by Brook Wilder
I wasn’t either of those girls.
Groaning, I put my face in my hands, forcing myself to focus on the present. I needed to find my father and figure out what was on this SIM card that was so important.
But I couldn’t very well do it with Crankshaft watching my every move or Kristina making him do so.
Crankshaft walked back in the room and the air left it in a rush. God, the man was sexy.
“You up to helping me out?”
“With what?” I blurted out immediately, surprised at my own forward response.
“My bike. I need to get my bike out of lock up.”
“I’m not hacking into their system and getting it out.”
He chuckled and the sound swallowed my body whole.
“No, I just need someone to drive my truck back here once I get it out, the legal way.”
Embarrassed, I pushed my glasses up on my nose. “Oh. How do you know I won’t take your truck and run?”
“Because,” he answered, a hint of a grin on his face. “You want to find your father as badly as we do. I don’t think you will run at all.”
He was right, damn him. I did want to find my father. I could pull off a search for plates anywhere, but what would I do when I got a match? I needed these people.
Staying with this club was also the way to keep him safe and alive. “Alright,” I finally answered. “But on one condition.”
I could tell my request surprised him. “What’s that?”
“What is your real name?” I didn’t want to call him by his club name anymore. I guess I wanted to make him seem real to me, know for sure that he wasn’t just a stone-cold biker kidnapper who could have killed me at the first opportunity.
My request seemed to pain him, and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. Was it that scary to him?
What was his story? How had he gotten involved with this club to begin with? The questions kept coming and I wasn’t so sure I would get any answers.
“Harrison,” he finally bit out, not looking at me. “It’s Harrison.”
That name totally didn’t fit him, but I didn’t tell him that. “Alright, Harrison. Let’s go.”
Chapter 8
Harrison
“Mr. Parker, if you will just sign here then we will be all squared away.”
I picked up the pen and scribbled my name on the paper, glancing once more to make sure my truck was still parked out front of the police station. Why I had chosen Sabrina to come with me was beyond me, but since Widow Maker had clearly stated she was my responsibility, well, it had just happened.
“Thank you, sir. I hope you brought your keys.”
“Yes ma’am,” I said, holding up the keys. I was out two hundred and fifty bucks but was ready to have my bike back. The truck had always been my backup vehicle, but I much preferred my bike. There was something about riding out in the open that always soothed me.
The police officer reached under the counter and buzzed me back to the impound lot where I found my bike under a metal carport. Lovingly, I ran my hand along the gleaming chrome bars before hopping on and cranking up the engine.
She fired up right up and I wasted no time pulling out of the lot and alongside the truck, where Sabrina had already slid into the driver’s seat. She looked nervous about being here and I couldn’t blame her.
Hell, I was nervous about being here. Even though we had the bridge between the Jesters and the police, I still felt the target on my back whenever I was around the cops. “You want to ride?”
Sabrina looked at me, confused. “I thought we were going back to the clubhouse.”
I arched a brow. “Do you really want to go back right now? Didn’t you say it would take some time for that search to run?”
Her eyes travelled along the bike. “I don’t… bikes are not something I like a whole lot.”
“Tell me about it,” I answered, amused. “You’re the reason we’re here, remember?”
She colored, adjusting her glasses perched on her nose. Sabrina had done that a few times now and I recognized it as a nervous tendency. “I’m sorry. I will pay you back.”
“I’m not worried about the damn money,” I growled. “You gonna ride or not?” I was itching to get out in the open road for a while, to forget about the shit going on here.
Sabrina cut off the engine and opened the door, handing me the keys. “I won’t die on this thing, will I?”
I took the truck keys, tucking them in my pocket. “I can’t promise you anything, but it won’t be from my driving.”
She muttered something under her breath before swinging her leg over the motorcycle, sliding until her breasts brushed my back. I drew in a breath when her arms went around my waist, and adjusted on the seat to make room for my instant raging hard-on.
Damn this was a mistake, but I wasn’t about to back out now. “Hold on,” I told her as I backed the bike out of the parking spot.
Her arms tightened on my waist and I shot out of the parking lot, not too concerned about my truck. It would likely still be there when we got back. As I pulled onto the highway, I started to feel the tension ease from my body, knowing I was leaving Castillo behind for an hour or so. I felt too caged up in that clubhouse, though some of it was because of the woman currently wrapped around my back. Sabrina had impressed the hell out of me when she had found that license plate, but using a public database to search for their route? That was pure genius.
She had mad skills, skills I hadn’t expected her to have.
That was why I’d been drawn to have her tag along to get my bike. I was intrigued, which was dangerous ground for me with someone like her.
After about twenty minutes, I pulled off the highway and into the gravel parking lot, killing the engine. A familiar concrete building stood before me, with black bars covering the windows in the front.
A few bikes littered the parking lot, which in the middle of the day, wasn’t unusual to see.
“Where are we?”
I unlocked her hands from my waist and slid off the bike carefully. “Come on. Let’s get some food.”
Sabrina shook her hair loose from the ponytail, her glossy black hair falling over her shoulders. “I don’t know about this.”
I grinned. “So, you will hack a public transit system, but you won’t walk into a hole-in-the-wall bar?”
She seemed to shrink within herself. “I’ve never been in a place like this.”
I held out my hand. “First time for everything. Come on. They won’t bite. Not when I’m with you.”
She didn’t look that excited about it, which made me even more excited about giving her this experience as she climbed off the bike, ignoring my hand. “They have food here?”
I nodded as we walked side by side to the door. “Hell yeah. Best burgers around.” I had been coming here for years, enjoying the fact that it was out of the way and discreet. Sure, I had conducted some business here, too, but I wasn’t anticipating having to do so today.
I pushed open the door and stepped into the dimly lit interior, the smell of grease and cigarette smoke heavy in the air. I led Sabrina to the bar and gestured for her to sit down on the barstool before doing so myself, choosing two that faced the door just in case.
In a career path like mine, I didn’t like to have my back to any door or window. “What’s your poison?” I asked her.
Sabrina looked around and I could tell she was uncomfortable. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought her here.
I shouldn’t even be with her at all.
“I don’t drink, well I mean, I don’t drink a lot.”
I motioned for the bartender. “Two beers.” That was safe enough for a lightweight.
Two bottles were plunked in front of us and I picked mine up, taking a long draw from it. The cool liquid chased down my throat and I started to feel the edge slipping away. This was my territory.
After draining nearly half the bottle, I looked over at my companion, who was taking a tiny sip of the bee
r. “What do you think?”
She set the bottle back down. “The bar or the beer?”
“Both,” I grinned, resting my elbows on the scarred bar top.
“They’re both fine.”
Well she wasn’t much for words. “So, tell me how you learned how to hack into that system.”
Sabrina ducked her head, looking around as if the police were just waiting to jump out and arrest her. “Do you have to say that so loudly?”
I laughed. “You’ve got to loosen up. That kind of constant worry can’t be good for you.”
“I normally don’t do things like that,” she said softly, holding the bottle between her hands. “But I learned it in college. I’ve always had a knack for computers. It’s not hard once you know where to look.”
“How long do you have?” I asked, hating that I was curious.
“One more year,” she said in a rush, her eyes sparkling. “I’m almost done. It’s been a long four years.”
Well hell, now I would have to make sure she stayed alive long enough to graduate. “That’s quite an accomplishment. You should be proud of yourself.”
Sabrina looked over and I swallowed as my body reacted to her innocent gaze. Damn I shouldn’t have this sort of reaction to her.
She was hands off, yet here I was, sitting with her at the bar like we were something more. “What?” I asked roughly, pissed off at myself.
She visibly swallowed. “I was just wondering what your role is in the club. Surely it’s not kidnapping.”
Her attempt at a jest forced me to relax. “You don’t want to know about me.”
“Sure, I do,” she replied, taking another sip of her beer, this time enough to call it a swallow. “You know about me anyway. Why can’t I know something about you other than your first name?”
Because she wasn’t even a friend. I didn’t have friends. Because I valued my privacy and didn’t like people knowing shit about me… or knowing me in general.
Hell, there were a thousand reasons I didn’t want to tell her things about me. “I’m an Enforcer.”
Sabrina leaned forward, suddenly interested in what I said. “What does that mean?”
“I kill people.”
Her eyes widened before she let out a little laugh. “Oh, you’re joking.”
I shook my head slowly, feeling like the biggest ass on the planet for telling her this. Even though it was the truth, I felt like I was sullying her somehow. “No, I’m not.”
My deadpan look must have registered because she lost her smile.
“You kill people. Like a hitman or do you just run around killing anyone you see?”
Well, she hadn’t lost her sense of humor. “Most are an assignment I’m given. Most are enemies.”
“Most?” she asked hesitantly.
I nodded. There was no reason to lie to her.
“You’ve got to be shitting me. When did I get so fucking lucky to be in the presence of greatness?”
I rolled my eyes before turning on the stool, seeing Gun Jesus stroll into the bar, his long hair hanging around his face. There was a rumor that the man had gotten lost in the desert on some sort of sabbatical and had found God during his time.
Now he fancied himself a religious fanatic along with his ability to get whatever weapons we needed, whenever we needed them. “Gun Jesus. Just the man I have been looking for.”
But he wasn’t looking at me. “Who is this lovely present from God?” he asked, reaching for Sabrina’s hand.
“Sabrina,” I offered up, giving him nothing else. That would be left up to her to tell him.
“Lovely,” he breathed, kissing the back of her hand.
A spurt of unbridled jealousy shot through me as I watched the exchange, including the way Sabrina flushed at Gun Jesus’s attention. Had she looked at me like that? “Cut the Romeo shit. I’ve been looking all over for you.”
He dropped Sabrina’s hand, finally turning his attention toward me. “You jealous I am not lavishing attention on you, Crankshaft?”
“No,” I ground out, sliding off the stool. “We need your fucking help.”
***
As much as I hated to cut my time with Sabrina short, I got us back to the clubhouse, where the search was all but finished on the license plate. Gun Jesus watched with the same admiration I had as Sabrina isolated the rest of the route and then stepped back, a triumphant smile on her face.
“There. That’s where my father is.”
Gun Jesus peered at the screen, shaking his head. “That’s not good. That’s a den of cartel members right there. It’s a trap. I’ll bet you a hundred bucks it’s a trap.”
“How do you know that?” Sabrina asked as I looked at the location.
“Because,” the weapons dealer replied. “It’s too easy. Your father should be over the border by now. The only reason they would be keeping him within an hour’s ride of here would be to lure the Jesters and the Bitches into an ambush.”
Gun Jesus was right, but I wasn’t about to say it in front of him. Still, it had been my responsibility to get the accountant in the first place and I wasn’t going to let this possibility of finishing the job pass me by.
“We will get him,” I told Sabrina. “And bring him here.”
“I’m telling you, man,” Gun Jesus said. “The good Lord is showing you a sign and you are ignoring it. Ignoring it!”
Great. He was riled up. Next, he would be spouting bible verses and telling us all to repent. “I’m going to talk to Chains.”
Sabrina followed me out into the hallway, her hands shoved in the back pockets of her jeans. “Is it going to be dangerous? I mean, is he right about the ambush?”
I turned to face her, seeing the concern in her expression. Whether she was worried about me or her father, I didn’t know, but my money was on her father. “It will be fine. We’ve been through shit like this before.”
She bit her lower lip and I felt the effect as a damn lightning bolt to my cock.
“I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“We have guns, too, you know,” I offered up, hoping like hell she wouldn’t see the sudden strain on the front of my jeans. “It’s fine.” Without waiting on another word, I turned and walked down the hall, her concern bothering me far more than it should. She didn’t give a damn about me. I was the reason she was here in the first place.
We had to get this accountant. If he had what I think he had, it would cripple the cartel and drive them back to Mexico and out of our territory.
It might even get the police off our backs completely.
Turning the corner, I walked directly into Chains’ office, finding him actually seated behind the desk for once, reading a piece of paper in front of him.
And wearing glasses.
He looked up and pulled them off his face like they were on fire. “They aren’t mine.”
I grinned, leaning against the doorframe. “Sure, they aren’t. Did you just have them on to improve that mug of yours?”
Chains shook his head, throwing them onto the desk. “Damn man, I can’t see. Kris made me go to the eye doctor the other day and I’m blind as a bat.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I answered, sobering. “We found the accountant.”
“Great,” he said, relief on his face. “How?”
Quickly, I told him about Sabrina and her skills, feeling vaguely proud as I did so.
Chains looked surprised as I finished, leaning back in the chair. “Sounds like we could use someone like that in our club.”
“Already tried it,” I said. “She’s not interested.”
Chains grinned. “Yeah, we will see about that. Alright, I will pull a team together, you at the lead. We will go before dawn in the morning.”
The rush of the hunt flowed through me, the anxiety of having to wait not far behind it.
This was what I lived for.
Nothing else.
Chapter 9
Sabrina
I
pushed the door open to the little suite of rooms just as the sun was starting to dip low on the horizon, worried about my father. The rest of the afternoon had been a flurry of excitement in the club and I had caught enough pieces of conversation to figure out they were sending out a team to get my father in the morning.