Copper (Blackwings MC - Devils Springs Book 1)

by Teagan Brooks

  She pulled away from me with a look of horror on her face. “Your friend keeps women in that bunker?” she screeched.

  “No! That’s not what I meant. The bunker is more of...a safe house, you could say; a place for someone to stay until it’s safe for them to return to their normal life.”

  She eyed me warily.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. “I’m not explaining this well. Almost two years ago, a woman, my cousin, had a bad man after her. She came up here to hide out until the bad guy was caught. While she was here, she did have to take cover in the bunker. To my knowledge, that’s the only time it’s actually been used.”

  “Is your cousin safe now?” she asked.

  “Yes, she is. She’s happily married and expecting her first child,” I said, smiling at the thought of Ember. She was beautiful inside and out.

  “What happened to the bad guy?” she asked.

  “He was caught and detained. He died not that long ago,” I said, not lying, but not in any way telling her the truth. She didn’t need to know the whole story when she was only looking for reassurance.

  I gave her a moment to process what I said before gently asking, “Will you tell me how you ended up in the bunker?”

  Chapter Six

  Layla

  “Will you tell me how you ended up in the bunker?” he asked softly.

  I couldn’t tell him the truth, not all of it anyway. I could give him partial truths and hope it would suffice. I felt like I had a better chance of my plan working if I let him ask the questions instead of volunteering the information. I wasn’t a great liar to begin with, and I needed all the help I could get.

  “I don’t even know where to begin. It’s a long story, and one I’m not fond of telling…” I trailed off, hoping he would take that as his cue to lead the conversation.

  He rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger before nodding. “Okay, let’s start with you answering some of my questions.”

  I sighed with relief and nodded.

  “How long have you been staying in the bunker?”

  Of course, he would start off with a question I couldn’t easily answer. “Um, what’s today’s date?”

  He gave me an incredulous look before glancing at his phone. “It’s February 17th.”

  “Oh, well, I guess I’ve been staying in the bunker for four weeks...maybe four and a half,” I said distractedly. I was a little taken aback by the date. I knew a good bit of time had passed since the beginning of my nightmare, but I didn’t think it had been four weeks.

  His mouth opened like he was going to speak, and then he quickly closed it. He did that once more before finally uttering, “Four and a half weeks?”

  I felt my cheeks heat in embarrassment. “I didn’t realize it had been that long,” I hedged.

  “Okay, okay, we’ll come back to that. How did you find the bunker?”

  “Honestly, I stumbled upon it. I wasn’t watching the ground, and I literally tripped on the hatch.”

  “You were out for a stroll in a mountain forest and just happened to trip over an underground bunker?” he asked, clearly not believing me.

  I sighed, “I was running and not watching where I was going. I thought something was chasing me.”

  “Seems like things are frequently chasing you,” he muttered.

  “Tell me about it,” I mumbled. “I swear, I was only trying to get away from whatever was chasing me. When I tripped, I fell onto my hands and knees. That’s when I noticed the door. The only thing on my mind was getting away, so I yanked the door open and climbed inside. I had no idea what was down there.”

  “Once whatever was chasing you was gone, why didn’t you leave?” he asked. A valid question. One I couldn’t, or wouldn’t, answer.

  I twisted my hands in my lap while my mind raced to come up with a sufficient answer. “When I found the bunker, it was getting dark, so that’s why I initially stayed. The next day, I was scared to leave. When I finally got the courage to come out, the ground was covered in at least a foot of snow. At that point, I had to stay.” I paused for a few beats to gather my thoughts. “I was trying to get to the bottom of the mountain when the boars chased me. I don’t know what I’ve done to piss off the universe, but the past year of my life has been a series of devastating events, each one more damning than the last.”

  “I see,” he said, I think more to himself than to me. “Why did you walk a mile and pitch a tent the morning after I found you?”

  That one I could answer with the whole truth. “I only walked a mile because my leg was killing me, and I physically couldn’t go any farther. I planned to work my way down the mountain, little by little each day and camp at night.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes before he asked the dreaded question. “What were you going to do when you got to the bottom?”

  “Uh, I was going to see if I could find a ride to a friend’s place.”

  “Well, I can take you to your friend’s place, say, maybe day after tomorrow? Give that leg one more day to heal,” he suggested.

  I tried with everything I had to keep my face neutral and hold back the tears, but I failed miserably. First my chin wobbled, then my lip quivered. Once my nose scrunched, there was no stopping the tears. “I don’t know how to get there,” I whispered. “I was hoping someone from town would know. I have to find her cabin. I just have to. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

  He made a humming noise in his throat as his arms surrounded me again. He let me cry for a bit before patting my back and saying, “Don’t worry, Locks. We’ll find your friend’s place.” After a few more minutes, he added, “I think that’s enough talking for tonight. You need to get some rest.”

  He stood and moved toward the door, but he stopped at the threshold and turned back, “I won’t lock you in here if you promise not to run away.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” And I wouldn’t. When I told him I didn’t have anywhere to go, it was the truth. With not one, but three people looking for me, my options were beyond limited.

  ***

  The following morning, I put on my big girl panties and made myself go downstairs for breakfast. Copper was at the stove with his back to me, his bare back. His well-defined, muscular, mouthwatering back. My hands itched to trace the lines of the tattoos covering most of the exposed skin I could see.

  Then, he turned around. And my jaw dropped. His chiseled chest and tapered waist were covered in ink, but his carved abs were bare. His jeans hung deliciously low on his hips, making it clear he was sporting the desired V so many women craved and very few men had.

  When I finally managed to drag my eyes away from his sinful torso to his face, he wasn’t watching me ogle him. No, he was doing his own ogling, and if my guess was correct, his eyes were fixated on my chest. I cleared my throat, “My eyes are up here, buddy.”

  He smirked, “I know they are, Locks, but I’m enjoying looking at your tits right now.”

  I immediately crossed my arms over my chest and scoffed, “I can’t believe you just said that to me.”

  “Why? You’re the one who came downstairs with those babies on full display. You don’t see me complaining about you staring at my chest, do you?” he said with a smirk and turned back to the stove.

  Part of me wanted to dash upstairs and put on the bra I forgot to don while putting on my big girl panties, as well as another shirt. The other part of me was thrilled that he was looking, and enjoying it as he proclaimed. The man was insanely hot, as in way out of my league hot.

  “If you’re finished brooding, breakfast is ready.”

  Yes, he was insanely hot, until he opened his mouth and ruined the façade.

  “I hope your cooking skills are better honed than your social skills,” I muttered, stomping with one foot to the barstool to take a seat.

  “Everything about me is well honed, Locks,” he murmured, entirely too close to my ear.

  “I’ll take your word for it,
” I retorted and shoved a bite of food into my mouth. Damn him and his good cooking for making a moan of appreciation escape from me.

  I looked up to find him frozen mid-step, staring at me. I looked down my body and back up to him. “What?” I asked, unsure of what his deal was.

  He shook his head and slowly made his way to the bar. “Nothing.”

  Okay, then. I’m not sure when the dynamic between us changed, but there was an almost palpable tension in the air. I was a firm believer in communication. So, instead of ignoring the issue and allowing it to fester, I asked, “Have I done something to piss you off more?”

  He snorted and shook his head. “I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

  “I thought I sensed some tension between us. I guess I was wrong,” I said.

  He laughed as he stood to take his plate to the sink. “No, Locks, you weren’t wrong.” With that, he rounded the corner and disappeared.

  Chapter Seven

  Copper

  I was headed for the shower after leaving a stunned Kayla in the kitchen with the intent to relieve some of the tension she was referring to when my phone rang. Phoenix’s name flashed on the screen, and I quickly answered, “Phoenix, what’s happening?”

  He chuckled, “Not a lot. I spoke to Luke last night and sent him the picture. He called this morning and asked for a better picture, closer and with her eyes open. When he ran the one you sent through the database, he got a few hits, but said he could get a more definitive answer from one with her eyes open. He said the closer the better—something about matching color and striations.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. I don’t exactly want her to know what I’m doing,” I replied. “Regardless, please thank him for me.”

  “Will do. Oh, almost forgot. He did mention none of the hits he got were named Kayla. There was a Layla and a Kayleigh, but those were the only two similar to Kayla that matched the picture. Are you sure she gave you the correct name?”

  “No, man, I’m not. Thus far, she’s proved to be a crafty little thing. Wouldn’t surprise me if she gave me a fake name.”

  “All right, man, send that picture to me if you can manage to get one. Talk to you later,” he said and disconnected.

  That woman was going to cause me to have a stroke before all was said and done. I didn’t know if I should be pissed off or proud of her giving me a fake name. I hadn’t confirmed it yet, but I knew in my gut that Kayla was not her name, and there was no time like the present to find out.

  She was in the kitchen washing our dishes from breakfast when I approached her from behind. Keeping my body out of her line of sight in case she turned around, I softly said, “Kayla.” Her head came up, like she thought she heard something, but she didn’t bother looking around. I waited a few beats and softly said, “Kayleigh.” Again, she lifted her head, this time looking to the side before going back to the dishes. After a few more beats, I said in the same tone and volume I used for the previous two names, “Layla.”

  Her head whipped up, and she looked to her left, then right, before turning around to look behind her. Could she have turned around because she thought she was hearing things and the third time was the charm? Yes. Did I believe that? Not for one second.

  I silently backed away and returned to my room. All thoughts of a tension-relieving shower had vanished into thin air. I didn’t want to get myself off to images of a woman who I knew was lying to me. No, I was going to wait for an hour or so and try the name game again. Only this time, I was going to start with Layla to see what kind of response I got. In the meantime, I needed to figure out how to get a decent picture of her without her knowing.

  The opportunity presented itself sooner than I thought. The cabin’s floor plan was somewhat open. From upstairs, the living room and kitchen were in clear view. She was still in the kitchen, staring out across the living room, seemingly lost in thought. I pulled out my phone, zoomed in, and quickly snapped a picture of her. It looked like a decent picture to me, so I quickly sent it on to Phoenix.

  At that point, I was debating whether I should wait to hear back from Luke or forge ahead with my name theory. On one hand, I was dying to know the truth. On the other, I didn’t want to spook her and have to deal with her trying to run away again. Especially after she admitted having nowhere to go.

  I spent a few hours in my room, mulling over what to do next, before I ventured downstairs for something to eat. Expecting to see Kayla curled up on the couch or sitting at the bar in the kitchen, I was surprised to find her outside on the deck. She was leaning against the railing, gazing at the breathtaking view. Upon closer inspection, I could see the pain and despair on her face. She had a story, and I had no doubt it was not a pleasant one.

  I approached her, making enough noise to ensure she heard me coming, and placed my hands on the railing on either side of her, effectively caging her in. She stiffened, but made no move to extract herself. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  She exhaled slowly. “Yes, it is. It’s so quiet and peaceful here. I haven’t had a lot of that in my life, and I think I’m going to miss it.”

  “I can understand that. It’s the same reason I come up here for a few days whenever I have the time.”

  I don’t know how long we stood in a comfortable silence, enjoying the serenity only nature can offer. It could have been mere minutes as easily as it could have been hours. At some point, she relaxed and leaned back against my chest. I forced my hands to stay on the railing, even though I desperately wanted to wrap my arms around her.

  She was maddening, even more so because it was unintentional. One moment I wanted to strangle her, and the next I wanted to smother her body with mine.

  Our quiet moment was interrupted by my phone ringing. Expecting it to be Phoenix with an update from Luke, I was surprised to see Judge’s name on the screen. Suddenly, I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. The boys knew not to call and interrupt my brief hiatus. The only one who should call was Bronze, my blood brother and my VP, and only if it was an emergency. I stepped away from Kayla and answered.

  “Prez, you gotta get your ass back here now! The clubhouse was attacked. It’s bad, brother. The place is swamped with cops and first responders,” Judge shouted into the phone.

  “Fuck!” I shouted. “I’m heading out now. Was anyone hurt?”

  There was a pause, and I knew. I knew why Judge had called instead of Bronze. “Several, including Bronze. He’s alive, but that’s all I know. He was one of the first ones taken to the hospital,” Judge said.

  “I’m leaving now. Call Phoenix and ask him to go to the hospital until I can get there. You’re in charge until I arrive. Stay safe, brother.”

  I whirled around and found Kayla staring at me with wide eyes. “I’ve got to go. There’s an emergency back home. I’m not trying to be a dick, but you’re coming with me. If you want any of your shit from around here, you have five minutes to get it into a backpack and get your ass on my bike.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but I cut her off. “I don’t have time to argue with you. You’re going with me. Now, get your shit and let’s go!” I barked.

  She flinched at my tone and then sprinted for the stairs. Good. I didn’t have the patience to deal with her if she tried to argue. My mind was racing. My clubhouse was attacked. My brothers were hurt. My brother was hurt. Fuck! I should’ve asked how bad it was. No, I should have fucking been there instead of off in the mountains trying to clear my head and take care of a random woman with trouble written all over her.

  Five minutes later, Kayla came down the stairs with a backpack strapped to her back and silently stood by the back door. I made quick work of locking up and led her to my bike.

  As I was strapping my helmet on her head, I told her, “Hold on to me and don’t make any sudden movements. Keep your legs and feet away from the pipes. It’s usually about a thirty-minute ride, but it’s going to be a lot shorter today.”

  I climbed on and barked, “Get on.” She
did, and we were off.

  Chapter Eight

  Layla

  I was terrified for a variety of reasons. First and foremost, I was riding on a motorcycle for the first time in my life, and it was not a leisurely cruise through the mountainside. No, it was an all-out race at top speeds. All I could do was cling to Copper as tight as I could and keep my eyes squeezed shut. Oh, and pray I didn’t puke on his back.

  On a positive note, my fear of becoming roadkill was keeping my mind off of venturing back into the world. He never mentioned where exactly we were going. I could only hope it was somewhere no one knew me. I wasn’t sure what I would do if it wasn’t.

  Before long, the bike slowing, coupled with the scent of smoke in the air, had me cautiously opening my eyes. And immediately slamming them shut.

  No.

  No.

  No.

  He was pulling up to a partially burnt building surrounded by flashing lights. And bikers. A lot of bikers. I willed myself not to freak out. I needed to get out of there without drawing any attention to myself. If he thought I was freaking out, he wouldn’t let me out of his sight.

  Okay, maybe I could play dumb, act like I didn’t know this was likely their clubhouse. I could promise to stay put while he did what he needed to do, and when he wasn’t paying attention to me, I could sneak away. With a plan in place, I felt better, not much, but a little was better than none at all.

  He climbed off the bike and extended his hand to help me. Once I was on my feet, he didn’t let go of my hand. Instead, he started speed walking toward a group of bikers, dragging me along in his wake.

  “Judge! Update,” he ordered.

  A large, and might I add extremely good looking, man turned his head, “Prez.” He glanced at his watch and back to Copper. “That was quick.”