I nodded. “Uh huh.”
“So, do you remember shooting him now?”
I didn’t remember shooting him, I only remembered the boom and the blinding flash of light.
I looked at him. My eyes felt itchy. “I uhhm.”
The door opened, and Jacky walked in. After sitting down across from me, she poured some soda in a cup and slid it across the table. “Have a drink, it’ll make you feel better.”
Jones tossed a yellow notepad and a pen beside me. “While you’re sipping that soda, why don’t you write down what happened? Every detail. How you told him to stop, and then how you shot him. I’d get him to write it down, but he’s in the morgue. His family’s going to be planning his funeral, Miss. West. You telling the truth will help them put this to rest. That makes sense, doesn’t it?”
It didn’t.
The guy was a piece of shit. I did the world – and his family – a favor. It may sound harsh, but it was the truth.
I took a sip of soda, and glanced at the notepad. After another drink, I reached for the pen. I closed my eyes and tried to recall exactly what happened. The sound of the door unlocking caused me to look up.
A handsome man who was wearing slacks and a dress blazer walked in.
Jacky stood and gave a sharp nod toward the man. “Detective Watson.”
Jones looked nervous. He extended his hand. “Watson.”
Watson looked at Jones, didn’t shake his hand, and then shot a quick glance at me. He nodded his head once as if affirming my presence and then turned toward the two outwardly nervous detectives.
He cleared his throat. “Jones. Trovetti. I’ll be taking this investigation over.”
“Hold up,” Jones said. “This is our murder collar. You’re not going to--”
“Yes, I am.” Watson reached for the chair Jacky had been sitting in, and then paused. “If you’ve got a problem with it, talk to the commissioner.”
Jones’ eyes widened. “The commissioner?”
Watson motioned toward the door. “Close that on your way out, would you?”
Jones pressed his hands against his hips and blinked a few times. “The commissioner?”
Watson nodded. “Yeah, the commissioner. Remember him? He’s a tall fucker with thick curly hair and an addiction to sunflower seeds. His office is at the end of the hallway on the seventh floor. He’s got a plaque on the door in case you get confused on which office is his.” He tilted his head toward the door. “Go ask him, but don’t forget to get the door on the way out.”
Jacky and Jones exchanged an awkward glance, and then left the room.
Watson sat across from me, leaned forward, and looked me in the eyes. He didn’t smell like stale cigarettes or resemble the walking dead. The air around him smelled like expensive cologne, and he looked like an athlete.
He held my gaze, cupped his hands around his mouth, and then looked down at the table. I wondered if he was mad, or if he was thinking or praying. Then, he spoke.
Well, kind of.
“Say I want an attorney present, and say it loudly,” he whispered.
What he said was almost inaudible, but I understood him.
I blinked my eyes in disbelief.
“Say it,” he whispered.
I wondered why he was helping me, but didn’t dare ask. I looked at the camera, cleared my throat, and made the declaration.
“I want an attorney present.”
He looked up. His eyebrow arched. “Excuse me?”
“I want an…I want to have an attorney present.”
“If that’s how you want to play this.” He pushed himself away from the table and stood. “Fine. I’ll take you to the phone.”
He uncuffed me and motioned toward the door. “Second door on your right. I’ll follow you, it’s procedure.”
I walked down the hall, and into a much larger room than the one I had been in. A wooden table surrounded by chairs was in the center of the room, and at the edge of the table, a phone sat.
Watson pulled the door closed behind him. “This is a private room. What you say here isn’t recorded. You’re not going to call an attorney.”
Even more confused than I was before, I stared back at him, blankly.
He met my muddled gaze. “You’re going to call Alexandra.”
“Lex?”
He nodded. “Tell her you’ve been arrested for murder, and that you need Jay Parsons.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. He just as well had spoke to me in Italian. It would have made an equal amount of sense. My wide-eyed stare must have prompted him to explain further, because that’s what he did.
“Lex, I’ve been arrested on a murder charge, and I need you to call Jay Parsons. They want to interrogate me, and I need an attorney. That’s what you’ll say,” he said. “No more, no less. Understand?”
“Okay.”
The look on his face changed to concern. “Are you alright?”
“I’ll be…yeah. I’m uhhm. I’m fine.” I nodded, more to convince myself than to reassure him. “Is she uhhm…”
A flash of memory came to mind, and it wasn’t something I ever wanted to see again. Panic shot up my throat, choking me from continuing. I fought against it, wiped my tears, and looked up. I needed to know. “She didn’t uhhm. Is she alive?”
He reached for my shoulder and gave a nod of reassurance. “I just left the hospital. She’s alive, yes.”
“She’s not going to die?”
“She’ll recover fully. That’s what the doctor said, I can promise you that.”
Emotion washed over me, and I blubbered for an instant. After regaining what little composure I could, I wiped my eyes with the heels of my palms. “Thank you.”
He released my shoulder. “I’m going to leave the room, and as soon as I do, you need to make that call.”
“But, she’s okay? Right?”
“She looks like hell, but I promise you, she’ll be okay.”
“Why. Why uhhm. Why are you helping me?”
“Because you’ve got something I need,” he said.
Then, he turned around and left the room.
Chapter One
Sandy
Lex and I were best friends and co-workers. Her boyfriend, Cholo, was a fully patched member of a local Motorcycle Club, the Filthy Fuckers. Contrary to popular opinions about bikers, he was kind, sweet, protective, and loyal. Considering her success with him – and my lack of success with men in general – I decided to meet a friend of his, another patched member of the club.
With a bucket of iced Budweiser at my side and my chair pointed toward the front door, I eagerly waited for them to show up. When they finally walked in, I stared in disbelief.
Hell, anyone would have.
My potential date was handsome, outwardly cocky, and had the muscular structure of a running back. Short of the kutte he wore, he looked like he could be a tattooed model for a clothing company.
“Oh. My. God.” I picked my jaw up from my lap and rapped my knuckles against the table. “Is that him?”
Lex glanced over her shoulder and then looked at me. “Yep.”
Cholo nudged his buddy and motioned toward where we were sitting. As they walked in our direction, I couldn’t help but notice my date’s undeniable swagger. Confidence radiated from him, and he didn’t have to speak for me to realize it.
He wore it like a crown.
I pried my eyes from his handsome face and gave Lex a quick look. “Is he an asshole?”
“No. He’s just. I don’t know.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Intense.”
“Intense?” My eyes darted back and forth between him and her. “Like, in a good way?”
Her mouth twisted to the side. “Uhhm…”
It didn’t matter. I’d already made up my mind. With looks like that, he could be a little bit of an asshole, and I’d somehow find a way to accept it.
He stopped at the edge of the table and looked me up and down. He raked his fingers th
rough his closely cropped hair, and then hooked his thumbs on the edges of his front pockets.
His blue eyes met mine. “You Sandy?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat had gone tight, leaving me no alternative but to nod.
After taking another quick look at me, he took a step back. He tilted his head toward the door. “C’mon.”
I shot him a deer in the headlights look. Somehow, I managed to speak. Kind of. “Huh?”
He did the head toward the door thing again. “C’mon, we’re leaving.”
“We’re uhhm...” I stammered.
He hadn’t even introduced himself. I looked at Lex. She shrugged. I looked up and blinked a few times. “Leaving?”
His eyes fell to my boobs. He grinned and coughed his response. “Yeah.”
I had just finished my period, and I was horny as hell, but I wasn’t an easy lay. I was pretty sure I’d let him fuck me at some point, but it wasn’t going to happen until I wanted it to. Hot biker or not, he was going to have to wait until I was ready.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said adamantly. “Not yet, anyway. You haven’t even introduced yourself. Sit down.”
He pursed his lips, looked me over, and then grabbed the seat beside me. After turning it around backward, he sat and draped his arms over the chair’s back. I glanced at his full sleeve of tattoos, but made it a point not to stare.
A colorful array of dragons, flowers, and skulls covered his right arm all the way down to his hand.
Interesting.
He cleared his throat. “Name’s Smoke.”
“Smoke?” I chuckled. “That’s your name?”
He nodded. “Yep.”
“Mine’s Fire,” I said with a laugh.
He didn’t seem amused. I wrestled the smile from my face and changed my tone to serious. “Seriously, what’s your name?”
“Smoke,” he said flatly.
“Okay.” I nodded and extended my hand. “I’m Sandy. Nice to meet you, Smoke.”
He shook my hand and gave a slight grin. “Ditto.”
His sexy appearance and handsome looks had my interest. The jury, however, was still out on him. As I stared back at him and tried to decide what to talk about, I wondered just where he thought we were going to go had I chosen to get up and leave when he asked me.
He tilted his head toward the bucket of beers. “You mind?”
“No, we ordered them for you guys.”
“Appreciate ya.” He pulled a bottle from the bucket, handed it to Cholo, and then grabbed another. After opening it, he drank half the bottle in one gulp.
“So, what do you two want to do?” Lex asked.
I shifted my eyes from him to her and shrugged. “I don’t care.”
I really didn’t. The excitement of meeting someone new had taken over, and whatever we chose to do would satisfy me.
“We could go for a ride,” Cholo said.
“We’re headed out in a minute,” Smoke said.
I looked at him. He was leaning over the back of the chair with the bottle of beer, which was now empty, dangling loosely from his fingertips.
Oh really?
“Relax,” I said. “Have another beer.”
He set the bottle aside and shook his head. “I don’t ride drunk. One’s my limit.”
I looked at Cholo, expecting him to laugh or say something contradictory. He grinned and nodded. “He never drinks more than one.”
I shifted my eyes to Smoke. He shrugged and then stood. “You about ready?”
The thought of leaving with him excited me, but I wanted to act indifferent. “Where are we going to go?”
“We’ll head to Belmont Park, get some ice cream, and then maybe take a walk along Mission Beach. Toes in the sand sound good?”
Holy crap.
A handsome biker who had so much confidence it oozed from his pores, and he was romantic.
Who was I to argue?
I grabbed my purse, stood, and then met his gaze. “Really?”
He leaned toward me, brushed my hair to the side, and then pressed his mouth to my ear. “No,” he whispered, forcing his warm breath into my ear. “We’re going to your place, get to know each other a little, and see what happens. Now, turn around, wave at your friends, and smile.”
Goosebumps raised along the biceps of both my arms. The thought of having sex with him was exciting, but I wasn’t a whore, and I didn’t want him to expect that sex was a sure thing.
“I’m not a whore,” I whispered.
“Didn’t say you were. We’re both adults, though. And, I think you’re hot as fuck.” His hand slid along my side and stopped at the small of my back. “You gonna wave at ‘em, or not?”
I turned around, swallowed hard, and forced a grin. “We’re uhhm. We’re going to go ahead and go.”
Lex’s eyes slowly widened. Her smirk returned. She must have known. Cholo pinched the bill of his cap in a biker ‘goodbye’ wave.
I shot him a nervous smile and turned around.
Now facing the door with my blind date at my side, I was anxious and excited at the same time.
“Uhhm. Tell me a little about yourself,” I said, hoping to rid myself of the apprehension that filled me.
“I’ll tell you everything about me.” He chuckled and then began walking toward the door. “I like riding, eating at shitty diners, drinking coffee, and fucking.”
At least he was honest.
He pushed the front door open, mean-mugged a man as he walked past us, and then motioned for me to walk though. I stepped onto the sidewalk, and turned to face him. I wanted to act like he hadn’t shocked me, even though he had.
“Your list. Are they in order?” I asked. “From favorite to least favorite?”
He reached for the back of my neck, gripped it lightly in his hand, and pulled me close to his chest. His eyes met mine, and he held my gaze for an instant. I struggled to swallow as he leaned forward, brushing his cheek against mine as he did so.
“That depends on how good you are at fucking,” he breathed into my ear.
Dear fucking God.
It was too much.
My eyes fell closed and my legs went weak.
He lowered his hand, leaned away, and gave me a look.
I don’t know if he was trying to drive me insane or not, but he was doing a good job of it. I stood in place, incapable of doing much else. With a wet pussy and a wandering mind, I tried to come up with one good reason not to fuck him.
I produced nothing, good or bad. Convinced that was the direction the night was going to go, my curious side presented itself.
“Why are we going to my house?” I asked.
“My daughter is at my place, and I don’t make it a point of bringing women around her. In fact, I’ve got a rigid policy against it.”
His response wasn’t at all what I was expecting. My mind instantly went to thoughts of him being married, and that he was a typical cheating douche.
“Are you married?”
He shot me a look. “If I was, I wouldn’t be here, would I?”
I felt like somewhat of a fool for asking, but not a complete fool. Men cheated, it was a fact of life. I’d been the recipient of some of it in the past, and I wasn’t interested in having it happen again.
“Guys cheat,” I said with a shrug. “I just thought--”
“Well, I don’t. Never have, never will.”
Hearing it was reassuring, but I couldn’t help but wonder about him being single, and about the child.
“So, you’re single?”
He motioned toward his Harley. “What did I just say?”
He took a few steps, and then paused when I didn’t immediately follow him. As he glanced over his shoulder, my curious side reared its ugly head again.
“Who’s watching your daughter?”
“Jesus with the questions,” he said with a laugh. “She watches herself.”
“What?” I snapped. “You can’t leave a child at home al
one--”
He arched an eyebrow. “Listen, Sandy. I’ve been a single father from the day after she was born until now, and she’s seventeen fucking years old. I’d really appreciate it if you don’t tell me what I can and can’t do with her, because considering all things, I’ve done a good God damned job of bringing her up. I’m pretty fucking proud of her, and of the job I’ve done.”
I swallowed hard. “Seventeen? You don’t look like you’re old enough to--”
“She’s sixteen. She’ll be seventeen here real quick. And, I’m thirty-four. I started young.” He reached for the helmet that dangled from his handlebars. “We doing this deal, or not?”
What little reservation I had about taking him home vanished after his speech about his daughter. I was right back where I’d started, only now I saw him as a handsome biker and a hot single dad.
“You got another helmet?”
“You ask a lot of fucking questions.”
I shrugged. “I’m a girl.”
He opened the compartment on the back of his motorcycle, pulled out a helmet, and handed it to me. “Yeah, every time you open your mouth, you remind me of that.”
“I’ll try and keep my mouth shut, then,” I said, my voice thick with sarcasm.
“That’s fine with me,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll let you know when it’s time for you to open it.”
I raised my index finger. “Oh, one last thing.”
He widened his eyes and cocked his head to the side.
“Can we stop at CVS?”
His brow wrinkled. “What?”
“I need to get protection,” I whispered. “In case we uhhm--”
“I’ve been clipped,” he said.
“Huh?”
He pointed at his crotch and then made the scissor finger gesture. “Vasectomy. I’ve had a vasectomy.”
I stole a quick look at him while he flipped switches and made adjustments. He was as handsome of a man as I had ever seen, and his confidence made him seem even more so. Feeling compelled to make my point, I pried my eyes away from his cute butt and cleared my throat.
“I’m on the pill, but that doesn’t mean we do it without protection. If we do it. I’m not saying we will, because we probably won’t. Not tonight. But, if it ends up that we do, I just think--”
F*CKERS (Biker MC Romance Book 7) Page 58