On the Run (Big Mike and Minnie Book 1)

by Kelly, Susan Amanda

“Where the hell were you when she was doing this?” Crash said to Big Mike.

  Big Mike’s jaw clenched. “Like you were able to keep her locked down on the west coast?”

  It was like trying to herd cats, keeping the two of them on topic and not trading blows. “Voodoo spoke to Daddy on the phone but he didn’t ask Daddy for anything. Not money. Not a shipment. Not a route. Nothing. Nada. I think that I caught Voodoo by surprise and he forgot to ask Daddy for anything. Because he didn’t want anything. The whole point of this was to get Daddy to agree to negotiate for one of us, Crash. To show weakness.”

  “Snake would never have negotiated for me,” Crash said. “I’m a Hell’s Crew lieutenant. I don’t expect it.”

  “Which is why I handed myself over to Voodoo last night,” Minnie said. “I knew Daddy would negotiate my return.”

  There was no gratitude from Crash. “Later,” Crash said to Big Mike, clearly blaming Big Mike for her actions.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Big Mike said in response, prickling instantly.

  “Aaaaargh,” Minnie screamed.

  Both men stared at her. “Does your father know about your theory?” Big Mike said.

  She nodded. “I called him last night and explained as soon as we got back here. He listened.” He had been so grateful she was safe, he had listened to her, for once, without interruption.

  Crash turned and headed inside. “I’m calling Snake.” He never called their father Dad.

  She watched him walk away. “Crash knew Daddy wouldn’t negotiate for him. He didn’t expect it. Big Mike, he was waiting to die. I’m not sure why I wanted to be as tough as a Coolidge. Seems to me there’s a whole lot of stubbornness and stupidity in there.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Big Mike swept her up in his arms and sat on the lounger, cradling her close. “I’m hoping that means you’re going to listen to me.”

  “Crash will kill you if he catches you pawing me,” she hissed but she wasn’t struggling to get away. Yet.

  “Good to know you care,” Big Mike said. He dropped a kiss on her ear.

  “I don’t want your blood staining Rocco’s fancy patio.”

  Big Mike shrugged. “Crash’d hurt me but he wouldn’t kill me. I think.” The corners of his mouth tilted up fractionally. “I let him punch me a coupla times, earlier. It’s hard for a brother to accept his sister’s man.” His hands smoothed up and down her body with the familiarity of someone who had explored that body, naked.

  “Except his sister doesn’t do bikers,” she said firmly, falling back on her standard objection.

  “Ex-biker.” He nuzzled her neck, one hand cupping her breast. “I understand why you have trouble with my past, Minnie — your family kept you on a short leash.”

  “You see me as an idiot you have to keep rescuing.” She stared up at the endless blue sky above them. A bird wheeled and dipped, disappearing into the sun.

  “I don’t. I screwed up. I said that because I was scared. I was so scared I wouldn’t get to you in time. You had it all under control last night, Minnie.” He tugged on her earlobe with his teeth. “I’m not going to lock you up away from the world. I’m not like your family…”

  That wasn’t true. He was enough like them for her to find him near irresistible. His hand kneaded her breast, his other hand smoothing down her front, over her ribcage, her belly and lower. She trapped that hand, stopping it from roaming further south. The lounger creaked beneath their combined weight. “Minnie gets to decide,” she said haughtily, using his earlier phrase.

  “She does. But I didn’t say I wouldn’t try and persuade her.” She could hear the smile in his voice. He pinched her nipple.

  She stifled a moan. Her mind might be holding out but her body knew.

  “But I’m not much of a talker, Minnie,” he said. His fingers took her chin and gently tipped her head so he could reach her mouth. She was expecting him to plunder her mouth, but he didn’t. He brushed his lips over hers, a butterfly kiss. And then it was gone. Then his head dipped again, a little longer, his mouth warm and sweet on hers. And again. And again. Until she followed his mouth with hers, clinging, thirsty for that fleeting sweetness. It was so soft and infinitely tender. A surprise. She twisted in his embrace, lifted her arms and wound them around his neck, lying against him. He wrapped her even closer and kissed her deeply. She kissed him back. She was a boneless heap when he finally released her. Her breathing was uneven. So was his.

  He paused for a moment, “You say you don’t want an ex-biker, Minnie, but you know I’m the only man you could take home for Christmas who wouldn’t be sent home in a body bag.”

  Jason appeared beside them. “Good, you told her you were sorry.” He smiled as they scrabbled to sit upright. “Minnie, your cat is here. Can I play with her?”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Rocco and Crash emerged onto the patio at the same time. Minnie was lying against Big Mike’s chest, lulled by his even breathing. His arms were curled loosely around her. His eyes were shut but she knew he was awake. Jason had rushed inside to pet Boots as soon as she gave him permission.

  “Who’s Ms Garvin?” Rocco asked. His hands were thrust into the pockets of his charcoal grey pants. He had paired those pants with a plain, white shirt. He looked like a male model pretending to be a corporate hotshot for a shoot.

  “She lives in my apartment building,” Minnie said, shifting in Big Mike’s arms and shading her eyes from the sun so she could see Rocco’s face. He looked amused.

  “She gave an exclusive interview to the Post about you and Big Mike,” Rocco said. “It’s… graphic. Is she single?” His dimples appeared.

  “She’s old enough to be your grandmother,” Big Mike said, his eyes still shut.

  “I like older women,” Rocco said. And after a thoughtful pause, “I like all women.”

  Big Mike’s arms tightened on Minnie. She snuggled closer and retrieved her phone from her pocket. She used it to check her social media accounts. Her social media following was up by another five million. Rubberneckers.

  “The singer Fable is claiming you broke his heart,” Rocco said. Big Mike opened his eyes.

  “He hardly knows me. He’s trying to promote his latest single,” Minnie said.

  “He claims it’s about you. Wild Heart,” Rocco said. Minnie waved him away.

  “I spoke to Snake,” Crash said, sitting on the lounger next to the one that she and Big Mike were curled up on. He gave Big Mike an unfriendly look. Big Mike just locked his arms around her. “Minnie, you were right,” Crash said.

  “Who did it?” Minnie asked. Which of Hell’s Crew’s lieutenants had betrayed them?

  “I don’t know. Snake wouldn’t say much over the phone.”

  That had to be gnawing at Crash. Everyone in Hell’s Crew was family. A weird family, but a family nonetheless. Minnie reached out and squeezed her bother’s hand.

  “This doesn’t solve your problem with TDR,” Big Mike said. “You’ve made them look weak. They’ll come after you Minnie-“

  “I’m not going home with Crash,” she said, before he could climb on that bandwagon again.

  “I want you here with me,” he said. “But that means we have to resolve the situation with TDR. They’re garbage anyhow, and somebody needs to take out the garbage.”

  “She’s better off at home with me. We can’t eliminate a whole club,” Crash said. “Well, we can, but somebody would notice.”

  “We can’t do it, but the FBI can,” Minnie said, suddenly inspired. Whoa! “Rocco, you found TDR’s headquarters, didn’t you? The railway depot on an island.”

  Rocco nodded.

  “I bet it’s a hotbed of illegal activity. Guns, drugs, evidence of human trafficking… you name it, they’ll have it,” she said. “I have an idea, but I need someone tall, bald and tattooed to help me.” She drew a little heart on Big Mike’s chest with her fingertip.

  “I’m your man,” he said simply.

  She smile
d at him. “We can isolate TDR on the island and hand them over to the FBI. I have a plan. It’s brilliant.”

  “Your last brilliant plan ended with us having to use stun grenades in an urban bar. The one before that ended with us setting fire to a dead body with lighter fluid,” Big Mike said.

  “This one is even better,” she promised. “And I’m going to be a part of it. A decoy.”

  “Do you have a sister, Minnie?” Rocco said. His dimples were back.

  Crash gave Rocco a feral look before turning his attention back to Minnie. “What do you mean, you’re going to be a decoy, Minnie? No, you’re not,” he said.

  Big Mike looked between her and her brother. He clearly wanted to agree with Crash. “Minnie, you can be a decoy only if we agree this is part of an arrangement whereby you only get to do one reckless, crazy thing every decade,” Big Mike said.

  She took that as a yes, kissed Big Mike soundly, and outlined her brilliant plan.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The three men had acknowledged, with unflattering surprise, that Minnie had come up with a workable plan. They had sequestered themselves to work out the details and had emerged a few hours later. Minnie was in the sitting-room, on the carpet, playing Gin Rummy with Jason. Rocco’s son was beating her. She owed him seven million dollars so far.

  “I’ve picked a team,” Big Mike said. “All Black Ops.”

  He had picked the team without her. Of course. But she was going to participate in the operation, so she didn’t complain.

  Crash took a deep draw from a beer bottle. “Everyone on it is gay or happily married,” he said.

  Big Mike gave him a look that promised retribution later for letting that fact slip. “I want men who’ll keep their minds on the job at hand, and off Minnie,” Big Mike said. “I need one more guy as a driver.”

  “How about Dudley?” Crash said. “He’s single and straight but he’s obsessed with birds. Wouldn’t give Minnie a second look unless she grew feathers and a beak.”

  Big Mike had a faraway look in his eyes. “He’s got skills. Weapons, hand-to-hand combat…”

  Minnie discarded a seven of hearts. Jason pounced on it with barely disguised glee.

  She could see Dudley being added to the mental list of professional killers, in Big Mike’s head, tasked with babysitting her. She had exchanged two overzealous protectors for a team of overzealous protectors. She glared at her brother. “You think this is funny, don’t you?”

  He grinned — her brother who never smiled — so wide his face should have split. “To Dudley,” he said, raising his beer.

  “To Dudley,” she said with a shrug. She was still the decoy. Even if she was being protected every step of the way, she was a part of the team.

  “Rummy,” Jason said, setting his perfect hand down on the carpet. “You owe me eight million dollars, Minnie.”

  “I’m currently unemployed so I hope you’ll take an I.O.U. Jason,” she said, shuffling the cards for the next round.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “I swear if you don’t start making some noise when you move, I’m gonna hang a bell around your neck,” Minnie addressed the silent-footed man who had just materialized beside her in the kitchen, startling her. She tightened her grip on her magazine and drink. Over the last week, they had been joined in the penthouse by a few large, quiet-spoken, quiet-moving men with serious eyes who were clearly trying to stop her heart by sneaking up on her. Rocco had some important deal in play so he was absent a lot. Jason was away at school for most of the day.

  Gage — they mostly had one-syllable names — spoke. “I’m sorry, Ma’am. I just wanted a Coke out of the fridge.” He leaned past her, moving with exaggerated slowness, to open the steel-clad fridge and extract his drink.

  “Call me Minnie,” she said, but knew he wouldn’t. Her Black-Ops babysitters all called her ma’am. And none of them looked at her with anything less than total objective professionalism. It was enough to send any ex-model into a depressive spiral. She had lost her mojo along with her career.

  Gage left the kitchen as quietly as he had entered it. Minnie continued her interrupted path to the big table in the corner of the kitchen. The sun checkered the cream table with light. Minnie slumped into a seat, setting her Vogue magazine and kale smoothie in front of her. A large stick of celery stuck out of her smoothie.

  She was flipping through her Vogue, sipping on her smoothie, when Big Mike came into the kitchen. She perked up. He always kissed her when he caught her alone. She had spent a lot of time, the last week, trying to be alone near him. Her Black-Ops babysitters glided in silently, behind him. Kane, Gage and Dudley. Minnie slumped back into her seat. Big Mike never kissed her in front of his men.

  Her eyes fell on the furled paper tube under Big Mike’s arm. Her gloom deepened. “Not again?” she said, her eye roll in her voice.

  “Again,” he said. His face was impassive of course, but his eyes were warm.

  “How much preparation do you need?” She was going to go mad if she was interred here much longer. “Jason Bourne never spent hours pouring over maps.” She slurped her drink. “James Bond was ready for action after a brief discussion with M and Q.”

  “Walmart doesn’t stock C-4,” Big Mike said patiently, as if he hadn’t said the same thing to her every time she had complained about the slow pace of their assault, over the last week. But she knew the C-4 had arrived days ago — it was on top of the fridge. Her brother had left days ago. He was organizing a meeting between the Hell’s Crew leadership and the TDR leadership. It was supposed to take place at TDR’s island headquarters. It was a ruse to get the TDR people to congregate on the island, but it had to look real so a gang of Hell’s Crew bikers were already riding east.

  Big Mike dropped the map on the table and let it unfurl automatically. Minnie lifted her Vogue and drink, waited for the map to unroll the length of the table and then set them back on top of it.

  “From the top,” Big Mike said, looking at her expectantly.

  “It’s so complex, I’ve forgotten my part in this…” she said, crunching her celery.

  Kane, Gage and Dudley waited.

  “Minnie…” Big Mike said, a warning in his voice.

  “Okay, okay.” She straightened in her seat and leaned over the map. It was bisected by a river and a small island in the river. She stabbed her finger onto a line leading to the river. “I approach the TDR clubhouse via this dirt road.” Big Mike lifted her finger and repositioned it a few inches away on a different line. Undaunted, she continued, “I make sure I look so hot that every TDR guard hidden in the trees exposes himself.” She snorted, “I mean… reveals himself.”

  “And if you feel threatened?” Big Mike prompted.

  “I hit the ground, curl up, shut my eyes and you blow their heads off.”

  “That’s my girl,” Big Mike said. “Mad and bad.”

  She wasn’t his girl. Yet. Minnie watched him while he went through the rest of the plan. He wore jeans, a black t-shirt and biker boots. The muscles in his forearms corded and striated as he jabbed at the plan, the gesture punctuating his quiet instructions. The TDR headquarters was an abandoned railway depot. The unique feature was that it was on an island in the middle of a fast-flowing river, the only access, an old wooden railway bridge. It was easy for TDR to defend. But it was equally easy to maroon them there, if someone removed the bridge. Place C-4 under bridge. Bang. Call FBI to pick up scumbags marooned with incriminating evidence. It was so simple that chimps on crack could do it.

  “I might lie around the pool,” she interrupted Big Mike, stirring her smoothie with her celery stick.

  Big Mike, Kane and Gage didn’t even look up from the map, their fingers tracing elevated positions either side of the road. But Dudley looked up, brightening. “I thought I saw a lesser-spotted nitwit out there earlier, Minnie. Be sure to keep an eye out. It’s easy to mistake it for the great spotted nitwit except it has grey markings on its chest. Not white. That’
s an important distinction.”

  She was pretty sure he didn’t use the word ‘nitwit’ but sometimes that was all she heard when Dudley went on and on about birds. Blah, blah, nitwit, blah, blah.

  Then she realized he was waiting for her to respond. “Sure Dudley,” she said. It was lowering. She was an ex-model announcing she might lie at the pool half-naked and no-one was interested. Not even Big Mike. She wondered if she could stab her eyes out with her celery stick. Why was she even eating celery — there was no point keeping an eye on her figure if no-one else did?

  Big Mike finished his recap of their plan while she stared unseeing at her Vogue and contemplated the demise of her career. Big Mike moved her magazine and drink from the map before he rolled it up. He handed it to Kane. He jerked his head at the men and they left. Big Mike dropped into the chair beside her. She stirred her drink with her celery stick.

  “That looks as if you blended a frog.”

  “It’s kale.”

  His grimace indicated his opinion of her drink. His fingers toyed with her hair. “Bored?”

  “I am going to go insane if you lock me up here much longer. Michael, you need to blow up that bridge tonight, do you hear me?” She leaned over and kissed him. He made a sound of approval, deep in his throat and lifted her from her seat onto his lap, cuddling her close. She relaxed against him enjoying the feeling of him surrounding her.

  “No sunbathing,” he said.

  “Nobody cares. Dudley wants me to look for a lesser-spotted dimwit.” Maybe she wouldn’t feel so neglected if he held her like this more often. “It’s too chilly, anyhow.”

  He laughed. “Dudley put his weapon down in the middle of a firefight in Fallujah because he spotted some rare bird and he wanted to write up the details.” He nuzzled her neck. She tilted her head obligingly. He brushed his nose against her skin and inhaled her scent. “We’re doing it tonight.”