HIS PROPERTY: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Iron Bandits MC)

by Zoey Parker

  So why did he still have her with him? And how long did he intend to keep her around?

  Granted, if he did turn her loose, he'd still have to worry about her talking to the police. Since she'd grown to like him so much, she was rooting for him to reach Mexico and get away with the money, so she had no intention of cooperating with the authorities when they finally caught up to her—but she could still understand why he wouldn't necessarily believe that.

  Still, he clearly wasn't going to kill her, either. And he was already talking about bringing her to the rendezvous with Hazmat and Oiler.

  Would he take her all the way to the border? Maybe even past it?

  And for that matter, did she even want to go home again?

  After the tense scene at the cabin earlier, Billie knew that she should have been scared straight, eager to return to the safety and familiarity of Cactus Hollow. But she'd survived and kept her head together, and she found that the experience hadn't shaken her up all that much. If anything, it had shown her what she was made of and convinced her that she needed to spend more time outside of her comfort zone, braving danger and the unknown.

  Maybe she could keep tagging along with Carter and the other bikers and prove herself useful to them in whatever scenario they set up for themselves south of the border. Sure, Hazmat had done a lot of barking last time, but Carter could clearly keep him from biting when it came down to it. He could convince them to let her ride along with their gang, couldn't he?

  If he wanted to, of course. Which, for all she knew, he didn't.

  She went to the seasonal aisle and selected a tube of sunburn lotion with aloe vera and lidocaine. Then she walked over to the men's grooming section for battery-powered clippers. The way she saw it, if they were going to avoid scrutiny, they'd both need new hairstyles. He probably wouldn't love that idea, but...

  Suddenly, Billie noticed that a morbidly obese woman with a shopping cart was staring at her. Three small children stood around her ankles, whining and babbling at her incoherently.

  “Ain't I seen you somewheres?” the woman asked. “Like on the TV?”

  “Sure,” Billie answered. “I do commercials sometimes.”

  “Fer what?”

  “Oh, you know, the usual,” Billie stalled, trying to think. “Tampons, douches. If it's something for your vagina, chances are I've probably shilled for it at some point. Excuse me.”

  She walked over to the counter quickly, cursing herself for not being able to come up with anything more plausible. Tampons? Douches? Jesus Christ. So much for not drawing attention to herself.

  Billie paid for her purchases quickly and left. As she did, she could still feel the fat lady's eyes on her, and she could swear she heard her whispering to the clerk.

  Chapter 26

  Billie

  When Billie left the store, she looked out across the parking lot and saw Carter waving to her. He was standing next to a faded green Chevy convertible from the mid-'90s. Its engine was already purring. She walked over to him with the shopping bags.

  “Another oldie-but-goodie, huh?” she said, eyeing the car.

  “Always best to go for the older models,” Carter said. “The newer ones are damn near impossible to hotwire because of all the computer systems in them, plus almost all of them have locators and other security shit to worry about. And besides, cops don't usually make finding these beaters as much of a high priority, which can buy us a few hours or maybe even a whole day.”

  “Hey, I'm learning something new every day,” Billie chirped happily, getting into the passenger's seat. “I got us some new clothes. It's not Armani, but at least we probably won't look as much like a biker and a hostage. Should we change into them now?”

  “Nah, we can wait until we're about to check into a motel for the night,” Carter answered. He tossed his saddlebag in the back seat and situated himself behind the wheel. “I figure we're far enough from the dragnet the cops have set up, so getting a proper room should be pretty safe.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked as they pulled out of the parking lot and started down the highway. “I mean, motels are okay and all, but it sounded like those Taysha were really eager to have us stay with them again. We could pack a big bong, maybe hit the casino...”

  “Smart ass,” Carter smirked. Looking at his smile, Billie remembered when he'd walked over to her at the saloon to flirt with her, and she found herself getting wet for him all over again.

  “So, how does it feel?” he continued.

  “What?” she asked, caught off-guard.

  “Well, you drove a getaway vehicle after a bank robbery, you've helped steal cars, you've been in a stand-off with heavily-armed drug dealers,” Carter pointed out. “How does it feel to go from barmaid to stone-cold outlaw in less than two days?”

  This reminded Billie of the dream she had last night, and she shuddered in spite of the heat inside the car. He was right, wasn't he? She'd come much too far and made too many decisions for herself to still be considered a helpless victim of circumstance. She had little doubt that if she genuinely wanted to leave Carter at this point, he'd let her.

  But she didn't want to leave him now, and she wasn't sure she ever would.

  So what did that make her? His willing accomplice. His partner in crime. Maybe Panzie and the other cops would still give her the benefit of the doubt if they caught up to them—a thought which upset her now, even though she'd initially thought it inevitable—but even if they did, she'd still know the truth. How could she just plead innocence and go back to her old life?

  Now that she knew what she had inside her, how could she deny it instead of embracing it and seeing where it took her, no matter how dangerous that might be? Hadn't she taken the first few steps toward it already?

  “I didn't freak you out by asking that, did I?” Carter asked.

  Billie realized she'd been silent for several moments. She shook her head, forcing a laugh. “Nope. I was just thinking about it. Sure, I was your getaway driver, but I was still technically a hostage then. And stealing cars, well, any thirteen-year-old punk with a wire hanger can do that. I'll admit, the stand-off with the Taysha was totally badass and I feel like an action hero now, but...”

  “But what?” Carter asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “But I'm still not much of an outlaw, am I?” she prodded. “I still haven't done what you do, busting into a place with a gun and robbing it.”

  “Is that really something you'd want to do?” he replied incredulously.

  “I'll bet it makes you feel powerful, right? I'll bet it's the ultimate thrill.”

  “Oh, yeah, it's the biggest rush you'll ever experience,” Carter admitted. “There's nothing in the world like it. Completely taking control of the room from the very first second, taking whatever you want and seeing the fear in people's eyes knowing there's nothing they can do to stop you. When everything goes like it's supposed to, those few minutes are better than any drug you could ever take. They're better than sex. You feel like you're God.”

  “Wow,” Billie sighed. She could feel her nipples getting hard just from his description of it. She knew that she had to experience it for herself. “Show me.”

  Carter barked out a surprised laugh. “What the fuck do you mean, show you? What, you want to stop someplace and rob it, just like that?”

  “Why not?” she retorted. “You've got plenty of experience, so it seems like you'd be the perfect one to show me how it's done. And it's not like we'd have to hit another bank, or anything that risky. We could do, like, some little convenience store or a diner or something.”

  He looked at her with wide eyes, his smile fading. “Holy shit. You're actually serious about this, aren't you?”

  “Yes, I'm serious. I want to do this with you. I think it'll be fun. What, you don't think I can do it?”

  “It's a fucking felony,” Carter said. “Whether you can do it or not, why the hell would you want to? You're not a criminal.”

  Billie frowne
d. “But you just said—”

  “Yeah, I was kidding, okay? I was breaking your balls with the whole 'outlaw' thing. Jesus, would you really want to become an armed robber on a goddamn dare?”

  Billie favored him with a big grin and a wink. “I've done lots of stuff on dares,” she said.

  “And what happens when the lawmen catch up to us? You wouldn't be able to claim you were my hostage anymore. They'd lock you up too. Is it really worth that?”

  “First of all, I happen to think that as long as we put our heads together, we can make sure they don't catch up to us,” Billie said. “We seem to be doing a hell of a job with that so far. Second, if robbing a place really feels as good as you say it does, then fuck yeah, it's absolutely worth it to me. And third, no one will even have to know it was us, will they? Not if we wear masks when we do it.”

  “I've only got one mask,” said Carter.

  “Come on, you don't have anything else we could use for another mask?” Billie pleaded. “I could wear the ski mask to hide my hair, and we could tie your t-shirt around your face so it covers your nose and mouth. Why wouldn't that work?”

  Carter pulled up his t-shirt, revealing the numerous tattoos on his torso. As he did, Billie couldn't help but admire his muscles again.

  “See these?” he asked. “All on file with law enforcement. My ink gets caught on any cameras, they'll be able ID me more easily than if they'd seen my face.”

  Billie let out a frustrated sigh. After a moment, she reached into the back seat and grabbed the saddlebag.

  “Hey, what are you doing with that?” Carter snapped.

  “I'm sure there's something in here that we could use, if we get a little creative,” Billie said, unzipping the bag and rummaging inside. She slid the brick of pot and bundles of cash aside.

  “Stop that!” He tried to snatch the bag away from her with one hand as he kept steering with the other, but she twisted and turned in her seat, keeping it away from him.

  “What's the big deal?” she laughed. “If you've got porno mags in here or something, don't worry. I won't be shocked. Ah, here we go!” She produced a green bandana. “We can tie this onto you.”

  As she moved to return the bag to the back seat, she spotted something else inside it and pulled it out. It was a patch—the kind that members of motorcycle clubs usually had sewn onto the backs of their vests. The lettering said “Metal Monsters MC,” and it framed a hideous robot face with red eyes and bloody gears for teeth.

  “What's this?” she asked, examining it.

  “Oiler came up with it,” Carter said quietly. “The name, the picture, everything. It was going to be the patch when we founded our own MC, after pulling the bank jobs. We were going to set up in some small town on the West Coast. We were finally going to have something that was ours, y'know? We were going to be free to do things our own way.”

  Billie heard the sadness in his voice and felt a twinge of guilt. It sounded like this had been his dream, his big chance at freedom, and now...

  “I guess holing up in Mexico for a while kind of fucks your plans up, huh? Because of me. Because you were worried I'd give the cops your descriptions.”

  “Yeah,” said Carter.

  “I really wouldn't, you know. You guys could still go ahead with your original plan.”

  “The thing is, I want to believe that,” Carter said. “And I even think I almost can. But you've got to understand, Hazmat...well, he ain't the trusting type. You saw what he's like. And Oiler, shit, he's so scared of going back to prison that he wouldn't be willing to take any chance that could lead to that. So there's just no way they'd go for it. I mean, fuck, I still don't know how I'm supposed to show up with you, after what Hazmat said before. So far, I haven't had any bright ideas about how to drop you off before I get there. Or maybe I just haven't been thinking about it hard enough,” he said with a grumble.

  Billie beamed at him. “See? I knew you liked having me around too much to really get rid of me! And listen, I think I've got the perfect solution to all of this.”

  Carter chuckled. “That'd be a neat trick.”

  “Hear me out,” she insisted. “They're worried I'll give you all up to the cops, right? But what if I couldn't? What if they had hard evidence in their possession that would implicate me in a crime, so they knew that if I gave them up, they'd give me up too?”

  “Go on,” Carter prompted warily.

  “We rob a place,” Billie continued. “And I use this gun you gave me, which has my prints all over it now. I can even fire a bullet into a wall or the ceiling or something, to leave evidence proving it was this gun. Then Hazmat and Oiler can hang onto the gun and turn it over to the cops if I ever double-cross them, which I obviously won't. See? Then they've got a reason to trust me.”

  And maybe even keep me around, Billie thought to herself. But one thing at a time.

  Carter thought it over. “Maybe it's worth a shot. But come on, seriously—why the fuck are you so eager to rob someplace?”

  “You said it was better than sex,” Billie countered. “Maybe I just want to see how it feels to have better-than-sex with you.”

  He considered this for a moment, then laughed.

  “All right,” he said. “If that's what you want, then that's what we'll do.”

  Chapter 27

  Carter

  As they drove down the highway, Carter was still having a difficult time believing he was going along with this. It seemed insane that someone who was a regular citizen the day before yesterday was suddenly so desperate to commit a felony.

  But did it really?

  He thought back to when he'd gotten out of the Army and decided to join the Hobgoblins. The life of freedom and adventure had appealed to him, and he'd known that the skills the military had taught him would be assets. Had he been upset by the thought of the crimes that would naturally accompany such a life?

  No, he realized, he hadn't. He'd accepted that part of it quite easily. Iraq had made him comfortable with violence, and when he engaged in it on behalf of the Hobgoblins, it was always necessary—never random or unprovoked, never aimed at anyone who was some blameless citizen. Selling drugs and running guns hadn't bothered him, either. People would always want those things, he reasoned, so he may as well be the one to supply them and profit from them. And as for the robberies, the banks and stores he hit were generally insured, and no one got hurt.

  The more he considered it, the more he understood that when the time had come all those years ago, he'd stepped across the line from civilian to criminal with hardly any hesitation at all. It had seemed a small price to pay to abandon a former life he'd never really felt like he'd belonged to anyway and become part of a group who looked out for each other.

  So who was he to judge Billie for making that same choice? Maybe she wasn't just some bored thrill-seeker out for a joyride with an outlaw. Maybe she truly felt the need to leave her old self behind and find a new one instead.

  “What about there?” Billie asked, pointing out the windshield at a liquor store.

  “No good,” he said, shaking his head. “Liquor stores are too risky. They get robbed a lot, so there are always lots of security measures in place, and the clerks are generally armed to the teeth. Also, see how the window is covered up with all those posters and signs? That means we won't be able to scope it out from a distance first, to see what we'll be dealing with.”

  “Okay,” said Billie. “So what kinds of places are we looking for?”

  “Well, keep in mind that usually, if you're planning a robbery like this, you'd want to check the place out a few days in advance,” Carter began. It felt strange, explaining this to another person. Most of the guys he'd rolled with already had experience with this stuff. “That would let you figure out who works during which shifts, when the place will be emptiest, all that. But since we can't really do that this time, we need a small store with a big window. It'll let us see how many people are inside and what the layout is.”

>   “What else?” Billie asked eagerly.

  “Our best bet is probably a gas station,” he said. “We shouldn't have to shoot more than once—at the beginning, like you said, to plant the bullet and also to freak them out enough to cooperate. But if there are gas pumps around, it'll make the clerk too nervous to resist. He won't know how crazy or stupid we are, so he won't risk anything that would make us blast off and blow the whole place to hell.”

  “There's a gas station over there,” she said, pointing again.

  Sure enough, there was a filling station ahead with a tiny convenience store attached to it. There were no cars parked at the pumps, and even though the main window was tinted, it was easy to see inside.

  “That could work,” Carter agreed. He pulled the car over to the side of the road across from the station and rolled down his window, looking over at the store. Through the window, he could see an elderly black man behind the counter. He appeared to be the only one there.