Calling the Biker's Bluff (Dogs of Fire MC: Savannah Chapter Book 7)

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Calling the Biker's Bluff (Dogs of Fire MC: Savannah Chapter Book 7) Page 9

by Piper Davenport


  “I don’t know—”

  “Did I mention your man will also fuck you into oblivion?”

  She bit her lip and I knew I was wearing her down.

  I slid my hand to her neck and stroked her pulse. “I promise nothing will be broken or stolen from your home. You have my word.”

  Studying me for a few seconds, she leaned her cheek into my hand, then nodded. “Okay.”

  “Great. Let’s head out.”

  She grabbed my hand. “How long do I have to wait for you to fuck me into oblivion?”

  I grinned. “We can head back to the party and straight up to my room.”

  “Deal,” she said, and we made our way down to her car. Shadow was going to ride Doc’s bike back to the barn, so I was able to follow Shiloh on mine.

  Shiloh

  “NOW!” I SCREAMED as Otter slammed into me from behind, his hands at my breasts, his fingers rolling my nipples as he fucked me… hard. I’d begged for it and he’d delivered.

  “Wait, baby,” he ordered.

  “Get there, honey,” I panted out as my orgasm threatened to explode.

  He buried himself deep once, then twice, then he slapped my butt. “Come.”

  I let my body go, falling onto the mattress as Otter fell on top of me, rolling us so we were spooning, his dick still buried deep.

  “Holy crap,” I rasped, licking my lips.

  He chuckled, kissing the back of my neck. “Yeah.”

  I grinned. “That was, like, five.”

  “I know. I told you I was gonna distract you tonight,” he said, and slid gently out of me.

  I craned my neck to meet his eyes. “Well done, honey, you succeeded.”

  He kissed me quickly, then headed into the bathroom.

  “Do you think Beau—”

  “Stop,” he called out. “Your brother’s fine, his wounds’ll heal. Doc’s watchin’ him.”

  I sighed. “I know. You’re right.”

  He walked back in and settled a washcloth between my legs.

  “He’s just—”

  “Baby, stop. I think your brother’s into somethin’ he can’t get out of, and I plan to find out what, but this does not touch you.”

  “What do you mean, you think he’s into something he can’t get out of.” I frowned. “More importantly, what do you mean, you ‘plan to find out’?”

  “You missed the ‘this does not touch you’ part,” he said, leaning down to kiss me gently.

  I tugged on his beard. “Please don’t do anything rash.”

  “I’m not planning on doing anything except makin’ you come again.”

  “Tonight, but what about tomorrow?”

  “I’ll make you come then, too.”

  I rolled my eyes. “In your attempt to distract me, are you planning on just fucking me into submission every minute of the day?”

  “Is that an option?” he joked, leaning down to kiss me.

  I reached up and cupped his face, stroking his beard. “I have an early shift on Tuesday.”

  “So?”

  “So, I need to get home and do laundry,” I lied.

  I mean, technically, it wasn’t a lie, but it could wait another day. I just needed some time to myself. Time to think without his dick inside of me.

  He frowned. “It’s barely six in the morning.”

  “It’s not like I’m going to get any sleep if I hang out here, Easy.”

  “Are you pissed?”

  “No,” I said. “I’m tired. You exhaust me. And it’s not that I don’t appreciate the workouts, but I need to clear my head before I catch babies.”

  “I’ll follow you home.”

  “I am quite capable of getting myself and Sneezles home without you, Otter,” I said, sliding off the bed, and throwing the washcloth into his hamper.

  “I’d feel better if I followed you home.”

  “How about you help me get the cat in his carrier?” I suggested. “I’ll text you when I make it home safely.”

  “Baby—”

  “Easy, please,” I begged without looking at him. “I need a little space.”

  “There it is.”

  “I’m not pissed, honey, promise.” I pulled on panties and a bra. “I’m just exhausted and overwhelmed. I want to go home and sleep… alone. I’m on four twelves, but we can see each other on Friday, okay?”

  He frowned. “Is it normal for a nurse to work this hard?”

  “It is when you’re single and trying to pay off your mortgage.”

  “You’re not single anymore.”

  “I know,” I said, but didn’t know what else to say. We were new and I didn’t know how long it would last. I wasn’t about to change my schedule on the off chance that he might be my forever. “Will you help me with Sneezles, please?”

  He frowned again, giving me a reluctant nod, then working to get Sneezles in his carrier. It didn’t take long this time, then he carried everything down to my car, kissed me gently and watched me drive away.

  * * *

  Otter

  Something was off. Something big. I didn’t like the way Shiloh was pulling back, but I also didn’t have a whole lot of power over it either. It’s not like I could lock her in the barn and keep her from the world until I knew she was safe.

  I shook off my worry and headed back inside. My brother had hooked up with some woman last night and taken her back to my place with orders not to bug him until he texted me. No one else was up, and the barn was deathly quiet, so I headed out to the shop, my metal calling to me. I waited until Shiloh texted that she’d arrived home safely, then fired up my torch. I’d been working for about three hours when Doc came looking for me.

  “Otter!” he called, and I killed the torch and lifted my shield.

  “Yeah?”

  “Got a minute?” he asked.

  “Now?”

  Doc nodded. “It’s important, brother.”

  I frowned and gave him a nod, making sure I could safely leave my workspace, then followed him to his office.

  “What’s up?” I asked, closing the door behind us.

  “We might have a problem,” Doc said, sitting in the chair behind his desk.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” I said, and sat across from him.

  “I had Rabbit do a deep dive on Shiloh’s brother.”

  “Fuck,” I breathed out. “What did he find?”

  “He’s in deep with the Dixie Mafia.”

  “Goddammit,” I growled. “I swear to Christ if the stink of that asshole’s shit gets anywhere near Shiloh, I’m gonna end him.”

  Doc shook his head, dragging his hands down his face. “Somethin’s off.”

  “Meaning, more than the fact he’s in deep with the Mob?”

  “Yeah.” Doc settled his head in his hands and sighed. “Just can’t put my finger on it.”

  “Did you ask Rabbit to dig deeper?”

  Doc gave me a look of admonishment.

  I put my hands up. “Just had to ask.”

  “He’s workin’ on it, but he’s gettin’ blocked.”

  “What do you mean ‘blocked’?” I asked.

  “Beau’s a ghost. Sort of.” Doc stood and started to pace. “I don’t know, Rabbit can explain it better than I can.”

  Before I could ask any more questions, Rabbit pushed open the door and walked in, his laptop open and balanced on his arm. “Found somethin’ else.”

  Doc and I leaned forward to look at the screen, but Rabbit shook his head, taking the chair beside me and setting the computer on his lap. “You won’t understand what you’re looking at. It’ll be easier if I just explain.”

  Doc took his seat and I leaned back again, and Rabbit’s fingers flew over the keyboard, then he looked up. “He’s a ghost.”

  “Yeah, Doc said that,” I growled. “What does that mean?”

  Rabbit shrugged. “No digital footprint.”

  “Pretend we don’t know what that means, and talk slow,” I hissed. Computers weren’t r
eally my thing. I was far more tactile, so digital shit was a little above my paygrade.

  “It means he doesn’t exist. Sort of,” Rabbit said. “You can do a search for Beau Abernathy, and find basic shit, like social media, that sort of thing. Then you can go deeper and find parking tickets, speeding tickets, criminal background, etcetera. Then when you go deeper, you find less, then just a black hole.”

  “Which means…?” I pressed, waving my hand to urge him to tell me what the fuck was going on.

  “He’s either so dirty, he’s protected by some seriously dangerous people, or…”

  “Or what?” I snapped. “Jesus, Rabbit, spit it out.”

  “He’s with some kind of agency.”

  “An agency?” I breathed out. Shit.

  “Undercover?” Doc asked.

  Rabbit nodded.

  “Fuck,” I snapped, and shot to my feet. “Goddammit!” I stepped behind Rabbit’s chair and leaned down. “Show me his Academy record.”

  “He was in the Academy?” Doc asked.

  “Yeah, he flamed out. Or so he told Shiloh,” I said.

  “There’s no record of the Police Academy,” Rabbit said.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I bellowed.

  “Don’t lose your shit,” Doc warned. “If he’s workin’ somethin’, we can’t blow his cover.”

  “He’s puttin’ her in danger,” I countered. “I can’t fuckin’ sit back and say nothing.”

  “You have to,” Doc said.

  “Fuck that. Get me his address,” I demanded.

  “He’s got a loft on West Gordon Street, downtown,” Rabbit said.

  “Jesus Christ, he must have had to sell a kidney to afford that place,” Doc said.

  “Two,” I countered. “Over a million for a two-bedroom.”

  “One point five,” Rabbit confirmed. “I texted you the details.”

  I nodded, walking out the door, and rushing up to my room. I grabbed my wallet, keys, and helmet, then headed out to my bike. It was time to get some fuckin’ answers.

  I had to ride around a couple times to find anywhere to park, but finally found something at the back entrance. Probably better anyway. I climbed off my bike, then walked up to the back of the building. There was no easy way in, so I had to hoof it around to the front, only to find the building impossible to get into without a code.

  I stepped back and texted Rabbit to see if he could get me a phone number or the code to the building, just as someone walked out. I nodded at the older woman who gave me the once over as I slipped inside.

  “Sir?” the woman called as the door clicked.

  I pretended I didn’t hear her, finding the elevators and making my way to the top floor before anyone could stop me. It didn’t take long to locate Beau’s loft, considering there were only two units on this floor, so I stepped to the side and covered the peephole before pressing the buzzer.

  “Who’s there?” Beau called.

  I didn’t reply, just stood covering the peephole. Once I heard the locks turn, I stepped to the side and waited for Beau to inch the door open before I pushed against it. I was surprised to find Beau ready for me and I was suddenly on the floor with a gun pointed at my head.

  “Beau, it’s me, dickhead.”

  “What the…? Otter?” Beau snapped. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  I shoved at him. “Let me up, asshole.”

  It took a second for him to release me, then he stood with a groan. “Jesus, I’m bleeding again,” he rasped, grabbing paper towels from the kitchen and pressing them against his wound.

  “You’re movin’ pretty good for a guy who just got shot,” I observed.

  Beau checked the hallway, then closed and locked his door again, sliding his gun back in the drawer in the dresser by the front door. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “You undercover?” I demanded.

  “You smokin’ crack?”

  I rolled my eyes. “That wasn’t a no.”

  Beau dragged his hands through his hair. “Otter, you need to leave.”

  “What the fuck’s goin’ on, Beau?” I asked.

  “I can’t talk about that, you need—”

  Before he could finish his sentence, the doorbell pealed.

  “Fuck!” he whispered. “Take off your cut.”

  “What?”

  “Take off your goddammed cut, Otter. Anything with a patch,” he clarified. “They can’t know who you are.”

  “Who?” I asked, already shrugging out of anything that labeled me a Dog.

  “How’s your acting?” Beau asked, locking my leathers in a safe hidden on the wall just as the doorbell pealed again.

  “I guess we’re about to find out,” I said, crossing my arms and waiting for Beau to answer the door… inviting in none other than Atticus Artrope and Buford Davis.

  Atticus was the very picture of the “Southern Gentleman.” He was polite and always dressed impeccably, as was his full-time ‘valet,’ Buford Davis. Despite his current appearance, Davis grew up rough and was not to be fucked with. As the story goes, Davis saved Artrope’s life back in the day and they’ve been thick as the thieves they are ever since. As Atticus Artrope’s power within the Dixie Mafia rose, he took Buford Davis with him every step of the way. Then there are those other rumors about the nature of their relationship, but I’ve never been big on gossip.

  I glared at Beau who turned back to the pair and smiled. “Welcome, gentlemen. Come in.”

  “Well, thank you, son,” Atticus crooned, stepping inside. “Oh, Easton, my boy, it’s good to see you again. I didn’t realize you and Beau were chums.”

  “We’re not,” I said.

  The fact that Atticus remembered my name was telling and somewhat disconcerting, considering we’d only met once. The night Tuck got stabbed at the illegal game. Our introduction had also been brief. I didn’t interact with either man during the night, so Atticus must have done some checking up on me.

  I didn’t like that. I didn’t like that at all.

  “I owed Jordy money,” Beau lied. “He came to collect. And now that I’ve paid up, he was just leaving.”

  “Oh, no. Please don’t leave on my account. In fact, I’d prefer it if you stayed,” Atticus said, motioning to a chair.

  “Yes, sir,” I said, as amiably as I could. “But I’d prefer to stand if it’s all the same to you.” I wanted to show these men the proper respect but wasn’t about to put myself in a vulnerable position around stone-cold killers.

  “Please. There’s no need to call me ‘sir.’ The Beast hates such outdated terms and titles. Besides, we’re all friends here,” Atticus said, taking the seat I’d refused. Buford stood behind him and studied us.

  “The Beast?” I asked, casually, pushing my acting ability to its limit.

  Atticus laughed. “Come on, don’t act so surprised, Otter. Your club has been looking for the Beast for months.”

  My blood turned to liquid nitrogen.

  “Who’s Otter?” Beau asked with a nervous chuckle. A nice attempt on his part, but my cover had clearly been blown.

  “There’s no need for you do play dumb anymore, Beau,” Atticus said. The muscles in my back tightened and I readied myself to pounce, should one of these guys make a move.

  “Hey, what the hell is this all about?” Beau asked.

  “Relax,” Atticus said calmly. “We’re just here to talk, that’s all. Believe me, if the Beast wanted either of you dead, you’d be dead already. This is strictly business.”

  “Who is the Beast exactly?” I asked

  Atticus smiled wide. “‘Exactly’ is a tough one, but I can tell you this. For the first time in history, the Dixie Mafia has a true head and it’s in the form of a beast.”

  “What the hell does that mean and what’s it got to do with us?” Beau asked.

  “I’ll explain in a moment, but first, allow me to share something with you,” Atticus said. “You see, I’ve picked up a particular skill over the many ye
ars of being in this life. A skill that’s served me very well over the years. In fact, it’s saved my life on more than one occasion.”

  “What’s that?” Beau asked.

  “I can tell, within moments of meeting someone, whether they are being themselves or putting on an act,” Atticus replied, casually crossing his leg. “There are basically two types of people in the world, Beau. Smart people and dumb people. Your friend Tuck, for example, is a truly dumb person. Please excuse my vulgarity, but frankly, he’s a real fucking idiot. You on the other hand, are smart but pretend to be dumb, and I’m here to find out why.”

  Buford quickly pulled a gun from his coat and leveled it at Beau’s head. I stayed put for the moment. As quick as I may be, I wasn’t faster than a bullet.

  “Now, why don’t both of you take a seat with me so we can discuss your futures,” Atticus said, and we did as we were told. Buford kept his gun on Beau as Atticus continued, “From the moment I first saw you at Jordy’s games I began keeping an eye on you. I knew Jordy’s kid was a total fuckup, and even though you acted like him, I could tell right away that it was truly an act.”

  “Hey, Mr. Artrope, I—” Beau began.

  “There’s no reason to deny it. I know what I know. My first thought was you were law enforcement, but we had our best people dig into you and they couldn’t find anything.”

  “I’m not a fucking cop,” Beau snapped.

  “He just told you he knows that,” Buford said. “Maybe this kid ain’t so fuckin’ smart, Boss.”

  “Don’t call me Boss, Buford. I’m just a workin’ man like you now, remember?’

  “Sorry, Atticus. Old habits…”

  “Old habits must give way to new times, gentlemen,” Atticus said with a dramatic flair, sounding to me like he was trying to convince himself as much as the others in the room. He turned his attention back to Beau. “Once I figured out you weren’t a cop, I thought, maybe you were with a competing crew, but no one around town knows you from Adam. Other than that pretty little sister of yours.”

  “My sister?” Beau asked, playing dumb.

  “Yes, the nurse. Shiloh. We sent a man to confirm her place of residence, so you need to explain to me right now, why you’re hanging around my games playing dumb and dumber with Jordy’s kid.”

 

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