by Kara Parker
Luke wasn’t distracted this time, much as Raven had tried. The approaching footsteps on the concrete gave Dax and Klyde away before they’d even balled their fists. He ducked down and spun, coming up with two fists under each of their chins. He hated Dax the most, so he followed his uppercut with a punch to the nose. There was a sickening cracking noise, and Luke smiled as Dax’s nose began a torrent of blood onto the pavement. Klyde was still recovering from the hit to the jaw. He’d never been able to take a hit. He would never have made it so far in the Reapers hierarchy if his dad hadn’t cut corners for him. Luke longed to make him regret it. He swung out his right fist then his left, landing blows on the stumbling man's face and stomach.
Luke turned back to Raven before Dax even hit the ground. He panted from exertion, his eyes red with rage. There was a faint flicker of fear in her eyes, but he sensed he would have to do much more if he wanted her to leave him alone.
“I’m getting a divorce, Raven.” He spat on the ground at her feet. “Expect to receive the papers soon.”
With that he turned away, kneeing away the prone figures of Dax and Klyde as he made his way back to the doors of the hotel. The thought of any of them doing anything to Shayla drove him mad. He needed to separate himself from Raven, and quick. Who knew how much crazier she would get over time?
Though his body ached, crawling back into bed with Shayla, and having her ride him into oblivion, was the sweetest reward he’d ever tasted. She drove him wild with passionate longing every second that he wasn’t there. He wanted this news story to work for her. He wanted her to succeed, and for her to look on him as one of the aids of her success.
He wanted her for life.
Now, alone and wrapped in white sheets that were both cool and comforting, Luke reached across to the bedside table, where he’d left his phone. It was late enough now to make the call that he’d been planning ever since he decided to make Shayla this offer. He had a surprise for her, and for the news story.
Smiling to himself, Luke dialed the number. He couldn’t wait to start.
Chapter Twenty
“You seem awfully chipper this morning,” commented Derek Green.
Shayla smiled; he had no idea.
She’d driven home, had another shower, and changed into her most professional, go-getter outfit. Then, after fussing over herself in the mirror for a few minutes, Shayla had straightened her spine and driven over to the station. There was a different receptionist there during the days. Shayla hadn’t seen her for so long that she’d forgotten her name. After spending her entire interaction with the receptionist trying to spy the older woman’s name tag, Shayla had been told that Mr. Green and Mr. Putnam would come fetch her soon.
Shayla was excited. She had a great story to pitch to them, and she knew they would love it. Whether the rest of the ten o’clock news team would be on board was another matter entirely, but for now all Shayla cared about was the fact that she was going to be vaulted straight to the top of her boss’ favor.
Putnam and Green stepped into the lobby to meet Shayla only a few moments later. She was glad that they hadn’t had busier mornings booked, since waiting in the lobby made her feel like a client. It wasn’t a feeling she adored. But what else could she do—go squat in her intern’s desk while she waited for them to come fetch her? There was likely another intern occupying it at the moment. If Putnam and Greene liked her pitch, would she get a new desk? Maybe an office all to her own? Or, at least, one that she could share with one of the daytime employees. Basically anything other than that cramped hovel in the corner of the newsroom.
That was when Green commented on Shayla’s enthusiastic appearance. And he was spot on.
“I have exciting news,” Shayla replied. “What’s not to be chipper about?”
Derek smiled at her and gestured for her to go through the doorway. “I’m sure you know the way to the conference room.”
It seemed to be the only room things actually got done in. Shayla led the way, noting how different the office area looked during the day. There were people in the offices, first of all. Second, it seemed less cramped for some reason, which was odd considering there were more people. It was bright, and she was surrounded by the chatter of people talking on the phones and to each other, and the ringing of phones all over the place.
Shayla had to suppress a scowl of jealousy. Things seemed much happier there during the daytime.
They entered the conference room and Shayla took a seat at the end of the table. Putnam and Green followed behind. Putnam closed the door after he came in, and then he and his companion sat down opposite each other and faced Shayla. They were an odd pair. Like twins, they seemed to do everything together. Unlike twins, they seemed like individuals who were worlds apart.
“So what’s this news,” prompted Derek.
Shayla sat up in her chair and plastered on a smile. “Do you remember Luke Cinder?”
“Not the goddamn kitten story again,” said Mr. Putnam with a frown. “I don’t want to hear any more about that.”
Shayla shook her head emphatically. “No! This isn’t about the kitten. This is about gang life in Templeton.”
The two men leaned closer in their chairs, which Shayla took as her cue to continue.
“He’s agreed to give us an exclusive peek into the day to day running of his club. We have unlimited access for a week.”
Putnam pursed his lips in thought. “What’s the catch? What does he want in return?”
Shayla shook her head. “Nothing. He’s just doing it as a favor.”
“Nothing comes for free,” agreed Derek.
Shayla felt heat rise up her face. How could she tell them that she’d already paid for Luke’s involvement? With her body, no less.
“Uh. Well, he and I have become friends. He thought it would be a good way to defuse a lot of the anxiety going on since the Holly Masterson overdose.”
Both men nodded thoughtfully. “They think she’s going to pull through, but there has certainly been a rise of tensions between the average Templetonian and the bikers,” said Green. “I think this is a great idea.”
“I’ll stamp it too,” said Putnam. “I’ll leave the production details up to your team.”
Her team? “Do you mean Amy?”
“And Anthony, of course.”
Shayla already felt irritated, and Putnam had only just said Anthony’s name. She hadn’t counted on him being involved in this story, but it made sense. She’d be damned before she felt excited about that particular piece though.
“Thank you for your time,” Shayla said. “I look forward to hearing your thoughts on the segments as they air.”
“And we look forward to seeing if this helps our numbers,” said Putnam with a smile. He rose and extended his hand to Shayla. She stood and took it, giving it a firm shake and then turning to Derek to do the same.
“I won’t let you down.”
She wasn’t sure why she snuck that particular nugget in there, but it felt right at the time. This was more about not letting herself down. If she screwed this up, who cared about the station’s numbers? This was her biggest career opportunity yet. That and that alone would drive her forward.
Shayla left the station feeling an airy sense of glee. She wanted to jump in the air at the prospect of finally heading in the direction she’d been trying to go for years, and getting to spend more time with Luke on the station’s dime. That was a win-win if she’d ever seen one.
Now all she had to do was explain the situation to Amy and Anthony and make sure they were on board too. She had a feeling that wouldn’t be as easy. Luckily she had a few hours to prepare her pitch, since neither of them would be at the station until later that day. Feeling pretty sleepy and definitely exhausted, Shayla drove home and crawled into her bed. The cool sheets wrapped around her almost as lovingly as Luke’s arms, and in only a few minutes she was out like a light.
***
“This is a horrible idea!” Anthony’s f
ace had taken on an expression of disgust, and his eyes shot right through Shayla. “You want us to romanticize gang violence? These guys are thugs.”
“Some of them are thugs,” Shayla conceded. “But Luke’s not one of them. Neither are any of his guys.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re sweet on him.”
Shayla looked over at Amy for support, who had been sitting at her end of the conference table looking pensive. It took everything in her not to reach down the table and smack Anthony upside the head for talking to her like that, but she knew she’d have to be diplomatic if she wanted to get him on her side. That meant not attacking him for every asshole thing he said.
Amy sat forward in her chair. “I think that if it’s what Mr. Putnam and Mr. Green want, there’s not much we can do about it.”
That was hardly the answer Shayla had been looking for.
“That being said,” Amy continued. “I also think that it’s a great idea, if played correctly. Anthony’s right that it could be taken as romanticizing gang violence, but we also have to remember that edgy content brings in viewers.”
There it was! Shayla breathed a sigh of relief. She thought that she would have to fight both of them tooth and nail. She vowed to give Any more of a break for her incompetence in the future. Maybe not all of it, but some of it.
Shayla turned a smug smile on Anthony. “You don’t have to be in it,” she said sweetly. “I can film the segments myself.”
He snorted. “As if. I’m not letting some Cinderella story intern scoop a story this big, no matter how dumb I think it is.”
What happened to all his talk yesterday about them having to work together? Anthony’s moods flip-flopped more than a strung out junkie.
“I think Shayla should do most of the segments through,” chimed in Amy. “She and that biker guy have such a natural chemistry, whereas he just seems to hate you.”
“He just hates me because I actually take a shower every once and awhile.”
Shayla held in a laugh, remembering the shower she and Luke had shared last night. The thought sent tingles to her core. She couldn’t wait to see him next.
“I’ll get a camera crew ready, and we’ll film the segments during the day. Can you start on this tomorrow, Shayla?”
Shayla nodded at Amy. “Absolutely.”
“You know that you’ll be working doubles because of this. We’ll still need you to do the news at night and present the segments.”
“I understand.”
“Good.” Amy rose from the table. “Now, I’ve got to go get some work done. Shayla, you should get to make up. You look a little red.”
Shayla turned even more red when she realized that her thoughts of Luke had manifested in a burnt complexion.
Anthony rolled his eyes and left the table too, but Shayla didn’t move right away. She pulled out her phone and called Luke.
“Hey there, wildcat.” She still wasn’t used to his gruff tone. It sent a flame of heat through her body.
“Hey Luke.” She didn’t have a fun nickname for him. Yet. Was that a thing she needed to do? “I talked to everyone at the station about your idea. They think it’s great, and they want to start shooting tomorrow.”
“That’s great news. I’ll make sure the shop is clean.”
“Shop?”
“My auto shop, little one. It’s the Trojan clubhouse.”
Shayla could have groaned at her idiocy. She knew absolutely nothing about Luke. How could she have been so blockheaded not to ask him anything about his life? She loved the small business owner angel she was going to be able to work in though.
“Right, of course.” Shayla paused, looking down at her hand on the table and gathering her courage. “I had a lot of fun last night.”
Luke’s baritone chuckle blasted through the phone. “I had fun too, little one. I can’t wait to have fun with you again sometime soon.”
“What about tonight? After I’m finished?”
Luke hesitated. “I can’t tonight, babe. I’ve got some club business to deal with.”
His tone was dark, and Shayla sensed that asking what business was entailed wouldn’t go well.
“Okay, that’s fine,” she mumbled. “Want to text me the address of your shop and I’ll let you know when me and the team will be over tomorrow?”
“Sure thing. Have a good broadcast.”
“Thanks. Have a good...club...thing…”
Luke laughed. “I’ll try.”
Shayla ended the call with a curious mix of dread and excitement in her stomach. She knew there was something going on in Luke’s world, but didn’t know what that entailed. She only hoped that he would confide in her soon.
On the plus side, she was excited to be at the helm of a story. She would be the one developing it and bringing it to life, and it would look great for her in the future if it went well. And, as an added bonus, following Luke around for a week would give her a sense of who he really was underneath all that sexual prowess.
She just hoped she liked what she found.
Chapter Twenty One
Luke hung up the phone and turned back to Sparky and Rose. Whatever comfort Sparky had provided the teen had given her enough strength to go back and stay with her parents again, but she still spent most of her time at Sparky’s place. Now it was for a different reason.
She was scared.
The guy who’d sold her friend the drugs had tracked Rose down and threatened her after seeing the piece on the news that blamed bikers for her friend’s overdose. But goddamn if she wasn't a feisty one. She was scared, yes, but she refused to let anyone bully her. Which was why she had put herself under Trojan protection and said she’d help them in any way she could.
Sparky had a laptop resting on his knees, and was going through photos of Reapers MC members. Rose hadn’t remembered for certain what the guy had looked like before, but now that the idiot had come after her in broad daylight she had a much better idea.
Luke never got tired of dumbass crooks. They made life so much easier for him.
Rose was looking a lot better than the last time Luke had seen her. She wasn’t sobbing, which was part of it. She also just seemed more determined and less vulnerable. With a backbone like hers, maybe Luke would have to reserve a jacket for her when she turned twenty-one.
“That’s him!” she shouted suddenly. “I can’t believe it! There’s his little ratty face!”
Luke jumped up and sat down on the couch next to them. They were looking at the Facebook of Brad Kingsley, one of the Reapers’ lower level members, if Luke remembered correctly.
Luke scowled as he saw that Chester Smith was in the photo also, with his arm clamped around Brad’s shoulders. Herman’s third and youngest son, Chester still seemed to cause the most trouble. And despite his other siblings’ vendetta against Luke, Chester knew better than to get within ten feet of the Trojans leader. The Brad kid was a pretty good looking guy, so Luke could see why Rose’s friend had been lured under his spell.
“Well now we have a name. Brad.” Sparky put his hand on the lid and began to close it.
“No!” Rose flipped it back up. “Not the pasty little one. The burly guy he’s with.” She pointed and tapped on Chester’s face.
Luke’s blood boiled. “Are you sure?”
She turned to Luke and nodded, conviction in her eyes. “I would bet my life on it.”
Luke rose up from the couch, his fists balled at his side. “I can’t believe it!” he stormed. “What kind of shit is going on in that club if they’ve got Herman’s goddamn son running petty drug transactions and pushing bad pills onto teenageers?”
Rose, to her benefit, did not cower back. Neither did Sparky, but he’d seen Luke’s rage plenty of times before.
“Who’s Herman?” Rose asked.
Luke leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, trying to calm down. “He’s the leader of the Reapers.” He opened his lids and gazed at her, but she seemed unmoved. Serious ball
s.
“That’s good though, isn’t it?” Rose asked brightly. When both men looked at her questioningly, she continued. “If he’s high up in the gang they have even more reason not to want him exposed.”
Luke gave the girl a sardonic smile. “I wish I could still see everything with the same sunny disposition.” He walked over and sat back on the couch, leaning into the cushions. “We have no proof. It’s your word against his, and frankly his dad will do anything he can to keep Chester out of prison.” He sighed. “It looks like he’s easier to bring down, but in practice it’ll be a lot harder. I can’t even go kick the living shit out of the maggot.”