by Brook Wilder
Carla could see the intent grow in Joel’s silver grey eyes, in the way his entire body tensed at Sparkplug’s words, but to her surprise, suddenly Elle was there, standing between them and snapping in front of Sparkplug’s face to draw his attention down to her. It seemed odd, that with her petite frame and short stature she could halt the violence brewing like a storm between the two men, but he instantly looked contrite.
“Look, I don’t know what weird, testosterone, chest-beating, penis-measuring thing is going on here,” Elle started and Honey snorted softly at her words. She cast him an arch look and he held up his hands in a mock gesture of innocence before she continued. “But it’s a good plan. We know that Maurice is dirty. And if we can find evidence against him, it might just be enough to clear Joel and Hot Wheels. Do you have a better plan, Mr. Muscles?”
Elle stared him down, all five feet nothing of her and Carla watched in shock as Sparkplug slowly deflated, turning back towards her with an apologetic shrug. Carla had to bite back a smile, and Honey wasn’t even trying to hide his.
“Did you bring the stuff I asked for?” Carla asked, the question directed at Elle and her friend nodded primly before picking a tote bag incongruously crocheted with flowers and birds from the floor next to her chair and handed it across the table to her.
Carla took it with a nod of thanks, dug out the phone and extended it to Sparkplug. He looked at it like she was holding a snake in her hand and she hastened to explain.
“It’s turned off right now.” When he still didn’t take it, she set it on the table and slid it across to him, “Maurice won’t be able to track it until it’s powered on, and hopefully he won’t think to check until after Elle calls him.”
Sparkplug nodded, stowing the device carefully in the inner pocket of his patch-covered leather jacket before walking towards the door. Halfway there he stopped, casting a serious glance of his shoulder.
“I’m only doing this for Hot Wheels, you know? To help her.”
Joel slowly nodded at the other man’s words, looking just as serious, “Yeah, I know.” With that, Sparkplug turned and walked out of the clubhouse and just like that the plan was in motion. There was no going back now.
“Okay Elle. Now you need to wait until Sparkplug is at least forty or fifty miles away and for me and Joel to get into position so you need to wait about forty-five minutes before you make the call.”
“Okay, well, what am I supposed to do until then?” Elle asked, her voice suddenly horrified as it dawned on her. Carla nodded slowly.
“You’ll have to wait here, with Honey. No one else will be in the clubhouse so you’ll be safe.”
“Safe? Alone with him? I don’t think so,” Elle said, her voice breathy and her cheeks flaming, but she refused to look behind her at the smirking Honey. Carla felt a moment of concern for her friend but she knew deep down, underneath the flirting and the charm, lay the heart of a good man.
“You won’t let anything happen to her?” Carla asked him, meeting his warm chocolate gaze and his expression suddenly became serious as he straightened, dropping his arms to either side as he faced her, open, exposed, and revealing more to her than she thought he meant to.
“She’ll be safe, I promise. I’ll protect her with my life,” the gleam was suddenly back in his eyes, and the regular mischievous Honey was back, “Don’t worry, Carla, nothing will happen to her that she doesn’t ask for.”
Elle drew in a harsh breath at his words and Carla hastened to speak before she could unleash the tirade that was building behind her friend’s eyes.
“Please, just, try and get through the next hour without killing each other, all right? This is too important.” Carla gave them both a scolding look until she got reluctant nods of acceptance. Only then did she pull Elle a little bit away.
“Did you bring me the other stuff that I asked for?” Carla asked quietly and Elle nodded again towards the bag.
“Yeah, it’s all there. All the clothes and everything, but…” She drew a deep breath, looking at her eye to eye, “are you sure about this? I mean, we always knew that Maurice was deranged, but this is…this is whole other level stuff.” Elle shook her head again, “I’m just worried about you, that’s all. What if he comes back? The man’s a creep, and a drug smuggler. Who knows what he’ll do if he catches you.”
“He’s not going to catch me, Elle. You have to convince him that I’m missing. You can do that, right?”
“Of course, but–”
“Listen, I know you won’t let me down. And besides, I’ll have Joel there with me. If anyone can keep me safe, he can. But if it makes you feel better, Joel got me a temporary phone. Here is the number,” Carla grabbed a bar napkin and scribbled the new number on it, handing it to her and Elle clenched it tight in her fist.
“Just promise me you’ll be careful, alright?” Elle asked with a trembling smile and Carla returned it with a quick, sidelong glance towards Honey.
“You just promise me you won’t kill Honey while we’re gone.”
That drew a laugh from Elle and she covered her mouth with a delicate hand.
“That might be asking too much,” she started, sighing at Carla’s look of reproof, “Alright, alright. I promise not to do any lasting damage.”
Carla stared at her for a moment before letting out a soft chuckle herself.
“That’s the best I’m going to get out of you, isn’t it? Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two–”
“Nothing. Nothing’s going on.” Elle hastily interrupted before throwing her arms around Carla in a short but fierce hug.
“Be careful,” she whispered before pulling away. Carla nodded once before grabbing the bag that Elle had brought and sharing one last look with everyone before taking a deep breath.
“Okay, me and Joel are going to get ready, and then it’s show time.” Joel gave her an encouraging smile but even she didn’t really believe it. Then they were turning away, walking towards the back where Joel’s apartment was and leaving Honey and Elle staring at each other as she pushed open the door to the hallway and disappeared behind it.
Chapter 32
Joel watched as Carla changed into the tight black pants and cotton t-shirt that Elle had brought with her and almost growled as desire and some deeper emotion swirled to the surface in an undeniable wave. It was like the one time he had been to the ocean. It had been a perfect, sunny day and the sand on the beach felt warm in between his toes.
He hadn’t been very old and it was one of those rare moments where his mother was actually aware of him, aware of what was going on around them. But she hadn’t been well, had been distracted by something and hadn’t noticed him swim too far out. He hadn’t been afraid, not at all. He could remember that so clearly, the feeling of freedom that had washed over him but that feeling had been shredded as an eddy, powerful and hidden under the calm blue surface had tugged him under.
He had fought with all his might against the undertow but its invisible fingers had dragged him further and further out into the true depths. He’d been so sure he was going to die. Luckily a surfer had spotted him go under and had paddled out to rescue him but what he really remembered was the inevitability. The unbreakable strength of that thing he couldn’t see, but could feel real and undeniable.
That’s what she was like. And damn, had he fought. Against her kindness, against her softness and sweetness. Against the idea that he would ever deserve her or could be the kind of man that she needed in her life. Carla. She’d turned him upside down since the first moment they had met and even now she was still surprising him.
He’d been wrong to accuse her of betraying him, of betraying the club, he knew that now. He knew she wouldn’t be capable of something like that and the guilt ate at him. Finally, she was dressed in the all black outfit that she had termed her ‘spy clothes’ and turned to him with a small smile drawn across her face despite the fact that they were about to break in to the lion’s den, so to speak.
As Carla looked at him, though, and took in his serious expression, her smile slowly faded as she took a step closer. She grabbed both of his callused hands in hers and he had to shut his eyes against the sweetness of it, the sweetness of her. He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t sure if he ever would.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice soft and her big blue eyes full of concern, “Is something wrong?”
“No, no,” he started, but then drew his words up sharply and let out a rattling breath, “Actually, there is something wrong.” With their entwined hands, Joel tugged her closer until she was standing just a few bare inches from him, “I need to apologize.”
“For what?” Carla asked, looking up at him quizzically.
“For blaming you. For thinking that you could betray us to a scumbag like Maurice. To telling you…telling you that I never wanted to see you again. I’m sorry. So sorry.”
“No, Joel. I…” Carla broke off, looking up at him with tears staining her sapphire eyes and every one cut at him like a knife, “It was my fault. There’s nothing to apologize for. If not for me, none of this would have happened and I–”
He stopped her words the only way he could think of, slanting his mouth over hers and drinking down her words in a scorching kiss that made them both breath hard when he finally pulled back from her.
“Never say that again,” Joel ordered roughly, spearing his fingers through her silken hair and tilting her head up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze, to see just how serious he was. “I couldn’t figure it out. I couldn’t see how else Maurice could have kept tracking us and I assumed that you had been working with him the whole time. But I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. So just say you forgive me, damn it. Stop trying to make me feel even worse by saying it was your fault.”
“But I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Joel. It was my f–” She didn’t even get the whole word out before he was kissing her again, trying to say with his entire body what his heart was full to the brim of.
“Damn it, Carla,” Joel said, his words stuttered from the panting breath and she laughed, smiling up at him, breathing heavy herself.
“You know, if you keep doing that I might just have to keep saying it,” she joked and Joel leaned his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes, so close he could see the flecks of royal purple and indigo in her gaze.
“You’re going to kill me,” he said on a groan, but she shook her head, her expression going serious once more, their gazes locked together.
“I forgive you, Joel,” she finally said and relief filled him at her words.
“And…and what you said to me, in the jail cell. Did you mean it?” It was the hardest question he’d ever asked but he needed to know. He’d repeated the words over and over in his mind since that night, but he needed to know.
Carla stared at him for so long without saying anything that he broke out into a sweat. He thought that she really might kill him if she kept him waiting any longer but finally she leaned forward just enough to place the softest, most tender kiss against his lips. It was like being touched by an angel. Heaven and hell all wrapped up together.
“I love you, Joel Lasseter,” her words fell across him like a gift and he drank them in, soaking them in deep to heal some part of his tortured soul.
“I love you, my blue bird,” he kissed her then, because he had to. Every emotion that she had pulled from him seemed almost overwhelming and he didn’t have the words. All he could do was press his lips to hers and prayed that she understood. From the soft look shining in her eyes when he finally pulled back, she did.
“Come on, then, blue bird. We’ve got a mission to complete,” Joel gave her a heated glance, “and then we can come back here and finish this conversation.” He hitched his shoulders as Carla put her hand trustingly in his and followed as he led them outside. They bid a quick goodbye to Elle and Honey and a reminder to make the call in a half hour, got on his bike and drove towards the farm. The whole ride a sense sat heavy and dark in the pit of his stomach, the sense that something bad was about to happen. He prayed it was wrong.
*
Elle watched Carla and Joel leave the clubhouse with knots in her stomach screaming at her that she was making the wrong choice, doing the wrong thing. She smoothed down the dress she was wearing, shorter than she normally wore. After Carla had called her, telling her what was going on and asking her to come to the clubhouse,she had taken a minute and changed. She hated knowing that she’d done it because of the man now sitting across the table from her. Elle refused to meet his gaze. He was completely infuriating.
In fact, now that she thought of it, she’d never met anyone as infuriating as Honey. What kind of name of that anyways? She cast a surreptitious glance at him, whipping it away immediately when he caught her gaze.
“You know, you don’t have to hide it if you want to look. Believe me, nothing’s stopping me from getting an eyeful,” he said, his voice low and sultry in a way that made moisture pool like warm syrup between her thighs. She shifted slightly, smoothing the dress down again, but then pulled herself up straight. She glanced down at the phone clenched in her hand and the timer that was even now counting down the seconds to when she had to make the dreaded call to Maurice.
“I am only here to help my best friend, that is it. This is about Carla,” she said primly.
“Sure it is.”
“Of course it is!” she argued, turning towards him, her temper rising, “What else would it be about?”
“Well, me, one could hope,” he said and suddenly he was there, leaning so far across the table that their faces were mere inches apart. So close that their breaths mingled in the most intimate way. But that was it. Not a kiss, even though her lips tingled as if he’d laid his across them. Not even a caress across her flushed cheeks. Just a look, and the shared oxygen between them.
“You shouldn’t, you know,” she finally managed to say, hating the sultry breathiness of her voice.
“Shouldn’t what?” his eyes, so dark, so warm, flicked down to land on her lips and on instinct she licked them. He groaned quietly as she swiped her tongue across her lower lip and she felt a rush of feminine power at his reaction. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt before but she pushed it away.
“You shouldn’t hope,” Elle’s words fell feather-soft from her lips, “not when it comes to me.”
Something about her words, or the tone behind them, no longer teasing made his eyes draw back up to hers and the heat she saw burn behind their dark depths made her gasp in a sharp breath as her whole body seemed to catch fire, burning right along with them. For a single second, she slipped, giving up, giving in to the feeling building like wildfire inside her and he saw it.
Honey moved to lean forward and, just then, a jarring beep when off. Elle jumped, startled, but looked down to see the phone’s timer going off in her hands. She’d forgotten all about it. With a curse she pulled away, drawing a deep breath and trying to settle her suddenly shattered nerves.
“I guess it’s time, then,” she whispered, and he looked at her for a long moment from under his dark slashing brows before he nodded.
“I guess it is.”
With trembling fingers, she dialed the number, holding her breath, a part of her praying that Maurice wouldn’t pick up, but on the third ring his bombastic voice echoed over the line.
“What?” was all he said.
“Um, Maur– Mr. Montero? This is Elle, Elle Watson,” she said, and prayed that he would mistake the breathiness of her voice for panic, “Have you seen Carla?”
“What? Carla? What is this about?”
“I think…Carla is missing. She’s missing.” Elle took another deep breath against the tightness of her chest, wracking her brain for what else to say. But she needn’t have worried. A second later the line went dead as Maurice hanged up. The plan was in motion. He’d taken the bait.
*
Joel watched, impressed despite himself as Carla made quick work of the
lock to the office and they both walked inside. Joel closed the door softly behind him. Luckily, there was enough daylight left for them to see fine inside Maurice’s office without having to turn on any additional lights and they hastily went to work searching through the most likely placed the bastard would have hidden anything.
The desk itself was empty of everything except for some standard forms and files, some accounting documents and profit and loss statements. Joel raised his eyebrows at the impressive amount that fell into the profit category and cast a wondering glance towards Carla.
“Who knew that dealing weed legally could be even more profitable than selling it under the table?” he said quietly, mentally doing the math as he replaced the files and whistled silently at the number he came too. Carla just rolled her eyes before giving him a stern look.