by Evelyn Glass
“Let’s get out of here,” she said, and he laughed at her, but followed her out of her small apartment.
Chapter Seven
Dean
For all the bluster and banter Dean was putting on for Emma’s benefit, his stomach was starting to swirl with worry. No call meant that something was very wrong. If they, whoever they were, knew how important Abbey and Mia were to him, why hadn’t they called to tell him what they wanted? Sure, it had been about an hour, but wouldn’t they want him to know?
It was possible that someone had figured out that he’d been a witness — in one way or another — to both of the grabs, and so they were waiting to make him frantic before calling to offer some hope. That was how he’d play it if he were the kind of shithead to run this sort of plan.
He didn’t know where Abbey was, had no clue if Mia was okay. She was big enough to tell someone about her inhaler if she needed it, right? But would they believe her? Would someone have medicine to give her? He never had to deal with her asthma on a day to day basis, just been there when she’d had a couple of mild attacks. But he knew that the attacks got worse and worse if they weren’t relieved, the lungs slowly irritating themselves more and more. Asthma killed people.
He had to forcefully push his mind away from that thought. Focusing on Emma’s impressive ass was easier. She’d undressed in front of him without the slightest hint of shame or consideration. It was like he wasn’t there. Somehow, that was a thousand times sexier than a calculated strip tease or sending him out of the room for privacy that was only about making him wonder what she looked like. Actual privacy, of course, was very different, but that faux concern thing always drove him nuts. People who stared at him from under their eyelashes, murmuring about how ugly they were in a clear attempt to get him to contradict them. That had never turned him on.
Sam had been incredibly straightforward in a time when she was punished even more fiercely for it, especially in their mellow New England city. A Black woman who didn’t put down her eyes and act demure, but also refused to be shoved into the “Angry Black Woman” stereotype had been something else, especially when he was twenty, and didn’t realize yet that those stereotypes were a thing for a reason. He’d loved her with his whole being, and sometimes he still missed her. But he’d stopped carrying a torch for her a long time ago. She was gone, and part of him would always love her. More of him would always love Mia. Though having someone in his life to love would be better than mourning the woman who’d died when he was still essentially a child.
He found himself taking a couple of quick steps to catch up to Emma, and then reaching out, taking her hand in his, and smiling. She looked startled for just a moment, surprised at the familiarity of the motion. After all, they’d traded sexual innuendo and heat, not any kind of actual attraction. But after a moment, she smiled back, settling her fingers into his grip, and adjusting her pace to match his.
It was clear that she cared about Mia. She hadn’t asked awkward questions about his life, or Mia, or why this was all happening. She just wanted to help. That was worth so much. For the first time, he felt a certain kinship with her, not just a need for the relief he thought he might find in her body, or a feeling that he had to keep her with him to make sure she didn’t call the police. Something more. It was nice. A warm, delicate feeling. He enjoyed it as they walked down to the car. She slid into the Buick with the same reverence he had. He liked that, too.
He drove them across town. At some point, he needed to pick up his bike from the clubhouse. He’d be able to get around town more nimbly, and it would be simpler. He could trade out his plain leather jacket for the one with the club colors and brand. He hadn’t worn it racing, just in case some random cop with a hard on for extra-judiciary justice saw him at the gravel pit and decided to express his displeasure, but for whatever came next? He thought it might be necessary. To show that he was “not the man with whom to fuck” (as the old movie quotation went).
The Night Titans Clubhouse was, as so many club hangouts were, located just behind the garage that he and Connell had started when he got out of school. Connell had been working there for a decade already. When his old boss finally retired, the two of them managed to scrape together the money to buy the place from him. In reality, Connell had scraped together the money, and Dean had spent years owing him, working for not much money, and the apartment above the garage, as a place to sleep.
But over time, they’d worked various things out, and Connell said they were now square. Of course, Dean’s rise to VP of the club had made a difference as well. They worked together, and well, not just in the clubhouse or on the floor of the garage, but as friends. They understood each other.
When he and Emma pulled into the parking area in front of the garage, his every nerve was screaming, and not just because of the beautiful woman who had taken his hand whenever it wasn’t resting on the shifter. No, he was potentially walking into a war zone that could take his daughter’s life.
When he shut off the engine, he murmured to Emma, “Hold on a second.” He forced himself not to hurry around the car to open her door, taking his time and keeping his body relaxed. When he held the door open for Emma, his heart skittered to a brief halt. How had she changed so much in one car ride? Gone was the quiet and demure downcast eyes, the slightly reserved posture. She’d changed her makeup, but that wasn’t it. Her entire body was a statement. She looked like every girl he’d ever brought here, every girl who had ever caught his attention, and it was more than just the clothes or the curves. She looked powerful. Transformative.
She followed him across the lot and into the garage. The bay closest to the office was empty, as it often was, and Connell was sitting on a stool, with several of the other club members standing around him. A few mechanics were working on the cars in the full bays, not paying much attention. The sun was nearly down – Dean was surprised they were still working at all. Everyone looked at him evenly, neither challenging nor avoiding his gaze. That felt like a good sign. If Connell had pulled all the members in to create some sort of takedown, he doubted that everyone would be this easily committed.
Connell gave a jerky nod as Dean approached, Emma just a half pace behind him. It was interesting how she’d put herself slightly behind and to the side of him. He’d seen her body, top to bottom, while she’d been dressing in her room, and she didn’t have any ink. She could have been in combustible situations like this without ever picking up a gang affiliation, he supposed, but it seemed unlikely. At least, for his world. But right now, she seemed to be easily straddling the line between arm candy and ally, and it was just one more thing that made him fascinated by her.
“No luck yet on either of them,” Connell said, but his gaze was now locked on Emma. “You find anything?”
“Not yet,” Dean replied. “Abbey’s place has been swept. I don’t like that at all.
“No, I don’t either. You think this has something to do with the Titans?”
Dean gave a shrug that was supposed to look noncommittal. “Hard to tell. I can’t figure any other reason that someone would be after her. She doesn’t have enough money or power to attract really big attention, and she hasn’t been dating anyone recently. It’s unlikely there’s someone out there doing a snatch and grab. I’m her closest tie to anything on the dark side. What I can’t figure out is how the hell someone connected us.”
Connell gave a loose shrug that Dean realized was carefully designed to mirror his own. “I dunno, man. You do plenty for that lady and her kid.” Was there an emphasis on the word her? Maybe? It was hard to tell. Clearly, he was overanalyzing everything at the moment.
But if he didn’t want to completely blow his cover and destroy everything he’d been working for, he was going to need to at least pretend that he was cool, calm, and collected – that Abbey was just some random girl he helped out. He opened his mouth to ask Connell for suggestions on their next move, but what came out was, “Are you fucking kidding me? Stop pissing o
n me and telling me it’s raining.”
There was an ugly skidding noise that made Emma flinch next to him as the feet of Connell’s stool scraped hard against the concrete. He didn’t so much stand as he became upright, a mean glare over his face. Dean had to fight to straighten his spine. He’d seen that ugly anger in Connell’s eyes more than once, but never before directed at him.
“I think we should take this into the office,” Connell said, his voice snapping with tension.
It wasn’t how Dean had planned to get the other man alone, but it was better than nothing. He jerked his head at Emma to tell her to follow along.
Connell shook his head. “Nope. The girl stays.”
“The girl comes,” Dean replied, then winced at his wording. The guys around him laughed, and Connell cracked the edge of a smile.
“Does she now? Well then, fine. We’ll make it a party.”
Chapter Eight
Emma
Emma watched the conversation unfold, surprised that no one was questioning her presence. What type of man was Dean? Did he regularly drag random women into this clubhouse so that they didn’t bother to ask? She’d been taunting him all afternoon, in part as a distraction to herself from how very frightened she was for Mia. And if she were entirely honest, in part because it had been a few months since she’d had satisfying sex with something that wasn’t battery run or attached to her own body. Quick encounters, brief flings, sure, but nothing that scratched her deepest itches. When he’d put her up against that wall in the bathroom, and slapped the phone out of her hands, the fear had connected with her desire and flamed through her, sending her into a surprising wash of need. She was pretty sure she’d do almost anything he asked her to do right now if it meant easing the ache that was roaring through her.
But a different kind of fear made its way inside her heart as Connell and Dean made their way towards the office. She obviously needed to follow them — staying out here wasn’t going to be any kind of solution — but she’d seen enough gangster movies and been sidelined at enough shady situations to feel really uncomfortable with stepping out of the public eye. Dean she knew and trusted, a little, but there was no one else in the room that she could say either of those things about. And while she trusted herself to talk her way out of almost any interaction, getting out of physical trouble was something very different.
She was going to have to trust Dean more.
She tried to keep her hands from shaking as she followed the two men into the office.
The door had barely closed behind them when Connell turned around, a lascivious grin on his wind-reddened face.
“Hiya, Teach,” he said, not bothering to control his gaze as he looked Emma up and down. “Dean thought he should dress you up so you’d fit in?”
She glanced over at Dean, whose expression lay somewhere between neutral and bemused. Okay, then.
She stepped up to Connell, settling herself just an inch away from his thighs. She put her hands on her hips, pushed her breasts forward and raised an eyebrow. “What in the world makes you think he picked out this outfit for me?” She put one hand on her neck and let it slip slowly down, tracing over the flesh of her upper breast, teasing past the side. His eyes stayed on her face, but he shifted a bit. “I do just fine all on my own.”
“Do you now?” His tone was teasing. “Care to prove it?”
She didn’t look at Dean this time. There was no way he’d agree that what she was about to do was a good idea, anyway. But she knew challenges and had issued more than a few in her time. She would not put money on her being Connell’s type. She’d absolutely never had a boob-intrigued person refuse to stare at her cleavage. But he wanted to see how far she’d take the game, and he needed to know that she was committed. The best line she could come up with in the non-heat of the moment was, “Let me teach you this,” which in retrospect, was awful. But she put her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. He responded, pressing his hands into the small of her back to tug her body against his, kissing back with fervor, but not touching his tongue to her lips or trying to get at her tits. He did spin her around, lifting her ass up and plopping her down on the desk. She let him, spreading her thighs wide and letting him step between them while she continued the kiss.
That was all it took for Dean to step in.
“All right, that’s enough,” he said, and Connell was pulled back, laughing. Dean stood between them, his frame crackling with tension and anger.
The motion conveniently put him between Emma’s thighs, where Connell had just been, and she laughed too. She leaned forward, wrapped her arms around Dean’s shoulders, and tugged him gently back against her.
“Don’t worry, hon,” she said, kissing Dean’s neck and feeling his answering shiver. “Connell isn’t after me. He’s just trying to unsettle you. Isn’t that right?”
Connell gave her a huge smile. “I like the Teach, Dean. Well done. She’s quicker that you are.”
Dean stiffened again, and Connell gave him a wink. It did nothing to calm the man down.
“You’re the only one who knew, Henry,” Dean said, and he spat the name like Emma’s mother would’ve dragged out her middle name. “She’s just a girl to me. Why the hell would anyone target either one of them without knowing what the truth is?”
Connell scoffed. “Come on, Dean, smarten up. I told you years ago that if you really wanted to protect either of them, you needed them to leave town and never associate with either one of them again. Set up a blind account through a lawyer. Keeping them here, in town? It doesn’t matter that people don’t know exactly —” he broke off, looking at Emma.
Dean sighed. “Yeah, she knows. There’s not much point in keeping it a secret now.”
“Okay,” Connell said. “Look. We were as careful as we could be without erasing her from your life, and I get why you weren’t willing to do that. But now we’re in a fix. You want the girl back. We need to figure out why she was taken. I’m not your leak, man. I give you my word on that.”
Emma could feel the tension all through Dean’s shoulders and back. She studied Connell for a long moment, taking in the creases around his mouth and eyes, the gentleness she thought she could see under the rough exterior. She was absolutely convinced he’d meant her no harm when he’d let her kiss him before. She didn’t know if he was gay or asexual, but he was taking care of his friend by checking her out. Given their relative ages, maybe Dean was his surrogate son or little brother. He wanted to make sure that he was okay. She liked him.
And he’d been an okay kisser for someone who clearly was just having a laugh.
“Tell me what you think,” Dean said, and he leaned back into Emma just a little. That was lovely. It felt good to ease his tension and relax his mood. She hadn’t felt like she’d accomplished much in the last few hours, although she didn’t think she’d actually been a burden.
Connell nodded. “We both felt like the race this morning was off somehow, right?”
Dean agreed. “First the bike, then Fred pulling the gun, then his reaction when I took it from him.”
“What did he say to you, anyway?”
“That he didn’t want to do it. He said something about things being bad when he got back to the clubhouse, but he didn’t say what. I reminded him that the Titans would happily patch him in if he needs out of the Scorpions, but — I dunno, Connell, I still say they’ve got something on him. He’s the wrong kind of kid for them. He doesn’t use, he hates selling, he’s too small to beat anyone up. But why would the Scorpions possibly be choosing now to come for us? We’ve existed here for years, them and us, and never really had a problem. It’s an odd decision for them to make.”
“Maybe they have more of a problem than you think,” Emma put in. Both of the men looked at her, and she shrugged. “Just because you haven’t had an external problem doesn’t mean there hasn’t been an internal problem. You could have accidentally said something that they didn’t like without realizing it. And i
f you say that this is a woman thing, I will hit both of you in the head.”
Connell snickered, and Dean didn’t say anything.
“If we’re thinking the Scorpions have something to do with all of this,” Connell said, “the next step is to set up a meeting. See what they know – if there’s something sanctioned or if someone’s gone rogue. It’s also possible, after all, that someone within their organization is trying a power grab, looking to set them and us against each other in a war and pick up the pieces over our dead bodies. You think your boy Fred might talk?”
Dean considered it a moment, then nodded. “I think it’s worth a try, anyway. I’ll give him a call.”
“Okay,” Connell said. “If you’re still leaning towards keeping the cops out of this, then I think that’s the next step. Set a meeting, set it here if you can, gravel pit if you can’t. You know what to do from there.”
“I do,” Dean said. He was quiet for a moment again, then sighed. “I just need her back, Connell. I’m gonna tell you the truth right now. I will do absolutely anything they tell me to do to save that little girl’s life.”