Threat: A Blood Riders MC Novel (Book 1)

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Threat: A Blood Riders MC Novel (Book 1) Page 11

by Tia Lewis


  “Yeah, this is one of the better mornings I’ve seen.” I looked around for something to bang on and decided to use my voice, instead. I cupped my hands around my mouth and took a deep breath.

  “Oh, no. Come on. Don’t be cruel. Let them sleep,” Bree whispered.

  “They deserve it. It’ll teach them not to drink so fucking much—remember, I live here. This is like my house.” I took another deep breath and shouted, “Wake up everybody! Good morning!” Bree covered her ears, but she giggled, too.

  “Oh, go to fucking Hell.” That sounded like Creed. Sure enough, his head popped up from behind one of the sofas.

  “Good morning! How is everybody? Come on, rise and shine. Up and at ‘em. This is my fucking house, you lazy pieces of shits. Get off the floor, come on. Get up! All of you. I need to be able to walk through.” I helped Bree get through the bodies, stepping over the ones that just wouldn’t move. Ace hadn’t flinched once. Bree nudged him with the toe of her boot, and he finally snorted and opened his eyes.

  “Whew. I was afraid you were dead,” she smiled.

  “I think I am,” he groaned. She clucked her tongue in sympathy. I didn’t have any sympathy.

  “Come on,” she said, going to the cooler behind the bar. “Let’s give them all some water.”

  “Water, hell. They need more liquor to help them feel better.” I heard a lot of groaning behind me, and I grinned at Bree. She only shook her head, pulling her long hair into a ponytail before she bent over the cooler. I could watch her do that all day, no problem. She came up with fists full of cold bottled water and passed them to me.

  “Hand them out. The water should help flush out all the alcohol,” Bree ordered, shooing me away. I did what she asked, even though I thought it was a waste of time. Half of them were probably too hung over to hold down water and would probably vomit at the thought of drinking any kind of liquid right now.

  Darcy came stumbling out of the kitchen. “Jesus. I slept on the dining room table last night.”

  Bree laughed. “You didn’t have a bed upstairs you could use?”

  “Sure, but I didn’t think I could make it all the way up the stairs.” She climbed onto a bar stool, groaning. “I think I died.”

  “You’re not the only one,” I said, kicking Phil as gently as I could. He was between two girls, all three of them passed out. I fought the urge to pour cold water over all of them. I didn’t think Bree would be a big fan of that.

  “How come you guys are in such good moods? Didn’t you drink?” Darcy looked at me, then at Bree, pushing tangled black hair out of her eyes. Then, she got it. “Ohh! Okay. Well, well, well.”

  “Cut it,” I said, shooting her a look.

  She held up one hand. “Hey, I understand. You had more important things to do than drink and party with us. More power to you.” She held up a bottle of water, burped quietly and took a long drink. Bree could only chuckle, shaking her head. Our eyes met, and her cheeks turned crimson red.

  We spent an hour clearing the place out. Most of the guys and girls that were in terrible shape went upstairs to finish sleeping it off. Others went home if they felt okay enough to ride. I was glad we had so many beds. At least it helped keep the lounge clear.

  Finally, the asshole that puked in the bathroom came stumbling out. “Richie. I should have known, man. You fucking idiot. Why did you drink so much? You’re a lightweight.”

  “Hey,” Bree said defensive. She only treated him that way because she didn’t know him. Like she was his guardian angel or something, just because he had a thing for her. She took him a bottle of water as he leaned against a pinball machine.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled. Bree patted him on the shoulder, and then helped him up the stairs to a spare room. When she came back down, she was shaking her head at me.

  “You are so mean to him. Give the kid a break,” she said, with her hands on her hips.

  “He’s a fuck-up,” I replied. “Throwing up with the door open, making all that obnoxious noise. Ruining my morning.” I gave her a meaningful look, remembering how much fun we were having when he interrupted.

  “Yeah, well I’m sure you’ve been in bad shape before, too.”

  “No comment.” She grinned, shaking her head again, and put her arms around my neck.

  “He just wants to be like you. You know that, right? He looks up to you.”

  “I know. But he can’t, because I’m me. I’m the luckiest son of a bitch alive.” The funny part was, when I looked into her big, nearly green eyes, that was how I felt. She made me feel lucky for the first time in my life.

  Then she frowned, breaking the moment. “Well, I need to go home and get some things. If I have to wear these damned boots for another minute, I swear I’m going to cry. I’m gonna need to get a cab. I can’t walk like this.”

  I wanted to laugh, but when I saw the pain on her face, I stopped. “I could take you home,” I offered.

  She shook her head, eyes wide. “No, thank you. If Mom sees you, she’ll lose her mind.”

  “Oh? Why?”

  Bree shrugged. “It’s a long story. Suffice it to say, it’s okay for her to run around like a whore, but God forbid she sees me come home with somebody on a motorcycle. No offense.”

  “None was taken,” I said. “I get it. A hypocrite. Typical parent.”

  “Yeah, typical. So I’ll be back in like an hour or so. No big deal. I’m gonna shower there, get some more clothes together and grab a bite to eat.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “I mean … if you want me to stay, that is.”

  Did I want her to stay? My cock grew just from me thinking about it. I wasn’t sure I could do without her anymore. Her body, her scent, the sultry sound of her voice. She had me under a spell, plain and simple. I didn’t know who I was anymore. Me, the guy who fucked ‘em and left ‘em.

  “Of course, I want you to stay,” I admitted. “I want you to come back and stay with me.”

  “I can do that.” She smiled, and my heart stopped beating like a speeding train. She didn’t think I was a pussy for asking her to stay. “As long as you don’t think I’m a spy for another club or anything.”

  “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

  “Probably not.” She grabbed her cell phone from her back pocket to call a cab, and I waited with her until it got there.

  “I’ll be right back, Drake,” she promised as she climbed in. I waved as she pulled away.

  Then I hurried to my motorcycle. “Yo, man. Where are you going?” Ace asked as he watched me climb on. I didn’t answer him. I didn’t have the time, and I wasn’t in the mood to hear him make fun of me for following her like I’m some weak pussy-whipped loser. I needed to keep an eye on her. I didn’t know why—maybe because of the war with the Cobras, perhaps because she was still kind of skittish when I asked her anything about herself. I wanted to see what she was holding back.

  I followed at a decent distance, keeping the bright yellow cab in my view at all times. We went further and further until we were out of Jamaica, Queens and into a nicer part of the borough. Didn’t she say she was from the neighborhood? Where the hell was she going?

  I waited at the end of the block when she climbed out of the cab, then pulled up to the house she ran into. A pretty nice looking rowhome with a small lawn and a fence in front. Not anything like the way I grew up, the way a lot of people grew up where I came from. It wasn’t the Ritz, but when I was a kid her street would be thought of as a wealthy neighborhood. She was practically a rich kid if she grew up there.

  I didn’t know what to think. Bree told me she came from the neighborhood, but we were out in Murray Hill. What was her story? I didn’t like thinking that I had slept with a deceptive woman who couldn’t be honest with me. I had been honest with her—more honest than I’d been with a woman, ever. She owed me that much.

  I waited, watching her neighbors as they went about their day. There weren’t many of them out there—it was Wednesd
ay afternoon, so most of them were probably at work. It was an upper-class neighborhood, nicer than Jamaica, Queens, for sure, and the houses were all taken care of. Including hers.

  Who was she?

  I waited almost an hour, hoping none of the neighbors would call the cops. I knew I stuck out like a sore thumb. Big Harley-Davidson motorcycle, black leather vest, tatted body. Then, a cab pulled up in front. She was ready to leave. I waited for her to come out, deciding to let her know I was onto her. I would be able to tell by her reaction if she was scared that I knew the truth.

  The door opened, and out she came. First, she saw the cab and went to it after locking the door behind her. Then, I cleared my throat.

  “Hey. What are you doing here?” I asked. Her eyes almost bulged out of her head when she saw me sitting there on my bike.

  13

  Nicole

  I thought I might die of surprise. It was so nice to be home, where I could relax and be myself without having to be “Bree” all the time. It had taken a little time to get back into the mindset to return to the clubhouse.

  And there was Drake.

  “Hey.” Be Bree. Be Bree. I walked down the stairs, wearing black flats instead of boots because my feet genuinely couldn’t handle the heels after being in them all day. I had blisters on my blisters. But my outfit still screamed “biker trash”—something I’d pulled together after seeing all the women at the party. A short black skirt, pink tank top, white bra straps sticking out. I always hated that look, but they seemed to like it, and I wanted to be like them.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked again.

  “I should be the one asking you that question,” I countered, leaning against my front gate. I wanted to die.

  “No, you shouldn’t. I only followed you here to make sure you were safe. You made it sound like you live in Hell. Then I come here, and you live in this quiet affluent neighborhood on a nice street, in a nice house. What’s really happening here?” He looked confused, angry, his eyes flashing. I saw the muscles jumping in his cheek as he tried to control himself.

  I thought fast. “This is my aunt’s house. Remember, I told you I lived with her for a while? I forgot I left my backpack here, and some of my clothes. I sort of left in a hurry.”

  “Why the hurry?”

  I sighed, thinking again. “My cousin is bad news and not someone I want to be around with. I told you he just got out, right? Well, he was in prison for—rape.”

  “Rape? Wow.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it. He’s not the kind of guy I wanna be around, you know? The minute he got home, I left. So I came back to get my stuff since I know he works at some place the halfway house hooked him up with during the day.”

  “Oh, I see.” Did I convince him? I wasn’t sure. “So, is your aunt at home?”

  “No, she works, too. Everybody works around here, you know?” I shrugged. “Besides, if she knew I was with you, she would call my mom and all hell would break loose.” I looked around like I was scared—honestly, I was afraid. I didn’t want the neighbors seeing me dressed like a skank, much less talking with a biker in front of my house. I waved the cab on, making an executive decision in a hurry. “Can I get a ride back with you?”

  “Really?” He cocked one eyebrow, making my panties melt a little.

  “Yeah, I told you, I always thought you guys were sexy on your bikes. Why wouldn’t I want to ride on one myself?”

  He grinned. “Okay. You sure you wanna try it in that skirt, though? Your skirt is super short.”

  “Oh, right.” I laughed. He had a point. “Wait here for a sec?”

  “Sure.”

  I ran back into the house and came out with my dad’s old denim jacket, which I tied around my waist. Gosh, it still smelled like him—and it reminded me why I did what I did. Get it together.

  “Is this better?” I asked, twirling. It was practically a skirt. I tucked it around my butt as I climbed onto the bike. It concealed me pretty well. Once the backpack was snugly on my back, I slid my hands around Drake’s waist. Even over my relief at getting away with lying, I felt a little thrill at the thought of riding behind him.

  “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be,” I said, laughing a little shakily.

  “You’ll be just fine. Just hold on tight and don’t screw around with my arms.” He turned over the roaring engine that echoed throughout the quiet neighborhood. The vibration between my legs was enough to make me squeal and laugh. I hadn’t expected it to be that intense of a sensation. He laughed, too, knowing exactly why I reacted the way I did.

  “Enjoy it,” he said, turning his head so I could see him grinning. Then we pulled away, and I squealed again out of surprise and a little fear. My arms tightened around his waist on their own. “You’re crushing me,” he called out.

  “Sorry!” I shouted over the engine and loosened my grip a little. He nodded. What a relief, putting distance between us and my house. I was glad I’d come up with the story about an aunt. It made more sense the more times I told it.

  As we rode, we drew a few stares. Drake was gorgeous, of course, and he rode a beautiful bike. I’ve always thought Harleys were kind of cool. I wondered why they were looking, though, since there wasn’t any admiration in the looks we got. They looked down on us both. Him for riding, me for being with him. They didn’t even know him—or me. Then again, I’d looked down on him and his type for most of my life. Even knowing him a little didn’t help me feel much better about him. I only wished he wasn’t so fucking sexy. It would be easier to imagine him or one of his friends killing my father if he wasn’t good in bed.

  You wouldn’t know he was good in bed if you didn’t sleep with him, the voice in my head reminded me in a jeering tone. You’re only making this harder for yourself. I knew I was, but just because we’d slept together didn’t mean it needed to be any harder. I knew what I was doing. I was getting justice for my father. How? I wasn’t sure of that yet. I would figure that out when the time came when I got one of them to admit that they’d done it. Until then, I would need to keep getting closer to the various members of the Club.

  I pushed all thoughts of justice from my brain as we rode, letting myself enjoy the ride. I could see why he loved it the way he did. There was a sense of freedom a person couldn’t feel while sitting behind the wheel of an automobile. Refreshing and exhilarating are the words that come to mind. I felt the cool wind in my hair, on my skin. The sunshine. A connection to the road. And to the man in front of me. I wouldn’t feel the same if we were sitting side-by-side. I felt like his woman.

  His woman. I wasn’t his woman. I was my own woman. And the minute I knew what happened to my father, I’d be gone without a second glance. Adios.

  We stopped at a red light. “How do you like it so far?” Drake asked over the rumble of the engine.

  “I love it!” I laughed.

  “I’ll have to teach you how to ride.” My arms tightened reflexively, and he laughed. “Okay, maybe not yet.”

  “Maybe not ever.” I wasn’t sure I could control all that metal at once. I much preferred riding with him to the idea of controlling the bike myself.

  We were both laughing when the light turned green, and we pulled ahead. Then, just as we got through the intersection, the blare of a police siren.

  “Oh, fuck.” I heard him say it over the engine. “Don’t let that be for us.”

  Don’t be for us. Don’t be for us. What could the police want with us? He wasn’t speeding. We’d gone through a green light. Still, I glanced over my shoulder to find a flashing light just behind us. Drake muttered a handful of creative curses before pulling off to the side of the road.

  “Man, what the hell do they want?” he asked, glancing in the mirror as he turned off the engine. “I wasn’t doing anything. It’s not even a real cop car.”

  I looked behind us again. “No, it’s a detective,” I said absentmindedly. “They drive the regular cars with the dome lights.”

 
; “How do you know that?”

  “Doesn’t everybody?” I left it there. I had to stop giving myself away like that. Wait. A detective? Oh, shit. Please, don’t let them know my father. Please, please. Oh, hell, what am I doing? I didn’t have much time to figure out the answer to my question before I saw a familiar figure in front of me. Oh, God. Why?

  The detective looked at Drake, not noticing me at first. “Hey, Drake. It’s a beautiful day, huh?”

  “Yeah, not as hot as yesterday. What’d I do this time?” He sounded defeated, exhausted. I wondered if he got pulled over a lot. I wondered if I would be able to control my bladder.

  “Nothing,” the detective admitted. “I just wanted to talk to you, and I don’t usually see you in this neighborhood so I thought I’d ask you to pull over.”

  “What? Am I not allowed to ride around here?”

  “No, I didn’t say that.”

  “Then what’s going on? You could just call me, you know?”

  The detective snickered then turned to me. My eyes were wide, begging, pleading. Please don’t give me away! I shook my head ever so slightly. Don’t act like you know me, my eyes pleaded. Please, please.

  “New girlfriend?” he asked, grinning at me. Oh, thank you, sweet baby, Jesus. I relaxed my shoulders.

  “She’s just a girl. One of my new friends.” The detective laughed at Drake’s blithe response.

  “I see.”

  “Yep. So—Is that it?” Drake asked.

  “Tell me. She wouldn’t happen to know anything about how my friend got killed a while back, would she?”

  “Man, is that what this is about?” Drake asked, his shoulders slumping. “Look, I already told you I don’t know what happened to him. He was a pain in the ass, but none of us had any reason to kill him. Okay? That’s all I can tell you, and that’s all I know.”

  I was close to tears, and the detective noticed. “Miss, why don’t you come over here with me for a minute?”

  “Why do you want her?” Drake questioned with a snarl in his voice. I put a hand on his shoulder.

 

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