HANDS OFF MY WOMAN: Padre Knights MC

by Claire St. Rose

  “All of my clients are confidential.”

  “Then how do people check your references?” Dakota asked.

  He hadn’t realized that she had been listening to their conversation. “We normally work through referrals,” Adam answered. It was a baseball player that wanted to score hookers and prescription painkillers that had been their first foray into personal security. The player had a cousin that was a member of Scarred Angels. He hired them to escort him around take him to the coolest bars, take him to places where he could meet easy women and score easy drugs. It was easy, and the player told other players, and every time the team won a home game they hired the gang for “protection.” Players got traded and talked with other players and the gang started getting steady work. Players dated models and professional party girls who dated executives and Scarred Angels worked their way up the ladder. Now Adam was driving a car with the heir to the Kane fortune sulking in the back seat.

  He looked in the rear view mirror and was surprised to see Dakota’s critical eyes staring at him. He held that contact for a moment before remembering that he had the heir to the Kane fortune in the backseat and should probably keep an eye on the road.

  The Opera Theater was lit up a pale blue, which was ironic considering the benefit was for the Red Cross. The local news, paparazzi, and various onlookers were all shouting and pointing from behind the dividers that so effectively separated the haves from the have not’s. Adam slowed as he entered the long queue of matching black cars inching their way towards the entrance. Everyone seemed to know the car by the license plate; he was waved past security without even needing to roll down his window. It was like riding with Moses; everywhere Adam drove cars moved out of the way and police ushered pedestrians onto the sidewalk so the car could maneuver easily. He pulled up to the entryway and quickly hopped out to open the door. Marley climbed out first and took a second to pull her short dress down.

  “Thank you, but you don’t have to open the door for us. We can manage that,” Dakota said quietly as she stood up and smoothed her dress down her stomach.

  “Of course,” Adam said, trying not to look at her. “Your lawyer gave you my cellphone number, correct?” he asked, again unable to look at her for some reason.

  “It’s in my phone,” she responded, and he could hear a hint of annoyance in her voice.

  “Could you call me so I can make sure it works?” he asked.

  There was, a sigh, a very audible sigh and she dug around in her purse to pull out her phone. His line rang and, with a nod, he cancelled the call.

  “I’ll be around. Call me when you’re ready to go and I will pick you up. Call me if there are any issues.”

  “Will do,” she answered over her shoulder as she walked inside, leaving Adam to drive the car to the parking lot alone. The car joined all the others in the VIP section, rows and rows of the newest BMW and Lexus’s all gleaming in the lamplight. It was such a shame to have these amazing pieces of technology and only use them to drive people from one place in the city to another. He sighed and leaned back against the car, unsure of what to do with himself now. He wanted a cigarette, but he had quit five years ago, a hell he didn’t want to have to do all over again.

  CHAPTER SIX

  So he waited, and waited. He couldn’t leave; he couldn’t go to his apartment or to the club, and he needed to be there in case there was an emergency. But he couldn’t go inside; he hadn’t bought a thousand dollar seat at the table. He had to admit that helping move drugs was at least more interesting than this, and the baseball players had at least been fun and generous with their drugs. The players had wanted protection, but, even more so, they wanted someone to hang out with whom could party. Boredom, he supposed, was one of the downsides to going straight.

  Adam had tried his hardest to keep himself entertained if only to keep himself from wondering what Dakota Kane was doing inside, who she might be talking to, or dancing with. He called the club to check in, got a coffee and a Popular Mechanics, and settled in for a four-hour wait.

  Four hours later, Adam got the text that Marley and Dakota were ready to be picked up. It was eleven-thirty on a Saturday night and Adam desperately wanted to be anywhere that wasn’t this car.

  “After party,” Marley slurred as she tumbled into the backseat with Dakota slipping elegantly in behind her. “After party, after party. Look at this dress; this is an after party dress, so let’s go to the after party.”

  “I should really go to the hosp-” Dakota started before Marley interrupted.

  “Why? Your father is resting comfortably. He’s not awake. He won’t know you're there and if he were awake he would tell you to go out and have some fun. So I’m telling you to go out and have some fun, dammit! You’ve been at the hospital all week. You deserve a night out and I will be making that happen. Do you know that new club, Scarred Angels?” Marley asked Adam. “We would like to go there please.”

  Adam’s stomach dropped to his feet. These two girls wanted to go to his club? In truth, getting Dakota Kane as a regular at his club would be a huge deal for them, but he also knew there were plenty of unsavory characters in the dark corners of Scarred Angels.

  “What’s Scarred Angels?” Dakota asked, “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Don’t know, but Jen and Tiffany were there the other night and said it was fun. Kind of dirty and old school, plus I’m sick of Club Lala. Let’s try something new.”

  Adam had balked at the word “dirty” to describe his club, but, for some reason, when he went to open his mouth and tell them he worked there, nothing came out. He didn’t want to have to go into a whole thing and tell these girls his life story. There was no need for them to know. He had a job to do and, since he could navigate Scarred Angels with his eyes closed, he decided it was the best possible outcome for the after party.

  They arrived at the club and Adam handed the keys off to one of the kids working the valet. The line was around the block again, and they got plenty of nasty looks and comments as the two girls and Adam swept past the poor fools waiting in line.

  “Two,” Adam said to the bouncer who gave him a nod and opened the door, allowing the three of them inside. The club was in full swing. The DJ was playing a mix of electronic and dance music and the crowd was packed on the floor. Red, blue, and orange lights swung around making it feel like they were inside a giant spinning kaleidoscope, but in a good way.

  “Jen and Tiffany are over there,” Marley shouted over the music pointing to the VIP section where Joey himself stood, watching over the velvet rope that admitted only a select few.

  “Yo, man! I did not expect to see you here tonight!” Joey shouted as Adam let Marley and Dakota into the VIP section.

  “They wanted to go to an after party,” Adam explained.

  “And you brought them here? Nice.”

  “No, it was their idea.”

  “Dakota Kane knows who we are. We have officially made it.”

  The girls drank vodka seltzers and tipped the waitresses well. They mostly hung out in a private booth talking with about six other friends that had appeared. They all wore matching shiny and short dresses, except for Dakota who stood out in her tasteful black number. But even though he was on his home turf and nothing had gone wrong, Adam still couldn’t relax. Was bringing Dakota here a good idea? Someone had tried to kill her father less than a week ago, and very well might want to kill her. What would happen if she died on his watch in his club? Scarred Angels would never survive. So with that excuse, Adam didn’t take his eyes off her all night.

  “So what’s she like?” Joey asked, nodding towards Dakota.

  “Fine, I guess. We’ve only said like two words to each other so far.”

  After getting properly sloshed on top shelf vodka, the girls moved down onto the dance floor. Adam stayed on the balcony in the VIP section and leaned against the railing, his eyes never leaving Dakota. She walked with her friends, but soon let herself be separated from them, moving through th
e crowd until she was at the center of the dance floor. She let her hair down and it fell in loose curls around her shoulders. And as a new song started, she began to dance, moving her feet, hips, and hands with the music, her body graceful and lithe. She swayed with the beat, and even though Adam was too far away to know for sure, it looked like her eyes were closed, like she was lying back and letting the music move through her. He couldn’t help but imagine himself down there with her, his hands on her hips, kissing her neck, moving with her. It was a stupid little fantasy; Dakota Kane, the rich heiress, would never want anything to do with the help. But still, they would have fit nicely together.

  Then, there was a commotion at the door. A fight had broken out; he could see other members of Scarred Angels rushing to get it under control. Fortunately, no one on the dance floor had noticed it, but if they did, it could have turned into a stampede. Without panicking, Adam jumped down the stairs and moved confidently through the dancers. With his height and build it wasn’t tough to move through a crowd; most people willingly got out of his way. He kept working his way to the center where he had last seen Dakota.

  He saw the lace back of her dress first and, without thinking, put his hand on her lower back. She jumped away from him, turning around to face him, furious. He held his hands up in a mock surrender.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “Let’s get off the dance floor for a minute.”

  “Why”

  “A fight’s broken out by the door,” he said, bringing his face close to hers so she could hear him.

  “It’s a club. There’s always going to be a fight somewhere,” she said. “I was just starting to have a good time.”

  But Adam could hear the fighting, the sound of tables being moved and people shouting. It was time to go, now. “I think we should get you out of here, just to be safe.”

  “Seriously, no. It’s just a little fight. I don’t want to leave.” She was drunk, not a blackout mess, but definitely over the limit. Her face was tinged with red and she was slurring her words a little bit.

  Adam also noticed an overly-gelled guy circling her like a hawk. “Back off,” he ordered the guy, who gave him a dirty look, but still backed down.

  “Stop it,” Dakota said, taking a moment to realize what he had done.

  “Look, it’s my job to protect you, so that’s what I’m doing. It’s late, the club is closing in an hour; why don’t I take you home now.”

  “Why, so your job can be a little easier? No thanks. I came out to have a good time and that’s just what I’m going to do,” and with that Dakota turned away from him and slipped into the dancing crowd that was all around them.

  Adam was stunned. The people on the dance floor ebbed and flowed around him as he stood staring at the place where Dakota Kane had stood. She really thought she could get away so easily? She had no idea who she was dealing with.

  Within five minutes, everybody working at the club had eyes on Dakota, including Adam. When she got a drink, he knew about it. When she was on the dance floor, he knew where she was. And so, near two o’clock, after Marley had left with some guy and Dakota made her stumbling way towards the entrance, Adam was there waiting for her.

  “Are you ready to leave?” he asked, trying hard to keep his voice emotionless.

  “Yes,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest and refusing to look him in the eye.

  Normally he would have gone and got the car for her, driving around to pick her up. But now he couldn’t trust that she would be there, so together, in an incredibly awkward silence, they walked to the car. The music from the club was still seeping out onto the sidewalk, mixing with the noise of traffic and overheard conversations. Dakota walked a good three feet away from Adam and she was again immersed in her phone, barely managing to walk in a straight line.

  He let her open her own door and they drove home in silence. Back at the Kane home, he dropped Dakota off and parked the car in the garage. It was only his first day and, somehow, he was exhausted. All he wanted to do was go home, smoke a joint, and go to bed, but he was sleeping at the Kane home that night, and who knew how many nights after.

  By the time he got inside, Dakota was nowhere to be found, but when he went upstairs to check on her, he could hear a shower running. So he let her be. The Kane home at night was surprisingly creepy; there were endless hallways leading to other hallways and more doors than he could count. There were paintings on the wall of old fashioned people whose eyes followed him everywhere he went and weird, modern art that was nothing more than violent streaks of color spread across the frame. Everything was spotless and perfect and Adam felt like the proverbial bull in a china shop. Every time he would brush by a table in the hallway, he would have to turn around to grab some knickknack or vase before it fell.

  He walked down into the basement, past the kitchen and into the servant's quarters where he would be staying in his tenure as glorified chauffeur. But he felt more at home down there anyway. There were comfortable looking couches and a flat screen TV, not too bad at all. Before he went to sleep he entered the “command room” where all the security was handled. Monitors flashed over green-tinged night vision of the yard and the various other structures on the property. But everything was quiet. All of the sensors on the windows and doors had been activated and if anyone opened anything, an alarm would wake him up.

  He undressed, leaving his clothes on a pile near the door and slumped into the, admittedly, very comfortable bed. The room was sparse: a bed, dresser, and small TV, no art on the walls, no pictures, very clean and sterile. It reminded him a little bit of his room at the Kane Home for Boys, only he had shared that room with three other kids. He lay on his back and looked out the lone window in his room. The servants were in the basement (naturally) so his windows were level with the ground outside. But still, he could see the wind pushing the grass and dark night behind it. He wondered what his younger self would think of him right now sleeping in the Kane mansion. Only he wasn’t a guest; he was an employee. Everything was simultaneously different and exactly the same.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Her father awoke at seven-thirty on a Tuesday morning. Dakota had found Adam sipping coffee and staring at the wall of security screens, dressed quickly and drove her to the hospital in record time. Her father’s eyes were tired, but they were open and when she walked into the room, he held his shaky hand out to her and she took it gratefully, kissing the back, unable to keep the tears from falling. He was finally awake, but he was not yet in any position to go home. He had to stay and she needed to be patient.

  “Dad, this security thing is unnecessary. I’m staying at the house and no one has tried to hurt me. There haven't been any threats or anything. I think we can let Adam go.”

  “No, no, no,” her father whispered from his bed. “You are the only thing in this world that I love, Dakota. I need you to be kept safe. I know you think it’s unnecessary, but do your poor, old father a favor and indulge me in this. Let us keep the security measures until the police know who attacked me. Then, we can talk about it.”

  “So, this is a forever thing?” Dakota asked.

  “It’s a shame that it has to be this way, but we live in a dangerous world. We could only remain untouched for so long. Now we must be careful.”

  “I don’t like it, Dad. It’s smothering.”

  “You’ll get used to it. I promise. You just need to be patient, give yourself time to adjust.”

  She needed to be patient. Patience was the last thing she was thinking about. She didn’t want to be patient. Dakota would never have admitted it out loud, but she was sick of this hospital. It hurt her to see her father looking so grey and old in the hospital bed. And she was sick of Adam Mendel. He was always there, knowing where Dakota was going to be before she even got up to move. She couldn't open a door anymore without seeing Adam’s smirking face on the other side.

  He was always around. He wouldn’t let her drive anywhere on her own; when she came to ho
spital, he did to. Her benefits, her board meetings, there was always some six-foot biker waiting in the corner. She wanted her life back. She wanted to go to a coffee shop and sip a latte without having someone there who needed to check the exits. She wanted to reopen her house. Seeing the darkened windows and locked off areas depressed her. She wanted to go out when she wanted and leave when she wanted. She was tired of being twenty-six and having a babysitter. She was tired of all her friends asking if he was single. She had no idea and didn’t care to find out.

  The last time she had managed to relax was when she had danced alone at Scarred Angels. That was, until Adam had interrupted her and ordered her to leave. Her one chance to be free and forget everything and he had barged in and started giving her orders. She hadn’t been to the women’s shelter or the boys’ home since her father’s accident; she couldn't exactly walk in there with her tall, muscle bound, gun-toting bodyguard.

  Waiting was driving her crazy. The police still had no idea who had attacked her father; they had no clues, no leads. Whoever had attacked John Kane had manually opened the gate, driven down the lane, shot up his bedroom, and left. They had no license plate number, no description of the attackers, nothing. One of the richest men in the country had been attacked and no one knew anything.