Long Ride: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Black Sparks MC) (Whiskey Bad Boys Book 1)

by Kathryn Thomas

  Until he was interrupted by a banging on the shed door. Nick’s eyes snapped open, and he withdrew from her suddenly, like a startled animal, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d been about to do.

  “Nick?” A voice called. “Stone, you in there? “

  “Shit,” they both said simultaneously.

  Liana’s hand darted back, and Nick dropped his head, his hair falling in eyes, trying to rapidly collect himself, body and mind, through will alone. Liana frantically fumbled for her clothes, heart speeding up for an entirely different reason, the adrenaline overcrowding her brain. She couldn’t even see straight; the entire shed was a blur as she fumbled with the sleeves of her top, trying to figure out how she had ever gotten it on to begin with. Rapidly, she scanned the shed for an escape route.

  “Why did it have to be him?” Nick gasped. He turned to her, instantly noticing the deer-like terror in her eyes. He reached out for her, but she shrank away, unable to believe what was going on here. “It’s one of our guys.” Nick was still breathing hard as he turned his head toward the door, his chest heaving. She could see his mind turning over.

  “What do we do?”

  Nick’s eyes had changed, and Liana was suddenly afraid that this sudden interruption had changed his mind altogether – that there would never be another opportunity, that he’d recognized the price he might have to pay, and decided it was too high. “Put this on,” he said, tossing her the top she had shed mere moments before. She had just enough time to grab it and throw it on before the door was kicked open triumphantly by whoever was on the other side.

  Martin Malone hooked his tattooed fingers into the belt loops of his jeans, a shit-eating grin on his face. Rather than surprised to see them in such a flustered and red-faced state, he looked satisfied, and the glint in his eyes made Liana’s stomach flip. “I knew it was a good idea to ride ahead.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  When they finally made it into the living room at Helena’s, Tryg and Tomahawk were standing in the middle, a line of dirt from their boots onto Helena’s pristine carpet, looking grave and totally out of place. Tomahawk kept stealing glances at Nick, but Liana’s uncle’s dark, intense eyes narrowed when he saw her, and she shrank back, as if he were looking right through her—through them. She wasn’t sure whether he was onto Liana’s relationship with Jack or, even worse, knew what she and Nick had been up to in the woodshed, but he kept his hand on the pocket of his jacket, where she knew he kept his gun.

  Meanwhile, Liana looked up to Nick, whose eyes, as he stood beside her resolutely, his shoulders defiant, were narrowed cautiously, like a hunter whose mind was still in the woods. He sensed something amiss, she knew. Although he walked close to her, it was almost as if he’d forgotten she was even there. Liana couldn’t help but wonder whether there was something else he was worried about, something he hadn’t mentioned when he’d suddenly appeared beside her in the woods. For the first time, she wondered how he had found her so quickly. Nick seemed to sense, suddenly, that she was looking up at him, waiting for reassurance. The corner of his mouth turned up in the tiniest of smiles, as if by reassuring her, he could reassure himself. He reached down and twined his fingers through hers and, just for a second, she melted, even though he dropped them a second later. It was going to be okay. It signaled to her that nothing could be wrong, not for the moment. It wouldn’t last forever; it would only last seconds. But it was enough.

  Liana saw Helena’s eyes widen when she caught sight of Liana, and she immediately brushed off her hair, where she was certain sawdust was still clinging. There was nothing she could do about the dirt on her expensive borrowed top, though. She was an idiot to have even borrowed it in the first place; she should have stuck with her old clothes. Helena flew to Liana and looked her critically. “Where is Jack? He didn’t touch you, did he? God, I never should have let you go out there alone.”

  “It’s okay, Helena,” said Liana robotically, not entirely sure it wasn’t all an act. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Anyway, he’s gone,” Tryg said flatly, interrupting her. “We combed the perimeter. There’s no trace of him or his car.” He was looking at Nick now, but he didn’t look pleased.

  “Sure, for now,” Liana said. “But he knows where I am.”

  “Looks like it,” piped up Tomahawk.

  Nick turned to Liana and spoke in a reassuring voice. “You’re going to have stay in the house from now on – until we can make sure he’s longer a threat.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” said Tryg. “You stay in the house where we can keep an eye on you.”

  Liana couldn’t help but notice how he spoke in plural. It was clear that if it had been Nick who was driving this operation to begin with, it was no longer. Tryg had decided to step in. And that mean she’d be under the kind of scrutiny she wasn’t sure she could handle.

  “I know about Jack – about how he went undercover with the Vipers,” Tryg said.

  “What do you mean?” she demanded. “That’s over.”

  “I told him, Nick,” Helena spoke up in a small voice, looking chagrined. “I was worried about Liana, and I had to tell him what I knew.”

  “Yeah, well you could have checked me with me first,” said Nick, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “I should have been more clear with you the night before, when you were floating all those theories about Liana and the Vipers.”

  “Clear about what?” Helena asked.

  “That you’re wrong.”

  Meanwhile, Liana was hoping a trapdoor would open and swallow her up. The way the men in the room were leering at her, as if she were some kind of poison pill, made her sick. They reminded her of how Noel used to look at her, as if she were some jewel, some treasure, some object without a mind of its own, one so powerful it had to be locked in a vault behind bulletproof glass, lest it be stolen and wreak havoc on the world.

  “Yeah, you took care of everything,” said Tryg. “Except you neglected to mention how you found out my niece’s ex-boy toy is the kingpin of the biggest M.C. on the Eastern seaboard.”

  “So what if he’s with the Vipers?” demanded Nick. “We already knew he was dangerous. He’s threatened Liana. She’s terrified, Tryg. And she didn’t know anything about his involvement with the Vipers. All she knew was that he was a crooked cop and we, of all people, should know those are a dime a dozen.”

  “Nick, did you leave your common sense in the woods out there, too? You can’t possibly believe he drove all the way out here just to chase after his girlfriend. Not a man like that. There’s something going on here, and it’s up to us to get to the bottom of it. Now, you’re going to tell me the truth once and for all, Liana,” her uncle’s voice rumbled, and she felt herself shrink back, clawing for the wall behind her. “Now. Or I will find out some other way. And you probably won’t like it.”

  “Hey, lay off her,” said Nick, stepping between them immediately. “I told her you were here to help, but you’re sure not acting like it.”

  “I’ve got to know the truth,” said Tryg. “And right now, I’m having a hard time telling exactly whose side you’re on here.”

  “What?” sputtered Nick. “I can’t believe you would even ask that of me. I’m the one who showed up to protect her. God only knows what would have happened if I hadn’t been here.”

  Helena stepped forward, setting the glass she’d been holding down on the drinks cart. She went and put her arm around Liana, “Nobody’s blaming you, Liana,” said Helena, stealing a glance at Tryg, who crossed his arms, as if he realized he was over the line.

  “This is your family. Family tell the truth.”

  “Family also protect each other,” said Liana softly. “Or they should.”

  “You want to know what I think?” Martin cut in.

  “No,” snapped Nick, but Martin continued as if he hadn’t heard.

  “I think Stone’s the one who hasn’t been honest with us this whole time. Think about it,
Tryg,” he said, sauntering forward, gesturing toward the younger man. “He cost us that shipment, and now he’s going behind your back. How do we know it wasn’t a setup from the get go? He’s planning on pretending to sell it back to us and pocketing the profits himself.”

  Nick was fuming. “Setup? I got shot!” he countered. “You, yourself, saw me lying there bleeding on the pavement. Did that look like a fucking setup to you? Tryg, he’s insane. And what do you mean, going behind your backs? I haven’t done anything about that shipment I haven’t told Tryg about it.”

  “Malone, stay out of this,” barked Tryg, barely giving the wiry man a second glance. He rubbed his temples. “Fine, Liana, if you won’t tell me the truth, then I’ll get if from Stone. Sit down,” he said to Nick, pointing to the leather armchair across from his.

  Nick did, feeling like he was in school again, half of which he’d seemed to spend sitting sullenly across the desks from irate teachers and principals.

  “There’s one thing I know for a fact you haven’t been honest about.” Martin piped up again, despite having been dismissed by Tryg. “You may play the part of this chick’s protector, but it’s all an act, isn’t it? To get in good with the Vipers? To undercut us so you can make the big score and run?”

  “Malone, can it or get the hell out,” barked Tryg. “This doesn’t concern you. Nick, it’s time to come clean. I know you weren’t happy when I told you Martin was taking over the Chillicothe job.”

  “No shit I wasn’t happy. That was my deal. You promised me I could take the lead on it.”

  “So you struck a deal with Jack Camus to help you get that shipment back.”

  Liana ground her teeth together, her legs suddenly feeling like noodles underneath the weight of her body. Helena drew an arm around her shoulder and led her toward the stairs, and Liana let herself be led. She didn’t have the strength to fight.

  “Who the hell told you about that?” Liana felt her heart stop. She watched Nick’s face, looking as stricken as hers. She didn’t even have to ask whether what Tryg was accusing him of was true. It was written all over his face; the face of a man who had been caught in the last place he wanted anybody to know he’d been.

  “Malone did, this afternoon. Right after he saw you sitting in his car.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Nick hadn’t left the house that morning expecting to meet Jack Camus. He really hadn’t. He’d gone to the bar for a meeting with the Black Sparks, to talk about the progress Tryg had made with the Russians. Needless to say, that news hadn’t been encouraging, and only served to underscore the fact that the Vipers were circling them like piranhas on a cow leg. He had not liked the idea of leaving Liana alone, despite the fact that Helena had taken him on a tour of the house and grounds, pointing out all the relevant safety features, including the safe room, where she’d barricaded them both inside “to demonstrate,” then happened to bump her thigh against his as she reached down to show him the button to turn on the surveillance camera. He didn’t know what Helena’s long game was; chances were she was just a lonely woman whose husband had betrayed her too may times. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t be dangerous, that she couldn’t have an agenda.

  Not to mention, what Helena had said that night was still haunting him, not so much her words, but the idea that there was a part of Nick that wanted to believe that Liana wasn’t on the up and up. Would it be easier for him if he could convince himself she was a liar and an opportunist who would sell herself to Jack, as she’d once sold herself to Noel, so long as she could hold that silver spoon between her teeth? That she was really back in Prudence not because she was frightened, but for her own gain? After all, if she had really been as desperate and hard-up for cash in New York as she’d claimed to be, riding with a crooked cop with connections to a far-reaching criminal gang would certainly be a prime way to move up in the world. And Liana, with her M.C. roots, would know better than your average starving actress how to exploit them.

  After the meeting, he’d been on his bike, taking the curves of the winding roads near Helena’s, these thoughts clouding his head, when he’d noticed the car, perked half in the ditch on the side of a lonely dirt road on the north side of Helena’s property. He’d recognized it immediately, stopping on the shoulder to decide his next move, dragging his bike into the ditch to disguise its presence as much as he could. He knew exactly what he’d like to do to Jack Camus if he saw him face to face and in a different world, one where outlaws could do whatever they wanted to cops and expect not to spend the rest of their lives in a cell, he’d probably rip him limb from limb and leave him bleeding out all over the customized napped leather seats of his Mercury. He could call for his fellow Sparks to back him up, but by the time they arrived Camus might be gone. No. There was only one option, he decided, just as the man himself appeared as if on cue.

  Jack Camus was about thirty-five; already a sergeant for five years, and it showed in his bearing. Tall, his close-cropped hair, so blond it was almost white, framed his youthful, high-cheekboned face, his features blade-sharp. He took off his wraparound sunglasses and Nick could see his ice-blue eyes. He hated to think of Liana being attracted to this guy, though it was abundantly obvious to see why she would have been. His exit from the car was all so perfectly timed that Nick expected to see a Hollywood grip crew behind him. Completing the Hollywood effect, he was dressed in head to toe black, True Religion designer jeans topped by a black V-neck t-shirt and an expensive black leather bomber jacket. The only thing that would make it more perfect is if Nick had been dressed in head to toe white, taking the role of Liana’s protector, her knight, her avenging angel. What a joke, he’d thought, chasing away the thought. That wasn’t a role anybody would ever cast Nicholas Stone in.

  Jack’s lips parted. “Looking for a badge?” he paused, but Nick said nothing, trying to stare him down. “Gun? Cuffs? In the trunk. I’m not trying to drop a sting on you, Nick. This is unofficial business.”

  It didn’t surprise him for a second that Jack recognized him. This was his business; this was why he always won. He knew things about people.

  He grabbed for the gun in his waistband, the one Tryg had given him, grateful now that Tryg hadn’t had a chance yet to ask for it back. He brandished it at Jack, the slick metal under his hand giving away his anxiety.

  Jack waved it off. “I put my gun away. I think it’s only fair to ask the same courtesy from you.”

  Nick nodded, tightened his grip, and replaced it behind his back, every movement cautious and deliberate. He couldn’t afford to look like he didn’t know what he was doing.

  “I want to thank you for taking care of Liana,” Jack said, his artificially whitened teeth parting in a grim smile. “I was surprised enough to find that my girlfriend was practically the heiress to the M.C. I’ve only heard about in storybooks. And now I’m lucky enough to meet one of her retinue, a genuine Black Spark in the flesh.”

  “The only way to take care of her is to keep her away from you,” said Nick, hoping it wasn’t obvious how he’d cringed to hear Jack refer to her as his girlfriend. The idea of Liana being anybody’s girlfriend, let alone Jack’s, disgusted him. He was afraid of what that meant. “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not here because I like you. If I had my way, you’d be bleeding out your aorta right now.”

  “Typical Middle American, always resorting to violence first thing. Out east, we’ve evolved.”

  “Evolved?”

  “Yeah, it’s a word that means to grow, to change—”

  “I know what the fuck it means, Camus. Get to the point.”

  “You know the point. You have something that belongs to me, and I want it back.” His tone was measured, calm. There was no doubt in this man’s mind that Liana was his as much as if she’d been tattooed with his name.

  “She doesn’t belong to you. She never did.”

  A cool gleam of humor sparkled in Jack’s eyes. “And they tell me I’m possessive.”

  Nick
took a step back, his face reddening, ashamed of how he sounded. He knew how sensitive Liana was to being treated like a pawn. As a teen, he’d seen the pain it had brought her firsthand. If there was one thing he could do for her, if nothing else, it was to ensure he never treated her that way himself. “She’s a person, Camus. Not some car accessory you can hang in the windshield of your cruiser.”

  “No cruiser,” he said, patting the Mercury. “Only her.” Jack stepped forward, the shadows of the willow dancing across his face, making it look half-purposeful. Nick gave no ground. “You won’t get her, Nick, you know,” he said. “She’s my destiny. And I’m hers.”

  “Destiny?”

  “You know, kismet. Fate. Written in the stars,” he made a contemptuous little motion with his hand.

  Nick got the idea he was treating him like an ignorant child, but he didn’t know how to register his disgust without sounding like even more immature.

  “You’re insane.”

  Jack just nodded. Nothing seemed to ruffle this guy. “She told me what happened between you two, you know.”

  “How much?” Nick asked, swallowing.

  “Everything.” Jack flashed his white, jackal-like smile. “Nothing’s changed. You’re still not worth the ground she walks on, and she knows it. She needs more. She deserves more.” Nick wouldn’t have minded this so much if deep down, he hadn’t feared it was true. “And I’m the only man who can give it to her. Of course,” he went on, “I can give you what you want, too. I wouldn’t want you to think I’m only in this for myself. It’s win-win.”

  “And just what do you think that is?” he challenged, fighting his urge to scream at him.

  “I can get rid of that meth-head tweaker Malone, for one.”

  “How?”

  “I know why he got kicked out of the Cleveland charter and I can make sure Tryg does, too. Anyway, Tryg’s not going to be around forever. In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re in a rather dangerous business. He’s got a kid to take care of and he’s going to want to pass off the responsibility to someone younger. He’s going to have to name somebody president before he makes his exit. How do you think it’s going to look if you can’t get that shipment back?”