“Why, Dog? Killing one of your brothers worth that much money?” Blaze asked.
Dog chuckled and the hair on my neck lifted. “Brothers? Pfft. You want to turn the club into a bunch of pansy ass bitches who raise money for the homeless and bake cookies for the elderly. That’s not our style, bro. Diesel didn’t have the balls to take care of you long ago. You were a threat from the beginning with your modern beliefs of walking the straight line. If he’d stuck you in the grave, hell, he might be alive today. But his loss is my gain.” Finished with tying them up, Dog stood, his knees cracked. “Daisy, you stay here with them while I go and get the money.”
Her gaze turned to slits. “What? I’m not staying here. We both go,” she murmured.
Dog shook his head and rubbed his chin. “Don’t work that way, baby. Someone’s gotta stay here with them and make sure they stay in the rope.”
“It won’t be me. We both get the money, remember,” she argued.
“Are you saying you don’t trust me?” Dog frowned dramatically. “That hurts me. About as much as you fucking the gym teacher from that school.”
Daisy grimaced. “I’ll go find the money and come back and get you,” she offered.
Dog chuckled and he shrugged a broad shoulder. “You drive a hard bargain, baby.” In the blink of an eye, he turned the gun and shot her in the head. A look of shock spread over her expression as she fell to her knees, then onto her back with her legs wedged underneath her.
A scream sliced through the air and I realized it was me. I stared at Daisy, sprawled on the wood floor, her arms flung out beside her still body. Blood oozed from the gaping wound, quickly covering her face, then puddling underneath her. It flowed like molasses toward my feet. I pulled my knees against my chest, pushing against Blaze as fear and disbelief raged through my veins. “Blaze,” I yelled.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s all right.” Blaze’s voice calmed me—some. He moved a few feet across the floor, taking me with him. “Turn your head and close your eyes.”
I did what he asked, squeezing my eyes shut. I could feel sticky wetness soaking into my socks. I whimpered and bit my bottom lip. I wanted to scream, but I knew Dog would shoot us faster.
“You bastard,” Blaze’s deep voice vibrated my back. “Why the fuck did you do that?”
I didn’t look. I remained still, fearing for Blaze’s and my safety. Dog was delusional and psychotic. I knew he’d do anything. He planned to shoot us.
“Any last words you two want to say to each other?” His bitter laugh made my stomach roll. “Sayonara, suckers.”
I heard a crashing sound, then a loud crack. I opened my eyes as Dog fell face first into the floor, a red patch on the back of his head.
Agent Peterson rushed into the room, his gun still drawn. “Good thing I’m a good shot,” Peterson joked. “I got your message that you needed to speak with me and I stopped at the bike shop. They told me you flew out, saying something about Rena being in trouble. I followed my instinct.”
“Could you have been any slower in helping us?” Blaze blew out a long breath. “Can you get us out of here?” Blaze demanded.
Peterson nodded. “I’ll get a knife…”
“Have one in my boot. It’ll do the job.”
I listened to rustling and felt the rope loosen until it dropped to my waist. Blaze pulled out of the rope first, dragging me into his arms. “You alright, baby?” he whispered in my ear.
“Yes, I’m okay. Unbelievably okay now.” I leaned into his arms and there I found all of the safety I could ever need.
“You two will have to come with me. I have some questions I need to ask you both,” Peterson said.
“What’s more to say, Peterson? You have Diesel’s killers, dead. They found out I had them on surveillance tape. What they thought was a private conversation at the compound turned into a confession. They killed Diesel. They were going to kill Rena and me to get rid of any possible witnesses. You’ll find the tape, with the confession, on my desk at the bike shop.” Blaze still held me close.
I absorbed the information, but didn’t say a word.
Peterson shrugged. “I hear you. But I still have to ask Miss Rose some questions.”
“Tonight? Hasn’t she been through enough?” Blaze wasn’t easing off.
“Fine. I’ll catch up with you two tomorrow, you hear?” Peterson shook his head and took out his cell, calling someone and dishing out a number of commands.
I practically ripped off my blood-soiled socks, tossing them to the side. “Can we get out of here now?”
Peterson nodded and mouthed, “Tomorrow.”
”You didn’t tell Peterson about the money?” I asked once we were in my car and headed toward the shop.
“No, and we won’t. It’s Tia’s money.”
“Do you think he suspects we have it?”
Blaze shrugged. “There’s no paper trail. He can suspect all he wants.” He looked at me. “Now don’t cry. Remember how I am about tears. I’ll have to lick them. One by one. As desirable and tempting as that sounds, we can’t do anything until we take a shower and wash this evening from our bodies.”
“You saved my life, Blaze. I knew you would.”
“I think we owe Peterson,” he said.
“Sure, but if you hadn’t shown up, I’d be dead now. I know I would be.” My throat hurt.
“If anything would have happened to you…” His voice hitched.
“It didn’t. And that’s what matters.” I lifted his hand and kissed the back of his knuckles.
“We have a lot to talk about. I think you should take the job in Italy. I don’t want you to miss out on anything.”
My heart slammed into my stomach. What was he saying? He wanted me to leave.
I turned my cheek and stared through the window at the lights twinkling in the dark night. “I was thinking the same thing myself.” A single tear fell to my cheek and I swiped it away.
EPILOGUE
Two months later…
I relaxed into the wicker chair on the patio and stared into the rain as it pelted the small town of Poppi. I could see the landscape for miles from my position in the quaint villa I rented when I got to Italy.
I placed my book on the small glass table next to the chair. I liked my job at the private school, and Poppi too, but I missed home, especially Blaze.
I laid my head back and my mind wandered to him. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen him in eight weeks. Eight long, hellish weeks. Loneliness had set in. I wanted his arms wrapped around me.
I understood that he had a business, a life back home. We had decided to try a long distance relationship, but I was failing, miserably.
My cell chimed and I reached for it. A text message.
I hurried and pushed the view button.
“Rena. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to answer your call earlier. I’m swamped here at the shop. Miss you. Blaze.”
Tears filled my eyes and I sniffed them back. I hovered my fingers over the keyboard, planning a perky message, pretending I was doing fine.
Movement through the rain caught my attention. I could see someone walking along the grassy knoll. Who would be taking a stroll in this weather?
The silhouette got closer and his walk looked familiar.
I held my breath. It couldn’t be possible. Could it?
I jumped up from the chair, going to the edge of the flowerbed, staring through the rain.
Blaze.
I dashed down the pebbled walkway, running across the wet grass. He held out his arms and I jumped into them, wrapping my legs tight around his hips. I kissed every part of his face—his eyelids, his forehead, his cheeks, his chin and lips. It had felt like forever since I’d seen him.
“Hi, baby,” he said happily.
I unwrapped myself from his body and pulled back an inch. His hair was a little shorter. His goatee was gone, and so was the leather cut, exchanged for a nice button down and a pair of dark jeans. He looked like a tourist
. He was heaven to my eyes. I never wanted to be apart from him again.
“You’re here,” I whispered.
“Did you doubt me?” He threaded his fingers through my hair.
“You did text me seconds ago and pretended you were at home, busy with work. That’s a terrible joke.” I playfully pinched him on the arm. “And what are you doing here? What about the shop?”
“Forgive me for the text? I had to try out my international texting plan.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “And I wanted to come sooner, but the sale of the shop got caught up in paperwork. But I’m free now.”
“You sold the shop?” I couldn’t believe my ears.
“I can’t run a business from Italy, can I?” He winked.
“You’re going to stay here with me?”
“If that’s okay?”
“Are you sure this is what you want? You’re giving up so much for me.” Love blossomed inside of me for this man.
“Baby, there’s nowhere in this world I’d rather be. I can open a bike shop anywhere in the world, but I can never find another you. I think I’m going to like this place. The cab dropped me off a mile down the road and pointed in the direction I needed to go. It’s peaceful and quiet.” He scanned the area, smiling from ear to ear.
“It is nice here. The only thing missing was you.” I stood on my tiptoes and threw my arms around his neck, squeezing. “I’ve missed you more than you’ll ever know.”
“Hey, I have something for you.”
I drew back. “You do?” Excitement gurgled in me.
“What type of man would I be without bringing a gift?” He lifted a brow and lowered his bag off his shoulder.
“You did bring a gift. The best one ever. You.”
“Then let’s call this a gift for us both.” He reached into the pocket of the bag and withdrew a small velvet box. He popped it open and a diamond glinted like a hundred mini lights from the satin nest. “I want you for life, baby. Will you be mine forever?”
I wiped the wet hair stringing in my eyes. “Are you asking me to marry you?” My voice sounded like it was coming through a pipe.
“Yes. I am.” He wagged his brows.
“Then yes, I will.”
He took the ring from the box and slid it onto my finger. It fit perfectly, just like our love. “Now I want to make love to my soon-to-be-wife.”
“I think you’ll like the bed. It’s tiny, like yours back home.” I laughed.
“I love you, Rena,” he whispered.
“I love you too.”
The End.
From the author:
Thank you for reading. Please leave a review and like my author page. http://www.amazon.com/Rhonda-LeeCarver/
Hugs,
Rhonda Lee Carver “Writing Men Who Love to Get Their Hands Dirty…”
At an early age, Rhonda fell in love with romance novels, knowing one day she’d write her own love story. Life took a short detour, but when the story ideas were no longer contained, she decided to dive in and write. Her first plot was on a dirty napkin she found buried in her car. Eventually, she ran out of napkins. With baby on one hip and laptop on the other, she made a dream into reality—one word at a time.
Her specialty is men who love to get their hands dirty and women who are smart, strong and flawed. She loves writing about the everyday hero.
When Rhonda isn't crafting sizzling manuscripts, you will find her busy editing novels, blogging, juggling kids and animals (too many to name), dreaming of a beach house and keeping romance alive. Oh, and drinking lots of coffee to keep up with her hero and heroine.
I hope you’ve enjoyed Leather for Two
For other titles by Rhonda Lee Carver, please visit:
www.rhondaleecarver.com
Find me on Facebook, too!
www.facebook.com/rhondalee.carver
Other books by Rhonda Lee Carver
Diamond in a Rose
Double Dare
Delaney’s Sunrise
Second Chance Cowboy (Book 1, Second Chance Series)
Second Ride Cowboy (Book 2, Second Chance Series)
Second Round Cowboy (Book 3, Second Chance Series)
Second Dance Cowboy (Book 4, Second Chance Series)
Second Song Cowboy (Book 5, Second Chance Series)
Second Burn Cowboy (Book 6, Second Chance Series)
Second Hope Cowboy (Book 7, Second Chance Series)
Castle’s Fortress
Dreaming Ivy
Friends With Benefits
Sin With Cuffs
With Honor
Wicked Pleasures (Book 1, Wicked Wolves Series)
Wicked Lust (Book 2, Wicked Wolves Series)
Fighting Flames
UNDER PRESSURE (Book 1, Rhinestone Cowgirls)
PRESSURE RISING (Book 2, Rhinestone Cowgirls)
Under the Mistletoe
Cowboy Paradise (Cowboys of Nirvana)
Watch for…
Pressure Point (Book 3, Rhinestone Cowgirls) Coming April 2015!
Have you read Pressure Rising? Here’s Chapter One…
Pearl couldn’t believe her ears!
“Let me get this straight.” She wrapped her arms over her waist and eyed Scrawny with a narrowed gaze. “You’re telling me you caught Pugly with Charmin?” She slammed the gate to the corral shut.
Scrawny bobbed his head and scratched his scraggly beard with his dirt-encrusted fingernails. “Yes, ma’am. They were doing the dirty, yes-siree, they were.”
“I’m going to kill him!” Icy fingers marched down her spine. She’d had enough!
“Who? Pugly?”
“No, that son-of-a-gun DJ Walters. How many times have I told him to keep that donkey off this property? I swear he does this on purpose.” She kicked up dirt with the toe of her boot. “I knew I’d only have trouble with that scoundrel. I’ve dealt with him for years and my patience has come to the very last thread! Just last week I was checking the mail and he drove his truck through a mud puddle, splashing me. Can you believe that? I bet if he was looking down the barrel of a shotgun he wouldn’t be so arrogant.”
Scrawny laughed but Pearl kept a straight face. This wasn’t a bit funny! His eyes widened and his jaw clicked. “You aren’t serious, are you, ma’am?”
“Very!” she snapped. “I should have done something about that man long before now.”
“Come on, Pearl. Don’t go high-tailin’ it over to Walter’s R&R and get yourself into trouble, ya hear?” His thin bottom lip trembled. As a ranch hand at the Rhinestone Ranch, Scrawny was always attempting to keep the peace with Pearl and her sisters. Pearl almost felt sorry for the older man because she knew they never made it easy for him.
But she couldn’t go on as things were.
She had every right to feel the wrath toward DJ Walters and was tired of his shenanigans!
Tightening her hands into fists, her nails dug into her palms. “Will you finish feeding Charmin for me, Scrawny? There’s something I have to do.”
“Rethink this, Pearl. Nothin’ is ever solved in anger.”
She ignored him, turned, and stomped toward the truck. She slipped behind the wheel and slammed the door so hard that the metal rattled. Turning the key, the engine roared alive and she cranked the window down. Sweat beaded on her upper lip and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” she yelled across the yard to Scrawny who was shaking his head.
She threw the gear into drive and sank her foot into the gas pedal. The large tires kicked up gravel and dust as she steered down the narrow lane causing several hands to look up in curiosity as she sped by them.
Satan DJ had falsely accused her of trying to run him over before, but he just might see how capable she was now. The man had no ethics and she understood just how far he’d go to send her blood pressure spiking.
Pearl reached the main road just as Em, the youngest Rhinestone sister, was pulling in. She stopped and waved.
“No time to talk
, Em. I have something pressing to do.” Pearl wasn’t sure that Em heard her, but she couldn’t chance that her sister would convince her not to pay DJ a visit.
Turning right, Pearl drove to the lane on the neighboring property. She looked at the hanging metal sign, Walters’s R&R, and sighed. It was new, which meant DJ’s business was doing good. She guessed there was no chance he would take his R&R somewhere else—across the country preferably.
She cursed as she drove the bumpy, gravel road. Her teeth clanked and clattered, which made the ache at her temples turn to throbbing. She couldn’t believe with all the brawny Walters brothers, not one could fix the dang sink holes. Apparently, they couldn’t build a fence either to keep their damned donkey in. Her anger grew to massive proportions.
By the time she pulled up in front of the two story, white farmhouse she was still steaming. Her knuckles ached from holding the steering wheel for dear life.
She was going to teach DJ a lesson, once and for all! Every chance he got, he pushed Pearl to her limits and she was sick of his pestering ways. If he wanted her furious, then he would get just that—or more.
Grabbing the shotgun from the window rack and not thinking of the danger of carrying heat, she darted from the truck and stomped up the flower-lined sidewalk. She had an urge to kick one of the peonies from the dirt, but she had an appreciation for the neat and pretty landscaping of the property.
“I usually find a woman who carries a gun sexy as hell, but you just ruined that fantasy for me. What do I owe this displeasure, Pearl?”
At the sound of the thick Texas twang, Pearl stopped dead in her tracks and shot her chin upward. She came gaze-to-gaze with Satan—DJ to most folks. Her belly knotted and her knees quivered, but the anger remained burning hot. Her throat constricted. She swallowed hard and didn’t remove her gaze from his. The rocking chair creaked as he pushed himself to standing and walked across the porch, his boots pounding the wood.
Leather for Two: Wings of Steel MC Page 14