by Devney Perry
I flipped the sign on the office door to CLOSED as the guys took a seat. Not exactly the long table in the clubhouse where we used to have meetings, but a stark reminder of just how much things had changed.
Silence stretched on long and tense as we waited for Dad to speak. The clock on the wall ticked in a mismatched rhythm to my heartbeat.
“Draven.” Emmett broke first.
“We went to high school together.” Dad’s eyes were trained on the papers scattered on Presley’s desk. “I knew her from years back.”
We all knew that already, thanks to Bryce’s newspapers, but I doubted Dad had read them since he’d been released. None of us interjected, though. We let him take his time. The president, current or former, deserved that respect.
“She called me out of the blue. I hadn’t heard from her in ages. Met her at the motel,” Dad continued. “Talked for a few hours, catching up. Spent the night.”
“Did you fuck her?” I asked.
His eyes snapped to mine, a hint of remorse flashing through his gaze. Then he gave me a single nod.
So Bryce had been right about that too.
“Spent the night. Got up to go home. Shower. Came to work. You were here for the rest.”
“She was stabbed,” Emmett said, his fingers steepled by his chin. “Any idea if the cops have a murder weapon?”
Dad sighed. “According to Jim, they found one of my hunting knives at the motel.”
“How would they know it’s yours?” I asked.
“Has my name engraved on the side. Your mom gave it to me ages ago.”
“Shit.” Leo let his head fall back into the wall. “You’re fucked.”
The room went quiet again—Leo wasn’t wrong. If the police had the murder weapon and could put Dad at the scene, there wasn’t much else they were missing.
“Anything else?”
He shook his head. “Don’t know. Jim advised me to stay quiet. I met with Marcus twice and he asked me some questions about what happened. How I knew her. Didn’t tell him much other than we went to high school together. After that, they pretty much left me alone in my cell. Didn’t ask anything else.”
“Yeah, because they don’t need to ask questions,” Emmett said. “They have you at the scene during the time she was killed. It was your weapon. Unless we can prove it was someone else, they have all they’ll need to put you away.”
“What about motive?” I asked. “Why would you kill her?”
Dad hesitated, his eyes dropping to his feet. But then he raised them and shook his head. “No idea.”
My gut twisted. I could count on three fingers the number of times Dad had lied to me. Now I’d be adding a fourth. It wasn’t obvious to Emmett and Leo, but there was something he wasn’t saying.
With Emmett and Leo here, I wouldn’t call Dad out. I’d ask about it later, when it was only the two of us. For now, we had other things to discuss.
“So it’s a setup.” It had to be a setup. Right? Dad would have told us if he’d killed the woman. “Who would want you to take the fall for this?”
Dad huffed. “That’s a long list, son.”
“Make it anyway,” Emmett ordered. “We gotta start somewhere.”
“I’ve got some ideas,” Dad said. “I need to make some calls, then we’ll regroup.”
“Fine. There’s something else.” I paused, taking a deep breath because I doubted the reaction to my announcement would be positive. “Made an agreement today with Bryce Ryan.”
“Who?” Dad asked.
“The hot new reporter in town,” Leo answered. “Dash has been following her around all week.”
“That so?” Dad’s eyes narrowed.
“It’s not like that.” Now it was my turn to lie. “Told you yesterday she’s good. I dropped by the paper today to have a word this morning. We made an agreement. She tells us what she’s got. We do the same. But first, she wants to talk to you.”
“No.” Dad stood and went to the door. With a flick, it was open and he was storming out.
“Where the hell are you going?” I chased after him. He moved fast, not stopping as I followed him outside. “Dad. What the fuck? We aren’t done talking.”
“Got nothing else to say right now, Dash. You wanted to talk. We talked. Now I need to go. Get some space.”
“What for?”
“What for?” He whirled on me, anger coloring his eyes. “A woman I knew for over forty years is dead. A woman I cared about. And she’s dead because of me. So is it too much to ask that you give me some fucking space and let me get my head wrapped around that?”
Fuck. I took a step away, holding up my hands. This wasn’t about Amina.
This was about Mom.
This was about her murder and the guilt Dad had been carrying for decades.
The love of his life was dead because of his choices. He’d cost Nick and me our mother. And now another woman was dead because no matter how normal his life was these days, Dad would always be a target.
“Someone wants you to spend the rest of your life rotting in a prison cell, Dad. I’m just trying to see that it doesn’t happen.”
“I get it.” He blew out a long breath. “Amina, she was . . . there’s history. I can’t think straight right now. Been trying to think it through for over a week. Before I can talk about it, I need to work it out in my head.”
“’Kay.” He might need time, but I was going to keep pushing hard to find out who’d really killed that woman. I wasn’t letting the cops steal my only living parent for a crime he hadn’t committed.
Dad walked to his bike, stopping three feet away to speak over his shoulder. “Stay clean on this, Kingston.”
My spine straightened. Dad hadn’t called me Kingston in years. It was like Mom rattling off our first, middle and last names when we were in trouble.
“I mean it,” he said. “Don’t do something stupid to land yourself in a cage too. Worst case, I spend the few years I have left wearing orange. I’d handle that a lot better if I knew you were free.”
I nodded.
“That’s what it was always about. Being free.” He walked over to his bike, touching the handlebars. Though the Tin Gypsies were no longer, he still had the old motto etched on the gas tank.
Live to Ride
Wander Free
Dad and Emmett’s father had started the Tin Gypsy club back in the eighties. They’d recruited some friends until it had grown and grown. In the beginning, it had been a bunch of young guys who’d wanted to ride bikes and say fuck you to any authority or convention. They wanted the chance to make some extra money for their families.
This was back when they restored bikes with scrap parts, the metal more like cheap tin than the steel machines we spent fortunes on now.
When Dad spoke of that time, it seemed simpler. It might have stayed that way if Mom hadn’t died.
Dad blinked a few times too fast and my heart twisted. Was he crying? I hadn’t seen Dad cry since Mom’s funeral. Even then, it hadn’t lasted for more than a few heartbreaking tears. He’d been too angry to cry. Too focused on vengeance to let his grief show for long.
Without another word, he swung his leg over the bike. He plucked his sunglasses from his hair, hiding any emotion, and raced out of the parking lot like his nickname was Dash, not mine.
I hung my head, rubbing the tension away from my neck.
“We all know who set up Draven.” Emmett’s voice behind me was low. I turned to find both him and Leo standing a few paces away.
“Yeah.” We all knew. “Dad’s got to be the one to make that call.”
“You could,” Leo argued.
“I could, but I’m not going to.” It was the reason I hadn’t made that call when Dad was in jail. “Dad approaches the Warriors. No one else.”
Emmett and Leo nodded without another word.
“Let’s get to work.”
Maybe another afternoon working on cars would help me figure out what the hell was happening. Be
cause at the moment, I sure as fuck didn’t have a clue.
“So much for your truce.” Bryce spun away, marching out of the garage. “I knew this was a mistake.”
“Wait.” I chased, grabbing her elbow. “Just wait.”
“Why?” She yanked her arm free. “This is quid pro quo. I give you something. You give me something. If Draven isn’t here to tell me his side of the story, then me being here is pointless. I’m leav—”
“My dad did not kill Amina Daylee.”
She faced me again, planting her hands on her hips. “How do you—”
“I just know.” I locked my eyes on hers. “He didn’t kill her. But someone did and if you believe in truth and justice the way I suspect you do, you want to find the real killer.”
“The cops—”
“—have a man pegged dead to rights. They aren’t going to dig any deeper than the surface.”
She huffed. “How can I trust—”
“You can—”
“Stop interrupting me.”
I clamped my mouth shut.
Her face was red and her chest heaving. “How can I trust you?”
Trust? “You can’t.”
Bryce let out a dry laugh. “Then what are we doing?”
I took a step closer. The pull to be near her was irresistible. I wanted her to believe me, at least once. “Don’t trust me. And I won’t trust you. Maybe we can just not stand in each other’s way and both get our answers.”
“Seems complicated.”
My hand drifted to her cheek, framing her face. “It is.”
“Dash,” she warned, putting her hand between us. It rested on my chest, firm, but she didn’t shove me away.
I inched closer. The pressure on her hand gave way. “Can’t stop thinking about your lips.”
Bryce’s eyes fell to my mouth.
My hand came up between us, covering her own and trapping it to my heart. I expected her to try and yank it away, but then it fisted in my T-shirt as she dragged my mouth to hers.
My tongue delved into her mouth, taking the time to explore the corners I’d missed on our last two kisses. With my free arm, I pinned her to me, my arm tight across her shoulders. I angled my head to get deeper and steal her breath.
She trembled, her knees wobbling, but she clung to me as fiercely. The kiss was hot and wet. Blood rushed to my cock, making it swell against her hip.
“More,” she moaned into my mouth.
I growled, letting go of her hand to grab her ass, hauling her up and around my hips. Her legs wrapped around my waist and her arms looped around my neck. Walking us to the closest surface, I set her down on the hood of the Mustang I’d worked on all day.
The owner was an arrogant asshole from Hollywood and I wanted nothing more than to fuck Bryce on the hood of his car.
That was definitely where we were heading. Bryce’s thighs squeezed tight around me as I laid her on the glossy hood. The metal buckled slightly as I settled my weight onto her, pressing my chest against her breasts. Our mouths broke apart, hers to gasp for air while I sucked and licked my way down her neck.
“Tell me now if you want to stop,” I panted against her collarbone.
She shook her head, her hands diving into my hair. “Don’t stop.”
I yanked hard at the V-neck of her shirt, dragging it down over a breast. Then I did the same to the cup of her bra, so I could latch my mouth over a supple nipple.
Bryce’s back arched off the car, thrusting her breast even farther into my mouth. Her fingernails dug into my scalp.
My hands tore at the other side of her shirt, seams splitting as I freed her other nipple. “Last chance.”
I flattened my tongue, dragging it over the hardened bud.
She hissed. “Stop.”
The lust roaring through my veins turned to ice, and I froze. Shit. I hadn’t expected that. I took my mouth from her skin, backing away a few inches.
Bryce sat up on the car, once again fisting my shirt as she pulled me close. Nose to nose, she whispered, “Stop warning me away. Haven’t you figured it out? That just makes me want it even more.”
Thank fuck. “Then hold on.”
Slamming my mouth back onto hers, we kissed through a frenzy of fumbling fingers and flying clothes. Bryce yelped when I jerked her off the car’s hood and onto her feet. I’d already tugged off her T-shirt and she’d done the same for mine. The bra was next. But as I reached for the clasp, a breeze drifted into the garage, bringing us both back to reality.
One of the bay doors was still open. It was only eight and the glow of the sunset still illuminated the parking lot. This time of year, it didn’t get completely dark in Montana until well after nine. Not that it mattered. The shop’s lights were blazing. Anyone driving by would see us going at it on the Mustang.
With a fast swoop, I picked Bryce up, one arm under her ass to support her as my other one dove into that soft dark hair, her legs wrapping around me again. I used my grip to tilt her head, then fused my mouth with hers, kissing her senseless as I walked us to the other wall.
The pressure in my cock made walking uncomfortable, especially when she ground her center closer. I finally reached the control panel and punched the red button to shut the door. The outside light faded, leaving only us and the florescent bars beaming overhead.
Bryce reached between us, her hand sliding down the bare skin of my stomach until it reached the waistband of my jeans. With a flick of her fingers, the button came undone. The zipper followed. Then she dove inside my boxers, fisting my shaft as I groaned down her throat.
“Fuck.” I tore my mouth away, searching for a place to put her. My eyes landed on a tool bench. Two long strides and I set her down, shoving and pushing away the tools I hadn’t put away.
Bryce’s frantic movements matched my own as she reached behind her and unclasped her bra. “Hurry.”
“Condom.” I dug into my back pocket for my wallet and fished out a condom.
Shifting her weight on the bench, Bryce struggled to get out of her jeans. They were too tight, goddamn it. I’d appreciated that when she’d walked into the garage earlier. But now?
“Christ.” I picked her up by the armpits, her breasts bouncing as I set her down. Then I dropped to my knees, pulling the black denim and panties off her toned legs so fast that she had to steady herself on my shoulders. The sandals on her feet clattered to the floor.
I couldn’t resist. Her bare pussy was right there and I leaned in, dragging my tongue through her folds.
“Oh my God,” she gasped, nearly collapsing on me.
I grinned and stood. I’d have my mouth on her again. Soon. But right now, I wanted to bury myself inside her.
My boots and jeans were gone in a flash, the condom rolled onto my pulsing cock. Then I had Bryce up in my arms. This time, I spun us for the wall, her spine colliding with the cool concrete at the same time I lined up with her center and thrust deep.
“Ahh,” she cried, the sound of surprise and pleasure echoing off the walls.
I buried my face in her neck, sucking in a breath so I wouldn’t embarrass myself and come after just one stroke. “Goddamn, you feel good.”
She moaned, her head lolling to the side. Just the slightest tilt of her hips told me she wanted more.
I slid out, slowly, then pistoned forward again, earning myself a hitched breath and whole-body shudder. “Good?”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “Harder.”
“Fucking right, harder.” I obeyed, setting a steady rhythm. The sound of her tiny moans, the feel of her wet heat, the way she moved with me, thrust after thrust. The air around us was electric. The need to get more, be deeper, sent me into a blind animal state. Fucking this woman is incredible.
We grappled, hands going everywhere trying to feel it all. We kissed, hard, bruising licks that didn’t satisfy the craving. We rebounded from surface to surface, abandoning the wall when it wasn’t enough. Discarding the tool bench when it wasn’t enough. Until we en
ded up on the Mustang again, both of our bodies glistening with sweat and steam condensing on the hood beneath us.
“Dash.” She writhed as I laced my fingers with hers, holding them flush to the red metal. “I’m—”
“Come, Bryce.”
She came so hard I saw the white spots in her vision. As she pulsed and squeezed my cock like an iron fist, I let loose, pouring inside her and groaning to the ceiling.
Limp and wrung out, I collapsed onto the car next to Bryce, my heart thundering behind my ribs. “That was . . . fuuuuck.”
There weren’t words. Sex like that shouldn’t exist because now I wanted it every day. Bryce was more addictive than any drug on the planet.
We heaved, coming back to reality, until our bodies cooled with the unspoken tension.
We’d fucked. Hard. We’d exposed ourselves, bringing along a weakness neither of us could afford.
“Oh my God.” Bryce shot off the car like a lightning bolt. I propped up on an elbow, my legs dangling to the floor. I’d never seen a woman dress so fast.
Damn if that didn’t bruise my ego.
“Thanks. I needed that.” I regretted the words instantly.
Bryce’s arms stilled as she zipped up her jeans. The look she shot me had the power to kill, but she schooled the fury quickly and slid on her sandals.
Maybe she should hate me. Maybe I should drive her away. It was probably better that way. So I might as well make it stick.
I flopped back on the car, tossing an arm over my forehead to hide most of my face. “Side door leads to the parking lot. Do me a favor. Flip the lock on your way out.”
Chapter Ten
Bryce
I should go inside. Except I was having a hell of a time getting out of my car.
I was parked in the lot of the Clifton Forge High School, inspecting my nail polish. I’d spent two hours doing a home manicure last night. It was a comfort thing. When I had a lot on my mind, painting my fingernails was my go-to stress reliever. And considering what had happened with Dash in the garage last night, there was a lot on my mind.
I’d gone straight home after he’d dismissed me. Well, not exactly dismissed. I was already leaving. His parting words had shocked me, enough that I’d obeyed and locked the side door behind me.