DON’T TOUCH MY BABY: Ricci Family Mafia

by Zoey Parker

  I resisted the urge to snort derisively, only because I was really trying to make a decent impression. If I had illegal guns on me, would I really hand them over? But I didn’t explain how stupid his statement was. Instead, I just opened my jacket to reveal that I was unarmed.

  The man didn’t look convinced but gestured towards the metal detector anyway. “The guard there will escort you to the mayor’s office.”

  I thanked him and moved through the metal detector. I had to empty my pockets and they checked my boots about a dozen times, but at least I didn’t have piercings to worry about. That would have doubled the time and I was already worried I’d be late if this got prolonged. Eventually, I was waved through and the security guard who was dressed like the dudes from Men in Black escorted me to the elevator. We went to the third floor and he took me down the hall to the office.

  We went inside and I noted the decadence of the place. Rosewood furniture. Huge, original paintings. Windows that took up practically the whole back wall. This was the lap of luxury and it sort of disgusted me. I held that in as best I could, however, since I was trying so hard to make peace.

  The mayor, an attractive older man with graying hair and a slightly bored expression that made him look arrogant and patronizing, was sitting at his desk talking on the phone. He barely even glanced over at us, continuing to speak to whoever was on the other end.

  I cleared my throat; the mayor shot me a dirty look. But he did tell whoever was on the other end, “I have to go. No, no, just a meeting. It shouldn’t take long.”

  I felt the muscle in my jaw twitch at the dismissive tone he used to refer to me, but otherwise remained calm. “Mayor Lautner,” I said formally.

  He looked me over, leaning back in his plush chair and considering. After a moment, he said, “Asher. I was a little surprised when I found you on my schedule for today.”

  That muscle twitched again at the use of my full name. No one called me that. No one had since my mother’s death. I cleared my throat, trying to keep my composure. “I suppose it’s not usually my style,” I admitted grudgingly. “But that’s why I’m here. To try to change some things. Mainly, between us.”

  I saw the mayor’s eyes narrow fractionally at me and worried he’d just toss me out right then and there. He didn’t. “I see. And what exactly do you propose?”

  Knowing this was probably my only shot at making a real case for the Anarchy’s Horsemen, I did my best to be calm, collected, and maybe even a little eloquent, though the last one was hit or miss at best.

  “The Anarchy’s Horsemen have no intention of leaving Mount Cherry. We have as much right to be here as anyone else and we’re…” I hesitated, knowing I was getting into the territory of lying but pushed forward anyway. “We’re law abiding citizens and should be treated as such.”

  He snorted and I knew suddenly that this wasn’t going to go over so well. “Really? Are you telling me you have nothing to do with the drug problem in this town?”

  I opened my mouth to ask if he was going to try to get rid of the doctors who were the real drug problem, but I snapped my mouth shut again an instant later. Saying as much would be incriminating and not useful.

  Once I’d regained my composure, I tried again. “I own a legitimate business. Black Opus hasn’t been the source of any Mount Cherry problems. Instead, we offer a specific service to people who are clearly interested—otherwise, we’d have been out of business a long time ago.”

  To my surprise, Mayor Lautner rose from his chair and let out a sigh. He looked almost tired, like a normal person. But the moment passed and then he was just himself again. He came around the desk and began to speak to the man who had escorted me down here in the first place. “Have you heard anything yet?”

  The man shook his head quickly. “No, sir. They’re still looking.”

  I felt anger strike through me until it was molten in my veins. He was just finished with me? Like that? No care or consideration. I wanted to reach out and wrap my hands around his throat, to throttle him until he turned interesting shades of blue and purple. But I resisted the impulse, reminding myself I was making an effort to be a better man.

  For Carol.

  The thought of her calmed me in a way that nothing else ever had. I took a deep breath and tried again with the mayor. “I’m not finished. I still wanted to talk about—”

  “Look, son, I’m busy. My platform is being tough on crime. You are crime. Period. It’s my promise to clean up the streets, and how am I supposed to do that if I let you and your goons run amok in my town?” He shook his head. “No. It isn’t feasible. This is an election year.”

  I clenched my hands tightly into fists, debating the wisdom of punching him in the face. I reminded myself that wouldn’t be the kind of man I was. I would do better. So, I deliberately eased my hands open. But as he tried to walk away, I couldn’t help but reach out to stop him. I grabbed him by the arm, which got the attention of that guard plenty quick. He went for what I figured to be a gun at his side, but the mayor held up a hand to halt him.

  “It’s time for you to leave, Mr. Sawyer. You never belonged in this world.”

  And with that, he motioned for the guard to have me removed. I considered resisting, forcing him to listen to what I had to say but knew there was no point. This man had never been good at listening and he had never liked me. Not from the moment he met me.

  “This isn’t over,” I told him in a low, determined voice. I wouldn’t give up so easy. “I’ll go now, but know I’ll be back.”

  I saw something like fear flash over Mayor Lautner’s face just as the guard escorted me out of the office. I had the sudden feeling like this meeting had gone a lot worse than I had anticipated and when I got to the ground floor, I shook off the guard, telling him I could find the exit on my own. I was halfway to the door when I glanced back to see the guard pushing his finger to his ear, listening to what I had to assume was an earpiece.

  Then he looked up.

  Shit.

  “Hey! Stop right there!”

  I didn’t know what I’d done wrong. In fact, I was pretty sure I’d done the whole thing right down to the whole not punching that asshole in the face, but I knew that when someone shouted at you like that, it wasn’t a good thing. He started running after me, but I was already out the door and racing down the steps towards my bike. I heard the sirens and knew then what had happened.

  That asshole called the cops!

  And it didn’t even matter that I hadn’t done anything wrong this time. They’d take whatever the mayor fed them and run with it. I couldn’t let them catch me. Hopping on my bike, I started it in a hurry and blazed down the street. I passed four cop cars going the opposite direction back towards City Hall. Once they saw me, they squealed their tires as they made a one-eighty back in my direction. I hit the gas and sped away through town.

  The next intersection found me whirring past two more cop cars that immediately fell into pursuit. But I wasn’t worried. They wouldn’t catch me.

  I ducked down an alleyway, banking a hard right once I reached the other side. I cut through the park and scared a few pigeons and some country club ladies on a picnic, but I didn’t slow down. I made it to the other side of town in record time, the sirens farther back still.

  I headed towards the highway that would take me out of town. I’d have to double back so they wouldn’t follow me home. My house was not public record and I wanted to keep it that way.

  Well, this turned out exactly as planned, I thought sarcastically as I hit the highway at ninety miles an hour.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Caroline

  Asher got back long after Rochelle and Mia had gone. It felt good to see them, but after they’d gone, I felt more confused than ever. Rochelle presented me with all the reasons to not keep the baby that I’d had coming into this whole mess. Mia seemed to be a window into my future, having done what I had been planning to do all along.

  But what do I want now? />
  I wasn’t sure, but I was beginning to think it had more to do with Asher than I ever would have guessed.

  Asher seemed a little frazzled when he got back, stressed out or something. Frowning, I went to him and put a hand on his shoulder after he’d shucked off his jacket. “Is everything okay? Did something happen at work?” I hadn’t ever felt so domesticated and was surprised to find out that part of it was sort of fulfilling.

  I’ve never had anyone enjoy having me around like this.

  He looked up at me uncertainly, considering me as his eyes slipped across my face. For once, his eyes didn’t dart down to rake over the rest of my body, and I felt like he was really looking at me. Not like I was his new sex toy, but like this was something else. Something… tender. Or even real. I wasn’t sure what that all meant, but I felt it in my chest.

  After a moment, he cracked a small smile. “Are you going to wear my shirt to the cookout?”

  I glanced down at myself in surprise, then laughed. I’d forgotten that I’d been wearing his shirt today. Looking back up at him, I smiled sweetly. “Sorry. It’s comfortable.”

  He reached for me and pulled me to him, so our bodies lined up together perfectly. His arm went around my waist, holding me there against him. He leaned down and kissed me, soft and sweet, nothing like our passionate embraces. Today, things seemed different. “It’s all right. You borrow anything of mine you want. I’ve never seen my shirt look so good on anyone before.” He winked at me then, grinning.

  I laughed again. “What can I say? I should sell men’s clothing.”

  This time he laughed and agreed. “Baby, you could sell me anything you wanted.”

  My heart fluttered a little bit at his comment and the strange, sweet way he was looking at me. It was so weird to think how quickly things were changing between us, but I wasn’t opposed to it. If anything, I liked it.

  “I’ll go change,” I said finally. “For the cookout.”

  He held me a moment longer, his eyes searching my face for something that I wasn’t sure of. Finally, he released me. “Okay. I’ll wait down here. I need to make a call.”

  I nodded, feeling breathless after his touch and his tenderness. I hurried up the stairs, glancing over my shoulder at him once. I found him staring after me, looking almost wistful. Then I hurried back to the room I was sharing with him. I hadn’t even bothered to put my clothes in the guest room he’d offered me.

  Jerking his shirt up over my head quickly, I tossed it to the side and began to undo my pants. I wasn’t sure what kind of cookout this was going to be. Of course, I realized it would be with the people who he knew, which meant predominantly if not entirely Anarchy’s Horsemen, but what did that mean really? Were women even part of the club? Or was it just girlfriends and wives? And if that were the case, how were they expected to dress?

  I could have asked Asher these questions but decided that would seem too concerned about what others would think of me. I wanted to be confident and sexy, not some little girl he had to take care of.

  Shoving down my pants, I reached for the dress I’d gotten at the store the other day. It was a compromise between my periwinkle blue dress from the first day I arrived and the darker, sexier clothing I bought with Asher when I knew I was going to stay here with him. It was a silky dark blue dress with spaghetti straps that crisscrossed in the back.

  Laid over the top of the blue was a black, shimmery mesh that was embroidered with roses along the hem and up one side to wind around one breast. It wouldn’t look as goth as I felt so much of the red and black did, but it also wasn’t the sort of thing anyone would wear to Sunday church.

  I hoped it was the right choice for an Anarchy’s Horsemen get-together.

  I grabbed the black heels I’d gotten because it was either them or boots and I didn’t think those would work with the dress. I slipped them on, dragged a brush through my hair, and touched up my makeup. When I deemed myself presentable, I headed back downstairs.

  When I reached that front hall, I didn’t immediately see him. “Asher?” I called, glancing into the kitchen. I found him there, still on the phone, fixing a cup of coffee. He looked over his shoulder at me and smiled, then he handed me the cup of coffee. I took it and mouthed a “thank you” so I wouldn’t interrupt his conversation.

  I sat at the table to wait for him and couldn’t help but overhear his half of the conversation at least.

  “Yeah, I know,” he muttered in a low voice. He didn’t sound thrilled. “It can’t be helped now.”

  What can’t be helped? I wondered. He was probably talking about the motorcycle club, I realized, and I felt a little uncomfortable all of a sudden. My entire time with Asher had been with just him, as a man. I was aware that he ran a business, or at least worked there, but that was a legitimate place, whether my father liked it or not. But the other side of that was that he was a biker. And what little I knew about motorcycles—besides them being dangerous and sexy—was that they tended to deal in illicit activities.

  Sipping at my coffee for something to do, even as it began to slosh uncomfortably in my stomach, I focused more intently on his conversation.

  “Look, Horton isn’t a problem. I’ve got him covered,” he said, sounding equal parts annoyed and dismissive. “No one’s going to follow him now. And the mayor—” He broke off hesitating, but I sat up straighter, my eyes widening a little.

  The mayor? They were talking about my father! Oh no! I hope he hasn’t realized who I am. That could ruin everything!

  I hadn’t told Asher I was Caroline Lautner, daughter of the rich Mayor Lautner, who happened to absolutely hate the Anarchy’s Horsemen. Knowing that about me didn’t seem like a good thing. They were constantly at odds, and I doubted he would think it was wise to be hooking up with the mayor’s daughter—not unless he thought it was a good swipe at my father’s character.

  No, Asher wouldn’t use me just for that, I admonished myself, though a small bit of the fear lingered.

  “You worry too much. The mayor will cool down. He just doesn’t like being approached on his own turf.” Asher paused. “Yeah, it probably was, but I can’t take it back now. Just keep a lookout. We’re still coming to the cookout. Yeah, all right. See you in twenty.”

  Asher hung up the phone and let out a sigh that sounded a little worried, a little frustrated, and very tired.

  I bit my lip to keep from asking about my father. Instead, I got up and went over to Asher. Softly, I asked, “Are you sure you want to go to that thing tonight? We can just stay home instead.”

  He looked over at me, letting his eyes trail over my body and then back up to my face. I could see desire flickering there—good to know it hadn’t disappeared—and hesitancy. Like he was considering it. Seriously, he said, “Would you rather stay? We don’t have to go.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not that. I’d really like to go. But if you’re too…” I wanted to say if you’re in too much trouble but refrained. I didn’t want him to think I’d been eavesdropping. Which of course I had been. “Too tired, we can stay in. I’ll make you something for dinner.”

  He smirked at me, pulling me against him. I wrapped my arms around him easily. “You must be the perfect woman,” he muttered against my mouth. Then he kissed me before I could say anything in response. “You ready?”

  I nodded.

  “Let’s go, then.”

  ***

  Despite wearing a dress, we took his motorcycle. It was fun to ride on the back, clutching him tightly as the wind completely messed up my hair and tugged at the fabric of my dress. It reminded me of our first night together.

  It didn’t take us long to get to the cookout, which was held in the rather large backyard of a very beat-up little house. The yard had thick grass, several trees, and surprisingly enough rose bushes that were thriving. Winston lived here, and Asher explained that, while not much of a housekeeper, he was great with plants.

  I’d laughed at that and thought of The Gentle Green Gia
nt.

  When we made it around back, the place was already pretty full. There were men and women both, the woman Asher explained were the wives and girlfriends of the Anarchy’s Horsemen. I realized instantly that I fell into that category, too. They were dressed in different ways, thankfully. Some wore leather pants, some wore short skirts, some wore dresses like me. It meant I didn’t stick out like a sore thumb, though I seemed to be the center of everyone’s attention.

  “They’re all staring at me,” I murmured, leaning up to whisper in his ear.

  He smiled and nodded. “I don’t usually come to these things with a woman.” He left it at that, but I couldn’t help but wonder if this was significant, that he was taking me. Maybe it was only because I happened to be living with him and he thought it would be rude to leave me behind. Maybe he didn’t usually have a live-in girlfriend, but if he did, he’d bring her just as easily.