Harm's Way: Riot MC Biloxi

by Karen Renee

  She rolled her eyes as she passed him and he grabbed her hand. “You can’t take a leak in front of me, I’d say that’s reason enough to call you prissy.”

  “We haven’t been together that long.”

  “I don’t care. Go.”

  When she came out of the bathroom, he had tugged a black Foo Fighters t-shirt over his head.

  “Did you go to one of their shows?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Long time ago, but yeah.”

  “Lucky,” she said, all petulant.

  “That I am. Cause I got you. Seems you’re a miracle worker after last night. What exactly did you point out to my sister?”

  She smirked and came closer to him. “That Sammy doesn’t follow you blindly like she might have thought he does. And it didn’t hurt that Sandy had filled me in on a fair amount of history, and I reminded Corinna that Sammy joined before you did.”

  “And that’s all it took?”

  She stroked her hand up and down his chest. “She’d come to her own realizations that Sammy wasn’t meant for her. I was in the right place at the right time, I guess.”

  He grabbed her hand. “If you were at a hundred percent, you’d damn sure be in the right place at the right time now, but you can’t turn me on first thing in the morning when I can’t fuck you.”

  She smirked. “I recall you getting me off and not getting off yourself. No reason that can’t be reversed. I can go down on you, honey—”

  “No. Not that I don’t like the idea, but you aren’t doin’ that on your knees and I don’t want you laying on your stomach until you see Doc again. You do that soon, right?”

  “Um, next week. The nurse texted me with the details.”

  “Right. I’ll be fine in the interim. You want me to bring you some breakfast?”

  Her eyes softened. “I can wait for Suzy to get here. Maybe I’ll have her bring me an Egg McMuffin.”

  He dipped his chin. “Can send a prospect instead, Steph.”

  Her lips twisted, after a moment she said, “Okay, fine. But I hate making someone go out of their way.”

  He laughed. “That’s a fuckin’ cake walk compared to what the rest of us make them do. So forget about it.”

  A knock on the door interrupted them.

  “Yeah,” he called out.

  Brute poked his head inside. “Everyone’s here, man. You ready?”

  He lifted his chin and Brute closed the door.

  Stephanie backed up a step. “What’s going on?”

  He shook his head. “Church, honey. No worries, right?”

  She took in a deep breath.

  “Right,” she said, reluctantly.

  “I’ll have Sandy bring your food when the prospect comes back. Don’t shower on your own. Wait for your sister.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Okay, Mr. Bossy.”

  He gave her a look. “Next time you roll your eyes at me, you’re gonna pay for it.”

  Her smirk returned. “Will I though? Pretty sure you’ll pay just as much since I haven’t seen the doctor yet.”

  That forced a smile from him, and he lightly swatted the side of her upper thigh. “Just you wait, Combes. Now, kiss me.”

  WALKING INTO CHURCH, he felt the somber mood like a punch to his gut. Two of their brothers were dead, and it had finally sunk in for all of them.

  “I know this shit’s hard, brothers. But, we have to live in the now. And right now, we gotta figure out how we’re gonna bring more money into the chapter.”

  Gamble lifted his hand to speak and Har nodded. “I was thinking, Prez, when things went sideways, it was Block’s security set-up that saved our ass. What if we went into security? I know mainstream alarm companies offer cameras with their home monitoring and shit, but there are people out there who don’t trust big corporations. And some of those people might get off, so to speak, on having a motorcycle club doing their security.”

  “That’s decent thinking, but you’re right. The larger outfits can offer prices we couldn’t compete with.”

  Gamble shook his head. “Yeah, but that’s the kicker. Wreck came in and destroyed Block’s hardware and rerouted shit or whatever he did, but we were still able to get around his sabotage.”

  Block nodded. “You’re right, but that was more because of the IT firm in Jacksonville. Not so much because of me.”

  Even though Gamble’s suggestion wasn’t likely to fly for them, it spurred others to throw out their own ideas. By the end of church ninety minutes later, there were four decent prospects for businesses to generate revenue streams for the chapter.

  Har and Cynic walked toward the common room.

  Cynic muttered, “Cryin’ shame we can’t take over an existing strip club like the Jacksonville brothers did. Nobody would bellyache about working there.”

  “Ever occur to you, that might be the reason not to do that? Everybody’s so eager to see the free show they’d lose sight of the actual business.”

  Cynic sighed while shooting a finger gun at him. “That’s why you’re in charge, man. Later.”

  Har stopped in the middle of the common room while Cynic walked out the back door. Not a moment after the back door closed, the front door opened and Layla’s sister Callie walked inside.

  “Just the motherfucker I’m looking for.”

  Chapter 30

  Eavesdropping

  Har

  CALLIE GAUTHIER EXUDED a coldness most women couldn’t pull off. Then again, losing a sister would do that to anyone.

  “Callie—”

  She stalked forward and pointed her finger at him. “You’re protecting that asshole! Wreck used me and my sister and now he won’t answer his phone.”

  He knew her anger stemmed from frustration and helplessness, which gave him the urge to hug her, but he wouldn’t do that. As much as he wanted to tell her they’d taken Wreck out, he couldn’t do that either.

  Instead, he guided her to the bar. “I am not protecting Wreck. He killed a woman, and as far as I know he had no reason for it. That shit doesn’t fly. On top of that, he stole from the club and he needs to repay that. Believe me, I want to get my hands on him almost as bad as you do.”

  She gave him a hard look. “The cop said you don’t give a shit.”

  He fought smiling. “Probably said that to drive you here. You’re in my face, showing disrespect, and he expects that’ll make me react.”

  She opened her mouth, but he spoke first. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t know where Wreck is, and to be honest, if I did, I’d probably kill the fucker myself.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “That’s bullshit. You’d try to get your damn money back first.”

  “Detective Dennizen didn’t talk to you yesterday? To tell you about the fire?”

  Her confused look was answer enough.

  “Yeah. Wreck and Massive bought a cookhouse together. Used cash they earned by selling the club’s weed, but claimed the weed was taken. Anyway, I’ll never see the money, and shit like that can’t stand. Add to that him killin’ your sister, who was a good woman—”

  “Don’t talk about my sister. I know you didn’t think much of her, even she said as much.”

  “She didn’t deserve to die.”

  “You actually believe that, then do the right thing. Turn that fucker into the cops, so he pays. I got a feeling he did something to Diana, too. I haven’t seen her in days.”

  “We haven’t either,” he lied.

  She stared at him so long he wondered if she saw through the lie. “I didn’t mean to show disrespect,” she said in a low voice.

  He nodded and after another moment she left. When he turned around, he watched Stephanie creep out from the hallway. “You eavesdropping, Miss Priss?”

  She shrugged a shoulder. “Couldn’t be helped. I was on my way to the kitchen when she yelled about you protecting Wreck. I forgot to ask about him—”

  His eyes narrowed. “Seems you forgot what I told you, too. For your own protection, you know all you’re
gonna know.”

  Her expression went blank. Then she said, “Oh.”

  When he stood toe-to-toe with her, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She snuggled into him while putting her arms around his waist. “Yeah, ‘Oh.’ You like having your sister in town?”

  “Yeah,” she said, but it sounded hesitant.

  “Tell me.”

  She pulled back. “Nothing to tell. It’s just weird being mothered by her now that Mom’s not around. Plus, I feel guilty about her being here, but Turk told me to get over it.”

  “He’s right.”

  She sighed. “I knew you’d say that.”

  His eyes darted to the door when Brute pushed inside. “You need something?”

  “Blood and Major are leaving. Figure you wanted to say goodbye.”

  Stephanie gave him a calculating look. To divert her attention, he leaned down and kissed her. “Get what you need from the kitchen. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

  He checked the time on his phone as he walked out to Major’s Nissan Titan. It was a quarter after noon, which seemed early for them to hit the road. Then again, they had planned to leave last night, but were forced to spend the night when Joules and Mensa got Major soused.

  When he drew even with the brothers gathered around Blood and Major, the others quickly said their goodbyes and wandered away.

  Blood stubbed out a cigarette on the ground and blew the stream of smoke away from Har. “Gotta say, seems better when you visit us. Didn’t get the first crab-leg or crawfish on this visit.”

  “That was the plan for lunch,” he said.

  “Bullshit, Har. I’ve seen how long it takes your men to pull that shit together.”

  He grinned. “You’re right, but aren’t you leavin’ a little early? It’s only four and a half hours to Tally.”

  Major grunted. “Bad enough we didn’t get out of here last night! The longer Wreck sits in the bed of my truck the harder it’s gonna be to deal with the smell, Prez.”

  Har nodded. They’d stored Wreck’s body in a freezer, but things would deteriorate quick in the warm weather.

  “Besides, might be four and a half to Tallahassee, but my in-laws are a little further than that and we need to make the drop before sunset.”

  Har shook hands with Blood. “Thanks for comin’ out, brother.”

  Blood slapped Har’s bicep. “Anytime. Least we can do after everything you did for Roll and Trixie.”

  Har watched the pick-up truck leave.

  Brute strode up to him. “Another reason they needed to leave early, Turk thinks he and Suze are bein’ followed.”

  He speared his brother with his gaze. “You shittin’ me? Why didn’t this come up in church?”

  “Just called me while you were dealing with Callie. Anyway, they left the hotel to get lunch and if he sees the same vehicle, he’ll text me.”

  He shook his head. “Bet it’s Dennizen. Too damn many bodies in this shit. Fuck.”

  “Yeah,” Brute sighed. “You won’t like this, but I think Stephanie needs to stay somewhere else.”

  “I don’t like that. Why the fuck would you suggest that?”

  Brute hesitated. “He finds out who she is, he’s gonna nose around. And you said she reported that shit that happened to her back in Jacksonville. All of a sudden she’s with you, and living with you to boot. I don’t know. Just trying to control what we can, man.”

  He shook his head. “No. I’m not hiding her. He comes around, I’ll tell him the truth. Hooked up with her after finding out she’s back in town to stay. Hell, Jenkins can attest to that.”

  Brute’s brows furrowed. “He can?”

  Har laughed. “Yeah. Told me the worst way to get a woman’s attention was by taking all her chips. I said I didn’t want her attention, but he called me on my bullshit. Also when he said she signed over her paycheck, but that’s old news.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  He shrugged. “First, we gotta hear from Turk that he’s being tailed.”

  Stephanie

  IN THE KITCHEN, THE only caffeine-free soda I could find was a lemon-lime soda. My stomach was tied up in knots, and my only suspect was the antibiotics. As I stood debating whether to toast some bread, Har came up behind me.

  “What do you need, Miss Priss?”

  I wheezed with laughter. “I need you to stop calling me that, Harmful.”

  “That is not my name to you. Just Har works, Harm if you have to. Are you hungry?”

  “Yes, but my stomach is out of whack, so I don’t know what to eat. You know if there are some saltines around?”

  He opened a cabinet off to the right, then handed me a sleeve.

  “Thanks,” I whispered.

  With one hand he grabbed my soda and the other grabbed my free hand to guide me back to his room. He closed and locked his door while I settled on the side of his bed and popped a cracker into my mouth.

  I felt the bed jostle while he took off his boots. Then I saw him hang his cut on a hanger on the wall. He climbed onto the bed. Once he positioned himself with his back to the wall, he spread his legs, caught my gaze, and looked meaningfully at the gap where I should sit.

  Rather than engage in conversation he clearly didn’t want, I put the crackers on the nightstand and positioned myself so my back was to his chest. He wrapped his warm, strong arms around me just under my breasts so he didn’t hit my stitches, which were lower on my abdomen.

  “I hate to tell you this, but you might not see Suzy again today.”

  I hid my reaction, but I didn’t like the sound of that. “Why?”

  “Nothing bad. Just precautionary, but you’ll say goodbye before she leaves.”

  With serious control, I exhaled quiet and slow. “Then why can’t she come back? No. If she can’t come back here, that’s fine, but why can’t I go to her?”

  He sighed. “Turk thinks someone is following them.”

  “What?”

  I felt him shaking his head. “We don’t know for sure, but I don’t ignore gut reactions. If he’s being followed, then they aren’t coming back and you’ll get to visit them at the casino or at Brute’s apartment. My guess, Turk wants to make tracks back to Jacksonville even though your sister doesn’t have to be back until Sunday.”

  “That sucks,” I blurted, then shook my head. “Sorry, that slipped. But who could possibly be following them?”

  “The detective who’s investigating Layla’s murder, and he’s probably playing a role in the investigation of a meth cookhouse that caught on fire recently.”

  I leaned back and tilted my head so I could look at him. “My second location, I presume.”

  He failed to keep his side-eye bland. “Didn’t say that.”

  I grinned. “You didn’t, but you didn’t have to.”

  He bent to put his lips on my neck. “Have I mentioned you have the sexiest neck.”

  A curl of warmth spread through my torso. “No, but you didn’t have to,” I murmured on a chuckle.

  He pulled away. “I’d love to hang with you all afternoon, but I got to get into my shop. You rest up, and tonight we can meet Turk and Susan somewhere for dinner.”

  “Can I come with you to your shop?”

  “Baby, I love that you’re interested, but you were stabbed two days ago.”

  “So, what? Sitting around watching you beats laying around here watching mindless television.”

  He groaned. “Brute was right. My sanity is up for questioning because you’ve got me wrapped around your damn finger. Get some shoes on, Steph.”

  HAR’S SHOP WAS CENTRALLY located on Division Street. He had three bikes in the midst of being primed or repainted. His office was small, and narrow to the point I felt trapped. However, his desk chair was soft and comfortable. From his desk, a window looked out to the garage bays. I sat watching him while he tinkered with a bike.

  After a few minutes I found myself looking at his messy desk. My curiosity got the better of me, and I read some o
f his messages. If I understood his notes, he’d referred three people to other shops because he was booked solid. One of the notes indicated the customer called back and was willing to wait for an opening with Har.

  Sticking out from the edge of his pile, I noticed a to-do list. At the top of his list was revamp website followed by other administrative tasks.

  I left his desk and joined him in the garage. “How many customers do you turn away each week?”

  He looked up at me. “How do you know—”

  “Your messages have notes where you referred people away.”

  “Nosy as usual.”

  “Not entirely nosy, more curiosity. If you’re turning away business, you should hire someone.”

  He straightened from the bike. “The amount of business I turn away won’t cover someone else’s wages.”

  I shook my head. “Even if that person were part-time?”

  His head wobbled. “Maybe, but it’s hard to find reliable part-time help.”

  “If you offered it up as an apprenticeship or something like that, it might change the types of candidates you get.”

  He crossed his arms and gave me an assessing look. “That’s a good idea, but what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “You sketch and you got talent. Not that hard to learn to paint.”

  “I wouldn’t want to do that, and us working together on top of living together... that might go bad quick.”

  “Maybe, but you should think about it.”

  “You mind if I organize your desk?”

  His eyes widened. “Are you kidding? Have at it, babe.”

  By the time he was ready to leave, I had sorted his messages and even called two of the three people he referred to other shops. One of them hadn’t pulled the trigger with the competitor and I added him to Har’s wait-list.

  When I told him this, his expression froze. “Know you think us working together could go bad, but no shit, Stephie—”

  I held up a hand.

  “No, no. This is just a sign you need to hire an assistant at a minimum or a part-time painter who could also run admin shit for you.”