THE HUSTLE: GODS OF CHAOS MC (BOOK FOURTEEN)

by Honey Palomino

  Now that I’m a God? Being numb to most things is a coveted tool.

  Don’t get me wrong, though. The Gods? They’re all amazing — Grace and Ryder and the whole lot of them — they’re incredible fucking human beings.

  The work we do is amazing in its own right, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else or doing anything else. I’m honored that they see something in my ass that makes me worthy of being here.

  But sometimes — yeah, man, it’s really fucking hard.

  Seeing all the shit humans put each other through?

  The needless suffering. The fucking pain?

  It’s good not to feel much when you’re staring straight into someone else’s misery. Not only does it serve me well, but it’s beneficial to our clients. In the worst moment of their lives, they don’t want to see the person rescuing them break down.

  They want to see strength. Confidence. They want to be assured they’ve called the right people.

  They want to know you can do the job. Their life's on the line, after all.

  So, I keep my shit together by staying hard. Staying stoic is basically my damned motto.

  But damn it all to hell. Something’s different this time.

  This girl? Pepper? She’s got my heart racing a million miles a minute and I haven’t even said one damn word to her yet. What the hell is up with that?

  I knew she’d be beautiful, especially if she shared DNA with Lucky.

  Lucky’s one of the coolest chicks I’ve ever met. You’d think she’d be arrogant and a diva, but no way, she’s the opposite of that. She’s got confidence, that’s for sure. You don’t become an international rock star like that without believing in yourself. But, at the same time, she’s down to Earth and genuine and that’s what I like the most about her.

  When she visits the clubhouse, she sits around and drinks beer and whiskey with the rest of us, joking and playing with the owls and shooting the shit like she isn’t one of the most famous people in the world.

  Lucky and I aren’t close, don’t get me wrong. She spends most of her time with Ziggy, to tell you the truth, but who can blame him for wanting her all for himself? She’s not at the clubhouse too often. It’s gotta be hard not spending very much time together, but they do their best, I guess.

  Anyway, I’m the quiet one. I hang out in the shadows, for the most part. I like to think of myself as the strong silent type, but while I might be quiet, I’m far from shy or timid. I just don’t talk a lot unless I have something important to say. I keep to myself, unless someone needs me. But you can bet your ass I’ll be there at the drop of a hat when called.

  That’s why I’m here now.

  Slade asked me to tag along, just in case some extra muscle was needed.

  So far, that’s not the case.

  Instead, while I wait, I’ve found myself seated next to Slade on Lucky’s luxurious plane and I’m doing what I do best — sitting and watching.

  Watching Pepper, more specifically.

  In fact, I’m finding it damn hard to keep my eyes off her, if I’m being honest. Which brings me back to my racing heart.

  I’ve seen lots of beautiful women. I’m not some innocent, inexperienced guy. Her beauty shouldn’t be tripping me up this way, but here I am with my fucking palms sweating — she’s that stunning.

  Her black hair is cut short in a little pixie cut, which only serves to show off her gorgeous face — her face is all sharp angles and points — her cheekbones, her jaw bone, her nose and her sharp, bright eyes that scream intelligence and awareness. But despite her angles, she’s curvy in all the right places.

  She’s tiny and fit, like a little ball of energy that can’t stay still. She fidgets in her seat and her eyes dart around constantly.

  She’s intimidating, in a way. She seems a little hard, a little closed off, but she’s going through some shit. Sometimes when we do a pickup like this, our clients are weepy and scared.

  Not Pepper.

  Her chin is jutted out like she’d cut you with it if you got too close to her. Her shoulders are thrown back like a dare. And she looks at all of us with suspicious eyes, like she’s trying to see right through us.

  She seems very unsure of us, to be honest.

  Why should she trust us, though? She doesn’t know us.

  She keeps throwing grateful smiles Lucky’s way, though, and I can see a glimpse of the softness she’s hiding behind that puffed out chest. And with each smile, her eyes light up and it’s that light that’s sending little lightning strikes to my heart, cracking it open a little each time.

  It’s too much. It’s uncomfortable. I don’t know what the hell to do with it, so I force myself to look away and look out the window, concentrating on the blue sky. I still can’t stop thinking about her, though.

  I wonder what her story is.

  I know a little already, from what Lucky told us on the way down to get her. Her mom died in childbirth, her dad died when she was a teen, and she’s been on her own ever since. Apparently, she’s gotten herself mixed up in the death of Tulsa Paige somehow and needed our help.

  I can’t help thinking that if a girl like her, with that kind of confidence, has gotten herself in that deep, then it must be deep trouble, indeed.

  She looks like she could handle anything life throws at her.

  I sneak another glance at her and I’m surprised to see her eyes have landed on me. We make contact for a quick instant before she looks away and my heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest.

  Silently, I admonish myself and vow to get my shit together.

  I’m a professional. I need to keep things that way. Getting flustered because a beautiful client looks my way is not a good thing.

  Slade, fidgeting next to me, and never one to miss a damned thing, gives me a curious side glance, but I ignore him. He’s not having it, though. He leans over and whispers to me.

  “Careful, bro, pretty girls like that will grab your heart and not let go. I should know.”

  I shake my head and look at him like he’s crazy.

  But I know I’m probably the crazy one, because for some damn reason, I can’t stop thinking about what Pepper’s lips will taste like.

  Chapter 11

  PEPPER

  If there’s one thing Pop taught me is the single most important key to surviving in life, it’s to be aware of your surroundings, at all times. I’m almost obsessive about it. I notice every detail. Every person. Every move.

  So the guy sitting next to Slade that keeps sneaking looks at me, Storm, is not lost on me. Now that I don’t have to crank my head back to get a good look at him, I can see how devastatingly handsome he truly is.

  There’s guys like him all over Hollywood. A dime a dozen, really.

  But they’re like cute little puppies, who know exactly how adorable they are. They feed on your fawning and become little people pleasers. They smile on cue and strut their stuff, knowing the more beauty they give you to look at, the longer you’ll look.

  It’s the fucking Hollywood hustle.

  But not this guy.

  He’s not showing off for anyone.

  In fact, he seems to go out of his way to try to be invisible. He hasn’t uttered one word since he arrived and that only adds to his mystery. His seatmate, Slade, talks a mile a fucking minute. Slade’s friendliness would be almost off-putting if he didn’t keep flashing that charming smile. I spot the wedding ring on his finger and smile to myself, knowing it must have taken a special woman to wrangle a man like that. You can smell the devilishness pouring off him.

  But Storm…

  Well, I’m intrigued, honestly. His silence makes me curious about him and the way he keeps pretending not to look at me is amusing. The fact that these guys are all so visually interesting, and the idea that many more like them are waiting at our destination, makes me curious about exactly what’s waiting for me at this clubhouse.

  If I wasn’t with Lucky, I might be nervous for my safety around th
ese guys, but she seems completely comfortable with them, and that assuages any fear I have.

  Instead, my nervousness turns to the situation with Artie. I have no idea what I’m going to do, but I do know that if things aren’t cool at the clubhouse, I at least have the cash to split and find somewhere else to hide out for a while.

  Once things cool down, I can jet out of there and land somewhere else until I can unload the jewels.

  I’ve never been to Oregon and once we fly over the border, I see Crater Lake out the window and gasp at its beauty. The color alone is enough to take your breath away, but the enormous, clear blue lake, surrounded by towering evergreens, with a tiny little island in the middle of it, is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. The beauty brings tears to my eyes and I’m sad as we fly past it.

  From then on, it’s trees everywhere. In fact, spotting any open land at all is almost a struggle as we finish our trip up to Portland.

  “We’ll have an hour’s drive from Portland, but it’ll go fast. I have another limo waiting for us,” Lucky says. I’m in awe of her. She’s so self-assured and unflappable and I admire that about her. Of course, she doesn’t have one of the most powerful moguls in Hollywood, and the LAPD, hot on her tail — so why shouldn’t she be?

  I try to relax.

  To trust.

  But none of that has ever come easy to me and my brain just won’t stop spinning, no matter what I try to do. Eventually, I just sit with it, knowing I have no choice but to live with the anxiety.

  A few hours later, our limo turns off the winding road we’ve been driving on and the tires crunch under a long, gravel driveway. A mile in, we’re met with a big iron gate. Slade punches in a few buttons and the gate opens and the limo drives through.

  “Home sweet home,” he says, smiling at me.

  “You live here?”

  “Most of us do,” he nodded. “I live here part-time. Mostly I live with my lady and kid in Portland.”

  “Where do you live, Lucky?” I asked.

  “Anywhere with a soft bed,” she laughs. “I’m on tour most of the time. You caught me at a good time, though. I’m on a break. One more week before I head out again.”

  “Oh,” I nodded in understanding. So, I had a week. A week to figure my shit out. Maybe if I left the country, I’d be safe. I’ve always wanted to go to Amsterdam. Maybe Italy…

  After another few miles of traveling down a gravel road tightly framed by towering pine trees, we finally enter a clearing and a group of log cabins come into view.

  It’s beautiful and rustic, but well-cared for. My eyes rake over a group of motorcycles lined up in front of one of them. Lining the steps are huge pots of maroon and yellow chrysanthemums, with pumpkins snuggled up against them and the screen door is propped open, the sounds of The Boss’ voice pouring out of the cabin. A porch swing hangs on the edge near the window, with more flowers near them, a small sconce pouring dim yellow light over the yard.

  It’s a far cry from what I imagined.

  It’s homey and cozy. The evening is drawing near and the sun is sinking in the distance over the trees and as we pour out of the limo, the scents of pine and dirt and rain hitting me all at once.

  My boots crunch on fallen leaves as I walk around stretching my legs, slowly taking it all in. There must be at least a dozen different cabins, with one bigger, nicer one tucked into the trees a few hundred yards away and the others grouped together around the big one the bikes are in front of.

  I walk over to the bikes, looking them over. They’re dusty and caked with mud, though obviously well-loved.

  “Do you know how to ride?” A voice sounds behind me. I turn and am pleasantly surprised to see Storm. His eyes bore into me and I meet his glance for a second before it’s too hot and I turn away.

  “I do, actually,” I said. “My Pop taught me when I was a kid. It’s been a few years, though.”

  I declined to tell him that the last time I was on a bike, it was one I’d borrowed to make a quick getaway from a job. I’d always liked riding, though. The feel of the wind in your hair, the power between your legs. There was nothing like it.

  I didn’t say any of those things, though.

  And Storm didn’t say anything either but, to be fair, he didn’t have a chance. A group of people came pouring from the door of the cabin, interrupting us.

  “You’re back!” Lucky was hugged by a beautiful blonde woman leading the group and I could see the warmth passing between them.

  “Come meet my cousin,” Lucky said, leading her over to me. “Pepper, this is Grace. She’s the leader of Solid Ground.”

  She was incredibly beautiful. Wholesome and fit, her smile was soft and sincere, lighting up her pretty green eyes when she smiled at me.

  “Pepper, it’s nice to meet you,” she said, pulling me in for a hug, too. “Welcome to the clubhouse.”

  “Thank you for having me,” I said, trying to push away the awkwardness I felt for relying on a stranger’s hospitality.

  “That’s what we’re here for,” she said, smiling warmly. “So, dinner will be ready soon. After we’re done eating, we’ll have time to talk and try to come up with an initial plan for you, Pepper. In the meantime, Lucky, why don’t you show Pepper to her cabin so she can get settled?”

  “Oh, I just need a bed in a corner somewhere, I don’t need an entire cabin to myself,” I protested.

  “We have more than enough room, no worries,” Grace replied, patting my arm reassuringly.

  “Grab your bags and I’ll show you where it is,” Lucky said. “Grace, thank you.”

  “Glad to help,” she said, before heading back into the cabin.

  The others she’d come outside with were more Gods and now they all stood around chatting with each other, some of them smoking or drinking beers, and all of them wearing their leather vests with pride. They were all so different — and yet something about their demeanor was all the same. It was the confidence oozing off them that was attractive.

  It was just the vibe of the place, I decided, as I followed Lucky down a narrow trail. They were all so cool and casual and yet lacking in any kind of abrasive arrogance that I was so used to finding in people in Hollywood.

  It was refreshing and yet, I had no idea how to relate to them.

  Back home, I was skilled in interacting with those kinds of people. You knew everyone else was hustling as hard as you were, whether they were looking for money or fame, or both — so you learned how to play along with each other.

  If you wanted someone to like you, you asked them about themselves.

  If you needed a favor, you gave them a reason to owe you a favor first.

  And, if you saw something you wanted but you knew you couldn’t get it fairly? Well, you simply took it.

  That’s why I did so well there. My instincts were honed to make the most of every situation.

  This situation? Here in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of people that had nothing they wanted from me? Who just wanted to help me, out of the goodness of their hearts?

  I was like a fish out of water…

  Chapter 12

  STORM

  Dinner at the clubhouse was always a party.

  There wasn’t one big table we all sat at. We scattered all around, some inside, some outside, some on the porch, or the steps. We just piled our food on a plate and found the closest spot to park it and eat.

  The Rolling Stones echoed through the night air, and on this quickly ending September evening, the air held the first chills of Autumn. The trees were beginning to change color and they swayed all around us in the breeze, their leaves tumbling down to the ground in a dance of oranges and yellows and reds.

  I focused on watching them fall, instead of what I really wanted to feast my eyes on.

  I’d literally said one sentence to Pepper earlier. I would have said more, but we were interrupted and she was whisked away. Now, I was sitting on the porch steps and leaning up against the side of the house, trying
once more to not look her way.

  She seemed friendly enough. I planned on talking to her a lot more, but once she and Lucky got back from dropping her things off in her cabin, she’d been swarmed by the other Gods.

  Of course, I’d seen this happen before. They literally couldn’t help themselves.

  Not that anyone would ever be disrespectful, of course. Not at all. But when you put a warm-blooded, healthy man in the vicinity of a woman who looked like Pepper, well — testosterone seemed to take over.

  That was the case tonight as the moon rose overhead and the beer started flowing while we ate dinner and chatted. I watched as God after God took their stab at catching Pepper’s attention. They made sure her drink was filled and she had everything she needed. They flashed their most charming grins and flexed up a bit. They may have been being polite, but I could see right through them.

  They were nice guys, but that didn’t mean they weren’t horny, too.

  And who am I to judge? I’m not. Because, as I said, my own gaze has been glued to her since I first laid eyes on her. I’m a chump, just like the others, I know that. Hell, I’ve memorized every curve of her small frame. I’ve engraved the sight of her smile into the back of my eyelids, so that later, when I’m alone in bed tonight, I can close my eyes and see it again.

  Yep. A total chump.

  I feel foolish, but I’ve never been one to lie to myself. It’s been a hell of a long time since I felt this way, but here it is — full on, in my face, lust.

  However, since I know damned well that I’m not going to do a fucking thing about it, I’m not over there trying to show my ass like the others.

  I’m content to sit here and watch her. For now.

  To be honest, it’s almost as satisfying as what I imagine it might be like to actually touch her.

  She’s that fucking foxy.

  Chapter 13

  PEPPER

  There were so many faces and names to try to remember that it left me spinning.