by Sophia Gray
“I don’t want to fight about anything at all.” He smiled, and I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe he was the good guy the girls told me he was. I wanted to believe he wouldn’t use a sweetheart like Brett, who was clearly in love with him.
I wanted to believe he didn’t share her feelings.
He turned to leave the office. “I’ll leave you to your work. And I’ll tell you when breakfast is ready.” His hand was on the doorknob when I just had to speak, or else lose the moment forever.
“Be careful, okay?”
He turned to me, a confused smile on his face. “With what?”
“Not with what. With whom.”
Confusion touched his hazel eyes, and they narrowed. “Fine, then. With whom?”
I sighed. “Her.”
He smirked. “You were sleeping in my bed,” he said, shrugging. “What was I supposed to do? Climb in with you?”
I blushed. “No.”
“I mean, I could have dumped you in another bed. Axel’s, maybe, or Joe. If you wanted it that way.”
“Stop it,” I said, shaking my head. “Don’t make jokes about using that poor girl.”
His face hardened. “That’s none of your business.”
I shrugged. “She’s a nice girl is all. Be careful with her.”
He turned from the door, walking to the desk in a way that reminded me of an animal stalking its prey. “You don’t need to tell me the kind of girl she is. I know how nice she is. And face it. If you met her on the street, if none of this happened and you just crossed paths out of nowhere, you wouldn’t give her a second glance. Just like me. We’re trash to you. So don’t pretend like you give a shit about any of us.”
I froze in place, feeling the color drain from my face. I must have looked like I saw a ghost. I knew from the satisfied smirk on Vince’s face that my action pleased him. He left the room, closing the door.
Was that true? I sat in the chair, going over his words. Yes, he was right about one thing: I wouldn’t have given any of them the time of day. They weren’t like the people I knew. I couldn’t help it. Just because they were nice people didn’t mean we had to be friends.
And we wouldn’t be. Wasn’t I planning on leaving and never looking back the minute I was given the all-clear? I had no intention of forming relationships with any of them, so what right did I have to tell Vince how to live his life?
Because I wanted him. The thought, sharp and plain, hit me like a bolt from the blue. I wanted him badly. It was no use telling myself I didn’t, that it was just a stupid crush or that I was tricking myself into thinking I liked him because he saved me. I just wanted him. In my arms, in my bed. The sooner, the better.
Oh, this was no good. I folded my arms on the desk and rested my still-aching head on them. Still, somehow just admitting that I wanted him felt like a load was lifted from my shoulders. It was easier to come clean with myself.
He was sexy. A magnet, like the girls described him the night before. They sure seemed to have a good idea about him. I guessed they probably all went through phases at one time or another when they liked him. I couldn’t blame them. I was dangerously close to falling myself.
I shook my head. No way I could let this happen. I couldn’t fall any farther. So what if his eyes were so beautiful I could hardly keep from staring into them? Or if his arms were so strong? Of if the thought of him protecting me made me a little bit wet? I couldn’t let him get into my head. It wasn’t right.
Back to the camera. I needed to get out of there, fast.
I thought back to the idea of wedging something inside. I couldn’t pull the outer case apart far enough to un-jam the switch, and I couldn’t manage to push it open with my bare hands. I had to try something new.
I looked around the desk for something to use and found a letter opener in one of the drawers. I took the rounded handle, which was just thin enough to slide in, and wedged it inside. Then I twisted it slightly. No use. I would need another pair of hands.
As much as I hated doing it, I stuck my head outside the door. There was Vince, sitting by the bar, talking to a couple of the guys. One of them saw me, the big guy—Axel? He got Vince’s attention and nodded toward me. I thought I saw a bit of a smirk on his face, but it seemed good natured enough, so I let it go.
“Could you come here for a minute? I need your hands.”
Bad choice of words, and I knew it almost as soon as they left my mouth. I heard a lot of whistling and jeering when I slinked back into the office, my face flaming hot. When Vince came in, he was biting back a smile.
“You needed my hands?” I looked at him sharply, and he laughed. He had tried, at least, to keep it inside. I had to give him credit for that.
I showed him what I was trying to do, and he understood quickly. “So I’ll sorta pull the two sides apart, to give you room to slide the switch back.”
“Exactly,” I said. The only problem was, the work required us to be very close to one another. He took the camera in his hands, placing it on the desk. I bent over, wedging the letter opener into the slot. He smelled incredible—aftershave, soap, leather. It was such a heady combination, I could hardly think straight.
“Got it?” I asked, and I saw the front and back halves of the camera’s case pull slightly apart as his large hands made easy work of it. I turned the letter opener, forcing the switch back with a satisfying click. The memory card was there! I pressed it in, and it popped out at me.
“We did it!” I looked up at him, and our faces were so close I stopped breathing for a second, and I took in the nearness of him. It felt like my heart stopped beating. All there was in the world was him. I thought I would drown in his eyes.
His mouth was so close to mine. It wouldn’t take anything for me to lean toward him so slightly and brush my mouth against his. What then? What would we do? Maybe he would lay me out across the desk and take me here. Maybe we would sink to the floor, tearing each other’s clothes off. Maybe we would never come out of this room.
I heard my heart thudding in my ears and wondered if he could hear it, too. So close. I felt his breath on my face…
Then there was a crash from the bar, and a smattering of sarcastic applause. It was enough to stop the moment in its tracks. I pulled away, feeling a little woozy. Like I’d just woken up from a long nap. I took a deep, shaky breath.
“Here you are,” I said, handing the card over. “Use it in good health.”
He looked at it, so small in his hand. “Come on,” he said, pulling out the laptop he’d given me. “Let’s find out who we’re dealing with.”
I balked. “Me? You’re sure you want me here when you look at those pictures?”
“Why not?” He popped the memory card into the machine. “Don’t you want to know who’s been causing you all this trouble?”
A grim smile came over my face. Trouble wasn’t even the word for it. “Yeah. I do.”
Chapter Ten
Vince
Erica came around to my right side, leaning over as I clicked through to the memory card.
“Thank God it made it through without breaking,” she murmured. “Those things are strong. I have a few shots on there I’d like to save. You know, once this is all over.”
I started going through them, but I didn’t see anything helpful. Some kids playing jump rope, dogs at the park. “Where’s the stuff I’m looking for?”
She snorted. “They would be the last files, Vince.” She pulled the mouse from my hand and started navigating. I didn’t even care that she was so rough with me. I was intensely aware of her so close to me. She smelled like powder and shampoo and perfume, even though she’d spent the night here and hadn’t showered yet. She still had a clean, fresh smell. She was warm. I looked up out of the corner of my eye and saw the pulse beating in her throat. I was almost overcome by the urge to kiss her there.
I gave myself a mental shake and turned to the screen. Now she was going through the photos she’d taken the night before. Th
ey were all in black and white. “Wow,” I said. “You’re pretty good.”
“You think so?” she asked, glancing down at me before looking at the screen again. Her face went pink.
“Definitely. You see things. Not everybody sees things. Like, opportunities for photos. I would see a homeless guy, some kids eating pizza, whatever. But you see something totally different.” I admired her eye, having never had any talent myself. Even though I didn’t have it, I could appreciate it.
“Thanks,” she murmured. Then she clicked over to the next image. “Okay,” she said. “Here’s the alley.”
I looked at the photo, and right away I saw what she meant about them being perfectly lit. Why did they have to practically pose under that light? She would have walked past them.
“See? That’s the guy,” she said, pointing. “He’s the one who chased me.”
“Yeah, that’s him, all right,” I said, remembering his face in front of me. “Before I broke his goddamned nose, the fucker.”
She snorted. “Yeah, before that.” She clicked over to the next photo. “This is a better one. You can see both of them.”
She was right—I could see them both. And it felt like the bottom dropped out from under my world. My stomach had that weird rollercoaster feeling, though I was sitting still.
“Wait.” I put my hand over hers, holding the mouse still. “Just wait.”
“I think I got a better shot…”
“No!” I didn’t mean to shout, and she jumped back when I did. It was just… “I’m sorry,” I whispered, staring at the screen. “You have no idea what I’m looking at here.” I couldn’t believe it myself, and hoped I was making a huge mistake.
“Who is it?”
“Somebody who’s supposed to be dead.” I heard her gasp, but still couldn’t tear my eyes from the screen. It made no sense. How could it be?
“Who is it?” she asked.
“His name was—is—Lance.” I looked at her, finally out of shock enough to look away from the picture. “Probably was, again, by now. If he was stabbed, like you said.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, moving closer again. “What do you mean he was supposed to be dead?”
“He was one of my men who were supposedly killed last week,” I explained. She gasped again. “There was an explosion in a warehouse where my guys were picking up a shipment of drugs. Three bodies were found, charred beyond recognition. One of the bodies had this big, old class ring on its finger. Lance’s ring. We assumed it was Lance, and didn’t ask for dental records. He didn’t have any family.”
My world was spinning out of control. The implications of this were disastrous. If Lance hadn’t been killed that night at the warehouse, it meant he was working with the Wolves. They probably killed the other two and staged it to make it look like an explosion. The third body was some random person with Lance’s ring on his hand. And the building was blown up.
“He had to be laying low,” I said, pacing the room now. Erica watched, and I could tell from the way she chewed her cuticles that she was scared to death. “They must have found somewhere else for him to live, some safe house. God, he was with them the entire time. How long? How much did he tell them? What did they offer him?” I was close to one of the walls, and punched it. My fist nearly went clear through the drywall. Erica yelped.
“Motherfucker!” I screamed, punching the wall again. “How could he do it? What the fuck was he thinking?”
I looked at her like she could give me an answer. Of course, she couldn’t. She’d never met Lance. She didn’t know how tight we were supposed to be. I’d known him since the day I joined the club ten years earlier. We were both kids then. We grew up together. And he betrayed me.
“What the hell am I gonna do?” I went back to the computer, wishing I was wrong. But there was no question. It was him. Same long hair, same goatee, same slightly hooked nose. He was even wearing his kutte, the son of a bitch. How dare he. After betraying the club the way he had. He couldn’t let it go.
“He regretted it,” I said, everything coming together. “He was sorry he did it. That’s what they were fighting over.”
“You’re sure?” Erica whispered. She didn’t sound so sure.
“You tell me,” I said. “How did it sound when they were fighting?”
She shrugged a little, closing her eyes. “Let me think. Um, the one guy—the Wolf—said something about a deal. How there was no backing out.” Her eyes flew open. “That lines up with what you’re thinking!”
“Right,” I said. “He knew it was a mistake, the asshole. And he wanted out. But there was no way out by then. So the Wolf killed him, because he thought he might come back to me. God, what was he thinking in the first place?”
“Did you guys have a fight or something?”
“No!” I stood up, thinking back to the past year. “We were fine. No problems, no resentment. Lance was always the sort of person who went along, you know? Whatever was best for the club. I never had a problem with him, ever. That’s why this…this fucking hurts.”
I couldn’t hide it. I was in a shit ton of pain. “Something like this makes you question everything,” I said, holding my hands to my head. “I mean, literally everything. Who can I trust? Anyone? Are they all out there, plotting something?”
“No,” Erica said. “No, you can’t think like that. I’ve been watching them. They all love you.”
“I thought he did, too!” I laughed, looking down at her in the chair. “I did. I thought we were like brothers. I fucking mourned that lying sack of shit!” I picked up the camera where it sat on the desk, and threw it at the wall. It broke in two. I heard Erica groan.
“I fucking cried actual tears for him. I thought I let him walk into his death, him and the others. He fucking let them die. He didn’t care. His brothers. He knew they were going to die, and he didn’t try to stop it. He got them killed.” I punched the top of the desk, then kicked another chair across the room.
The lounge went silent. They must have thought I was killing Erica, or myself.
Then, another thought went through my head. “There’s another one out there,” I said.
“Stop saying that.”
“No, it’s true. There’s got to be at least one more.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Lance was never the type of person to do anything alone. He always had to have a partner, someone to back him up. He wasn’t very self-confident. Even when he brought an idea to the table, he had to have at least one person backing him up in advance, or else he wouldn’t mention it.”
“So you think he brought somebody else in with him?”
I nodded. “Or they brought him in.”
“What if it was one of the other guys who supposedly died along with him?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. You could be right, but I don’t think so. Something’s telling me to be on my guard now.” I looked at her, and I felt nothing but despair. “I’m so fucking lost right now,” I admitted. “I don’t know what to think.”
She reached out to me, and I let her touch my face. Brett was the only woman I’d ever opened up to like this, and we were just close friends. Erica was right—I knew she had feelings for me, and she was a good kid, but I never saw her that way. She was a trusted confidante.
Erica was something else. She stroked my face, and it was like a balm.
“I want to help you all that I can,” she whispered.
I jerked backward. “No way,” I growled. Her face went deep red.
“What?” She laughed harshly. “I’m standing here, offering to help you, and you act like I said something awful.”
“You did,” I walked to the other side of the room. “Get out of here.” I put my hand on the knob, ready to open the door.
“Why are you acting this way? I just want to help you.”
“You can’t help me,” I hissed. “I’m part of this world, and you’re part of another world, and I’ll probabl
y be dead soon anyway. One of my own men plotted against me, and another one probably is, too. Alexander York wants me gone, so he can take over the club. Get it? He won’t stop until I’m out of the picture. Why the fuck would you want to be part of this?”
“Because…I want to make it so you don’t have to die…” She looked like she might cry, and I didn’t even care anymore. I was tired of everything.
“Oh, right. Because you’ve been so good at keeping me out of trouble so far.” I smirked at her, shaking my head. “Give me a break. You couldn’t even keep from screaming when you saw the stabbing. What the hell good are you gonna do me now?”