Dude with a Cool Car (Concrete Angels MC Book 2)

by Siobhan Muir

  He sighed. “Short of my death, I won’t ever be safe. And neither will you. Immortal goddess of retribution or not, I can’t put you in that kind of danger.” His resigned expression told me he wouldn’t be convinced in the usual ways. “I won’t put any of the Concrete Angels in that kind of danger.”

  “Even Gopher?”

  He cracked a sad smile. “Yeah, not even him.”

  I nodded. “Okay. Then we’ll just have to kill you.”

  His one eye opened wide. “What?”

  “We’ll just have to kill you.” I grinned. “That way the Backlog guys will think the problem is solved.”

  He eyed me for several seconds. “You’re serious.”

  “Yup.”

  Coop’s brows came down over his eyes. “Why does that make you grin?”

  “Because I’ve always wanted to try something like this.”

  He swallowed hard. “Try something like what?”

  “Try making someone disappear. It’s like WITSEC, only sexier.”

  “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

  I shook my head. “Nope. Come on, Coop. I’ll help you up and get you out of here. Then we’ll work on your disappearing act.”

  “Karma, I’m in the hospital, recovering from a collapsed lung and a concussion, plus I have pins in my arm from where it was broken in three places. I can’t just leave.”

  I snorted. “You can, and you will. Come with me to the Concrete Angels’ compound and let Nightingale look after you. I guarantee her infirmary is far cleaner than this place, and you’ll be way more comfortable. Plus, I’ll be there.”

  I moved toward the bed to start unhooking the IV and heart monitor, but he held up his good hand to stop me.

  “No, stop. You have to get away from me. I can’t let them hurt you, Ma’am. I couldn’t go on if you got killed because of me. I don’t matter, and if I stay away from you, you’ll be safe. I have to do this because you’re more important than me.”

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong.” I leaned forward until we were nose-to-nose. “You’re mine and I take care of what’s mine. It’s my job, remember? I’m the Enforcer and I take care of what needs to be done. And right now, you need to come home with me where you’ll be safe until you heal completely. Hear me?”

  He stared at me a long time, taking in my words and my expression, and I prayed to the Goddess that he wouldn’t fight me on this. I couldn’t be without him any more than he could be without me. But if he insisted I leave, I’d have to take his wishes into account. I might be his Madam, but he was the one in control, and ultimately, he made the choices.

  His jaw bunched before he drew in a deep breath. “Do you love me, Ma’am?”

  I blinked, excited and afraid all at once, but there was no question in my answer. “Yes, very much.”

  “Even if I’m a U.S. Marshal?”

  I nodded. “Yes, very much.”

  “And will you allow me to keep trying to bring Backlog down?”

  “Yeah, hell yeah. I’ll help.” I smirked as I turned off the heart monitor. “A lot of those assholes have some karmic debt to repay and I’m looking forward to cashing in.” I stopped, making sure I met his molten chocolate gaze. “Making sure you’re protected is my first priority, though. Which means the local group of Backlog who knows who you are will have to be taken out.”

  “You mean, they’ll have to be killed.”

  “Probably, yeah.” I didn’t tell him most of them were already dead. I was the Enforcer, after all. “They have karma coming and they upped the ante when they attacked you. Challenge accepted.”

  Coop grimaced as he slowly sat up. I helped him move his feet to the floor and handed him the bag from the chair. I knew he didn’t like killing people as a solution. He was a good guy, a cop, and bringing people to justice was his schtick. But in this case, Backlog had infiltrated the system and didn’t play by the rules. Maybe someday there’d be enough judges and cops and agents who could override Backlog’s insidiousness, but until then, I would protect Coop from them with more permanent solutions.

  “I brought you one of Torch’s t-shirts, an extra-large sweatshirt, and sweatpants, and some athletic slides. That’ll help you get out of here without anyone really noticing.” I also handed him a Colorado Avalanche ballcap to cover his head. “Will you be able to walk, or should I get a wheelchair to help you out?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, a wheelchair might be a good idea if you actually want me out of here.”

  “Okay, let me help you get dressed and I’ll go find one.”

  I helped him get out of the hospital gown and had to bite back an exclamation over the bruising on his torso. Anger flared at the visible damage on his beautiful body and I reached out to steady him with one hand. As soon as I touched him, I released some of my life years, pumping the energy into him before I could stop myself.

  What the hell?

  I’d never given my energy to anyone, ever. Hell, I didn’t know I could do that. But the power flowed into his body, fixing the punctured lung, knitting the ribs, and repairing the damage from his concussion. For just a moment, he glowed with returned vitality and health, and his eyes widened as he stared at me.

  “Holy shit, what the hell was that?”

  I released him and stood back, waiting for the feeling of being drained to swamp over me. But it never came and I blinked back at him.

  “I dunno. I’ve never done that before, but I think I just gave you some of my physical life energy. Maybe. Sort of.” I grimaced. I didn’t know how to explain. “Maybe it’s because you’re my true mate.”

  “What? True mate? What does that mean?” He blinked at me and already the swelling around his eye had reduced to almost normal, his face only slightly lopsided.

  I wanted to blurt out the whole thing, but I didn’t know who else might be listening or watching so I gave him a neutral smile. “Let’s get you dressed and out of here. I’ll explain everything in the car.”

  There was a lot of grunting and hissing while we got him dressed, and none of it was in the good, porn sort of way. But at last he wore the sweatshirt that read, “Colorado Avalanche” and the matching sweats over the t-shirt. I’d snipped off the tags, but he still looked like he’d just gone shopping at a sports gift shop.

  “All right, come with me and keep your face turned down and to the left while we find a wheelchair. I don’t want to leave you here in case a nurse or someone comes in.”

  Coop nodded without a word and I inserted my shoulder below his armpit as I wrapped my arm around his waist to help him out the door. No one seemed to notice our exit though it probably looked weird to have a small woman helping a tall man down the hall. But Coop kept his face away from the cameras and we found him a wheelchair to make it look more natural.

  “Come on, honey. Let’s get some fresh air.”

  I set the duffle bag gently in his lap as I pulled out my phone and texted Torch to bring the van to the front doors. Then I pushed him to the elevators, trying to look bored and casual. I didn’t want any of the nurses or doctors asking where I was taking Coop.

  I’d brought a brimmed slouch hat to cover my hair and face, and left my cut at home so I wouldn’t be as easy to identify should anyone look at the security cameras later. The elevator apparently had a lot of stops to make because by the time the doors opened, I was sweating bullets.

  The car held a couple of nurses with clipboards and a visiting family. The family got off and sauntered past us, but the nurses stayed in the elevator. I swallowed back my unease and backed the chair into it.

  “Excuse us.” I gave them an apologetic smile as I settled in to the back. Please, Goddess, get us get out of here before they notice he’s gone.

  No one spoke in the elevator but as soon as the doors opened, I made a break for the front doors. We were half-way across the entry when Coop stiffened and swore under his breath.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “See that doctor with the nurse?” He nodde
d toward a pair of people carrying paper to-go cups of coffee as they headed toward the elevator.

  “Yeah.” I pulled the wheelchair to the side out of the flow of foot traffic.

  “That’s my doc and the head nurse on my floor. They’ll recognize me.”

  Fuck. I bit my lip and glanced around. The doc and the nurse were headed straight for us so I ducked from behind the chair and stood in front of Coop, bending down to talk to him. I figured if they were gonna look at anything it would be my ass in my blinged-out jeans rather than the man in the chair. Plus, my wide hips managed to completely block their view of his face.

  “So, here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m going to get you into the van that Torch should be bringing and we’ll disappear. How much stuff do you have at your apartment?” I kept my body in between the chair and the medical professionals taking their damn sweet time to get to the frickin’ elevator.

  Coop frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  I sighed, wishing the elevator doors would open soon as I stepped back behind the chair and turned him to face away from the people waiting to get on. “You have to disappear, Coop. That means you have to clear out your place. Unless you want someone else to take your stuff?”

  He scowled. “You think we have to hurry to do that? I’m not dead yet.” We’d almost made it to the front doors and I could see the van waiting in the covered pickup area.

  I shrugged even if he couldn’t see it. “Not necessarily, but when they realize you’re out of the hospital, that’s the first place they’ll look for you.” I bit my lip. The next piece of info was going to hurt. “And we’re gonna have to get rid of your car.”

  “What?” Yup, I could hear the outrage and disbelief in that one word.

  We pushed through the sliding doors and I wheeled him over to the curb before locking the brakes on the chair. I grimaced as I met his gaze.

  “That Caddy is the most recognizable car in Colorado, Coop. If they see it, they’re gonna know it’s you.”

  I offered him my hand to get out of the chair, but he didn’t take it. My unease rose as he waited. The hospital staff would be checking on him soon and we were running out of time to get away.

  “That car represents a new beginning in my life, Karma.” He said the words quietly but they were no less powerful.

  “I know. I know it’s important to you. But it could also represent the end of your life if they find you with it.”

  He got out of the chair without a word and I hurried to open the van’s sliding door for him. He didn’t look at me as I helped him climb in and my heart quailed in the face of his hurt. I rubbed the back of my neck as I met Torch’s gaze.

  “I’m gonna take the chair to the nurse’s station. I’ll be back.”

  Torch nodded, his gaze full of sympathy. Coop was losing so much. His life, his job, his car, all because of Backlog and their willingness to do damage to people. I didn’t want him to lose so much, but maybe changing who he was on the outside would free him to do a lot more to take Backlog down. And with karma on his side…

  The painful laugh worked its way up from my chest as I parked the chair and returned to the van. Still, I needed to do something nice for Coop when the dust settled. He wasn’t a biker, he was the Dude with a Cool Car. I’d have to figure out a way to let him keep that description.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Cooper

  My chest felt like someone had taken a mace and swirled it around inside. It might have been from the punctured lung or the beating I’d experienced. Or it might be more about the loss of Rosé. When Karma told me I’d have to get rid of my car, it felt like she’d finished the job the Backlog thugs had started.

  She was right, of course, but that didn’t mean it felt good.

  They’d taken me to my apartment and I’d directed them to what they could pack and what they could leave. There wasn’t much there. I was a confirmed bachelor and I hadn’t spent much time at home after my divorce. Karma drove Rosé up to the compound and I’d sat in the front seat of the van beside Torch, stewing. None of this was fair, but then, I’d already learned the hard way that life wasn’t.

  I wanted to rail at life, fortune, the universe, venting my rage at Backlog’s grip on my life and those of my colleagues trying to make things better for the public. It wasn’t fair that I had to go into hiding, lose my home, my job, my friends, and my car just to keep myself and Karma safe.

  And that’s the thought of every person in WITSEC.

  The Marshal’s Service oversaw the program to protect the innocents from criminals bent on killing them. Most of the time it was for a trial, but in other instances, it was forever. The irony of punishing the innocent for daring to speak up against the malignant and guilty. No good deed goes unpunished.

  Was it better to be alive and someone/something else? Or did it make more sense to stay who I was and put a target on my back, ending with my death? And am I more upset with losing the life I’ve built or a damn car?

  I was still chewing on those questions a few days later after I’d recovered in Nightingale’s infirmary. Karma had been right. It was much cleaner, smelled better, and been a lot more personal than the hospital’s care. Plus my nurse was a helluva lot sexier.

  I’d slept a lot, but Karma had come in often to tell me about the planning sessions going on to help me disappear into the woodwork. Viper and Neo were working on my new identity documents and Torch and Calhoun, a sarcastic woman with sharp eyes and a British accent, had worked out how we’d “kill” Marshal Cooper DeVille in his 1962 Pompeian Red Cadillac. My heart ached at the loss to come.

  I wanted to contact Battlebourne and Fitzsimmons to tell them I was okay but would disappear, but that defeated the purpose of WITSEC. Maybe I’d take a drive to California and write them a postcard without my name on it, just mention something only we’d shared. I’d have to wear gloves to protect my prints, but it might be worth all the trouble to let them know.

  Thanks to Grub’s good cooking and Nightingale’s expert care, I could walk and move about pretty easily. I hadn’t heard where I’d be staying—or if I’d be staying. Scott, Attila, and some of the others had voiced their concerns over having me stay. Voiced. Ha. More like railed and shouted. I’d heard some of it from the infirmary.

  Scott was the loudest until Karma pointed out he’d hooked up with a former FBI agent. He’d argued that they’d known who Numbers was before she came onto the compound and I’d been hiding my true purpose, lying to everyone. I’d tuned out after that. Scott was right and I couldn’t change how it all had turned out anyway.

  “If your face gets any longer, you’re gonna look like a hound dog.” The woman known as Dollhouse rested her hip against the observation chair as she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Thanks. Nothing like a dog reference to perk someone right up.” I hadn’t meant to sound so sullen but my heart apparently was taking the lead at the moment.

  Fortunately, she laughed. “Yeah, it wasn’t meant as a compliment.” She tilted her head and squinted. “Though maybe you are kinda like a dog that’s been kicked and doesn’t know who it can trust or if it will find another good home. You feelin’ kinda adrift?”

  I shot her a dry look, but bit back the acidic sarcasm trying to break free. Did I feel adrift when my whole life, friends, and car were being taken from me? Let me just think on that a moment. But I didn’t have the energy to fight the truth so I nodded.

  “Yeah.”

  She nodded as well. “Yeah, I figured. My brother doesn’t like or trust you, says you’re still playing us. But Karma’s smarter than he is and she says you’re on the up-and-up. And I know what it’s like to lose everything and have to start over.”

  “Thanks. I think.”

  “Yeah. I don’t have to tell you if you fuck things up with Karma you’ll have a helluva time here, but you aren’t without friends. Torch vouched for you, too.”

  “Torch?” There was a surprise. I’d liked the guy the mo
ment I met him, but I hadn’t expected him to back me up in front of the others. “Wow. Good to know. And yeah, I know I’m on thin ice here. But at this point, I’m no longer a Marshal.”

  “Actually, you are.” She held out some papers to me and I picked them up. “It’s nice to meet you, Eric Marshal, Dude with the Cool Car. Turns out you were born in San Antonio, Texas, and you have three brothers in the Armed Forces. Two have been killed, of course, one in Iraq and one in Afghanistan, and the third is comatose in at the Coronado Medical Center in California.”

  “Holy shit.”

  I had a new license, social security card, and even a birth certificate. According to everything, I was Eric, no-middle-initial, Marshal who’d been born in San Antonio thirty-eight years ago. Parents deceased, brothers mostly deceased, and never married.

  I glanced up at her. “Why would you do all this for me?”

  Dollhouse shrugged. “Karma loves you, and she knows how important taking down Backlog is to you. She can’t save your life, but she can give you a new one so no one else has to lose theirs.”

  “What happened to the real Eric Marshal?”

  “Died a few weeks after birth from a heart defect, I think. Neo would know.” She headed for the door. “Sounds like we’re gonna make this official tomorrow night. Karma just needs a little more time to find the head guy who had you beat up.”

  “Who, Ainsworth?”

  “You know the guy’s name?” Dollhouse paused at the door.

  “Yeah, Daniel Ainsworth, Police Commissioner of Fort Collins.”

  Dollhouse whistled. “That should make it a lot easier. I’ll tell her and she’ll be back with a plan.”

  “Why didn’t she come to bring this to me herself?” I couldn’t hide the hurt in my words.

  “I think she’s giving you time to come to terms with the change that’s barreling toward you, knowing she’s the cause.”

  “Backlog’s the cause.”