McGyver

by Candace Blevins

  “The wolf needs to. These are our people, and I trust them, but the wolf still needs to make the statement.”

  Chapter 27

  McGyver woke when Iris jerked awake and scurried to the bathroom. He didn’t scent any nausea, but he was ready to jump up and take care of her if she puked. Instead, she peed, and peed, and then peed some more. He chuckled. She’d gone overboard with the Jägermeister the night before, and seemed to have won over everyone present while she got spectacularly drunk.

  “I brought some bottled water down last night,” he told her.

  She came out of the bathroom and wrinkled her nose. “Coffee?”

  “We’ll have to go upstairs.”

  “Let me change into the second pair of leggings and extra shirt my detail brought last night. Looks like they stuck some flip flops in, too.” She shook her head. “How is it the MC had extra clothes here in your size?”

  “Most clubhouses keep them stocked in the sizes most often needed for brothers. The idea is that you’ll bring them back laundered and ready to be loaned out again, but since I’m not sure if I’ll be back soon, I’ll give them a fifty.” He nodded to the hook their clothes were hung on. “Is it true you’re never seen in public in the same dress?”

  “Yeah. There’s a program that provides our dresses to high school kids who can’t afford to buy them for dances or whatever.”

  “So, do I need a bunch of suits? I have two.”

  She shook her head. “Different shirt and tie, but the same suit is fine.” She gingerly sat on the edge of the bed. “How did you manage to have coconut oil when we came back down last night?”

  “Told someone I needed some. What, you aren’t ready to bend over for me again?”

  He’d been joking, but she answered seriously. “I loved every second of it, but I think I need food and Tylenol before I can handle you again.”

  “I know, Blueberry.” He sighed. This was going to complicate things, but she needed to know. “The chase cars posted pics of the Birmingham brothers making a stand and not letting them onto the compound. It looks bad.”

  At the charity evening, when asked, he’d told most people he was a tech geek who specialized in security. He’d known Iris wanted to control how any information about her went public, and he’d planned to sit down with her in the near future, but it was too late for that now.

  “They know I’m RTMC. You’re going to need to figure out how you want to respond.”

  “We knew this was going to be a challenge.” She poked her feet into the leggings, slid them through, stood, and pulled them up. “Your privacy versus my public life. I’d like to post something saying how nice the Birmingham RTMC was to me, after giving us refuge when we were chased by overzealous photographers.”

  McGyver considered the ramifications a few seconds and nodded. “That should work, but let’s run it by Mad Dog.” Because the president of any chapter had to approve a social media post about the chapter before it was posted. Good or bad. Didn’t matter.

  Sasquatch was in the main room getting a blowjob when they went upstairs, but he looked up and made eye contact, showing he didn’t mind talking while he got it.

  Iris was leaning into him, and he could feel her looking around at the naked women and nearly naked men on the pool tables and sofas. She’d met them the night before, but they’d been clothed and awake.

  He focused back on Sasquatch. “Iris wants to send a tweet out, so I was hoping Mad Dog would be around. Are you still getting us home?”

  “Since it’s out that she spent the night here, we can either take her home with a full escort, or I can sneak ya’ll out in the van. Cameras on the surrounding blocks show a few chase cars waiting for her to come out. We’ll send someone to take your rental back a few minutes before we leave.”

  The head in Sasquatch’s lap stopped bobbing, and he moved his hips a little to encourage her. She started back, and he spoke low to her. “That’s it. Keep moving.” He looked back up. “There’s a pot of coffee in the kitchen, and an espresso machine if ya wanna work it yourself. Should be some pastries. Help yourself. I’ll fill this li’l sweetbutt’s belly and meet ya in there.”

  Iris knew the way to the kitchen, and started walking before McGyver, but he didn’t let her get far enough away to lose physical contact before he was beside her again. She looked at the espresso machine, but then opted for coffee. McGyver grinned when she made it with half milk and half coffee, but noted she didn’t add sugar. Nor did she eat a pastry.

  “You okay? Let me see if I can figure out where they keep the Tylenol.”

  “Just a little bit of a headache. Not bad. I can wait on the Tylenol — the coffee should help.”

  He found a bottle, got two out, and walked them to her. “Here. Take them. There’s a chicken place in town that has these huge biscuits. We’ll get Squatch to make a run through the drive-through on our way and get me a dozen bacon cheese and sausage biscuits. You want an egg and sausage one?”

  “Yeah. Am I going to be able to send the tweet before we leave, or will I have to wait for Mad Dog to wake up?”

  “I’m up,” came a voice from the doorway, and a few seconds later, he walked in — shirtless, his belt hanging loose over jeans with the zipper up but the snap undone, and his hair going every direction. “What do you want to post?”

  Mad Dog would be the perfect model for any high-fashion blue jeans company on the planet, but Iris focused on his face and not the beautiful picture he made in his cheap blue jeans. In this case, the clothes didn’t make the man — the man made the clothes.

  She focused back on their conversation. “Just something saying how nice the Birmingham RTMC was to me, after giving us refuge when we were chased by overzealous photographers.” She shrugged. “I considered saying how much fun I had partying with ya’ll, but I said I was leaving the charity event early because I’m still recovering from my abduction.” She shrugged. “I promised my dad I wouldn’t create drama, so just something about ya’ll being nice and making me feel safe.”

  “Either statement’s fine. No pictures, though.”

  “I wouldn’t.”

  “I believe you. Still needed to say it. Glad you partied with us. You seem good for Mac.” They heard some grunts and growls from the front room, and Mad Dog chuckled. “He’s finishin’ up. Give us ten minutes and we’ll have an escort ready.”

  “No need for a full escort if he sneaks us out,” Danny told him.

  Mad Dog shook his head. “Did some reading on your Blueberry. I didn’t know who she was at first. Now that I do, I can’t let ya’ll go without a proper guard.” He smiled. “We needed some excitement, so no worries.”

  “If you’re all escorting us home, I’ll call ahead and make arrangements to feed everyone,” Iris said.

  “Thanks for offering, but it isn’t necessary. We’ll get you to your driveway and keep going. I’m sure your security people can take it from there. While we’re out, we’ll keep going and have a nice ride without any ol’ladies. I got my VP planning our route. We don’t go riding without our women often, so you’re giving us an easy excuse to do it.”

  Iris took a sip of coffee while she considered the optics of being publicly escorted by the entire MC. No way was she going to give the appearance of being ashamed of Danny or his club. “If we’re going to be driven with an escort, I don’t want to hide. We’ll ride in the Escalade, and that way Sasquatch can ride his bike, too. If I can just borrow a hat, please?”

  “I’ll buy an RTMC souvenir hat from the restaurant.” Danny told Mad Dog while he reached for his wallet. “Can you get a prospect to run over and get one for me?”

  Mad Dog nodded and yelled for someone called Gears. The prospect asked Danny what color he should buy, and Danny looked to Iris for her to answer.

  “Well, I have black leggings and a black shirt, so a black hat will finish the look.” When the prospect left, she told Danny, “I keep wanting to insist I pay for the things I need, but I know it
just makes you mad, so I’ll be quiet.”

  Mad Dog chuckled. “And yet, you still offered.” He crossed his arms. “At first, I thought maybe you were slumming, but I’ve changed my mind. Ya’ll take care of each other. I hope you find a way to make it work.” He glanced at McGyver and looked back to Iris. “Until my brother here tells me otherwise, anytime you need refuge, you’re welcome to come to the clubhouse or any of our properties. Just tell them who you are and who you belong to in Chattanooga, and we’ll keep you safe.”

  “Thank you. I won’t abuse it, and I appreciate the offer.”

  They rode out of the compound in the middle of the thunderous noise of two dozen motorcycles. Rolling Thunder, indeed. She’d experienced it on the back of Danny’s bike while going to and from the corn maze, but now, from inside the Escalade, in the daylight, it seemed even louder.

  Iris felt completely safe. These men wouldn’t let anyone near her. Hell, even the chase cars stayed put when they drove by — who would dare follow the RTMC as a group, looking all bad assed?

  Her father’s security detail might be the best money could buy, but these men weren’t bought and paid for. They weren’t for sale. They took care of their own, and they were announcing to the world that they considered Iris to be one of theirs.

  People along the way took pictures, of course, but no one followed them.

  As promised, the bikers slowed and made sure the Escalade made it onto the driveway safely, and then they kept going.

  Two security cars were waiting, and followed them down the driveway. Her father walked out as they pulled up to the house. He was wearing dress pants and a dress shirt, but no tie. This was about as relaxed as he ever got, unless they were swimming or riding horses. When her mom had been alive, he’d dress casual for vacations, but she didn’t think he’d taken a vacation since she’d died.

  “I need a shower before I’m ready to talk, Daddy. Danny would probably appreciate one, too. We’re safe, but last night was scary.”

  “I saw it on the dash cams. I’m sure it was. The police will be making arrests soon. I intend to make an example of the men who put your life in danger.” He sighed. “Was the tweet this morning necessary?”

  “It’s already out there that we escaped to their compound, and yes, it was necessary. They treated me like family, Daddy.”

  Danny came around the vehicle and stood beside her. “Sir, if you’d like an invitation to one of our parties in Chattanooga, I can make it happen. Alternatively, we have a few big charity events a year, and we’d love to have you involved in those. Our biggest is for a local women’s and children’s shelter, but we have several pet charities, and events for each.”

  Her father shook his head as if to refuse, but said, “If you can send me sponsor information, I’ll talk to our attorneys about it. Those aren’t the kinds of charities we usually support, but it might be nice for our organizations to be seen on a joint venture, since it appears Iris’s relationship with you has gone public.”

  He was only thinking of damage control, but that was okay. Iris wanted her father to meet her new friends, and this might help make that happen.

  “Thanks for considering it, Daddy. I’d love for you to meet Harmony and Angelica and everyone else. I’m going to go take that shower now.” She looked at Danny. “Meet me in the media room? I shouldn’t be long.”

  “Let’s meet in the study beside my office in an hour,” her father said. “We need to discuss strategy.”

  Danny flicked down on her chin and touched her nose. “Let’s just meet in there. I need to talk to Duke and Brain — brainstorm the extra security we need in place at home.”

  Her heart flipped in her chest. She was causing so many problems.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head. “No apologies. We take care of our own, and you’re mine.”

  Fifty minutes later, Iris stepped into her father’s study, hoping to have a chat with him before Danny arrived. However, the room was packed with people — her father’s head of security, two PR people, an attorney, a police officer, Danny, and her father. Danny patted the spot beside him on the small sofa, and she went to him.

  She worried it’d be awkward, but easy as pie, he put his arm around her, snugged her into him, and that was that. She was his and he was hers.

  “What did I miss?”

  Danny’s voice vibrated beside her. “The police have made some arrests and social media’s buzzing. Your father’s going to let you release the security detail’s dash cams on your social media accounts. They’re putting together the scariest highlights of the chase.”

  “Am I still going home Sunday?”

  “Yes.” Her father leaned forward. “You and Mr. Franklin will ride home in my plane, and members of his club will pick you up and take you to their clubhouse, escorted by Drake Security.”

  “You won’t be returning to your statistics class,” the attorney told her. “The university feels your presence will be distracting, so you’ll meet with the professor as often as it takes for you to learn the material, and you’ll be given the same tests and quizzes as the other students. You’ll return to your other classes as normal on Monday. A Drake employee will be with you at all times, dressed as a student, even in your classes.”

  “I made a call,” Danny said. “A friend of a friend is a physics professor, and he’s friends with your statistics instructor. Your father is paying your professor for his time, but I believe Cole will be able to help smooth the way, so your professor won’t see it as…” he shrugged. “He shouldn’t be antagonistic about teaching you one-on-one.”

  “And next semester?”

  Her father’s head of security put his coffee on a side table. “We’ll work with the university to come up with the best plan.”

  “Okay. That takes care of the logistics, but I thought we were going to discuss strategy.”

  “What are you going to tell the world?” her father asked.

  “Danny and I need to talk about that alone.”

  “I think we can talk about it here.” Danny gave her opposite arm a little squeeze. “Anything involving the club has to be run by Duke and possibly put up for a vote, but as far as our relationship is concerned, I can’t imagine having a problem with anything you’d want to say about us.”

  “I don’t think I need to mention the club. Perhaps just say we knew each other as teens and we’ve reconnected, and I’m hoping we can have a little privacy while we figure out who we are to each other now, as adults.”

  Iris noted her father had brought a male and female PR person in. The woman clicked her tongue once and said, “It’s a start. Don’t say you knew him as a teen, or people will assume you had underage sex with him. Perhaps, ‘Daniel Franklin and I have recently reconnected, and we would appreciate some privacy as we explore the possibility of a relationship’.”

  Iris was about to protest when the man shook his head. “She should refer to him as Danny or Daniel, and asking for privacy is passé. How about, ‘Danny and I have recently reconnected and we’re still figuring things out. I’ll continue to be open about my life, but I’ll also continue to be private about my budding relationship with…” he shrugged. “What do you want to say about him? The last man you hope to date? Your soul mate? Your childhood friend?”

  She looked at Danny and grinned. “My geeky badass biker?”

  Danny laughed. “You make me sound like an oxymoron.”

  “Why call him anything at all?” asked the woman. “Just say ‘I’ll continue to be private about our budding relationship’.”

  Iris nodded, pulled her phone out, found a picture someone had sent her of the two of them dressed up at that gala, laughing and happy, and she composed the tweet. Danny and I have recently reconnected and we’re still figuring things out. I’ll continue to be open about various parts of my life, but I’ll also continue to be private about our budding relationship.

  “Any issues with this, Danny?”

  “N
ope. Picture and wording are good.”

  She looked to the PR guy and met his gaze. “It still feels wrong to be posting about personal shit when families are burying their sons and daughters, brothers and sisters.”

  “Follow it up with a tweet about how valuable his support has been and continues to be,” he said. She’d known his name at one point, but she couldn’t remember it, which wasn’t like her.

  The woman clicked her tongue again. “Danny’s support this week has been invaluable.” She looked at the police officer. “Her father’s attorney can then make a statement to the media about Mr. Wendel and Mr. Franklin working with the Birmingham Police Department to be sure Miss Wendel is not subjected to…” She waved her arms. “We’ll figure that out. The point is, the tweets and statements should be released within the same hour or two.”

  Iris added the part about Danny’s support to her tweet, since doing so kept her within the maximum characters. She asked Danny, again, if it was okay. When he said it was, she hit send.

  “Okay, that’s that. Anything else?”

  “How open are you going to be in Chattanooga?” her father asked.

  “If we eat at the RTMC’s restaurant, no one will take our picture. I’d like to eat at other places, but I guess we’ll have to work with the Drake people.” She shrugged. “We’ve been taking it slow, but we’d talked about making things public in the near future, this just pushed it up a little. No one’s followed me around at home, so I’ve been able to do things with the women, and no one’s noticed. They’re only following now because of the abduction. We just have to wait them out, so I’m not news anymore, right?”

  “It’s supply and demand,” the woman PR person said. “If the gossip sites are willing to pay big money for shots of you, the photographers will follow. It’d be nice if just being in a smaller city would shelter you, but a few years ago, they converged on Chattanooga for shots of Travis Winslow when he and Cara got serious. If they persist, you may be best off doing an interview that takes away the mystery.”