Make Me (KPD Motorcycle Patrol Book 4)

by Lani Lynn Vale

  I liked her.

  A lot.

  She was beautiful, kind, and funny.

  Not many women would’ve come over here when they’d heard me coughing up a lung—hell, there’d been two prostitutes on the street corner right outside my shop that hadn’t said a word—but she had.

  But, when I was sent home with a bitch ton of meds, a shot of steroids in the ass, and the instructions not to do anything strenuous over the next twenty-four hours, I hadn’t expected her to find trouble.

  Trouble in the form of her talking shit to the two ladies that’d been on my corner when I’d left, but now were on the corner closest to the welding shop.

  I looked cautiously at Royal, who was yelling and waving her arms at one of the prostitutes.

  From what I could understand, one of the women had swindled her brother out of some money. Some money that she said she needed to help cover a doctor’s appointment. A doctor’s appointment that was just a front so she could walk into the vape shop two doors down and splurge on a new vape.

  “Jesus Christ,” I muttered, parking my bike and getting off.

  Once I had the large garage bay door open, I exited back outside only to come up short when I saw Marcus standing in the middle of my driveway staring at the scene across the street.

  God. Dammit.

  I knew I should’ve gone over there as soon as I’d gotten home.

  Belly tightening in worry, I didn’t move a muscle as I waited for what was about to happen.

  It didn’t take long.

  “Kill her.”

  I looked over at Marcus who’d shown up finally to get his car at the complete wrong time.

  I was glad to know he hadn’t been waiting when I’d gotten there. He’d said he’d be a couple of hours, and I hadn’t wanted to wait.

  I’d taken a chance that he’d be longer than he said he would—and he had.

  Lucky for me. Unlucky for Royal.

  “I’m sorry, what?” I asked.

  “I said, kill her.” He looked over at me, zero emotion in his eyes. “Have your fun with her, then kill her. You want in? That’s your way in. I want her dead body on my doorstep in an hour.”

  Marcus walked to his car and drove off without paying me a dime.

  The asshole.

  I’d spent hours on his car, getting it running and making sure that it didn’t leak any more oil, and he’d just driven off with an asinine request that he just assumed I’d follow.

  I gritted my teeth and walked up to the woman that had just ruined everything.

  When I got my shop closed back up, and had my medicines tucked neatly into my saddlebags, I marched across the street and tried to ignore the way my chest felt tight as I moved.

  I wasn’t sure if it was from my illness or fear.

  Probably, it was okay to assume both.

  When I arrived in the office, it was to find Stratton already laying into her.

  “…fuckin’ crazy?” Stratton bellowed. “You can’t yell at his girls like that! You know how he is!”

  Exactly.

  Ex-fucking-actly.

  Jesus Christ.

  Did she not know anything?

  How had she survived working on this street for so long? I’d asked around about her when I’d first gotten the job. She’d worked here for a while.

  “That woman just took a hundred bucks of my brother’s and didn’t even pretend to use it for what she said she was going to use it for,” Royal argued. “That’s a bunch of bullshit.”

  Stratton shoved his hand through his silvering hair.

  “You’re on vacation for a week, starting now,” he said.

  Royal opened her mouth to argue, but I got there first.

  “You’re on a vacation for two,” I said. “And, if it’s my choice, you’ll never work on this street again.”

  “Amen,” Stratton muttered.

  Royal whirled around and stared at me in shock.

  “Come for a ride with me,” I said. “I need to talk to you.”

  Royal narrowed her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Yes,” Stratton said. “You are. He’s going to kill you.”

  Royal rolled her eyes. “He is not.”

  He was, too.

  “Please?” I asked.

  Royal sighed. “Where are we going?”

  I gestured for her to follow, and then straddled my bike.

  “I’ve never ridden on a bike before,” she said as she stared at it with confusion.

  I held out a helmet to her and she took it. When she put it on, it shifted slightly on her head.

  “It’s too big,” she stated the obvious.

  I reached up and tightened the helmet as tight as it would go.

  “It’ll work for now,” I said.

  She smiled then, and my heart lurched slightly at seeing her eyes light up like they had.

  “Come on, get on,” I said, straddling the bike and taking a seat.

  She eyed the spot behind me and bit her lip.

  I held out my hand, which she took.

  “Come on,” I urged again. “There’s enough room. I promise.”

  Sighing long and loud, she clearly shared her displeasure.

  I turned my face away to hide my grin and tried not to groan when she mounted the bike behind me. She felt good pressed up against my back.

  So good, in fact, that I inhaled deeply.

  Which only started a coughing fit on my end.

  “I better not get the plague from being this close to you,” she muttered.

  I wasn’t sure if she’d intended to say it loud enough for me to hear her, but the grin was back the moment my coughing fit ended.

  “Wrap your hands around me,” I ordered.

  She didn’t hesitate to do as I told her, though much more loosely than I wanted.

  I started the bike up, knowing the moment we got started that grip would turn lethal.

  And she didn’t disappoint. Once I had the bike moving, her arms tightened with enough force to start another coughing fit on my end.

  I could practically hear her sigh as we made our way down Eleventh Street.

  And when I passed where I knew Marcus lived, I wasn’t surprised to see that he was standing out on his front porch, arms crossed over his chest, watching us drive by.

  I didn’t nod at him, and I sure the fuck didn’t miss the grin that was on his fuckin’ face as we passed by.

  And neither did Royal if the shudder that went through her was anything to go by.

  When we finally made it off of Eleventh Street, turning onto Twelfth, followed by Main, it was like we were transformed into a different world. A pall of black gloom always felt like it was lifted off of my shoulders, and I couldn’t help but wonder if the same thing happened to Royal every time she left the street, too.

  The yards went from unmanaged and in sore neglect to nice and pretty. Mailboxes went from hanging all the way open—because the mailman didn’t waste time delivering mail by closing the lids when he didn’t have to—to closed nice and neat. Hell, even the trees looked better.

  I wasn’t really the kind of person to wish a place gone, but I knew that if Eleventh Street was hit by a storm or something and the houses went missing, nobody but those on Eleventh Street would care.

  “Where are you taking me?” she yelled at my back.

  I didn’t answer her.

  If I did, there was no doubt in my mind that she’d have something to say about it.

  Instead, I just drove.

  I knew the moment she realized where we were going.

  She stiffened imperceptibly at my back, and I had a feeling that she was seriously considering jumping right off the bike and running the moment that we were stopped.

  I caught her hand before she could get much further than a few feet the moment the bike rolled to a stop right outside the front doors.

  She hissed at me an
d tried to yank her hand away, but I caught her again anyway. “No, Royal. Listen to me.”

  “No, you listen to me.” She shook her head. “I know how shit works. I know that if I go to the cops, I’m as good as dead. I’m not going in there and reporting shit.”

  I caught her up in my arms and pulled her until she was on the bike in front of me, sitting crossways on my lap.

  “Royal, stop,” I hissed.

  She froze when the authority entered my voice, and her eyes met mine with a look of fear and guilt.

  “He already ordered me to kill you,” I said softly. “You’re already dead, as far as he’s concerned. What’s it matter now?”

  She swallowed hard.

  “My brother is still on that street,” she said.

  “Your brother’s shift ended an hour ago. I got a buddy. He made sure that your brother got home safe and sound.” He paused. “Though, tomorrow, I think he should definitely look into quitting.”

  She seemed to deflate in my arms, finally realizing just how futile her situation was.

  “Come on,” I urged. “Let’s go inside and get this over with.”

  I could practically feel the reluctance rolling off of her as I helped her get to her feet.

  I also didn’t admit how fuckin’ great it’d felt having her in my arms.

  When I led her inside, we didn’t stop to talk to any of the front office ladies who manned the desks behind the glass partition. Nor did I give anything but a nod to each person I passed.

  Well, I tried to, anyway.

  Lock, better known as Lachlan Downy, Junior, stepped in front of me and stared.

  “You look rough, motherfucker,” he said. “Are you dying?”

  “He has the plague,” Royal supplied helpfully.

  Lock’s eyes went from me to Royal, and I could see the shift in his features as he looked like he came to a decision.

  “Mine,” I growled.

  Lock’s lips twitched. “Of course, she is.” He let his gaze linger on our joined hands. “How’s the undercover work going?”

  That was when it seemed to click in Royal’s mind.

  Chapter 8

  I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you don’t need to go to Target today.

  -Royal’s secret thoughts

  Royal

  I wasn’t sure how the hell I found myself in the situations I always found myself in, but Jesus Christ. The one I was in right now was a doozie.

  “Of course, she is,” the redhead sighed. “How’s the undercover work going?”

  That was when everything just fell into place.

  The authority that I could always feel practically oozing off of him. The way he held himself. The way he was always so watchful.

  Then, more recently, to him walking straight into a police station and inputting a code that only other cops would know.

  He wasn’t an informant. He wasn’t just a mechanic.

  He was a cop.

  Fuck. My. Life.

  The man I had the hots for was a cop. I had the hots for a cop!

  “Swell,” Justice answered his redheaded friend. “I’m done now, though. I’ll be back to my regular schedule tomorrow.”

  That was when he started coughing again.

  “Ummm,” the redhead said. “You should probably get that checked out.”

  “I told you,” I said, feeling slightly disconnected from my body. “The plague.”

  The redhead’s mirth-filled eyes met mine. “Noted.”

  I slammed my hand down on Justice’s back, knowing that it likely wasn’t helping, but wanting to touch him anyway.

  God, he had muscles on top of muscles.

  “You can stop now,” Justice said.

  That was when I realized that he was no longer coughing.

  “Oh.” I yanked my hand away. “Sorry.”

  His eyes met mine for a few long seconds, and he looked like he was about to say more when an annoyed, “What the fuck?” was heard.

  I turned to see an older man that I’d seen before standing in the doorway of an office just a few feet from where we were standing. He had his hands on his hips as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

  “Captain Morgan,” Justice said. “Nice to see you.”

  “Why are you here?” he asked, his eyes flicking from where Justice still had a death grip on my hand to him and back.

  “Long story,” he said. “I have to go talk to the Chief and Tellings and then I’ll come explain.”

  Captain Morgan’s eyes came to me, and they narrowed.

  “Why do you look familiar?” he asked bluntly.

  “Because you get drunk with my father every other month.” I shrugged.

  Captain Morgan nodded. “Ahh. How’s your father doing?”

  “Still an asshole, last time I checked.”

  I wouldn’t really know. I didn’t make it a habit to talk to him when I didn’t have to.

  In fact, I hadn’t talked to him since my brother had come home from the hospital.

  “Your brother?”

  I smiled. “A little bruised still, but ultimately a lot better. Thank you for asking.”

  Captain Morgan sighed. “I leave in two hours. Better make it in here before that.”

  With that last comment, he disappeared into his office and shut the door, leaving the three of us standing there looking at each other.

  “Well, I’m out,” the redhead offered. “Have a good one. See you tomorrow.”

  Justice grumbled something under his breath and the redhead laughed.

  “Go fuck yourself, Lock,” Justice growled.

  The redhead, Lock, grinned wickedly. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  I didn’t say a word to him, making him smile all the wider.

  “I like her.”

  With that parting comment, he hauled ass toward the exit.

  “In a hurry?” I asked as we watched the man practically run.

  “It’s supposed to storm later,” he said. “I’m sure he just wants to get home before the bottom opens out and he’s caught on the back of his bike with nowhere to go.”

  “Hmm,” I grunted.

  Then I sighed.

  “Yeah,” he said. “That means we might be getting wet.”

  At least it was summer, I guess.

  “Let’s go,” he urged. “They’re having a team meeting right now, and I might as well discuss this shit while they’re all there to listen.”

  And that was when he led me to a closed conference room door on the right at the very end of the hallway.

  My eyes widened when he pushed inside without knocking.

  They widened even more when I saw the chief of police sitting at the head of the long table, followed by the assistant chief of police.

  The only reason I knew who they were was because I’d seen them around my dad a time or two. We’d met, and my father had played the doting, caring father. The father who pretended that I was a part of his life when I really wasn’t.

  The silence in the conference room was deafening as Justice pulled us inside.

  The moment the door closed, Justice didn’t mince words.

  “I was told to kill her and bring her body to his doorstep in one hour,” he said. “I’m not going to do that, so you’re going to have to do without me. It’s likely that I’m next when I don’t show up.”

  Tellings, the assistant chief, exploded.

  “Jesus Christ, Justice!” Tellings boomed. “It was just a simple fuckin’ buy. How fuckin’ hard can that be for you?” Papers went flying as Tellings stood, and I watched as he pointed at him with anger in his eyes. “Simple. Get in, make the buy, get out. That’s all we asked you to do.”

  Justice didn’t stiffen. Didn’t even look like he was uncomfortable having the man yell at him.

  Instead, he calmly looked at Tellings and said, “I told you it wasn’t that fuckin’ simple.”r />
  “It is, though,” Tellings said. “Really fuckin’ simple. You go up to him wired and buy the shit. We come in, arrest him, and shit on Eleventh Street returns to normal.”

  I couldn’t help it then. I laughed.

  All eyes turned to me.

  “Do you have something to add?” Luke Roberts, the Chief of Police, asked.

  I waved at Tellings. “It’s funny that you think that Marcus Gomez would do any dirty work. He rules the roost. He doesn’t do stuff like sell when he has minions to do it for him.”

  Tellings’ jaw tightened.

  Justice nodded his head. “Which is what I’ve been trying to tell you. Why I’ve been earning his trust on my days off. It’s not something I can do, just go up to him with a wire and get him to talk. He didn’t talk to me for three fuckin’ weeks. Not until I fixed his buddy’s car. I’ve talked to the man all of eight times in month. And one of those times, today, was him telling me to have her body on his doorstep.”

  Luke sighed.

  “He’s not going to let it go,” Luke said. “Even if we get her off of Eleventh Street, he’s still going to come after you.”

  Justice shrugged as if he didn’t give a shit what Marcus did to him.

  And my suspicions were confirmed later when he said, “As long as he stays away from her, I’m fine with that. I can handle myself, and maybe I can still be of use to you.”

  My head whipped around, and my eyes narrowed, but before I could tell him how awful of an idea that was, Tellings interrupted.

  “You’re gonna need to keep your ass out of trouble, too, seeing as she’s going to be staying with you,” Tellings said. “There’s no fuckin’ way in this world that we’re letting her stay at her own place. Not after a threat like that.”

  Justice began to argue, but a coughing fit began again, lasting much longer than the previous one had.

  I spotted a coffee maker in the corner of the room and busied myself getting him something hot to drink.

  When I heard the ‘puff-inhale’ of his inhaler go, and the sudden quiet, I turned to look at him over my shoulder.

  The chief and assistant chief were looking at him like he was about to keel over right there in front of them.

  I turned with a half-filled cup of coffee and waited until he’d taken his second puff before holding out the coffee. He didn’t take it until long moments later.