Motorcycle Master: Bad Boy Angel (Alpha Male Master Series Book 1)

by Maggie Carpenter

  "Shit!"

  Kat at seen the guard's limp body at the same time, and it was Kat's voice that had broken the silence. As they burst into a sprint, Marco pulled his phone from his pocket and called Steve.

  "The guard, he's down. Send backup."

  Reaching the chair Marco bent over to see if the guard was dead or simply passed out, and glancing through the narrow window in the door, Kat saw a tall, older man leaning over Tank with a knife against Tank's neck. Before Marco could stop her, she pushed through the door, then suddenly realized she didn't have her gun. What the hell could she do with no weapon?

  Startled, the man looked up and stared at her. She could see panic in his eyes, and as he dropped his gaze back to Tank's neck, though she heard the door open behind her, she knew she couldn't wait.

  Launching herself in the air she flew over Tank's body, and with all the force she could muster she swing her helmet, crashing it down on the intruder's head. Letting out a blood-curdling scream, the brawny man toppled to the floor, the knife falling from his hand and scattering across the linoleum.

  Marco sprang into action, racing around the bed and jumping on top of him, taking only seconds to grab the attacker's wrists and pull them around his back, but he had no handcuffs. Kat, still on top of Tank's bed, jumped off and moved swiftly to the sleeping guard outside the door. Finding a pair inside the man's jacket pocket, she hurried them back to Marco, and as he locked them in place around the assailant's wrists, they could hear the sound of heavy feet running down the hallway. A moment later a hospital security guard, closely followed by two of Steve's men wearing their DEA jackets, burst into the room.

  "Thanks for your help, buddy, we can take it from here," one of the agents said to Marco as he helped the assassin to his feet. "Who is this guy? Do you know?"

  "He was holding a knife to Tank's throat, and I don't know who he is. Sorry, you probably know the patient as Travis Davis."

  "I'm not saying shit without my lawyer," the man babbled as blood gushed from the side of his head. "You hear me, my lawyer."

  "And you are?" the second agent asked Marco as the attacker was bustled from the room.

  "Let's step outside," Marco replied.

  The agent didn't know he was one of them, but there was no reason he should. Marco had been undercover for two years, and in front of Tank he needed to keep it that way. As Marco managed to herd the agent and the security guard from the room, Kat slipped to Tank's side and began reassuring him. His face was white, and as she took his hand she could feel it trembling.

  "It's okay, big guy, you're safe, it's okay."

  "Damn, how did you do that? You saved my life. Who are you? I know you, don't I?"

  "My name's Kat. I was at the club the night Marco announced everyone had to leave for the rocks."

  Tank was staring at her, his eyes wide, then he slowly nodded his head.

  "Right, now I remember."

  "Who was that guy?" she asked urgently, worried nurses or a doctor would arrive and prevent her from questioning him. "Why did he want to kill you?"

  "His name's Anton. I don't know his last name."

  "What's his beef with you, Tank?"

  "I can't tell you," he muttered, his voice filled with fear. "If I do, I'm a dead man."

  "Seems like you were about to be a dead man anyway."

  "He'll send someone else," Tank quaked. "No-one can stop him. No-one can protect me. He failed this time, but he won't fail again."

  "Who? Anton?"

  "No, his boss, HH. He's a psycho, and if he wants me dead, I'm as good as."

  "Maybe I can help."

  "How? How could you possibly help?"

  "I have friends in the FBI. Do you have any information they could use? Maybe I can get you into witness protection. If you're sure this HH person wants to kill you, it's probably the only chance you have. Is there anything you can offer them?"

  "Witness protection? That's pretty drastic."

  "Okay, well, never mind then. I'm going to see what's happening with Marco, but don't worry, the doctors will probably be here in a minute."

  She was surprised none of the hospital staff had yet turned up, but it was possible Marco was keeping them at bay while she tried to get Tank talking. Confident Tank would crack, she moved around the bed and started for the door.

  "Wait!"

  She paused, then slowly turned around.

  "Yeah, Tank? You need something?"

  "Your friends..."

  "What about my friends?" she asked calmly, walking back to him, praying she'd guessed right and Marco was preventing anyone from coming in. Tank was about to spill the beans.

  "I have information, big time information. You really think I could get into that program?"

  "It will depend on what it is you have to tell them."

  "I know where bodies are buried," he whispered, "I know where the gun is that shot them, and I know who killed them, well, some of them anyway."

  "Wow, Tank, really?"

  "Yeah, I know a lot.

  "Then I'm sure they'll help you," she said with a warm smile, and seeing the look of relief cross his face, she took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Why don't you tell me some of it now, so I can give them something when I call. Then they'll know it's worth their time to come down here."

  "I've already spoken to one of them. A guy called Fallon, Johnny Fallon. He left his card."

  "I know Johnny. He's tough, but he's a man of his word."

  "How do you know him?"

  "Long story," she said with a wink. "So tell me, Tank, where are these bodies you know about?"

  "At the rocks. Did you go there?"

  Of all the places he could have mentioned, the ground Kat saw as sacred was the last place she'd expected.

  "The rocks," she softly repeated. "There are bodies buried at the rocks?"

  "Sure are. I know of three, but there are more. It's where HH puts them. The psycho I told you about. He has parties at his house. Bad things happen there. Really bad things."

  "I'll call Johnny right now," she said, pulling out her phone and touching the screen. "I'm sure he'll come here immediately, especially after I tell him what just happened. Hi, is this Johnny Fallon? Hi, Johnny, this is Kat Baldwin. I'm with a friend of mine at the hospital, someone I believe you've met," she said, acting out the scene for Tank's benefit. "I think you two might be able to help each other."

  As she told Johnny about the attempted assassination, then added what Tank had given her about the bodies at the rocks, Marco, walked back into the room. Kat's suspicions that he'd been keeping people at bay had been correct.

  "Hey, Tank, how are you feeling?"

  "Hey, Brooder, I'm alive, so pretty fuckin' good right now, and it's great to see you. Sure glad you two showed up when you did."

  "What's this Kat just said about dead bodies?"

  "She's got friends in the FBI. Shit, you can't tell anyone, not anyone. HH has eyes and ears everywhere, but it's my only shot."

  "Who was that guy, Tank? What did he want? What's going on?"

  "HH sent him. He asked me about Kratos and his life outside the club, but I don't know anything about that, and that's when he pulled out his knife. He even said he was sorry he had to kill me, like that was supposed to make it okay."

  Tank's voice was starting to crack. He'd faced death, and the reality of what had just happened was hitting him.

  "Okay, big guy," Kat declared, moving back to his bedside. "Agent Fallon will be here shortly, and if you want my advice, tell him everything you know. Don't leave anything out."

  "Thanks. Seems so stupid to say that after what you did for me. I mean, it's not enough. It's just a word, and I owe you my life. Hey, are you two an item? Is that why you're here together?"

  "Yeah, I guess you could say that," Marco replied, "but Tank, listen, you don't have to worry. There are two guards outside your door now. They said that Anton guy drugged the other guard's coffee and it knocked him out. Funny thing,
I was going to have Kat lure that guard away so I could see you. Maybe I should've thought of slipping him a sleeping pill instead."

  "Kratos said you were different," Tank said solemnly. "I can see now he was right. I just thought you were moody."

  "Moody? I guess I am, and I'm not sure I'm cut out to run the club. I think I'll be turning the reins over to Leo. By the way, we had the memorial yesterday. It was taped. I'll get you a copy."

  "I'd like that. Thanks, Brooder, and uh, I should tell you, that chair you're sittin' on..."

  "The one behind the desk?"

  "Yeah. You might wanna get a new one. I'm about to tell the FBI there's a gun in the seat."

  "No shit? What the hell is it doing there?"

  "Long story. I'll save it for the Feds. Just thought you should know."

  "Damn. Thanks. Well, I guess we'll be taking off."

  "Bye, Tank, you take care of yourself," Kat said, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. "Find yourself a nice girl and settle down."

  "There's nothin' I'd like better, and thanks again."

  They left the room and started down the hallway, and when they reached the elevator the doors were opening. To their surprise Johnny stepped out, and wordlessly he stepped up to Kat and hugged her.

  "You okay?"

  "Of course. Piece of cake."

  "The hell it was," Marco remarked.

  "You two have done a heck of a job here this morning. You didn't just prevent the killing of a key witness, you got that key witness to turn States Evidence. Unbelievable."

  "Kat did all of that," Marco declared. "I was just along for the ride, and you'd better get to Tank before he changes his mind."

  "On my way, and I'll see you tonight, and Marco, take care of her."

  "I'm trying, but she doesn't make it easy."

  As Johnny marched away they stepped into the empty elevator, and after the doors had closed, Marco brought his arms around her shoulders and hugged her tightly.

  "Damn, girl, you scared the crap outta me."

  "Sorry."

  "Don't be, you were doing your job, and you were amazing. I just don't know how the hell I'm going to live with you knocking out bad guys all over the place. That's my job description."

  "You can knock the bad guys out any time you want!"

  "I guess I just have to beat you to the punch...literally."

  "What now?"

  "Now you drop me in that alley near my house," he said solemnly, "and go on back to your place, and make sure you're--"

  "I know," she said interrupting him, "make sure I'm not followed."

  "Exactly. I'll see you up there later."

  "It's been a breakthrough morning. I wonder if we'll be as lucky with the raids tonight."

  "We've got the momentum on our side, and I think we're finally going to catch HH, whoever the hell he is."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Marco knew Steve had agents keeping an eye on his house, and he had little doubt HH was probably doing the same. When he'd slipped into his backyard using the shrubbery as cover there wasn't even the suggestion of a soul in sight, but when he'd opened his garage door and roared off on this bike, he'd spotted some suspect vehicles parked on the street, along with a panel van a few doors down, but none of it had fazed him. The lights and stereo in his house were on timers, so it would have appeared he'd been home by himself all night.

  His day was spent fielding calls, spending time in the bar hanging out with the members coming to grips with the loss of their leader, and talking to the various vendors with whom the tavern did business. Kat had texted him to let him know she was focusing on Jason Dean's past, and trying to learn what had happened to Ernie Williams, the young man whose fingerprints were on the gun.

  Questions about Ernie and Tank stayed with Marco throughout the day, and though he kept expecting a phone call from Steve or Johnny with an update following Tank's interrogation, Marco's phone had remained maddeningly quiet. There had to be a connection between the two, but what was it? Was Ernie Williams now working for HH, but even if he was, how had Tank ended up with the gun, and why had Kratos stashed it in the seat of his chair?

  It was late afternoon. Marco was getting ready to ride up to Kat's and turn the management of the tavern over to Leo when his phone jangled. It was Kat. She wasn't texting, which meant it must be important, and hurriedly walking outside he answered her call.

  "You won't believe this," she exclaimed excitedly. "Are you ready?"

  "Hell, yeah. I've been waiting all afternoon for news."

  "Ernie Williams is Jason Dean."

  "WHAT?"

  "Their fingerprints matched."

  "I knew having Jason's prints would come in handy, but I sure as hell wasn't expecting that. When did you hear about this?"

  "Just now. Johnny called. I told him I'd pass it along to you. It was Jason Dean who had that gun in his hands, but it begs the question, why the heck didn't he wear gloves?"

  "And why was it hidden in the chair? I sure hope Tank is singing like a canary."

  "I have news about that too. He's no dummy," Kat remarked. "He refused to say another word until a lawyer drafted up a deal. I guess they're still working it out."

  "Dammit. I hope they at least find out the location of the chamber of horrors inside that mansion before tonight."

  "I hope they're able to learn more than that. They need as much as they can before going into that creepy glass house."

  "I wonder how often Tank visited that place. His relationship with HH is a complete mystery."

  "On another subject, when will you be here?"

  "Shortly. I want to leave while it's still light so I can see if I'm being tailed and lose them if I am. Two of your wolf men are here. They're going to lend a hand."

  "See, now you're calling them that."

  "Okay, I admit it's kinda catchy."

  "There are some agents here. They're downstairs and they know you're coming so they'll let you in, and I'll leave my apartment door unlocked, just let yourself in."

  "There are agents at the house already?"

  "It's not that early. It's already nearing six o'clock and the operation starts around nine. That's only three hours from now."

  "It's six o'clock? How the heck did that happen? I'm on my way, gorgeous girl. Keep that pussy warm for me."

  "Oh, my gosh, the things that come out of your mouth..."

  "Yeah, well, that's one of my many charms."

  Ending the call, Marco moved back into the tavern, and in the men's room he switched jackets and helmets with Frank, the red-headed agent who had watched over Kat the night before. Ambling into the parking lot, Frank climbed on board Marco's bike and rode off. He was heading to a Harley Davidson dealer thirty minutes away. Watching from a side window Marco saw a red sedan pull out from the curb and follow. He waited until Frank and the car had disappeared from sight, then donning Frank's helmet, he walked out into the parking lot, jumped on Frank's bike, and roared off in the opposite direction.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Though feeling weary and slightly achy, Kat had spent the afternoon researching Ernie Williams, and she had just uncovered some information almost as startling as the fact that he was posing as Jason Dean. She couldn't wait to share the news, but she had a tickle in her throat and had fallen victim to an unexpected coughing fit. Deciding to make herself some tea, she placed her laptop on the coffee table and rose to her feet, but suddenly feeling dizzy she fell back on to the couch. A strange prickling sensation was moving through her head, and she sat completely still, waiting for it to pass. It took a minute, and still feeling slightly giddy she slowly stood up and moved unsteadily into the kitchen. She filled the hot water kettle, then leaning against the counter she realized she wasn't feeling well at all. Her joints hurt, a vague dizziness was still lurking, and she could feel the beginnings of a headache.

  "Kat? I'm here?"

  Hearing the welcome sound of Marco's voice she let out a relieved sigh,
and leaving the tea unmade she walked into the living room to greet him. He was placing his jacket and helmet on the chair by the sliders, and looking up, his smile quickly changed into a frown.

  "Hey, what's wrong? You don't look good?"

  "I'm fine," she lied, not wanting him to know she was under the weather.

  Shaking his head, he stepped forward and brought her into his arms.

  "Let's try that again," he said softly. "What's wrong, and this time I want the truth."

  "I, uh, feel a bit funny, but it's nothing."

  Pushing her back, he brought a hand under her chin, tilted up her head, and studied her face.

  "It's not nothing. Your eyes are red, and you don't look right."

  As if to underscore his point she unexpectedly began to cough.

  "Looks like my girl is getting sick," he said with a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry sweetie."

  "It's not bad."

  "Get yourself into bed and I'll--"

  "Bed? What? No way," she declared, cutting him off. "We have work tonight. I've been a lot worse than this and jumped into the fray."

  "But you didn't have me to make sure you didn't. You can't be in a dangerous situation if you're sick."

  "Marco, I'll be fine," she protested, turning to move back into the kitchen, "I know that you--" but before she could finish a wave of giddiness sent her reeling, and lunging forward Marco caught her arm just as she was about to keel over.

  "Yeah, sure, fine," he muttered, sweeping her up in his arms and heading into the bedroom. "You're going to bed, young lady, and that's an end to it."

  Laying her down, he quickly peeled off her jeans and shirt, pulled down the bedcovers, and bundled her under them.

  "I'm going to make you some tea. What have you eaten today?"

  "Uh..."

  "I see. Right, I'll be taking care of that, and as much as I like to think of you naked under the blankets, do you have a warm nightie or some pj's?"

  "Second drawer," she muttered pointing to her dresser, then sneezed three times in quick succession. "The pink one."

  "Oh, my poor baby," he murmured. "I'm going to get you some chicken soup and run to a drug store."