BRICK (Lords of Carnage MC)

by Daphne Loveling

  He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but his brow furrows, so I can tell he doesn’t like my rationale. I resist the urge to keep explaining myself — after all, what business is it of his? I think crossly. I’m done trying to justify myself. He can just leave if he doesn’t like it.

  “Do you have a security system?” he challenges.

  “No. I don’t.” My tone is defiant. I’d thought about installing one when I first opened up, but honestly, it just seemed too expensive. I’m not about to tell him that, though.

  “How often do you close this late?”

  “It’s not even that late,” I protest. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I’m pissed off at myself for even answering him. “Look, Gavin,” in a tone that clearly says I’m being patient but I don’t need to keep listening to this. “Am I to assume that you came here specifically to critique my decisions about how late to keep my coffee shop open?”

  “Sydney,” he says, his tone exasperated. “You’re a woman alone, in plain sight of anyone driving by. You know you’re a sitting duck, right?” He runs a rough hand through his hair. “Pepper spray or not. And by the way, pepper spray doesn’t always work. It doesn’t affect everyone. And if an intruder is high enough, or drunk enough, it probably won’t do much.”

  “Look, what is this about?” I ask impatiently. “Are you trying to tell me you stopped by my shop after it was closed because you just suddenly got incredibly concerned for my welfare? I don’t remember asking you to stop by and give me your thoughts on how to run my business.” My voice is rising, but I don’t care. “And besides, I’m not an idiot! And I would appreciate it if you’d stop treating me like one. I’m not completely helpless, you know.”

  Up until now, he’s been looking all over the place, like he’s been scanning the whole shop for weaknesses and vulnerabilities or something. But finally, he stops looking around and fixes me with a dark, impenetrable stare.

  “There’s been a crime wave here in Tanner Springs lately,” he says simply. “Break-ins, burglaries. An arson, from the looks of it.”

  I vaguely remember reading something about that in the local paper a little bit ago. It didn’t really seem like that big of a deal, though, even though the paper made it sound like the damn sky was falling. I mean, I’m from the city. Shit happens. Usually to people who aren’t paying attention.

  “Okay,” I shrug. “So like I said, I’ll be careful. Besides, what are they going to take? A few pounds of Kona and Blue Mountain to sell on the black market?” I joke.

  “People have gotten hurt, Sydney,” Gavin says quietly.

  “I don’t think a coffee shop is going to be high on the list of places to rob,” I argue. “The most valuable thing in here is the espresso machine, and how would they even get it out of here without calling attention to themselves?”

  “Yeah. But they could see a vulnerable woman, all alone in the shop, taking money out of the cash register,” he says pointedly. “That’s almost as easy as just breaking into a place without an alarm system and helping yourself to whatever you want.”

  “You know, Tanner Springs doesn’t really seem like a hotbed of criminal activity. Some dumb kids robbing people for petty cash don’t really scare me that much.” I cock my head at him. “In fact, you and your club buddies seem like the most dangerous things around here. Shouldn’t I be more afraid of having you in my shop while I’m all alone here?”

  He pauses for a beat, his eyes still boring into mine.

  “Yeah,” he rumbles. One corner of his mouth turns up in a wicked half-smile that sends a sudden shiver up my spine. “You probably should.”

  12

  Sydney

  “What kind of cash do you usually have on hand in the register?”

  We’re standing behind the counter now, because for some reason, instead of kicking him out ten minutes ago like I should have, I’m still listening to him tell me how I’m putting myself in danger of being robbed or worse.

  “Not a lot,” I tell him. “You might not believe this, but a small-town coffee shop is not exactly a huge money-maker.”

  I don’t know why I’m even answering his questions at this point. And I’m still pissed that he thinks he has a right to ask them, since they’re none of his business.

  “You have a safe?”

  “Yes, I have a safe,” I say, a touch angrily, my eyes flicking toward the back office.

  “How much is usually in there?”

  “Seriously,” I complain. “These are exactly the kinds of questions you’d be asking if you were planning to rob me.”

  “If I were trying to rob you, I’d already have walked out the door with whatever I wanted.”

  “Is that right?” I stick out my chin.

  “That’s right.” He takes a step closer. “You don’t believe me?”

  “I think you’re underestimating my ability to defend myself.”

  Before I even know what’s happening, Gavin’s hands are locked around my upper arms, pulling me close enough to him that I’m basically immobilized.

  “Really?” His voice turns low, slightly menacing. “Looks to me like you might be overestimating your ability.”

  A sharp spike of adrenaline jolts through me as my brain struggles to catch up to what just happened. He’s definitely in control now, but I do my best to force my face not to show that I know it. Gavin’s arms are like steel bands, and he’s pinned me against the counter in such a way that I couldn’t even move my legs enough to knee him in the groin if I had to.

  “Well, sure,” I say defiantly. There’s a little wobble in my voice, and I hope he can’t hear it. “You’ve got me now. But in a real-life situation, I never would have let you get this close to me in the first place.”

  “This is a real-life situation,” he growls. “And you told me yourself, I seem like the most dangerous thing around here. But you still let me into your shop at night, and let the only other person here with you go home. We’re locked in here now, just the two of us, and your phone and pepper spray — which you voluntarily told me all about — are out of your reach.”

  “I…” I fight to push down a tiny little spike of fear as I realize what he’s saying. Gavin’s eyes are boring into mine now, his face completely devoid of expression. I don’t know how to respond. He’s not really… I mean… is he? The possibility that I may have actually walked right into a trap like a complete idiot makes my heart begin to thud in my chest.

  “Admit I’m right,” he insists.

  He’s so close now that the rasp of his voice, deep and husky, sends an electric thrill through me. In spite of myself, my body is actually responding to him. To this. To his rough, callused hands. To the heat of his body, so close to mine. Everything feels like it’s in hyper-focus right now. Down to his full, sensual lips that I can’t help but realize are just inches from mine.

  The little spike of adrenaline I felt just now wasn’t fear. Not really. It was something else.

  Desire. Lust.

  “Admit it.”

  If he wants to do something to me, there’s no way I can fight him off, I realize. It’s pointless to struggle. If he really is here to hurt me, then he’s right. I walked right into it.

  And if he’s here for something else, God help me but I probably won’t resist at all.

  “Okay,” I whisper. “I admit it. You’re right.”

  Gavin’s hands release me, and suddenly he’s three feet away from me, like none of this just happened. I lean weakly against the counter I was pinned against just moments ago. Taking a deep breath, I let it out raggedly but slowly, praying he won’t notice just how much being that close to him has affected me.

  “Now,” he says, his voice suddenly all business again. “Let’s talk about your safe. How much is usually in there?”

  “Honestly,” I say, as we stand in the back office. “If someone wanted all the money in the safe, I’d probably just give it to them. A few thousand dollars isn’t worth enough for me to risk
my life.”

  I’ve mostly recovered from Gavin’s “lesson,” but I’m still a little pissed off at myself. And at him. And a little flustered about my body’s reaction to his. But I don’t have the energy or the bravado to kick him out right now. It’s like somehow, the last few minutes took all the fight out of me.

  “Sure,” he nods. “It’s stupid to risk your life for something as unimportant as money. But that’s not what I’m worried about. It’s that we don’t know the mental state of whoever is committing these break-ins.” He turns to me. “You might think that just handing over the cash would be the end of it. But someone who’s high, or even just nervous, might not be inclined to just let you go. And if they think you’ll go to the cops, and be able to describe them, they might want to scare you enough so you’d think twice about that. Or worse.”

  I don’t ask him to clarify what the or worse could be. A little tremor runs through me.

  “Even with the front door locked, if you’re back here when someone breaks in, you might not have enough time to call 911 or get your pepper spray out. And like I said, chemical agents don’t always work.” His jaw tenses. “And that’s assuming they break in. They might just take an easier route, and wait until you come out — probably with the money from the till in your bag.”

  “So, basically, you’re telling me that no matter what I do, I’m in danger of being robbed, or worse.” I sigh and pull the hair tie out of my hair in frustration, raking my hands through my thick mane. “If that’s the case, what’s your point? Sounds like I can’t avoid it, no matter what precautions I try to take.”

  “No. I’m not saying that. I mean, yes, there’s always some risk. But it makes sense to try to mitigate that risk as much as possible.”

  “How?”

  “Well, for one thing, don’t take your money to the bank at night. Take it during the day, when there are more people around.”

  “Okay, but how does that stop me from getting hurt?” I say smugly. “I mean, am I supposed to carry a sign every night that says, ‘The money from the till is in the safe’? The bad guys won’t know I’m not carrying it.”

  “True,” he admits.

  “Ha!” I crow, pumping my fist.

  “You like, that, huh? Proving me wrong?” For the first time, Gavin smiles. Not just a half-curve of the lip, or the hint of a smirk, but an actual smile that reveals even, white teeth and crinkles the corners of his eyes, totally transforming his whole face.

  It’s dazzling.

  “Yeah. I like that,” I smile back, ignoring the sudden thudding of my heart.

  For a moment, we just stand there, not saying anything. It feels like something maybe passes between us. But then his eyes flick back toward the safe, and I tell myself it was just my imagination.

  “So, you have a good point about the safe,” he nods. “You should definitely start varying the times of day you go to the bank to make deposits. And don’t do it at night anymore. But you need another kind of deterrent. I suggest a security camera or two. And especially a sign in the window that advertises you have them.”

  Even though I hate to admit it, all this talk about break-ins and danger has me just a tiny bit spooked, dammit. For a split second, I think about Devon. Would he ever try to take the money I left town with back from me? Would he actually track me down and try to make me give it back, even though he knows it was mine in the first place?

  Would he really come to Tanner Springs to find me?

  I try to ignore the little hairs that stand up on the back of my neck at the thought.

  “You think so?” I ask, wavering.

  “I do.”

  I take a deep breath, hold it, and let it out noisily. “Okay. You win. I’ll look into it.”

  He smirks at me, eyes twinkling. “Good. I was going to win eventually, so I’m glad you decided to see reason.”

  “Oh, you were, were you?” I say sarcastically.

  “You know I was.” His tone turns teasing. “You’re pretty goddamn stubborn, I’ll give you that, but you’ve got nothing on me.”

  I snort. “God, isn’t that the truth.”

  “It is,” he agrees. “So, next time, let’s just save ourselves the trouble, and you can just cut to the chase and agree with me. Deal?”

  I can’t help it. I laugh out loud. “That’s… unlikely. But a guy can always dream, I guess.”

  This is so weird. It’s so confusing, being around him. I can’t read him at all. I have no idea how we went from him being sullen and demanding, to me being scared half out of my wits thinking he was about to rob me or worse, to now the two of us joking around like we actually like each other.

  I mean, like we’re friends, or something.

  Still, this is way, way more comfortable than being scared of him — or being uncomfortably turned on by him — so I just go with it.

  “I don’t really know where to start, though,” I continue. “I’ve never thought much about this stuff before. Do I just go to the security camera store and say, ‘Hi, please hook me up with some sweet, sweet security’?”

  “Tell you what,” he suggests, leaning against my tiny desk. “Why don’t you let me take care of it?”

  “I couldn’t,” I begin, but he holds up a hand.

  “Look, I’m going to win this argument eventually, remember? So you should just give up now and let it happen. You can reimburse me for the equipment. I’ll install it for free.”

  As I open my mouth to argue, he seems to know what I’m about to say. He holds up his hand again, and gives me a look that says, I’ve already won this argument, and you know it.

  I’m trying to think of some way to put him off — to convince him that I really will get around to contacting someone about coming to the shop and setting up cameras — when suddenly, my mind flashes back to Devon.

  Dammit.

  “Okay,” I say.

  13

  Brick

  It never occurred to me to think of Sydney’s coffee shop as one of the businesses that might be targeted. Not until I was riding past on the way home from the clubhouse tonight and saw that kid in there wiping down tables.

  It’s true that the Golden Cup might not be the most obvious target for whoever’s doing these break-ins. But it’s also true what I said: Anyone with criminal intent who walks or drives by this place at night is going to see Sydney in there and start thinking about ways to break in and overpower her.

  Without some sort of protection, she’s a sitting duck.

  And a smoking hot one, at that.

  Before I knew what I was doing, I was pounding my fist on the door, scaring the shit out of the girl and motioning for her to let me in.

  The longer I’m alone with her in the locked shop, the less I’m worrying about someone robbing Sydney or vandalizing her store, and the more I’m picturing what a guy without a lot to lose might do when he sees a woman who looks like her — alone and just ripe for the taking.

  Because even though Sydney seems like the kind of girl who can definitely handle herself in most situations, I don’t think she really gets what kind of effect she has on the straight male population. How fucking crazy a girl like that can make a man who doesn’t know how — or care — how to control himself. Sydney’s curves could make a grown man sell his damn soul for a night with her. Those wicked, taunting eyes of hers — god damn. A man could lose himself forever in them. I want to see them flutter closed as she loses herself in pleasure. I want to bite her plump, ripe strawberry lips, to see if they taste as sweet as they look.

  The thought of some fucking piece of shit staring at her through the plate glass, making plans of what he wants to do to her unwilling body… It makes me want to puke. And murder anyone who looks at Sydney the wrong way. I don’t want to scare her needlessly. But I want her to be careful, for Christ’s sake. And even though I believe she probably is for the most part, it’s not enough. Not when I don’t know who the hell is out there causing trouble in Tanner Springs, or why.


  I didn’t mean to frighten Sydney when I grabbed her in the back office. I wanted to show her how vulnerable she’d made herself by letting her guard down around me. Until I did it, it seemed like a good way to make the point. But as my hands closed around her upper arms and she realized she couldn’t escape me if she tried, I realized I might have made a horrible mistake. For a second, as her wide, uncertain eyes looked up into mine, I felt like a fucking bastard — like some piece of shit mongrel of a human who gets off on scaring women for fun.

  Worse — much worse — was the realization that she didn’t know me well enough to be sure that I wasn’t.

  I opened my mouth to apologize, even though I was half-afraid she wouldn’t believe me. But just as I did, I saw a flash of defiance transform her features. Her eyes seemed to bore straight through me, like she didn’t buy my little game. Like she was calling my bluff, and didn’t believe for a second I was about to hurt her.

  The relief that flooded my veins came as a complete surprise, almost making me dizzy. I couldn’t believe I’d done something so stupid. Something that came so close to making her never feel like she could trust me.

  And all because I wanted to protect her, ironically.

  I let go of her and took a step back, even more pissed off at myself because I was hard as fucking iron from being so close to her, even for a few seconds. The thing is, I could have almost sworn by the look on her face, by the blush on the skin of her neck — by the way her breathing sped up a little bit when she locked eyes with me — that Sydney was as turned on as I was. But I wasn’t about to take the risk of being wrong. And even if I wasn’t, trying something at that moment was about the worst fucking idea in the history of bad timing.