by Vivian Gray
“Better behave on a weeknight,” he said.
“Yeah, maybe we can do this again sometime... but on a weekend?” Sophie said, and then inwardly chastised herself for being so forward.
“I’d love that,” he replied, causing her to relax and let go of the breath she was holding.
They chatted more about bikes and travel and pretty much anything that popped into their excited, wine-fueled heads for the short ride.
Sophie hopped out of the cab and leaned in to offer Zeke some cash.
“Don’t,” he insisted. “I’ve had a great time.”
“Me too. Thank you. And as soon as I hear anything from Stephan or the wires supplier, I’ll call you.”
“OK. Thanks.” A small grin tugged at one corner of his mouth. “We’ll get this thing solved.”
Chapter Five
Zeke
Zeke responded to the radio call that everything was clear at his end. He stood, clutching his hands behind his back, acting like a human surveillance camera. Nothing could slip under his radar.
His task was the protection of a billionaire mine owner who was in town for a week. As much as he loved his job, Zeke couldn’t wait for the week to end. With fourteen-hour shifts and around the clock surveillance, he had little time to protect his own safety. It was exhausting acting as security for a big shot who was hated by so many in the community for the money he’d made from the natural land, and at the same time, keeping an eye out for any further attempts at his own life by the mystery bomber.
On top of all that, he couldn’t get Sophie out of his mind. It had been a week since their meal. He’d had no time to call her or drop into the shop. Obviously, she’d found no leads in the investigation, as she hadn’t called either. He couldn’t tell which he wanted more – news of the bomb, or just to hear her voice. He shook his head. Pathetic. There was no time in his life for this. One slip up in his job and someone could get killed. After the things he’d seen in the past, he never wanted to let anyone get hurt again.
The final day of his task came, and he breathed a huge sigh of relief to deposit Mr. Billionaire onto his private jet – which had been fully investigated beforehand, of course.
He nodded his approval to several of the team, signaling it was time to stand down and they all made their way to the black company vehicles to return to HQ. It was interesting to see their body language change instantly from robotic, upright, and fully aware to easy, floppy and relieved as they made small talk about their plans for their days off. Zeke kept a stiff lip. He was too focused on the other matters at hand to ease into off-duty mode.
He ran his usual checks over his Kawasaki before riding home, where he collapsed in a tired heap on the bed, still fully clothed. It was eight p.m. He was starving, but so tired he could barely move to cook something.
His phone buzzed in his jeans pocket, causing him to groan and roll on his side. He was too tired to speak to his mom or to accept another job. He was supposed to have five days off. His frown straightened out when he saw Sophie’s number on the screen, and he quickly picked up.
“Hey,” he said, a smile creeping across his lips.
“Hey,” she replied. She sounded shy.
“I’ve been meaning to call, but I’ve been on non-stop bodyguard duty all week,” he said. “I’ve literally just finished. Thank God that asshole’s out of state and off my hands now.” He laughed, hoping to break the tension.
Sophie laughed too. “Who were you protecting?”
“That would be telling.”
“Of course. I can’t compromise your professionalism, Mr. Draper. Anyway, I’ve been up to my neck in engines.” She let out a sigh. “Stephan’s had so many jobs come in this week, I could barely look up. But I’ve got a few days off now.”
“So do I,” Zeke said, his heart fluttering slightly as he considered asking her out again. But before he could, she snuck in there first.
“Stephan just called me and says he has some important news.”
He sat up straight on the bed. “Oh really?”
“Can you meet us tonight?”
“Tonight?” He looked down at his grubby clothes. He was sweaty, worn out and hungry - no fit state to be seeing Sophie. Shit. “Sure. Give me an hour,” he said, forming a quick mental plan to shower, eat and be out the door in that time. “Meet at the Midnight’s Hounds clubhouse?”
“Sure. I could use a beer,” she added.
He leaped up and showered at top speed, adding an extra splash of cologne afterward. He then hesitated. Was it too much? Would he smell of desperation, like he was trying to impress her? He reached for the towel and wiped some off. Better to be understated. Shit. He really liked this girl. He never considered minor details like this so much before. He laughed at how much thought he was putting into getting dressed just for a beer.
Chapter Six
Sophie
Sophie glanced at her watch just as Stephan’s pickup rolled to a stop on the street outside her apartment. She opened the door and bounced up and into the passenger seat.
Stephan looked her up and down with a frown. “Is that what you’re wearing to go for a beer?”
She looked down at the denim shirt dress and ankle boots. “Yes. What’s wrong with it?”
Stephan shook his head. “Nothing. It’s just… I’ve never seen you in a dress. Ever.” He leaned closer and sniffed “And is that perfume I smell?”
“Jeez,” she said, crossing her arms. “I don’t live in greasy coveralls, you know. I am allowed to wear girls’ clothing sometimes!”
He fixed her with a suspicious look for a while before nodding in agreement and then driving off.
They pulled up at the biker’s club and waited in the parking lot until they saw Zeke ride in on his bike. Sophie sat up straight and patted her hair, tucking it behind one ear, then changing her mind and untucking it. She looked over at Stephan in time to see him laugh and shake his head.
“You look fabulous,” he said in a mocking tone.
She shot him a scowl, and they both hopped out and went over to their meeting point at the club door.
Zeke’s eyes were fixed on her. “Hey. Good to see you.”
She smiled and looked at the ground. “Yeah, you too.”
Stephan cleared his throat, and Zeke turned towards him. “Oh, good to see you too,” he added.
Stephan nodded and laughed. “Let’s get that beer. It’s been a long day.”
As the three of them – Zeke, Stephan, and Sophie – walked through the bar area of the FA clubhouse, she was amazed to see people pat Zeke’s back and high-five him as he walked. He strode through the crowd like a king, with people parting ways to allow him, and his two guests through. She’d never seen anything like it.
The building had the feel of a log cabin with leather stools around little wooden tables, a large pool table in the center, a huge flat screen TV showing sports, and several noisy clusters of bikers playing cards at one end of the room.
At the bar, the barkeep placed three beers on the counter.
They found a cozy table in the corner, away from prying eyes and the groans and cries of the latest poker losers, and Stephan proceeded to take out prints of photographs on paper.
Zeke squinted his eyes to read the inscription that had been magnified on a metal filament from the inside of the bomb. He read aloud with a look of disbelief on his face: “4LBX.... my former combat unit.”
He placed the papers down on the table and stroked his hand down his jaw in thought. “It was our logo. In Afghanistan.” He sat upright. Sophie could tell there was more. There was something he was struggling to say.
“Do you still know anyone from that unit?” she asked, leaning forward.
He took a slow sip from his beer, swallowed hard and let out a long slow breath. “I’m the only survivor.”
“Oh.” She shifted in her seat.
“An IED exploded and killed my whole unit. I was inside checking for commands from base camp at th
e time, so I didn’t get the full impact. But I was thrown against the wall by the blast and ended up in a coma. When I woke, months later, back on US soil, they told me the news. Worst day of my life. If I could have swapped with some of those boys, I would have. They were my responsibility.”
There was a pause while the three of them looked down at their beer bottles. Eventually, Sophie spoke.
“That’s awful. I can’t imagine what it must be like for you to remember that.”
He took a deep breath. “I’ve learned how to process it,” he said, offering a smile to diffuse the tragic air. “There isn’t a day when I don’t think about those guys – my friends and colleagues – but I carry on working to try and do them proud.”
“I’m sure they would be,” she said, longing to reach out and place her hand on his, but not wanting to cross the boundary, especially with Stephan by her side.
“If everyone but you was killed,” Stephan said,” then how do we explain the fact this bomb is new? The serial numbers on the cables are from this year. Whoever made this inscribed that unit logo on the bomb.”
Zeke’s face grew pale. He shrugged. “I have no idea. I’ll start making a list of everyone involved in the unit. Maybe there was confusion over the death toll. I’ll have to contact all the families involved.”
He downed the last of his beer with a grimace and Sophie saw him shudder.
“Hey, if you want help contacting them, I’m here.” She turned to Stephan. “I have a few days off don’t I? You can’t do this alone.”
Zeke looked at her, and his hard frown softened as he nodded. “Thanks. That’d be good.”
She caught his eye for a second too long, and a rush of nerves forced her to glance back at her beer bottle. She looked up again, just in time to see him sweep some hair back off his brow. He looked tired, which Sophie thought was kind of cute. Zeke, the club leader, the guy who guarded people’s lives, looking weary was like a knight with a chink in his armor. She grinned.
“What?” Zeke asked her, with a weak smile. “Did I miss something funny?”
Her cheeks burned hot; she knew she must be cherry red. “Um, nothing,” she stammered, laughing. “Just something I remembered. Girls stuff. You two wouldn’t find it funny.”
Relief washed over her. She’d learned early on working in the garage that whenever she to conceal something she simply had to utter the words “girls stuff” and the guys instantly backed off.
Zeke downed the last sip of beer from his bottle and looked over just in time to catch her watching his neck tip upwards, baring the dark shadow of stubble. God, she was awful at hiding her feelings. She vowed to pull herself together. The self-assured look he gave her sent a shiver through her chest. She glanced over at Stephan who raised an eyebrow at her. Damn.
“Another?” Zeke asked, holding up his empty bottle.
“Go on then,” Stephan said with a wry smile. “I can walk home from here.”
“OK,” Sophie agreed, glancing at her watch. She had nothing to go home for, so why not?
Zeke headed for the bar but was intercepted by a brunette in tight jeans and a cropped ACDC T-shirt. Sophie couldn’t tear her eyes from the scene as the women rubbed Zeke’s arm affectionately, throwing her head back in laughter at something he said. They were clearly closer than just casual acquaintances. Either they had a history, or this brunette was determined to create history with him.
“So, the kids are off to camp this summer,” Stephan said as he sat back and placed his hands behind his head with a sigh.
“Oh yeah?” Sophie asked, unable to tear her gaze from the encounter. Zeke had walked over to the bar by now, but the brunette followed. She was talking enthusiastically and stroking her long hair, which was now pulled across to one side as she tilted her head at an angle, baring her tanned neck. Zeke ordered the drinks and occasionally nodded at something she said. Was it just polite nodding, Sophie wondered, or was he loving the attention. Her “player” alarm was ringing, but she hit snooze until further notice. She’d give him the benefit of the doubt. He seemed interested in Sophie; she was sure of it. And they’d definitely been flirting with one another, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t flirt with other women. She had no claim to him. Her heart sunk as she attempted to tune into the monologue Stephan was delivering to her right.
“... so Ruth thinks they’re old enough to be away for three weeks, but I’m not so sure. I’m worried Alana will be open to bullying. She’s so sensitive. It’s so hard being a parent. Give me a rusty old engine any day. At least I know how that works.”
Sophie smiled at him. “I can’t imagine what it must be like. I’d be a terrible mom.”
“No, you wouldn’t. It’d just come naturally. You’re a sweet girl. One day, you’ll be awesome.”
She shrugged. “We’ll see.”
She looked back at Zeke who was now heading back to the table, his hands clasped together to hold the three beers. He shot her a smile, which sent a ripple of excitement through her. The brunette was still at the bar, watching Zeke walk away, a scowl on her face. She caught Sophie’s eye with a sneer, tossed her hair and walked off. Brunette 0 – Sophie 1.
“You could have asked your... friend... to join us,” Sophie said, testing for a reaction.
Zeke choked on a sip of beer. “Her? God no. She’s a stalker. I might get you to have a word with her,” he replied with a wink.
She blushed, remembering how he’d helped with Greg.
“Have I missed something?” Stephan asked, sitting forward.
“No,” they both said defiantly at the same time, before laughing.
“Cheers,” Zeke said, and put his bottle up, and the other two followed suit, clinking bottles with his. “Here’s to making new friends after your attempted murder,” he said with a wry smile.
“Nice sentiment,” Sophie said sarcastically.
Stephan laughed. “You make friends in the strangest of circumstances... and this has to be the strangest one I’ve been in.”
Chapter Seven
Zeke
Staring at the list of names on the sheet of paper on the table before him, Zeke felt sick. As he read each name... Brad, Scottie, Gary... he visualized their faces as he remembered them. He’d had some of the best days of his life with these guys—sunbathing in the hot sun, cooking food on a barbecue, talking about women and hopes and dreams. He’d also had some of his worst times with them too.
Injuries. Shootouts. Seeing dead children by the side of the road in the desert. They bonded like a family through all the good and bad. When he found out they were all wiped out his heart ached like a burning ball of fire about to burst out of his chest. The pain lingered for months.
He dreamt of the blast every night at first. He could remember a huge noise. It was more than a bang, it was like an almighty roar so loud it hurt his ears. His brain still imagined the pain in his ears during his dreams, which made it seem all the more real. The only other thing he remembered was a surge of heat as he was thrown against a wall, several bones in his body cracking at the force.
He’d missed the funerals as he was in a coma, which made the hurt worse. He never got to say goodbye. To pay his respects. To thank them for the ultimate sacrifice – their lives.
It had been two years since the explosion, yet his emotional wounds were still raw. Some days he felt guilty for enjoying life and so took on more work and devoted himself to saving others. It was as if he felt he no longer deserved happiness as these men were stripped of theirs so brutally. Counselors explained, over the course of several months of sessions, he needed to live and enjoy his life. It wasn’t his fault. He shouldn’t take his life for granted. He was given a second chance, and he should use it. He’d began to think that way over the past few months, but seeing the unit’s logo on that wire reminded him of the loss. But he couldn’t let whoever was trying to kill him win. Were they trying to finish the job by striking off the last unit member once and for all? For the sake of his friends
who died, there was no chance he would let them win this battle. He had to fight. He had to find out who was to blame and take them down.
There was a knock on the door.
As he opened it, his breath caught to see Sophie in a crisp, pale blue blouse and skinny jeans. Her golden hair flowed past her shoulders, and as she smiled, he noticed how pink and soft her lips looked.
“Hi,” she said with a smile as sweet as fresh honey. “Here I am, as promised.”
She came in and followed him through to the living area. She hesitated for a moment before turning to him and saying tenderly, “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“Yeah,” he replied, looking her in the eyes with determination. “It has to be done.”
