night. He squared off in front of her brother who was holding himself like a man with a few broken ribs. “Kid in the room,” she warned in a sing-song voice. The boy was watching them with bright, interested eyes. Big Mike took his seat again.
Minnie greeted her brother with a careful hug and a kiss on the least-bruised part of his face. Thankfully, he had taken the time to wash the blood from his hair. It shone gold where the morning sun caught it. “Nice to see you conscious, finally. Bacon?” she offered. He nodded, taking the seat next to Big Mike. “Where are we?” Crash said.
“My boss’s apartment,” Big Mike said. “A doctor checked you over last night. He said take it easy for a few days and you’ll be fine. There’s not much they can do for broken ribs. I’ll strap them up after breakfast.”
Crash grunted.
His boss’s apartment. So Big Mike had accepted Rocco’s job offer. She was pleased for him. It was about time he put down roots somewhere. She wished him well.
Minnie stirred her bacon, keeping a wary eye on the men seated at the counter. They needed to learn to live in the moment. Like her. Smell the bacon.
“Read these,” Big Mike said, pushing the pile of newspapers towards Crash. “It’ll get you up to speed. Your sister is with me. Deal with it.”
“No, I’m not,” Minnie said. “We’re fundamentally incompatible. He’s having trouble letting go,” she explained to no-one in particular.
Crash’s light, empty eyes flicked between her and Big Mike. Then he kept looking at Big Mike, tilting his head to the side. Big Mike refused to drop his gaze. He was staking a public claim regardless of her scary brother. This was something she had fantasized about as a teenager, and later, had tried in vain to imagine a stockbroker boyfriend in that role. Now she understood that only a biker — ex-biker — would be tough enough to do it.
Crash drew the first paper towards him. Even Minnie felt chilled by the expression on his face. “Kid in the room, kid in the room,” Minnie repeated nervously.
Crash riffled through the other papers. “Later,” he said to Big Mike.
Big Mike nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Minnie divided the bacon between four plates, giving herself the largest portion. She put a plate in front of each of them.
“I’m Jason,” the boy said.
“Howdy,” she said, picking up a hot rasher with her fingers and biting into it. Mmmm. Her eyes shut with pleasure. It tasted every bit as good as she expected.
She whipped her phone out and took a picture of the plate of bacon and posted it to her social media feed. She noticed her social media following had increased by five million people. They were happy to watch an almost-supermodel crash and burn.
Minnie picked up her plate. “I’ll be outside. Alone. Jason, your father is in his office. He said he’d call up when my cat, Boots, and my other clothes arrive. Will you please let me know?”
The boy nodded, his mouth full.
Minnie smiled her thanks and left. She was conscious of all three of them watching her.
Outside, she held her face up to the sun. She was taking all of this surprisingly well.
Minnie couldn’t hear the conversation happening inside the kitchen.
“I think she’s very cross with you,” Jason said, through a mouthful of bacon.
“Who?” both men paused mid-bite.
“Both of you.” Jason crunched away. “You should both say sorry.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
A shadow fell across Minnie’s lounger. “Pack. We’re going home,” Crash said.
Minnie yawned and stretched. The patio was sheltered from wind by high perspex barriers. “You’re standing in my sun,” she said.
“Minerva!” Crash said, sharply. The sun behind him, rimmed his fair hair. It was the same color as hers, the gold of ripe corn.
“Leave her be.” Big Mike’s bulk blocked out the rest of her sun.
“Big Mike, what happened to your face?” she snapped. The side of his mouth was puffy, ending in a raw slash.
“I walked into a door.”
Her brother smiled.
“You’re infuriating. Both of you.” Neither of them looked bothered by her outburst. “You’ve had some kind of macho showdown, and exchanged a few blows about me. About me! Me!” She was screeching at the top of her voice. Her inner calm had deserted her.
“Minerva, you’re coming home with me today,” Crash said.
Minnie looked up at him and suddenly knew from a place deep inside her that she was through obeying her family. After everything she had been through, she knew she was tough enough. For anything. “Crash, you can go fu-“
“Why don’t we let Minnie decide what she wants to do?” Big Mike said quietly.
Minnie’s mouth dropped open. Big Mike was giving her the space to make a decision.
“She’s not your business,” Crash said.
“Maybe. Maybe not. Minnie gets to decide about that too,” Big Mike said. The two men squared off. Minnie did not want them fighting on a penthouse patio. Perspex barriers hemmed the area, but just beyond that, lay a thirty story plummet to the street below.
Time to step up. “I’m staying in New York. It’s my home,” Minnie said. “I might not be able to be a fashion model anymore, but there’s good money in trade shows.” She’d rather lie on a car or a ride-on mower in a bikini and smile, than go home in defeat. This was the last time she was going to let her family bully her. She stepped between Big Mike and her brother.
“You’re moving back home where we can keep you safe,” her brother said.
She stood up straighter. “The only way you’ll get me in a car i
s if you knock me out and tie me up. Else I’ll fight you every inch of the way.”
“Minerva!” Crash reached for her, seemingly intent on moving her physically. Big Mike stepped between them.
Oh for heaven’s sake! She used her elbow to jostle past Big Mike and got right up in her brother’s face. “I’m sure Voodoo told you that somebody dropped a dead biker outside The Oasis and set him on fire.”
“Yeah? So what?”
“I did it.”
Crash gave her a look of disbelief. “Are you saying you dumped him there or you killed him?”
“Both,” she said. His death was an accident but she wasn’t going to admit that — not when she was trying to assert herself.
“She kicked him in the head. I was there,” Big Mike said. “He was reaching for a gun. She stopped him. Permanently.”
She saw a flicker of pride in her brother’s face but it didn’t lessen the tension.
“There’s a turf war going on Minnie. This isn’t over yet. Somehow you and Big Mike got me out last night — I can’t remember much — but TDR won’t give up,” Crash said.
“Crash, It’s not a turf war. It’s a takeover. TDR knew what time we were landing at the airport, and at what terminal. That’s the only way they could have been in place at exactly the right time to intercept both of us.”
“You’re saying they have an informer inside Hell’s Crew?” Crash was quick on the uptake.
“I think one of Daddy’s lieutenants has made some kind of deal with them. As soon as Daddy shows weakness, by negotiating with another club, the Hell’s Crew leadership will be up for grabs.”
Crash shook his head. She knew he’d have trouble believing that one of the men he viewed as a brother would betray him.
She pressed her point, “I deliberately handed myself over to Voodoo last night, at The Oasis-“
On the Run (Big Mike and Minnie Book 1) Page 11