Rebel: (Boneyard Brotherhood MC Romance Book 3)
Page 13
All that was keeping me from doing that now was her uniform. Her belt was digging into my hip, and I reached down to work the buckle free. I had it open before her hand caught my wrist and she forced me to stop.
“We’ve both got work,” she protested. “If I’m later than normal, there’ll be questions.”
I heaved a sigh. “Then I guess we’ll have to take a rain check on this.” I took a second and broke the hold she had on my wrist so that I could bring her hand to the tent I had sprung in the sheets. “But you better believe that I’ll be getting a piece of your ass.”
“Well hurry up and get your day done,” she gave me a light squeeze before she stood. “Now, let’s get the day started, so you can ‘get a piece’ when you get home,” she walked out of my bedroom, so I didn’t have the opportunity to grab at her again.
It was enough to get me out bed. I considered skipping a shower but gave in as a means to take care of the morning wood. I kept it as short as I could, given what I was just taking care of. It was enough to shake off the cobwebs. Knowing what I was going to do today had made it difficult to sleep. When I got out, I found Tara sitting on my bed waiting for me.
“I don’t have all day for you to get beautiful to hang out with your boyfriends,” she sighed at me. “Dry off and get strapped in so I can get to work.”
“You didn’t have to be here for me to be strapped in,” I told her as I took my time to dry off.
I didn’t bother to cover myself, and I could tell just how insistent she was that I get ready to go. I watched as her eyes drifted down me and I felt my cock twitch in interest despite the fact that I just rubbed one out.
“Why the change now?” I tried to bring her attention away from my junk.
Tara only shrugged at me, “When I got in he told me to be here when you suited up for the day. I only hope this means that all this is coming to some sort of an end.”
“If it comes to an end, does that mean this,” I gestured between us. “Comes to an end?”
She looked surprised, her brows drew up, and her face showed that she hadn’t even considered that part.
“I-I don’t know,” she caught a hold of the ponytail that she had tamed her hair back into. “I don’t know how we could make this work, Chase. If we’re too obvious about it, we’ll both get in trouble.”
At least she wasn’t talking about leaving me high and dry. I went to my dresser to pull out some clean boxers.
“You would want to keep this up?” I prodded.
“You said this wasn’t a mistake,” she reminded me. “I thought if we started up on the regular that it would be…” She hesitated like she wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence.
“It would be for keeps,” I finished for her as I stepped into my boxers and pulled them up. “But we both know I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. So, the question I have here is when this is over… I still get to keep you, right?”
She nodded, and after a beat she stood, coming to me. “I’ve worked so hard to get this,” she motioned to her uniform. “I can’t ruin this now because my heart got in the way.”
I leaned down to her, “I won’t be stupid with your heart or your job.” I cupped her shoulders in my hands as I spoke. “I’m not going to be stupid about this.”
“Good,” she leaned into me and wrapped her arms around my middle. “How about you don’t be stupid about any of it?”
“Now you’re just asking too much,” I kissed the top of her head and pulled away so I could finish getting dressed. I opted for a black pair of jeans and a white t shirt after she taped the mic and wire to my chest. “I’ll try to make it back as early as I can,” I shrugged a little. “But I doubt it’ll be before ten. You can crash here if you want.”
“I might do that,” she gave me a slight smirk. “I have a stash of clothes and stuff here. I don’t know if it was presuming too much by doing that.”
“Not too much,” I tucked the recorder into the waistband of my jeans. “I’ll see you tonight, and I’ll definitely be cashing in on that rain check.”
“Remember you owe me,” she reached down and caught hold of the front of my jeans. “I’ll be getting it what I’m owed,” she tugged me closer. “You hear me?”
I snorted, “I hear you.”
“Good,” she reached down to switch on the recorder. “September twenty second, nine thirty-two am,” she took a step back. “Officer Dunn as witness, and you’re going to be late if you keep screwing around.”
“Yea, yea,” I watched her walk out of the bedroom then out of my apartment.
There was some relief to know that she wasn’t ready to call this quits when I got relieved of this job. It was something, considering how things had been in the beginning and it was something to keep me occupied for the rest of my day.
19
Predictably, my day had dragged ass after the start with Tara. I think it had something to do with the anticipation as to what was to come. By the time my shift was over, I was antsy. I didn’t even wait for everyone to leave when we closed up. I cleaned up my shit and got on my bike and blasted to the clubhouse. I walked in while the crowd was still scarce and I felt the frustration immediately. I was headed for the bar when a sharp whistle caught my attention. I looked to see Ricky standing in the doorway to the office.
”The fuck are you doing here so early? Guys don’t make it in until after six. Did you skip out on cleanup duty?”
I shook my head and went to meet him, “I cleaned my shit up. I needed a beer, they’ll catch up.”
“Go get one, bring me one, too,” he rubbed his jaw a little like he was considering something. “How about we go for a ride? Rain’s in the forecast, and it’ll be shit riding through that the next coming days.”
“That sounds great, I gotta do something, or I’m going to drive myself nuts. There anything behind this ride?” I don’t know why I asked, but there it was out.
It earned me a look from Ricky, but he didn’t seem irritated by it. “Nah, man, consider it a pleasure cruise. I mean, what kind of ride would you expect from us?”
I shrugged, “You never know. If we’re going to be riding around let’s skip the beers.”
“Didn’t know you were so straight laced,” he smirked. “Alright, let’s go sober. C’mon I got this new helmet I want to show you,” he waved me into the office, and I followed. Unease was creeping up my neck, and I started to sweat.
There were two full face helmets sat on the desk with what were obviously two Kevlar vests and riding jackets. Ricky picked up one of the helmets and offered it to me.
“I got this today, and I want to try it out. It’s kind of heavy, but it's supposed to increase the chances of survival in the event of a wreck. Mostly, it's going to offer more protection.”
I balanced it in one hand and felt the extra weight of it, testing it like I had any knowledge of what he was talking about. I tapped a knuckle against the outside, and it seemed solid.
“I guess it’ll save you if you crack your head against the asphalt,” I offered. “But it's not going to save your ass if you break the rest of your body.”
“Every little advantage you can find you need to take,” Ricky said as if he hadn’t heard me. “There are very few people that get lucky enough to walk away from an accident that they have on their motorcycle. There’s nothing you can really do if some asshole tries to run you over in their car or truck. But,” he took the helmet from me. “You can try your best to be careful, it's better than riding around without a helmet.” Ricky then went about handing me a vest. He put his own on and motioned for me to do the same. “There’s a stretch of country road that I want to go down. There’s not a lot of traffic to it, and I figure it's a great way to enjoy the view while not having to dodge cars. That cool with you?”
That actually sounded ideal, if I didn’t already know why we were going down that particular stretch of road.
“That sounds perfect,” I tried to sound upbeat.
“I’ve had a lot on my mind lately,” I admitted. “A nice quiet ride would help.”
Ricky smirked at me a little as he finished suiting up. “I heard before you had woman trouble. That was why you went AWOL before. That still the case?”
“I wasn’t AWOL,” I grunted as I slid the riding jacket on. The leather creaked, and it was obvious that it wasn’t worn often. “I worked my schedule at the shop.” I straightened out my arms and shook them out to get a better fit .
“Yeah well, sometimes we like to see your face around here,” he picked up both helmets and started to lead the way of the office. “When you suddenly stop showing up and hanging out we begin to worry. It's a legit worry, too, man,” he paused to look at me. “Do you keep up with the mental health? If not you gotta, you might feel normal but that normal you’re living with may just be the fact that you’ve coped so long you’re used to it.”
“I got a doctor I see every six months,” I admitted because it was true. “I get my head checked. Don’t worry about me.”
“Good,” he offered me a helmet, and we stepped out of the clubhouse just as a few bikes were pulling in.
The roar of the other motorcycles was too loud to try to start any conversation or continue the one I had with Ricky. It didn’t keep us from mounting up on our respective bikes. I watched as Ricky dialed something on his phone before he gave me a nod and put the helmet on.
I followed suit, though I preferred a brain bucket then the full faced one. I was worried about being able to keep an eye on my blind spots, and it seemed like it would hinder it. I grimaced as I pulled it on. It felt heavier on my shoulders than my usual helmet. I pulled up the visor and checked them. Reassured, I looked to Ricky and fired up my bike, ready to follow his lead.
I only hoped that this wouldn’t lead me to biting it.
The ride was down a familiar stretch of highway that we had been down before. The road was still pock marked with potholes, but it was easy to follow Ricky’s careful weaving. It was clear he’d been riding a whole lot longer than I had. I made note that I would have to make more time to ride on less desirable roads.
Bumps aside, I was able to watch the sky as we rode and the colors changed as it darkened. Every worry was wiped away by the sound of the wind and the vibrations of the engine between my legs. The silence was golden, and I found myself wondering why I hadn’t done this before. Wilson had made a demand that we ride in pairs, and I was okay with that, given that on motorcycles there wasn’t much opportunity for chatter.
I ended up getting lost in the drive, and I nearly forgot the reason we were doing this. We looped around, and it felt like we were heading back the way we came. I hadn’t seen any other bikes or even cars for that matter. The road seemed to smooth out, and I saw Ricky wave me forward. I carefully maneuvered to ride beside him. Once we were side by side, he motioned for me to keep my eyes open; like he knew I had been day dreaming or something. I gave an obvious nod and made a point to keep an eye on my mirrors. I forgot we were skirting enemy territory. Everything was going fine, I figured we were either not seen or being ignored either way.
It was a relief to me because I wasn’t looking forward to the possible conflict. A confrontation would make things easier. But who wants to be shot at?
After about thirty minutes, I figured there would be nothing from this. It was a horrible idea to let my guard down. I should’ve known this as a soldier. So, when there was a crack against my helmet, I didn’t think anything of it. As if a rock would bounce up from the ground without warning with nothing in front of me.
Then, there was another crack and my bike started to waiver under me. I eased onto the brake, and I heard a voice shouting at me, but I couldn’t understand what it was saying. I then hit the brake hard, and I felt the back tire jump. It's hard to describe how I managed this to happen, but the bike turned before it hit the ground. A gut reaction was to hang tight to the bike, but it flipped over me and the force that kept the bike moving jerked the handlebars from my hands. I skidded along the asphalt and the helmet cracked against it hard, making my vision swim.
I heard the crash of metal that could only be my bike rolling to a halt. I was too stunned to do anything other than look up at the sky above. I didn’t have a clue about what happened. Did something cause me to wreck?
A headlight caught my attention, and I heard a shriek of tires before I could decipher what was happening. I shifted just enough to see Ricky swinging his motorcycle to a stop in front of me. He didn’t miss a beat and was off his bike and taking cover from behind it. The engine was cut, and I was able to hear bits and pieces over the rush of blood through my ears.
“They opened fire! We need help! I don’t know if Chase was hit but they fucked up his bike and it rolled,” he reached for me, and I could feel a shaky hand probing at my neck. “Thank Christ! He’s still alive. It's not safe, I have no clue where they're at, and I don’t want to them to find us. I’m calling 911.”
I was surprised he didn’t return fire. I know that would be my gut reaction, having been a cop and seen a combat zone. How did Ricky resist it? He scooted closer to me and opened up the visor to my helmet.
“Are you there, man?” He asked with a pained expression.
I blinked but didn’t think I could speak. Shock, that had to be it. I was trying to stay conscious of what I could feel and what I could do. Right then, breathing was a priority, and I was numb to everything else. I didn’t have any idea if anything was broken or if this was something I would be walking away from. I decided that the plan of just breathing seemed to be smart enough. So far, the only bright light I had seen had been a headlight.
I got distracted from my thoughts by Ricky’s desperate tone, “I need help! Someone’s shooting at us, and it caused my friend to wreck his bike!”
I didn’t expect his tone, though it shouldn’t have surprised me. Even though we anticipated an attack, it was still out of nowhere. You can never really plan for someone to do what you want them to do. With the way Ricky had parked his bike, it looked like it would take the brunt of any more bullets should our attackers keep firing.
“Don’t return fire,” I managed. I didn’t turn my head as I spoke. “Don’t shoot back!”
Ricky’s attention immediately focused on to me. “He’s talking!” He called out and slid closer to me and leaned down over me. “Don’t move. You probably hurt something, and you don’t want to aggravate it more. You gotta keep still.”
“Don’t shoot back,” I repeated because it was important.
This had to look like an unprovoked attack. The other group was reckless and would shoot at anyone without asking any questions. If they had fired on us just for driving through their territory, what were they doing to the people that lived in the area?
“Let the cops handle it,” I wheezed.
“Worry about staying with me,” he barked back at me. “Keep still and stay with me, don’t stop fucking talking to me.” He paused to assess the situation before returning to me. “It looks like it saved your head, man. I think you owe me a beer. Just make sure you keep it together so you can buy it for me, okay?”
I laughed a little and immediately regretted it. The pain started to blossom out from there. I groaned as I began to feel everything, the fears of being paralyzed because of this faded away because if I could feel then that I wasn’t completely broken.
“Tell them to hurry the fuck up,” I flexed my hand, I could feel my fingers release and curl back up into my palm. I figured that was a good sign. “If I can move,” I released a breath. “And if they’re not here fucking yesterday, we’re getting up and going to the fucking hospital.”
“They’re o
n their way,” Ricky assured me then seemed to be keeping an eye on who attacked us. “It’s quiet now, like they shot your bike out from under you then high tailed it out. Hopefully, they won’t come by to finish the job.”
I grunted my agreement and focused on breathing. It wasn’t really an effort, but it offered enough distraction that I could ignore my swimming vision.
I eventually saw lights, flashing lights with loud sirens, and I had a moment of relief as we were both swarmed by EMTs and cops. Ricky got pulled away as they loaded me up. I felt like I could relax now, despite all the poking and prodding I was due to receive.
20
“He’s very lucky he didn’t break his neck or fracture his skull,” a voice spoke over the fog that had gripped me. It might’ve been medically induced for all I knew, or I might have passed out at some point. “Three cracked ribs, broken tibia, fibula,” the male voice sighed heavily. “Despite the precautions he took, he still sustained serious injuries.”