Mountain Misfits MC: Complete Box Set

by Deja Voss

  “That’s alright, Gene,” he says, and my heart sinks into my stomach. “I need to get out for a little anyway. Stretch the old legs. I’ll take it from here.”

  “Really,” Gene says, “it’s fine. I don’t mind at all.”

  It makes me really uncomfortable, standing here while these two argue over who is going to show me my patrol route. Not only is it unprofessional, but it makes me feel like there’s more going on here than just an eagerness to welcome me to the squad. I just stand there with my hands in my pockets, pretending like I’m really fascinated by the watercolor painting of the American Flag on the wall.

  What the hell am I getting myself into?

  “Come on, Helena,” Chief Sanderson says, groaning as he pushes himself up from behind the desk. By the time he walks across the room, he’s already winded, and I’m personally thankful that between my pistol skills and my protection from the motorcycle club, that I’ll never have to call on him in case of an emergency. “You’re gonna have to drive, though. Put a little too much Irish in my coffee this morning if you know what I’m saying.”

  I raise my eyebrows so high I think they’re going to try and climb off my face. I realize this is a small town where nothing really ever happens, but damn. This is completely unprecedented. I can tell by Gene’s glare of disgust that he’s on the same page as I am.

  This could be awesome, or this could be a curse, depending on what kind of drunk he is. Knowing that he has such a weakness is a major plus, though. Maybe I could get him talking easier than I expected.

  I get behind the wheel of the cop car for the first time in over a month, and feel completely mixed emotions. When I became a police officer, I had such high hopes and so much respect for the badge. The first time I drove a cruiser, I felt like I was going to save the world. Now, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the streets of my little hometown, I just feel like a phony. My passion for the force has been diluted by years of bad experiences and shitty coworkers. I have a feeling it’s not going to be any different here.

  Eyes on the prize, I remind myself. I don’t have to save the whole world. I just have to do right by the people I care about.

  “You remember my daughter, Gina? From high school?” he asks as we drive down Main Street. “You guys were about the same age.”

  Gina Sanderson… I don’t think anyone we went to school with could forget that girl. She was a troublemaker, that’s for sure, and wasn’t afraid to tell everyone who her daddy was. I remember my senior year, she caught the bathroom garbage can on fire when she didn’t put her cigarette out all the way.

  I think she got detention for a day.

  “How is Gina?” I ask.

  “She’s doing better now,” he says. “She went through a little rough patch there. You know how it is. Got herself tangled up with a bad crowd. She found Jesus, though. She’s going back to school to be a nurse.”

  Oh boy, I think. Usually, around here, “she found Jesus” means “she fucked up big time and needs a really good excuse to justify whatever the hell she did.”

  “That’s great,” I say. “I’ll have to look her up. Maybe we can hang out sometime.” I am definitely not looking her up, but there’s no reason why I need to tell him that. I need to stay on his nice side if I want to make any progress here.

  “Turn here,” he says, motioning to the parking lot of the local truck stop diner. I do as I’m told, and as he instructs me to drive though the lot, weaving in and out of rows of parked cars, I realize we’re not doing anything productive here, he’s just looking for a closer parking spot. It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes in disgust. When I signed up for this job, I didn’t think it’d be so I could play chauffeur for our drunken police chief, but I suppose being on his good side is better than the alternative.

  “You got a man?” he asks, as we head towards the restaurant. “Girl like you’s too pretty to be single.”

  “Nope,” I say. I mean, maybe I do, but it’s none of his business. I’m not sure what I have. A Brooks? A guy who likes having me around? My own personal sex god? None of that really pertains to my job as a police officer though.

  “Oh,” he says. “You’re not one of them ladies’ ladies are you?”

  Bite your damn tongue, Helena, I think, holding the door open for him. It’s going to be a long day. A long life. All I can do is hope that he keeps running his mouth until something interesting comes out of it.

  ***

  “Well look at you,” Josie whistles as I walk through the front door of the house, still in uniform. “I swear I didn’t smoke the rest of Brooks’s weed I found in his pocket when I was doing the laundry today.”

  “Don’t tell me that shit,” I say, brushing her bangs out of her face and kissing her on the forehead. “How was your day, Jo? And what smells so good in here?”

  “I’m so far ahead in my online classes I can graduate in a month if I keep it up,” she says excitedly. “Look!” She hands me her laptop, and I almost burst into tears. When we first got here, she was dropped out and had big aspirations to become a bartender. Now, things are really starting to look up.

  “I’m so proud of you,” I say. “Are you just sucking up to me because you want your birthday present early?”

  “Brooks already gave me my birthday present early,” she says.

  “It’s not the weed she found in my pocket when she was doing laundry,” he says, shooting her a sideways smirk as he stands in the doorway. He looks so hot in his tight black t-shirt and ripped jeans, the scrapes on his face from yesterday only making him look even more sexy, more rugged. I wish I could think of some excuse to send Josie outside for a couple hours.

  “It’s a puppy!” she squeals, bringing up the website for the local shelter. She clicks on a picture of the weirdest looking little dog I’ve ever seen. He’s got crossed eyes and a big fluffy coat of spotted fur, and his nose is pinched in like a pug’s. “His name is Rocky and we can’t get him til tomorrow cuz they had to fix him.”

  “A puppy?” I ask. That’s like, the ultimate commitment in my mind. That’s saying, hey, I’m going to keep you guys around for at least ten more years. “What’s Mr. Gingerbread going to think?”

  “We’ll make it work,” Brooks says. “He needed a good home. Josie and I went to the shelter today to meet him.” He wraps his arms around my waist and kisses me right there in front of my sister. I’m paralyzed. Flattered, but paralyzed. Josie makes a puking sound, so apparently she’s not too traumatized by this new development. “How was your day?” he asks.

  I stand there slightly awestruck. “Better now,” I giggle. “It wasn’t anything too exciting. I just rode around with the chief all day. He kind of sucks.”

  “You hungry?” he asks. “Dinner’s almost ready. Why don’t you go get changed?”

  “What?” I tease, “You don’t like the uniform?”

  “I love it,” he whispers in my ear. “Let’s save that for dessert.” I have a feeling I’m blushing bright red right now as I stomp off to the bedroom to change my clothes. I feel like I’m in the twilight zone, Josie graduating early, Brooks making dinner and taking her puppy shopping, me back to work on the force. Everything feels weird, but everything feels right. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here with the three of them.

  I throw on some yoga pants and a hoodie, neatly folding my uniform and laying it on the dresser. The thought of playing cops and robbers with Brooks later sounds like a pretty good end to a long day.

  We sit around the kitchen table and Josie goes on and on about Rocky the dog. How he’s really not a puppy, but four years old, and he was so happy when they let him out of the cage that he peed all over the floor.

  “You have unique taste,” I say. “Usually peeing on the floor isn’t something I consider a good trait.”

  “He needs us,” she says sternly, as if my simple statement is sucking the joy out of her new dog. “If we don’t take him, they’re probably going to kill him, you know
.”

  “Oh, babe, I’m sure he’s awesome,” I assure her. “I’m excited to meet him. That was really a great idea, Brooks.” I shovel lasagna in my mouth like it’s the last meal I’m ever going to eat. I can’t help myself. It’s my favorite food, and this particular lasagna is really really good. “Did you make this?” I ask.

  “It’s not my recipe, but yeah. Why?”

  “It’s my favorite,” I say. “And it’s really really good.”

  “He knows,” Josie says, raising her eyebrows. “He knows everything about you.” She breaks out into a wild laugh. “We had a really good talk today when we went downtown to meet Rocky.”

  “Oh did ya?” I ask, smiling at him while I hold my fork to my lips.

  “Well I figure if you guys are going to get married and have babies, he at the very least needs to know your shoe size.”

  If I could disappear under the table right now, I would. I wonder if anyone would notice if I just got up, walked out the back door, and kept walking until I was in China. He and I haven’t even talked about going on a date, let alone the rest of our lives. I hope he doesn’t think I put her up to this.

  I think he can tell my discomfort. I’d be surprised if sweat wasn’t dripping from my palms.

  “I needed to know your shoe size so we could get you some riding boots,” he says. “I want you to come to the Poconos rally with me this weekend. Blow off a little steam. Celebrate your new job. Get out of the house for a few days.”

  “That sounds fun,” I say. As much as I’ve been around the guys, hanging out at the clubhouse here and there, this will be the first time I attend an actual club function. The fact that I’m going as the President of the Misfits’ guest, in whatever capacity that means, makes me feel all sorts of special. He must like me enough if he wants to take me around his friends. “What are you going to do, Josie?”

  “I’m babysitting,” she says.

  “Gavin and Sloan are staying behind,” he says, reading my mind. “Sloan’s gotta work at the hospital.”

  We finish dinner, and Brooks pours me a glass of wine as Josie scurries off to the living room to start getting all the stuff they bought for Rocky today set up. We step outside onto the back porch, a light chill in the summer air, and I barely sit down on the porch swing before his lips are pressed to mine.

  I kiss him back, passionately, the electric spark of whatever it is we have covering my skin in goosebumps.

  “That was nice,” I say when he pulls away. “What’s the special occasion? The lasagna, the rally, the dog? You’re on a roll today.”

  “I don’t want to play games, Helena,” he says, sitting next to me on the swing, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “I want you to know I’m serious. It’s hard for me to say what I’m feeling because I don’t know how to explain it. I guess it’s just easier for me to show you. I want you here with me. I want you. But I want to be the man you deserve.”

  “You are more than that,” I say, taking his big tattooed hand between mine.

  “I want to hear all about your day, though,” he says. “I know you can’t tell me certain shit, but…”

  I cut him off. “I can tell you whatever I want, Brooks. This job is not going to change anything between us. I’m not doing it because I love being a cop so much. You know why I’m doing it. I want answers. I want justice. All I’m getting right now is the delightful experience of driving around our drunk chief of police, though.”

  “Fucking Sanderson, he’s something else,” he says. “He’s probably an even more miserable fuck now that he’s not getting the hush money from the Gingerbread Ranch. Man refused to set foot in the place, but he sure liked the side cash.”

  “I could totally see that,” I laugh.

  “Joke was on him. Remember Gina from high school? She was dancing at the ranch and he didn’t even know it. Probably doing more, too.”

  “I could totally see that, too,” I say with a giggle. The Gina I knew was definitely made for a life of exotic dancing. “He told me she found Jesus, now, though.”

  He just laughs and pulls me tighter to his chest. As much as I love talking to him, I love our silent time the most. Finding someone you can just be still with, comfortable with, not needing to jam conversation in every hollow space, is a luxury I’d never experienced before, and yet, I could sit here with him all night long, saying nothing at all, and still find myself more in love with him at the end of the day. Maybe our feelings aren’t ones that can be expressed in words. The way he’s pulling out all stops to show me that he’s committed to Josie and I, though, that means more than any words could explain.

  “Let’s go to bed,” he suggests, as I start to drift off in his arms. “Come on.”

  We tiptoe through the house, turning out lights and locking doors, and Josie peeks her head out of the bedroom to tell us goodnight.

  “Don’t stay up too late, guys,” she says. “We got a dog who needs picked up first thing in the morning.”

  “What did you say to her?” I laugh, as we walk up the steps, confused by how much of a nonissue it is that overnight him and I are suddenly a thing.

  “I didn’t have to say anything. She gets it.” We chase each other up the steps like a couple of teenagers who have the house to themselves for the night. The bedroom door is barely closed behind us as he begins to peel off my hoodie.

  “I need a shower,” I say, giving him the look. He trips over his pants as he pulls them down to his ankles, chasing me to the bathroom. Standing underneath the pouring water, pinned to the wall as he enters me without a word, just a knowing smile and an appreciative moan, I feel like I’m about to cry, overwhelmed with this joy, this completion, this loving bond that sprung out of fate and nowhere.

  Falling asleep in his arms, wearing nothing but a bedsheet, I resist the urge to speak my mind. I want to hold on to this joy, even if it’s just inside. I think I’m honestly in love for the first time in my life.

  CHAPTER 22

  HELENA

  “Don’t forget,” Josie says as I sip my coffee. “6 p.m., Moe’s, or else.”

  “Or else what?” I laugh, as she drags her finger across her neck in a knife motion. It’s her seventeenth birthday today, and the game plan is to go to Moe’s for their famous chicken wings and onion rings. Trying to keep our relationship on the downlow really limits our options for going out, but that’s the way it has to be right now. I don’t want the guys on the force to know that I’m running around with the motorcycle club, especially because the only reason why I’m on the force is to help the club.

  So Moe’s it is. Separate cars. Taking the long way home. Baseball cap and booth in the back corner. Keeping it low-key. After dinner, we’re having cake and ice cream at the clubhouse, which pretty much guts me that Josie’s first ‘real’ birthday party since she was a kid is being thrown by a bunch of bikers, but I’ve gotta stop trying to repent for the past. Our future is all that I can worry about now, and it’s looking really good.

  Today I’m on parking meter duty, which is about as exciting as it sounds. Living in such a small town, the police officers take on a lot of duties that somewhere with a bigger budget might outsource. I can’t complain, even though writing parking tickets is a great way to make enemies. It doesn’t help that half the meters are broken anyway, about twenty years past their prime. The fact that I don’t really have to talk to anyone at the station is good, though. Less opportunities for me to fuck up and blow my cover.

  When my shift is done, I don’t waste any time getting ready. Skinny jeans, tank top, flip-flops, a swoop of mascara and a baseball cap, and I’m out the door. It’s pushing five-thirty and I don’t want to be late. I’ve missed so many of Josie’s birthdays, and I am tired of letting her down.

  I walk through the parking lot, and a sense of dread washes over me when I notice Gene leaning up against the side of my Jeep. He’s a nice enough guy, but I don’t really have time to chitchat today.

  “Hey,” I say, keeping my
distance. “What’s up?”

  “I need to talk to you. In private,” he says, looking over his shoulder the entire time.

  “Can it wait? It’s my sister’s birthday and I’m already running late for dinner.”

  “I think you’re probably going to want to hear what I have to say,” he says. He pulls something out of his pocket and flashes it at me, and I gulp. “You’re not in trouble.”

  “I’m confused,” I say.

  “I know everything, Helena. I know where you come from, I know who your boyfriend is, and I think I know what you’re up to. We’re on the same team. I promise.” I’m reluctant. I’m confused. I’m pissed. I don’t know what the right thing to do here is. I feel trapped, but I try to keep stoic. I can’t jump to any conclusions until I get all the details. “Meet me at the Belfast. Park in the back. Room 209.”

  “You’re kidding me, right? Why should I trust you? And meet you at some shady ass motel?”

  “You can take a leap and trust me, or we can bring you in for questioning about the events surrounding Nick Desmond’s death if you want? I don’t think I need to tell you about the surveillance we had on his house that day. We are well aware that you were one of the last people who saw him alive.” I don’t feel like he’s trying to be menacing, but I have a really bad feeling about this.

  “I gotta call my sister and tell her I’m going to be late.”

  “That’s fine. Turn your phone off when you’re done. Nobody needs to know what’s going on.”

  I get in my car, and watch as he walks back towards the station, my hands shaking, and my mind going in a million directions. What if he’s just bullshitting? Am I setting myself up for something?

  Even more chilling is the idea that he might not be bullshitting. I slide my sunglasses down over my eyes, take a deep breath and call up Brooks.

  “Hey, babe, I’m going to be late,” I say. “Tell Josie I’m sorry; I’ll be there as soon as I can.”