Steal His Heart: a bad boy romance novel

by Casey, London

  “There’s people all around,” I said. “Are you stupid?”

  “We’re going for a ride,” Don said. “Don’t piss me off either.”

  I had no choice but to get into the backseat of the car.

  Ruley was the driver, as always.

  “I’m out for a run. I’m sweating. Can I go home and get a shower?”

  “No,” Don said. “Johnny has requested your appearance right now.”

  Johnny and his “right now” requests were getting old. I couldn’t stand dealing with him.

  “I sent the work in,” I said.

  “He got it,” Ruley said. “Great job there. Clean and precise. Just the way we like it.”

  “Then what am I doing here?”

  My question went unanswered. It remained unanswered until we pulled up to the luxury apartment building. Johnny had a few properties in the state, but he loved being in a building with several people. He said it made him feel safer. The other people in the building were big money business people. Doctors. Lawyers. Then again, for all I knew, they could all be gangsters wearing expensive suits. Kind of like Johnny. He had plenty of front businesses to cover up what he was actually doing.

  “I’ll walk her up,” Don said. “You stay put, Ruley.”

  Ruley opened the middle console and pulled out a sandwich wrapped up tight. He started to peel it open and the smell of raw onions and vinegar hit my nose.

  I got out of the car and Don took me into the building. I was way out of place and anyone within spitting distance stared me down.

  Don slipped his hand around my waist and kissed my cheek. “How was your run, sweetheart?”

  It took everything not to throw up right there.

  But I played the part until we got into the elevator.

  I pushed Don away and wiped my shoulder as though he were covered in toxic waste.

  “Aw, what’s wrong?” he asked. “Don’t want a little kiss from me?”

  “I’d rather get shot,” I said.

  Don opened his suit jacket and showed me his gun. “That can be arranged.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked down.

  The elevator dinged and Don touched my back. We walked down the hall to Johnny’s apartment. It was a corner suite with a lot of windows and a lot of expensive furniture. It was a wide open bachelor pad and smelled like it had never been lived in.

  “Wait here,” Don said and pointed to the second step that led down to the living room area. “You fucking try to move and Ruley will chase you down and shoot you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. I could use water though.”

  Don disappeared.

  When he returned, Johnny was with him. Clean cut, a steel like jaw, dark eyes, slicked-back black hair, and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing off what looked like a very expensive watch. That was Johnny’s casual attire. The white shirt was tucked into black pants and his black shoes shined almost as much as his hair.

  He had two glasses in his hand. One clear, one amber.

  He handed me the clear glass.

  I smelled it, cautious.

  “Don’t trust me?” he asked, smiling.

  “You never know,” I said.

  I sipped the water. It was the best water I had ever tasted in my life.

  “Imported,” Johnny said. “You can’t imagine how much it costs. That water has never been touched by machine or human hand. It’s the most expensive process in the world.”

  “I doubt that,” I said.

  “You calling me a liar?”

  “I really don’t think you kidnapped me here to talk about water.”

  “True,” Johnny said. He took a drink from his glass. He held the glass to the side and Don took it from Johnny. “And let’s get this straight, I didn’t kidnap you. You came to me.”

  “And now I’m trapped. Against my will.”

  “You can leave,” Johnny said. “You have your will. I just have my men who are going to get what’s owed.”

  “My life,” I whispered.

  “See, now we’re on the same page,” Johnny said. “I didn’t bring you here to talk about water. Or free will. I got your work from this morning. Bravo. Well done, Jade.”

  “How much of that counts toward my debt?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. You know what the big play is here.”

  “A biker club,” I said. “I don’t understand …”

  Johnny stepped up to tower over me and curled his lip. “You don’t get to question me. Ever. Got that? You do what you’re fucking told or I’ll take back what I gave you.”

  “My father was buried with that liver,” I said.

  Johnny smiled. Then he jabbed a finger to my stomach. “I’ll get a liver back then.”

  Right on cue, Don pulled a knife from his back pocket.

  “Jesus Christ,” I whispered. Another casual reminder of what I was dealing with. “Right. Sorry. You want the club taken down.”

  “Just do as you’re told,” Johnny said. “I want something from them. That’s where we start. That’s where you start. You were with them, weren’t you?”

  “You didn’t see what I saw,” I said. “It turned into a messy scene. I think they kidnapped someone. What if they kidnap me?”

  “If you get caught, you weren’t worth the care to begin with,” Johnny said. “My patience is running thin, Jade. I refuse to accept failure again.”

  “With all due respect, Johnny, I told you it was going to take me some time to figure this one out. This isn’t some computer hack. This isn’t a heist with license plates or identities—”

  I saw the back of his hand a second before it caught my mouth. I went down to my ass and tasted blood.

  Johnny just stood there. “I didn’t ask for you to talk back to me, Jade. I don’t give a shit what this is to you. They’re bikers. They’re dumb. They want whiskey and pussy. You have one of the two on you at all times.” He reached into his pocket and I flinched, fearing a gun. It wasn’t. Johnny dropped a hundred-dollar bill on me. “Go buy the other. Get the fucking job done.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Okay, fine.”

  “Now get out of here. You stink. Take a shower or something.”

  With that, Johnny turned and walked away.

  I got to my feet and Don escorted me out of the apartment. All of that could have been done with a phone conversation but Johnny liked to prove his point. Proof in that was my swollen lip.

  Life had come down to one simple thing.

  Kill or be killed.

  6

  (max)

  Eight fucking hours of surveillance and not a damn thing. We went to all the houses that had experienced these break ins, just to show our presence and try to let the people of Daurian know that it wasn’t the club and that we were aware of the situation.

  That we’d help stop this shit.

  Then we sat and waited to see if there was any activity.

  Prez had us split up into groups of two and I was with Jasper.

  Killing off the last bite of a burger, I tossed the wrapper over my shoulder and checked my phone.

  “Whiskey time,” I growled with my mouth half full.

  “I agree,” Jasper said. His cell beeped and he took the call. He put a finger up.

  “Yeah, we’re on it, Prez,” Jasper said. He ended the call. “We have to go.”

  “Something wrong?”

  “He’s with Chief Danielson. We got the reports on all the break ins.”

  “Damn, that’s good,” I said. “Wonder what the price is.”

  “What, you don’t think Chief will help us from the kindness of his heart?”

  I laughed. “I don’t think so, brother.”

  Jasper started his motorcycle. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

  I guess so.

  *

  We were back at the clubhouse, gathered in the lot with folders open and spread across the hood of Chief Danielson’s SUV.

&nb
sp; “It’s just bullshit,” Chief said. “Doing it to fuck with us. It’s a fear play.”

  “I agree,” Prez said.

  “Fix it,” Chief said.

  “You’re the police,” I said.

  Chief turned his head and looked at me. “Who the fuck are you again?”

  I curled my lip and pushed forward. Jasper put his hand out and touched my chest, stopping me. Chief Danielson enjoyed pushing buttons when he felt like it, but the look on his face was simple. Fear. Just like he said. Whoever was doing this was trying to get everyone riled up, and it was working.

  “Chief, this is good data,” Prez said, being calm and diplomatic for the moment. “But there’s no suspects. There’s no forensics. There’s no—”

  “Forensics?” Chief asked and let out a laugh. “You’ve been watching too much TV, Trev. You chillin’ with your old lady at night? Watching those cop shows? Please. What the fuck do you think this town is? You want forensics? I’ll make a call and get all kinds of fun fucking people here. And watch how fast they get up your ass.”

  “Okay, I get it,” Prez said. “Take a breath, Chief.”

  “Take a breath,” Chief said. “I’ve got people in fear. I’ve got guys out there looking for what? Patrolling, coming up short, and then another attack.”

  “Sounds like you need new people,” I chimed in.

  “Sounds like someone knows what we’re doing and knows right when to strike,” Chief said.

  The silence that followed made it very clear that he was pointing his pudgy finger at the MC. I sucked in a breath and swooped around Jasper. I stood next to Chief and looked at the folders for myself.

  “Track the pattern,” I said as I stabbed my finger at the reports. “He, she, it, they, whoever it is, they’re going along the west part of town. Why? Because that’s where shit is usually quiet. You know damn well we don’t go near there, Chief. Throwing a finger at us? It’s better off being your middle finger. It’ll carry more weight than some self-soothing accusation.”

  “You know, you mention suspects, Trev,” Chief said. “I did get some info about a few guys at a bar. They fit the description of Cash, Austin, and—oh, wait—Max. And if I’m correct, Max had a gun. And one of these home invasions, someone had a gun to their head. So maybe I take Max in. That’ll at least let everyone have their collective sigh for a day or two.”

  I glanced at Prez. He grinned. “Take one of our guys off the streets and you’re that much weaker.”

  “By all means though,” I said and offered my wrists. “Take me in, Chief.”

  “Can we cut through this bullshit?” Jasper asked. “Look, this is simple. You have men out there. We have our men out there. Something will give. Standing here, pissing on each other is going to get nothing done. You know we aren’t behind this, Chief. We have no reason to be. Our club has enough to deal with.”

  “Like roughing up local bars,” Chief said.

  “We didn’t rough up a bar,” I said. “I paid my tab and then some.”

  “Heard you took someone out the back door.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Everyone that was supposed to leave, did.”

  “Fucking assholes,” Chief growled. He grabbed for the folders. “You wanted the information, you got it. You see what I see now. I’ll leave with what I said before. Fix this.”

  Chief climbed into his SUV and left the lot.

  We stood there, almost in a circle, nobody saying a goddamn word.

  “Think it’s Night Soul or the Hell Five coming at us?” Cash asked.

  “I don’t know,” Trev said.

  We’d had our run-ins with other crews before, especially the Hell Five. But those beefs were small. Even if they wanted to come at the MC, they wouldn’t stoop to cheap burglaries. Unless, of course, they were trying to ignite another war.

  “No use in guessing,” I said. “We just keep our eyes open here. It’s pretty damn certain that the club has another target on its back. We’re used to that, right?”

  “Amen, brother,” Jasper said. “As long as Chief Danielson doesn’t turn on us.”

  “Fuck him,” Tristan said. “What’s he going to do? Take us in? Let him. Then when another robbery happens, he looks like a fool.”

  “True,” Prez said.

  “He needs us out and running the streets,” I said.

  “To do his job,” Jasper said.

  “More than that, VP. With us rolling like outlaws, it gives him something to point at. So let him be. I’m going to head out and get myself a drink.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Prez said. “I’ll keep guys on the streets, moving around. Prospects will be surveying everything. I want everyone to be ready to go with a call. Got that? No disappearing.”

  “No worries, Prez,” I said. “I’m looking for a shot of whiskey and a taste of pussy.”

  “I’m going with him,” Cash said, pointing at me.

  By the time I got on my ride, Cash, Austin and Cade were with me.

  I wasn’t looking for brotherhood.

  I also wasn’t looking for trouble but she was waiting for me.

  7

  (jade)

  I had no pictures of my father or of myself during my childhood. I never had a flair for memories, mostly because many of them were not worth remembering. For some reason, that was all I thought about as I got ready for another night out. Another attempt at cracking Max’s shell. The outlaw who gave me my first kiss but didn’t remember me now. He was supposed to be an easy target but was far from it. And I still had no idea what Johnny wanted with a motorcycle.

  Why did memories suddenly matter?

  I had no clue.

  Maybe if I had pictures to remind me of better days I could find better days.

  Yet I had dug my own grave, so they say. Young, scared, and trying to do what was right for my father, since he was the only person in my life. A man who abused me in every way except physically.

  I shut my eyes and counted to ten.

  I hit the mental reset button and then began to focus on my task ahead.

  Max was at some dive bar only twenty minutes away. Johnny had one of his guys call me. I knew better than to ask how he knew that. I also knew better than to ask why someone else didn’t just go after the club. Or maybe that was part of the plan. I was merely a ploy, a cheap distraction that was going to wind up dead anyway.

  I left the apartment and took a cab to the bar.

  Tonight was going to be the night where I begin the end of Back Down Devil MC.

  *

  I entered the bar filled with no one but outlaws and ramblers. Guys with consciences so heavy they all sat slumped forward, staring down into a shot glass or a beer mug. Not many people looked at me, which was a good thing. I wasn’t dressed like some cheap slut or anything. I didn’t need the attention. I was best to come and go without being remembered.

  Hell, I couldn’t even get Max to remember me.

  And speaking of Max …

  I spotted him with a cigarette in his mouth and a pool stick in his hands. He bent forward and lined up a shot. If I was admitting it to myself, Max had a really nice ass. His jeans fit him damn perfect. His leather cut and t-shirt pulled up, showing the top of his jeans and some of his back. Just like how guys like it when women’s shirts ride up to show skin, women felt the same about men.

  Max drew the pool stick back. The back of his arm was thick with muscle. He thrust the stick forward, making his shot. He threw the stick to the table and threw the middle finger to whoever he was there with. As he turned, he grabbed a shot glass off the edge of the pool table. He took the cigarette out of his mouth to take the shot. He flipped the glass upside down on the pool table and before he walked to the closest table and sat down where a fresh beer waited.

  He looked up right at me.

  The second our eyes locked, I felt a hot surge through my body. The first time I saw him, the night he took out his gun and all hell broke loose, I fully expected him to remember me.
I figured it would be an easy grab and go kind of thing. Except this outlaw, this man, was beautifully bad. Max had been good looking in his young, bad boy days, but right now, the years gave him muscle, scars, tattoos, and a viper-like stare.

  I swallowed hard and reminded myself why I was there. I had a job to do. My life literally depended on it.

  When I got to the table, I didn’t take a seat right away. I just stood there, staring down at Max. He slowly lifted his gaze to mine. The cigarette was back between his lips. He made it look cool and I hated him for that.

  “What?” he asked.

  I grabbed the beer mug and had myself a good drink.

  Then I slid into the seat across from him. “You don’t remember me?”

  “I always remember a pretty face,” he said with a sly grin.

  “I guess that’s a compliment to me,” I said. “Are you going to order a drink?”

  Max laughed. “You’re fast, aren’t you? So what’s your story?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I fucking mean, sweetheart,” Max said. “You show up where I’m hanging two times in a row? Standing there, looking around, looking right for me. Come on now.”

  I felt the color leave my face. It was a terrible mistake to make. I hadn’t set things up to be a casual encounter. I forcefully put myself there in the dive bar, seated across from Max, his eyes all over me in a way that I didn’t want.

  “I don’t know about you, Max, but I’m here for a cold drink. A little attention, maybe.”

  “You’ll get plenty of that, sweetheart,” Max said. He slid from the booth. “I’m going to grab a beer and have a smoke. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

  He started to walk away and I had to chase after him. I grabbed his hand, knowing what I was going to do next. The second my hand touched his, fire erupted inside me. It was a mix of having a decent memory in my life combined with how good-looking he was.

  Max turned. “Sweetheart—”

  “We go back,” I said. “I can’t believe you don’t remember me.”

  “What is this?”

  “You were my first kiss, Max,” I said. “You don’t remember that?”

  He studied me. “You know how many women I’ve kissed in my life? I don’t keep track of the cherries I’ve popped. Sorry, sweetheart. I’m not who you think I am. If I was your first, then you really didn’t give a shit about yourself.”