“Steele?” he grated out.
“Yeah?”
“Find a new fucking topic. Or I’ll make you scrub bug guts off our bikes with your face.”
“Just sayin’,” he muttered with a shrug, either not sensing or giving a shit about his bad mood. Captain thought it was the former. The ex-Marine had some thick ass skin. And a really big mouth.
He widened his eyes. “Why are you still here?”
“Forgot to tell you something,” he said as he stood up. “Frost said he’d stop by Hades tomorrow morning for breakfast. He needs to see you.”
Dammit.
The only news Detective Frost brought them was bad. He was an old military buddy of Steele’s. Unlike most of the brothers, Steele didn’t have a record. He did the occasional bounty hunting gig on the side. Frost let him know when some asshole slipped through the legal cracks, so the club could administer some vigilante justice.
He figured they were due for a shit storm. It had been quiet, too quiet lately. A little over a month ago, they’d raided a rival club’s whorehouse/porn studio. The Raptors had been trafficking in young women, and using them for profit. The Horsemen had freed everyone, destroyed the studio, and made off with some of the cash, and the closed circuit camera feeds.
The Raptors hadn’t retaliated yet, which was an ominous fucking sign. Maybe Frost had some Intel on their end game.
“I’ll be there,” Captain promised.
“Right, boss. I’ll be off, if you’re sure you don’t need any help …”
“I’m sure,” he growled.
“You wanna play a game of pool? We’ve been talkin’ about gettin’ a game together, maybe placin’ bets. Could be fun.”
“No, thanks.” Though, it sounded more fun than sittin’ here broodin’ about Frost. He generally avoided hangin’ out with the guys though.
“Have it your way, boss.” With a mock salute, Steele headed over to another table and sat down with Coyote and Axel. Sighing, Captain rubbed the bridge of his nose. Yeah, bein’ president could be a real pain in the ass.
Eddie drifted over to him and he immediately sat up straighter in his chair. Damn, but she still made him feel like a prospect. “Everything okay?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Since when is anything ever okay with us? We’re lightning rods for trouble.”
She laughed. “So what fresh hell is this?”
“Frost is meeting me for breakfast tomorrow. He’s got some news.”
She whistled. “Damn.”
“My sentiments exactly. Why don’t you come with me? We can have breakfast together at eight.”
Maybe Steele was right, inviting her to a meet and greet was a chicken shit move. He’d never had the balls to ask her out on an actual date. He’d always been afraid she’d shoot his ass down. So, he’d settled for near dates, or fake dates. They’d done breakfast, lots of times, but always with someone else, usually Elizabeth, her son’s fiancé.
Her eyes skittered away from his. “Uh, I don’t know. I’m not much of a morning person.” She dug the cell from the pocket of her jeans and checked the time. “It’s nearly two now.”
He never backed down. Even though she seemed to be reluctant to take it further, he sensed some attraction on her part, but she never acted on it. He’d often wondered what it was. Loyalty to her husband? Maybe the age gap between them made her nervous. Regardless, he needed to see if he could push past it. They deserved a real shot.
“I’d appreciate the moral support. Besides, you have to eat, right?”
“I guess. Who else is going to be there besides the detective?” she asked. “Shouldn’t you be inviting Shepherd?”
Of course, he should ask Shep. And, sure, Frost would be there. “Yeah, I’ll text him, but I want you there, too.” Yep, an intimate table for four.
She picked up his empty beer bottle and placed it on her tray. “Okay. I’ll meet you there.” Then, she dashed away.
Captain couldn’t help but admire the sway of her hips as she walked. So much for asking her on a date.
But at least he would see her in the morning–that was something to look forward to.
He grabbed his gear and headed for the door. As he passed by Steele’s table, the bastard started making clucking noises, like a goddamn chicken. Coyote and Axel looked away, but their shoulders were shaking with what he suspected was laughter.
For a moment, he pondered how good his fist might look smack dab in the middle of Steele’s face. “I swear to God, boy, you ain’t got the sense the good Lord gave a lemon.”
He frowned. “I ain’t rightly sure what citrus fruit has to do with it.”
Captain grabbed a discarded lime wedge from the table. “I could shove this up your nostril and show you.”
Steele made a face. “Shit! I was only havin’ some fun, man.
“Well, I’m about to have my own fun if you don’t shut your yap.”
He held up his hands. “Sorry, brother.”
“No problem.” Captain stalked toward the door. “You have yourself a real good night,” he called.
Chapter Two
The next morning, Eddie woke up thirty minutes before her alarm went off. Dammit. She hated when her body turned traitor and robbed her of much-needed sleep. With a groan, she pulled the covers over her head and tried to get back to sleep, but it was useless.
Managing Perdition called for a nocturnal lifestyle. When most people were getting up to go to work, she was headed to bed. And vice-versa. The bar usually opened around noon every day, though the staff sometimes came in a bit earlier to restock, clean, and other tasks. It didn’t close until two in the morning weekdays, and four on the weekends.
She’d never been much of a morning person to begin with, but keeping her schedule came with certain sacrifices. Namely, being a member of the waking world. So getting up for breakfast this early was a chore. She’d only had about four hours of sleep and she felt like a fucking zombie. Her eyes were gritty, as though someone had scooped sand into them. Rubbing at one, she threw her feet over the side of the bed, only to nearly collide with Ruby, her new pocket beagle puppy, a present from Elizabeth.
“Mornin’ Ruby,” she mumbled as the wiggly fur ball danced around her legs. After a quick trip to the bathroom, she poured the puppy a bowlful of chow, which she promptly devoured while Eddie waited for her coffee to brew.
She was grateful for the distraction the dog offered. Sometimes she hated being alone in this big house by herself. Since the boys had left, it felt empty. She missed the sound of their laughter, their footfalls on the stairs when they came home from school. They hadn’t lived with her for years, but their memories lingered on.
Just like Joker’s memory.
They’d bought this house together, a real fixer upper with a leaky roof and thousand other little flaws he’d spent weekends fixing. Sometimes, she felt as if she lived with Joker’s ghost, or at least the remains of what their time together had been. He'd carved out distinct places in her life she’d never been able to fill again. Like, she didn't sleep on his side of the bed. She'd never taken over his empty dresser. There were two sinks in her bathroom, one she never used. Not to mention a basement full of woodworking tools she never touched.
She absently rubbed the wedding ring on the chain around her neck. She’d looped it through Joker’s Horsemen pendant necklace. He’d given it to her shortly after they got together. The ring hadn’t been exactly to her taste, it was yellow gold instead of white. She’d always wanted something edgy, like an emerald instead of a diamond. Maybe because her parents’ marriage had been such a mess. She’d wanted to buck tradition and do something different.
But her man had picked it out and she didn’t have the heart to tell him different. She loved the man, so she loved the ring he’d bought for her.
The way he’d looked up at her as he knelt at her feet.
Shaking off the memory, she poured herself a cupful of coffee, added both cream and sugar to it. Then, began t
o mentally plan her day. Eddie always kept busy. She looked for things to do and Perdition gave her plenty— alcohol orders to complete, accounting to be done, schedules to be organized. Filling her days, stopped those intrusive thoughts. She doubted if she took the time to examine her life she’d like what she saw – how truly empty it was.
But then does anyone’s dreams ever come true? As soon as she’d graduated high school, she started applyin’ for jobs. She’d wanted to get the hell out of Kentucky. Most of the girls she went to school with, were getting married straight out of school.
Hell, some of them didn’t even wait.
But she hadn’t wanted to spend her life in Bean Station, Kentucky havin’ babies and repeating her momma’s life. Instead, she’d answered an ad in the paper, looking for people to work in the oil fields of Texas. She’d gotten a job as a secretary and worked there until she’d gotten pregnant. Joker had been making decent money by then, so they didn’t need her income as well.
Things had really taken off, once the drug money had come in, but that’s what had ultimately led to the downfall of the club. And she’d been left with a husband in jail, an astronomical mortgage, legal fees she had no hope of paying, and two kids to raise by herself.
When she’d finally raised the money to start Perdition, she’d been the only worker. Between the accounting, the bartending, and janitor duties, she’d barely seen her kids the first two years. She still felt guilty. Ryker and Axel had lost both parents for a while until the business took off.
She finished the coffee, petted Ruby, and then headed for Hades, the club’s diner and hotel. It had a fifties vibe to it, which she loved. The floor was black and white, accented by the red vinyl-topped steel stools at the counter. Texas memorabilia decorated the walls.
She sucked in a breath when she saw Captain at the counter dressed in a pair of weathered jeans clinging to his body like a second skin. Why did the man have to be so damn attractive? He made her stomach flip like she was some sort of lovesick teenage girl. It was embarrassing.
Today, he wore a black Ramones T-shirt underneath his Horsemen cut. He had blond spiked hair, piercing blue eyes, and a black leather cuff around one wrist. He had a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. And wore a pair of aviator glasses tucked into his hair. He had a thing for punk music–Billy Idol, Sid Vicious, The Clash. When he’d prospected for the club, he even wore safety pins all over his clothes. Thank God, he’d mostly moved out of his punk phase.
Captain was talking to Voodoo, one of the brothers who owned and operated Hades. Back in New Orleans, Voo had been a chef before Katrina came to town and washed half of it away. He’d moved to Texas to start over and joined the club. He had warm mocha-colored skin, and silvery eyes. His dark hair was twisted into short dreadlocks, which came down just below his ears. Today, he wore the hell out of a red muscle shirt and a pair of black leather pants.
He glanced at her over Captain’s shoulder. “Bonjour, mon ange, you look delectable this morning.” Voo had a heavy Creole inflection, particularly when he spoke with women. He knew the ladies love a man with an accent and he was an outrageous flirt. As she approached the counter, he held out his hand and she took it. He dropped a kiss over her knuckles.
Captain scowled at Voodoo. “Why you always gotta touch people?”
Eddie stifled a laugh.
“We should sit down,” Captain said tersely, steering her towards one of the booths.
“By all means. I’ll bring your breakfasts in a moment,” Voo said.
“Looks like we’re the first ones to arrive,” he remarked. “Shep and Frost should be along in a moment.”
She nodded. Frankly, she’d relax a bit when they got here. This felt like too much of a date. There were so many reasons to not pursue anything with him.
For one, this was a tight-knit group. If she dated him and it went to shit, it would divide the club. She knew the brothers would choose sides. And there were others, of course – the age gap, for one. And the most important reason, Joker. Letting another man into her life felt disloyal somehow.
A few minutes later, Voo appeared with their breakfasts. He usually never let you order in his restaurant. He preferred to bring something you would like and he was always right. She got a short stack of buttermilk pancakes with a side of turkey sausage, which she’d been craving, and Captain received an egg white omelet with dry wheat toast.
“What the fuck is this?” Captain said, peering at his plate.
Eddie cut into her pancakes like she didn’t have a care in the world.
Lexie, Captain’s daughter, had called earlier in the week, concerned. The doctor said his cholesterol was a bit high. Captain ate most of his meals at the diner, so Eddie asked Voo to make some heart-healthy meals.
Voo sighed. “I made you an omelet with green peppers, mushrooms, onion, and yogurt cheese.”
“What the fuck is yogurt cheese?”
Voo spoke to the president like he was the world’s stupidest five-year-old. “It’s cheese, made of yogurt.”
“Cheese should never be made of yogurt. Where’s the biscuits? The bacon? The sausage gravy?” He lifted the dish as though the high fat food had somehow slid beneath it. Then his eyes narrowed on Eddie. “You did this, didn’t you?”
She didn’t even bother trying to deny it. “You bet your ass I did. According to your doctor, you need to eat better. Lexie told me all about it.”
His expression softened. “I shouldn’t have told her. Yeah, my cholesterol is up, but I’m not on death’s door or anything.” He groaned. “Fuck. I shoulda kept that shit to myself.”
“I’m glad you said something. You can’t eat like a teenager anymore.” She wagged a finger at him. “No more sausage. No more bacon. And you should eat something green and leafy now and then. You might live longer.”
“It’ll just seem longer without bacon and biscuits,” he muttered. Then, glanced down at her plate. “You could always give me a bite of yours.”
“It’s turkey sausage,” she said, with a hint of smugness.
“Ugh. No thanks.” Then, a small, pleased smile curled his lips. “But thank you for looking out for me.”
It was something a wife would do and she hadn’t even thought twice about it. Damn. “Yeah, well, anything for a friend,” she said airily.
A big lie, right there. She had much more than friendly feelings for him. The attraction couldn’t be helped, but she didn’t have to act on it.
He locked eyes with her. “Is that what I am, Eddie? A friend?”
“Of course,” she said quickly, trying to get past the awkward relationship talk. “And, if it helps, I feel your pain. Voo makes the best cathead biscuits in the state.” So-called because they were literally as big as a cat’s head.
Captain watched her, clearly not willing to laugh it off this time or pretend it wasn’t happening. His voice lowered. “I could be something more to you.”
She took a sip of coffee and glanced at the door, waiting for the cavalry to rescue her. They needed a buffer. Pronto. Where the hell was Shep?!
“Well?” he asked. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s time for Shep to arrive.”
As if bidden, Shepherd pulled into the parking lot. She barely resisted the urge to pump her fist in the air. She owed that boy some homemade pie for his good timing. He cut the engine and loped in the door.
“Saved by the veep,” Captain quipped.
Shep looked like shit. His jeans and shirt were rumpled and he had a day or two’s worth of stubble on his chin. Big purplish bags sat beneath his blue eyes. He looked like he could use a hot shower and maybe a week’s worth of sleep.
What the hell?
He slid into the booth beside her, and kissed her cheek. “Hey,” he mumbled.
“Mornin’, kid,” she said, brushing a lock of blond hair from his handsome face in a motherly fashion. While he wasn’t her actual son, he certainly felt like one. Growing up, he’d spent a lot of time in her hom
e and she loved him dearly.
Shep and Captain nodded to each other in greeting, then did a monosyllabic grunting thing, which she guessed passed for a hello in caveman land.
“And now that we’ve made nice. What the hell is going on with you?” she said, waving a hand at his clothing. “You look like you’ve been shot at and missed. Then, shit at and hit.”
“How’d you know? Got shit on this morning,” he said, deadpan.
She gritted her teeth. “I’m not in the mood for games. Tell me what’s goin’ on.”
“Nothing,” he said, setting his jaw.
“Fine, be stubborn. For now. But don’t think this is the last conversation we’ll have on the matter.”
Something was seriously wrong with Shepherd. He’d been slowly unraveling the past few weeks. Anyone with eyes could see it, but so far he’d kept it to himself. She was sick with worry. Sooner or later he’d tell her, even if she had to yank it out of him.
He fired off a salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
Fetch, one of the prospects, came over to the table. “We got fresh donuts from Devilicious this morning. Want one?” he asked Shep.
Fetch had a lean and lanky build, with long red-hair he’d pulled back at the base of his neck. He had pale skin, which made Eddie wonder if he wore sunscreen all the time. The intense Texas sun turned everyone a shade of brown eventually.
Shep nodded. “Yeah. And I’d love a beer.”
The prospect’s eyes rounded, but he went off to retrieve the order.
“Beer for breakfast?” she asked, even more alarmed. He never drank in the morning.
“Don’t start.” He sighed. “I’ve built up a tolerance. It’s only one bitty beer.”
“Are you hungover or what?” Captain asked.
He shook his head and then squinted at the president’s plate. “What the fuck is that shit?”
She rolled her eyes. Well, he was damn good at diversionary tactics.
“Health food,” Captain growled, and then patted his stomach. “Do you know they make cheese out of yogurt?”
Devil May Care (Four Horsemen MC Book 4) Page 2