Tangled Threats on the Nomad Highway

by MariaLisa deMora

  “Anything else?” Einstein’s fight with the threatening tremor in his voice was successful, his words coming out as if oiled with a rival's blood. “From this fast-tracked rumor mill?”

  “Nothing yet, but I’ve put out feelers, so maybe we’ll get something more. Anything I hear, I’ll pass on. You know that’s true.” Hesitation filled Smoke’s voice as he resumed a more normal volume. “You heard I lost a brother?”

  “We did.” Use of the plural was intentional, and the choked sound from Smoke meant he’d caught it. “Hard to lose a member. Harder still to lose someone in the trusted circle.”

  “Sucks hard, man. I didn’t see it comin’, either. Means either I had a blind spot because it was him or a blind spot because I’m just fuckin’ blind. Haven’t sorted out yet who knew what, and when.” Smoke cleared his throat. “Be worth it to me if you heard anything along those lines. If the Bastards heard anything.” The acknowledgment of what his “we” had meant was gratifying. “Make it worth y’all’s while.”

  “I’ll pass the ask along. See what we might have in the books.” An intentional veil of mystery over the process the Bama Bastards followed for rumor collection was to indicate they held a cache of information they’d only provide if there was a request. “We’re usually content to watch how things shake out. I know Retro and Mudd think highly of you, so might be a chance they’ve banked something already. Either way, I’ll pass it along and you’ll hear from someone.”

  “And if I catch word of anything else from Scar, I’ll call you personally.”

  Smoke’s reassuring words weren’t needed. Einstein already knew this. Smoke owed him for a favor done last year, and the information about Scar only went a little way towards clearing the debt.

  “Appreciate it, brother. I’ll revise your tally.” Unlike some men, Einstein didn’t have a problem calling someone on a favor owed. Revealing that Smoke’s information didn’t completely fulfill the need was just good business. “Later.”

  “Shiny side.”

  Einstein let his hand drift from the handlebar to where Marian gripped his belt and wrapped his fingers around hers. He squeezed, leaning into the wind when her thighs responded, tightening around his hips.

  Scar’s message had been clear. He believed Einstein had latched on to someone and was building a life beyond the broken one the man’s actions had left him. It didn’t take much thought to realize the only person who could fit that bill was Marian. Even if Einstein had just realized it this morning for himself, in retrospect, it probably had been apparent to anyone who witnessed how they were together. Given the number of people who came to Bane’s mini-rallies, the tales back to Scar could have started with anyone. Which meant even if he left and never returned—the notion of which made his stomach flip in uncomfortable ways—she might still be in danger.

  He needed to attack the rumor at the base, but knowing the potential for hurt, had wanted to talk to Marian first. Then he’d walked into the florist shop and caught Noah’s knowing look towards the door to the workroom. Rejecting the emotions she stirred in him was one thing, but rejecting her? He couldn’t imagine intentionally hurting her like that.

  The idea of the late lunch had come over him in an instant, and he’d rolled with it, because for the life of him, Einstein couldn’t imagine riding away from Marian. The sweet, caring ways she brought to everyone in her life had grown to include him from their first meeting. I can’t give her up. He rolled the throttle a little more, picking up a bit of speed at the idea. If I can’t give her up, then maybe I can figure out if I can take what’s in front of me. The concept of pretending to be a couple was a flash of genius. I hope. Test driving this feeling while telling her it was just pretend.

  What can go wrong?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Marian

  “I’m sorry. What?” She scooted a little farther into the corner of the booth and away from Einstein’s body. Normally if they shared a meal out, they took opposite sides of the table. Today he’d steered her onto the bench farthest from the door of the diner, then followed her in an unexpected move. She hadn’t questioned it at the time, just took a pair of menus from where they were tucked behind the napkin holder and passed one over.

  Then he’d blown her mind with a request, something she would never have expected. Not from him.

  “I need you to go along with a pretext that we’re together.” One corner of his mouth lifted as he repeated his previous words. “There are good reasons.”

  “Together-together? I at least want to hear your motives.” The approaching waitress looked like salvation. The interaction would give her time to catch up with the conversation, because even though the words were simple, the meaning behind them wasn’t. “I’d like a coffee, black.” Marian toned back the desperation in her tone. “Um. Please?”

  That curl of Einstein’s lips spread until he was smiling broadly at her. Without looking away, he told the waitress, “Make that two. And go ahead and bring some cream.” He reached past Marian to nudge the container of sugar packets closer to her. “She wants the grilled cheese with cheddar, not American. Throw some bacon on a burger for me. Fries with both.” He angled his face towards her, and one eye swooped closed in a slow blink Marian cataloged for later. “That’ll do it for us. Thanks.”

  Marian shifted and stared up at the waitress, hoping if she stopped looking at Einstein, things would return to normal between them. His smiles were usually full of mischief and affection, not whatever his expression a moment ago might mean. And he didn’t wink at her. Ever.

  The waitress gave her a grin, pen scratching at the pad in her hand. “You got it.” Then the waitress also winked at her before walking away.

  “Marian.”

  She scanned the diner, not seeing any faces she recognized. Working in the back of the flower shop meant she occasionally interacted with customers, but not often enough to get to know many of the folks, especially not from out of town. The diner he’d brought her to was two towns away from Baker, and something about that settled her nerves. Whatever it was he wanted, Einstein didn’t need anyone who knew them to see them together. Not right now. Not yet.

  “Baby.”

  The tender way he said the word had her head jerking his direction, and she took in his features. He was intelligent; she knew that from their many conversations, and from hearing the people she trusted talk about him. Smart and handsome, and if Einstein had decided he needed her to play a part in whatever scheme he was cooking up, she was inclined to go along with it. But the sweet names? That felt dangerous. To my heart.

  “It’s nothing bad, promise.”

  “Tell me why.” Marian pressed her trembling hands against her thighs. She wanted to cover her mouth, tug at an earlobe, or fiddle with her hair, but any of those would expose the nervousness in her belly that had swamped her at his request. He can’t know what I’ve been fighting. She’d been around bikers enough to know they were people like any others. Einstein, though? The way he and Retro observed their surroundings and the people around them was different. Like they could just look at someone and know what was in their heads. “I don’t understand why you’d need me.”

  “We’re friends, right?”

  Marian nodded slowly, then drew back so the approaching waitress could deposit coffee cups and glasses of ice water on the table.

  “Thanks,” Einstein responded to the waitress, then reached past Marian again to drag the sugar closer. It was the work of moments for him to doctor one of the cups, and Marian didn’t miss how he’d gotten it exactly right. As always. He even dipped a spoon into the water and retrieved a couple of ice cubes, stirring them into the cup. “Here you go, baby.”

  Marian closed her mouth and stared at him. That damn grin came her direction again, and the fluttering in her belly got worse than before.

  “Is it okay?” He nudged the cup closer to her. “Did I do okay?”

  “Yeah.” Never taking her gaze off his face, she reached for
the cup and lifted it, sipping slowly. “It’s good.” Licking her lips, she set the cup back into the saucer with a tiny clatter. “We are friends.”

  “Yeah, we are.” He leaned closer, his shoulder bumping against hers before she could dodge away. “You’re my best friend. Did you know that?”

  She blinked, unsure how to answer him.

  “Retro even called me on it a while back, said he didn’t exist when you were around. Claimed to be hurt and pained by the jealousy his realization caused.” Einstein’s grin split his face, showing white teeth that moved to clamp on his bottom lip. “Told him he was a damn fool, but I see it now. This morning, I finally understood what he meant. I think we’re always going to be friends, Marian. More than friends. And that’s why this makes so much sense.”

  “Nothing about this makes sense yet.” She shifted and looked out the window to where his bike sat in the parking lot. He’s in a club, and that holds every bit of his loyalty. This is something to do with the BBMC, I bet. “Just explain what you need, and I’ll tell you honestly if I think I can do it.”

  “I’ve been looking for a man. For years now, been looking for him. For some reason I can’t figure yet, he’s being flushed out of hiding now, and I want him. Marian, I want him.” Einstein’s expression changed, hardening and growing remote as it closed down. “He did something to me, something to people I loved, and after he went into hiding, I’ve only caught third- or fourth-hand information about him. This is a lot closer than that and feels like he’s intentional about being drawn out.” The fist he had on the table clenched tight, knuckles going white. “I want him.”

  “What did he do?” The pain that flashed across Einstein’s features made her wish she could call back the words, not wanting to wound this man, and especially not with something she didn’t understand. “I’m sorry.” She tried to cover the blunder, but Einstein shook his head. He turned from her and lifted the cup of coffee he’d left for himself, taking a series of hard swallows she knew had to burn going down. “Jim, I’m sorry.”

  “You hear stories about what happened to me?” His gaze cut her direction, then back to the cup resting between both of his hands. “Anyone tell you?”

  “No.” This was truth, at least. “At first Bane said it was your story to tell, and I understood him not wanting to gossip. Then as time passed, it seemed less important that I know your past, because our friendship was in the now. If that makes any sense.”

  “Makes a lot of sense, baby.”

  Marian couldn’t stop the way her body reacted to that sweet word, heating up until her cheeks were blazing.

  “And I’m a selfish bastard, because I’m glad that my friends and brothers protected me like that. Means I get to be the one to tell you.”

  He pulled in a hard breath, and she instinctively reached for him, laying her palm on his thigh. His hand landed on top of hers, and like he had when they’d been walking the street earlier, he twined their fingers together.

  “You make everything easier, did you know that?” His question didn’t need a response, so she just gave his fingers a squeeze. “The man I’ve been looking for is Bane’s blood brother. You should know that up front. They don’t speak, don’t ever associate with the other. As close to strangers as two men could be. They’re on opposite sides of nearly every moral stance that can be taken.” She’d been about to speak but closed her mouth as he continued. “My first trip to Baker was to feel Bane out, see what he might know about his brother. Didn’t take a hot minute to know they weren’t alike. Learning that Bane wasn’t like the Scar I knew from the past? Just the way he cared for your family told me what I needed to know. Scar, that’s his brother’s club name, was my president. Long ago and far away, and almost like a different life.”

  “What does that have to do with me?” He moved in the seat, and she was so focused on him, the waitress’s appearance startled her into pulling away, yanking her hand free. Plates rattled against the table, were slid into place, and then a bottle of ketchup landed on top of the ticket near the end. “Thanks,” she called out belatedly, pleased when the woman lifted a hand acknowledging her gratitude. She snapped her gaze to Einstein and found him grinning at her, the expression happy and guileless. “What?”

  “Your default is just so fuckin’ sweet.” He pulled her plate closer and rearranged the food to make space, then grabbed the ketchup bottle and upended it. A couple of whacks of his palm later, and a gurgle of red descended to her plate. “There you go, baby.” He sent her plate sliding; it stopped in the exact place it needed to be in front of her. He conducted the same procedure with his own food, minus the sliding plate of course. “What does it have to do with you?” Einstein dipped a fry into the puddle of red, then slipped it into his mouth. He seemed to be thinking hard as he chewed and swallowed, following it with a sip of water. “Everything, baby.”

  “Why are you calling me that? Don’t do it. That’s not nice.” Her stomach revolted at the idea of food, and she shoved her plate away slightly. “I never thought you’d be mean.”

  “Sweetie.” The kind tone registered at the same time she felt his fingers wrap around hers on top of the table. “This isn’t me being mean. If you agree to what I want to do, you’ll have to get used to me talking to you like this.”

  “Maybe just tell me? I don’t understand anything about anything. And that’s unsettling.”

  He released her hand and slipped her plate back in front of her, the scraping grating on her nerves. “Eat, Marian. I promise I’ll tell you everything. But I have to start where it began.” He nudged her plate closer with the back of his hand. “Eat, baby.”

  Marian picked up half of the sandwich and took a bite, then directed a glare in his direction. He chuckled and met her tiny bite of bread and cheese with a giant one of his own, leaning close to devour most of what she held in her fingers.

  “Got you a start.” He pointed to his burger, then lifted and offered it to her. “Fair is fair. You love bacon.” Marian fought a grin as she took a dainty bite from one side. “Now, you keep eating, pretty lady. I’ll tell you my story.” That impassiveness took over his expression again, and Marian steeled herself for whatever he was going to say, knowing it was something he held close.

  “I’m married.”

  She choked on a drink of water. Shooting a glance at his left hand, she didn’t try to hide the surprise. She remembered the first time they’d met, and he’d worn a ring. When it disappeared between one visit and the next, she moved it to the back of her mind. Married? Still? Then again, that would explain so much, like why he treated every woman in their circle with a careful friendliness. But then, what about all the “baby” names today?

  “Yeah. Shocker, right? Keep the ring in my bag, where it’s safe.” He patted the front of his vest. “I keep my memories closer than that. Lauren. She and our little girl Makayla are my life. Love them both so much. They died a little under five years ago.”

  Marian forgot how to breathe at the pain in his voice paired with the terrible news.

  Upper lip curling in a silent snarl, he paused for so long she wasn’t sure he’d continue. “Scar killed them. Doesn’t matter he wasn’t physically present when they took their last breaths—he killed them.”

  “He killed them?” Marian wanted to comfort Einstein but didn’t know if he’d accept anything from her right now. It hurt to hold back, but she wanted to give him whatever he needed. “Oh, Jim. That’s terrible.”

  “Yeah. Really fuckin’ is. No reason for what he did. His beef was with me, but he knew taking my girls would ensure I’d go along with whatever he wanted. Anything. But then he didn’t keep track of his insurance and they died. Left me standing. That was his second mistake. Man should have killed me right then, not left me breathing.”

  His burger thudded back onto the plate, and Marian felt an echo of the tremor of his fingers in matching shivers deep inside her belly. She inched closer to him on the bench, plastering herself along his side.
>
  “But he didn’t. Took my girls in a way that left me responsible. I’ll never get back from that, Marian. There’s just no recovering, you know?” The click of his hard swallow was audible. “Been looking for him for years, and you’ll ask me what I did that first year and a half they were gone. It’s a real question, and I know how it’ll reflect on me, but all I did at first was try to find a way to follow them that wouldn’t leave Retro and my brothers in the BBMC in a bad way. There’s a history between me and Scar, and I’d told Retro about a message from him a few weeks before shit went down.” He cut a glance her way, a sickly smile flashing on and off his face. “You know how Retro is. If I made my own exit, he would have taken that on himself. I didn’t want to leave him with that.”

  “I’m glad. Whatever the reason is you held on, I’m glad.” Marian draped an arm over his back, the leather of his vest cold against her skin. She curled her other hand around his arm and held tight. “That sounds like a fistful of pain, Jim. I wish I could do something to make it easier on you.” She remembered his earlier words, the unexplained request. “Tell me. Whatever it is, I’ll do it for you. You really want me to pretend to be your girl? Is that what the sweet words mean? If that’s what you need, I’ll do it.”

  “You need to hear the rest.” Marian leaned her cheek against his shoulder, shaking it in negation. “Seriously, Marian. This won’t be a walk in the park.” Fingers covered hers and squeezed. “Eat, baby.”

  “Tell me the rest of it. What you think makes a difference. Tell me, get it out, and we’ll both eat.” She didn’t move, sticking close to his side.

  His chuckle rattled through her. “You’re tough.”

  “The way I grew up, it wasn’t a choice to be otherwise.” The waitress started their direction but locked gazes with Marian, who shook her head again. The woman turned on her heel and walked the other way. “I’ve got my own stories, but today, this is about you.”