by Marla Monroe
“I hate taking all of this,” she said, but she obediently swallowed the pill.
“How did you get your knee torn up like that?” Rage asked once she’d finished swallowing the medication.
“Accident.” She shrugged. He wasn’t buying it, but he let it go—for now.
“Let’s get you ready for bed, and we’ll leave you alone,” Terror said, reaching for her T-shirt.
“No! I mean, thanks, but I can take care of myself now. I really appreciate your help, but I’m fine.” She finally looked up at Terror then Rage.
Terror dropped his hands and stood up. “Fine. We’re going to lock up behind us, but with you stuck in bed right now, we can’t set the locks for you so we’re going to leave a brother behind to watch your door until morning.”
“Oh. There’s no need. No one will bother me,” she quickly said. “Really. I’ll be fine.”
His brother didn’t bother arguing with her. They’d leave Scooby to keep an eye on her door anyway. Rage followed Terror out of her bedroom, shutting the door behind them, then stopped in the kitchen. To his brother’s amusement, Rage checked her fridge and cabinets to see if she had enough food for a few days. He found half a gallon of milk, half a loaf of bread, and half a jar of peanut butter. She had a sleeve of crackers and a small cube of cheese along with several bricks of Ramen Noodles.
Fuck!
He couldn’t leave her without anything to eat and a bum leg. Looking over at his brother, it was obvious he was thinking the same thing. Rage just nodded and stomped over to the door. Terror followed him as they locked the door behind them. When he tested the door, the entire thing rattled as if a strong wind would open it.
Once they’d descended the stairs, he walked over to where Scooby still sat on his bike. The prospect straightened up as he approached.
“I need you to stay here until dawn and watch her door. Make sure no one tries to get in. If they do, stop them and call us. Got it?” Rage asked.
“No problem,” the man said.
He knew Scooby was a little uneasy around him and his brother, but he’d do his job. He doubted he was more than twenty-two years old, he but seemed to be a good candidate for voting in soon. Time would tell. Nodding, he squeezed the man’s shoulder and headed back to his bike where Terror had already started his.
As they headed back to the clubhouse, Rage realized that he’d just lost his mind. He was using the club to watch out for a woman he didn’t plan to have any sort of relationship with. He shook his head in disgust. Terror had a lot to answer for getting him tangled up in Mia’s mess. Yeah, blaming Terror worked just fine for him. No way in hell was he entertaining the idea of having anything to do with the cute little waitress. No way.
Chapter Five
Mia woke in stages. Her knee hurt a lot more than it normally did after a long night standing on it. Then she remembered what had happened and groaned. That explained a lot of things—the pain and the erotic dreams she’d had of Terror and Rage in her bed. Dreams that would never have occurred in real life. She wasn’t their types, and they sure as hell weren’t hers.
The next thing that hit her was that she’d slept all night without her locks and chains on the door. Fear washed over her, leaving her sweating and even sicker feeling. She rolled to the edge of the mattress and worked at getting to her feet without passing out from the pain. She needed more Ibuprofen. If she didn’t keep some in her system, the pain would overwhelm her, and the swelling would never go down.
She grabbed her cane from behind the door and hobbled out to the front of the apartment to check that at least the main lock was engaged. Finding that it was gave her some measure of relief. Just as she pulled back the curtain to the window beside the door, Mia heard an engine rev up. Scooby, the prospect from the club, waved then sped off. What had he been doing there?
As she threw all the locks on the door, it hit her. He’d been watching her door all night to be sure no one came in on her. They’d made sure that, since she hadn’t been able to set her locks, she was taken care of. That floored her. She was nothing to them. Why had they done it? It hadn’t been their fault that the bastard had hurt her, just dumb luck that the bouncer didn’t see what was going on in time to stop it.
Mia refused to dwell on it. She chalked it up to one more thing in her life that didn’t make sense. The grumbling in her belly reminded her that she hadn’t had anything to eat since lunch the day before. Normally she would have grabbed a burger on her break around nine, but they’d been too busy for her to take one.
The thought of Ramen Noodles for breakfast really didn’t sound good to her. She rummaged up crackers and peanut butter. It wasn’t great, but it would do until she felt well enough to hit the grocery store. Right then all she wanted to do was run a bath and climb in. She planned to do that after she satisfied the rumble in her belly. She planned to get bananas and maybe some apples if they weren’t too expensive.
When Mia carefully carried the plate of peanut butter and crackers to the chair in the living area, a knock at the door nearly made her drop it all. She cursed and set the plate on the little table next to the chair and hobbled over to the door using her cane. She looked through the peephole and felt her mouth fall open.
What are they doing here?
It took her several tries to deal with all of the locks before she could open the door. Her hands shook as she worried about why they were there. As soon as the door swung open, she knew. They were both carrying plastic bags from the local grocery store.
“Can we come in?” Terror asked when she just stood in the doorway and didn’t invite them inside.
“Yeah, sure.” She backed up, careful to use her cane so she didn’t fall on her ass in front of them.
“Figured you normally did your shopping on your days off, and with your knee fucked up, you wouldn’t be able to get around to that right away.” Terror set his bags on the counter then took the ones Rage was carrying.
“Thanks. Let me know how much the bill is, and I’ll pay you back. Just let me get my wallet.” Mia started to limp toward her bedroom, but Rage stopped her.
“Not yet. You need to eat while we unload these bags.” He scooped her up as if she weighed nothing and deposited her on her chair. “Now eat.”
She couldn’t stop her mouth from opening in shock once more. They were actually putting away groceries and ordering her to eat as if they weren’t bad-ass bikers who wore the 1% patch as proudly as some people wore their wedding bands. She closed her mouth and picked up a peanut butter cracker and took a bite.
What was going on in her world? Was she really awake? She pinched her arm and grimaced. Yep. No doubt she was. With a sigh, Mia concentrated on eating and keeping her eyes off of the two huge, delicious-looking men trying to navigate her tiny kitchenette without stepping on each other. It wasn’t working too well for them from the curses and grunts she could hear. It brought a small smile to her mouth. It wasn’t often she had something as entertaining as the two nearly identical men dancing around in her apartment. She had learned early on in life to take her pleasure where she may. Reasons to smile or be happy came far too infrequently in life these days.
“How many of those crackers have you already eaten?” Terror asked, nearly making her jump out of the chair.
“Hell! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” She drew in a deep breath through her nose and counted what was left on her plate. “I’ve eaten two so far. Why?”
Terror frowned. “There’s only three left. You were just going to eat five of those things? That’s not enough to keep a fucking Chihuahua alive.”
“I don’t eat much. I’ll eat again when I’m hungry. Don’t try and boss me around. I didn’t ask you to come in and give me orders.” She glared up at him.
“How in the hell do you expect to be able to work like you do without eating proper meals? You’re going to make yourself sick.”
She almost laughed at the sight of him standing there with his hands on his hips and
a scowl on his face that only made him look better. The fierce expression didn’t scare her, despite the fact that he was obviously a dangerous man. Anyone who rode with a club like The Howling Death had to be worth a lot more respect than she was feeling at the moment.
“Leave it be, T. We’ve got things to do.” Rage strutted over and set a bowl with cut up apple slices in it on the table next to her plate of peanut butter crackers and slapped his brother on the shoulder.
Terror shrugged it off but turned to follow him.
“Wait. What do I owe you? I need to pay you for the groceries,” she said.
“Nothing. You don’t owe us crap, baby girl. Stay out of trouble.” Rage opened the door and walked outside.
Terror grabbed the door and knocked on the wood next to one of the locks. “Lock these down as soon as you get back up.” Then he closed the door behind him and rattled the knob before stomping off.
Mia just stared at the door in disbelief. What in the hell was their problem? She hadn’t asked for their help at all, so they sure as crap didn’t have the right to boss her around or tell her what to do. She stared at the bowl of apple slices and realized the President of The Howling Death MC had cut them himself. They were too jagged to have come from a package.
* * * *
Terror followed his brother down the stairs to where they’d left their rides and climbed on without looking up at the pretty Mia’s window. He had no doubt she was confused as hell right then. That made two—no, three of them. He could see Rage’s confusion in the way he started his bike and tore out of the parking lot of the rundown apartment building. Well, hell.
They joined up with the rest of the club at the first rest stop outside of town. Hawk climbed off his bike and walked over. Gunner didn’t follow him. Terror was still trying to get a feel of the different members of the club. He didn’t trust anyone outside of his brother, but so far, Hawk, Gunner, and Scooby seemed on the up-and-up. They appeared to care about the club like family, which was how it was supposed to be.
“Pres. We’ve got two guys coming in on Tuesday. Supposed to have been here last week, but they stopped to check in on family since they’d been overseas for the last eighteen months. Both Marines, and both loyal to the club. Gaither grew up with most of us, and JJ promised to come back once he’d secured his sister a place after college. He paid her way when he enlisted and sent all of his paychecks to take care of her. She’s finished college and is married now. He’s ready to ride.” Hawk seemed happy that they were going to be there soon. Terror got the feeling that the two men were old friends of his.
“Sounds good. Any tales of outsiders in the area yet?” Rage asked the other biker.
“Naw. Nothing yet. Word around is that there are some new guys over in Alva, and a few more were seen near Enid. Nothing firm on who they are or what their plans are.”
Terror didn’t like there being so many strangers who had attitude written all over their faces floating around the area. Hawk had assured them that his sources knew the difference between wise guys, posers, and real bikers. That many strangers in the area meant trouble no matter how you looked at it.
“I want our guys in threes and fours at all times. No one rides alone for any reason. We’ll take Scooby with us while we’re checking out the area. I’ll leave it to you to divide the rest up. You know who rides together best. We want to show force without alarming the town folk,” Rage said.
“Got it. Gunner said he’s located ammo for your preferred and should have the first shipment in on Monday, as well.” Hawk nodded in Gunner’s direction as he was talking.
“What about the jumper you were talking about last night?” Terror asked. He could use a little action to help calm the antsy feeling in his bones.
“Stupid fuck knew better than to jump bail but did it anyway. Kidd’s low-key violence, but high-dollar because he’s a frequent flyer with a weapons charge. Asshole doesn’t know which end of the thing actually does the shooting, but it means more green for us.”
Picking up bail jumpers was normally an easy way to earn quick cash for the club. The more dangerous they were, the more money the MC made since bail was usually set based on their crime and how likely they were to skip. This Kidd must never show up for court with a big bail like that on his ass.
“Kidd?” Rage asked with a shake of his head. “Is his name really Kidd?”
“Yep. Joseph Kidd, but everyone calls him Kidd. Not much more sense than a kid, either.” Hawk wiped his brow with the back of his arm.
“Who were you planning to send out after him?” he asked.
“We know where he is. He’s so pussy-whipped he might as well have left a trail of breadcrumbs. I thought I’d let Jinx and Cowboy pick him up. They need more experience, and Kidd won’t give them much trouble. Now his Old Lady? She’s a different story, but they can handle her.” Hawk shook his head.
Terror really wanted to go, but if the guy was low-key, it wasn’t worth his time and wouldn’t help the burning feeling in his bones. He didn’t know what it was, but something was causing it. He never ignored his instincts, and they were screaming that something was off.
“Any chance you can arrange a meet-up with the man you’ve got in the sheriff’s department? I want to make sure he knows me and my brother so there aren’t any accidents or mistaken identities.” Rage narrowed his eyes. “Nothing would piss me off more than to have them get in our way when we’re trying to keep the riffraff out of the area.”
Terror chuckled. That was putting it lightly. He and Rage both hated getting caught up in politics and pissing matches more than anything. Neither one of them could care less who was up for reelection or who got the keys to the fucking city for keeping it free of drugs.
“I’ll set it up. Tonight or tomorrow?” Hawk asked.
“Doesn’t matter. Just make it soon.”
“We’re going to do some riding now to get a better feel of the area,” Terror told the other man. “Scooby! You’re with us.”
He watched as Scooby walked his bike in their direction and flipped his mic on so they could all communicate while they rode. Since he and Rage were new to the area, they needed a better handle on the land surrounding the town in case they needed to be able to lose a tail or set up an ambush. The more they rode around, the more familiar it would all be to them.
“Let’s ride, boys,” Rage yelled over the revving engines.
The three of them pulled out ahead of the rest and turned down the first road leading off the main highway. For the next four hours they rode up one stretch of road and down another one. Some were gravel and some mostly dirt. Others were paved or blacktopped. All of them were potential getaways or hiding spots. They needed to know every last one of them like the back of their hands. He and Rage should feel like they’d always lived there to make sure they could ride on instinct and not get screwed because they took a wrong turn.
Somewhere between the second and the third hour, thoughts of Mia slipped into Terror’s head. He wondered what she was doing and if she was in pain. The idea that something bad had happened to her to cause those old injuries bothered him. More than likely, they were from a car accident or maybe a bad fall. Not knowing for sure really stuck in his craw.
Around the last part of their ride, Terror had an urge to go see her after they had finished mapping out their area. He couldn’t of course. They had business to take care of, but the urge was there.
Neither he nor his brother had been saints when it came to women. They’d shared pretty much all of them since the first girl they’d sandwiched between them at the tender age of fourteen. She’d been a sixteen-year-old beauty who wanted to ride the “Black Irish Brothers” as they were known even back then. They got their first taste of sex and sharing, while she’d found out that she’d bitten off more than she could chew when she finally begged them to let her rest. They hadn’t looked back.
Terror smiled to himself. They’d had a few women alone here and there, but it was never as
satisfying as unraveling a woman’s inner inhibitions and watching her soar so high she saw angels. That sudden widening of their eyes as the pleasure was more than they could believe, much less handle, made him shoot hard enough it hurt sometimes. That high was addicting, and he’d gladly admit to being a junkie.
“Hey, Pres. Look about three o’clock near those trees. Do you see it?” Scooby’s excited voice yanked him back to the ride.
“Fuck. Let’s go.” Rage turned in that direction.
Terror saw the buzzards circling over the trees and the shape of something hanging from one of them. He growled in anger. Someone had taken it on themselves to start trouble. He just prayed it wasn’t someone they knew.
They stopped way short of the body hanging from the tree. Flies swarmed just as the buzzards overhead were. The smell hit them well before they’d reached the trees. The man was dead—that much was obvious. Someone had strung him up by the wrists and taken something like a bat or maybe a crowbar to the man’s knees before cutting his throat. It looked like they’d already beaten him pretty good before they’d gotten to the rest though, because his face was swollen and bruised to the point it was going to be difficult to figure out who he was. That meant the beating had taken place before he bled out.
“What the fuck is this?” Rage snarled, cutting his engine to look around.
“Don’t get off the bike, Scooby. Don’t want to screw up the fucking crime scene,” he told the prospect.
“Call it in, T. Guess we’re gonna meet The Man sooner rather than later,” Rage said with disgust.
Terror pulled out his cell and called the sheriff’s department in town to report a dead body, giving them the location. He assured the dispatcher they’d wait until someone arrived.
“Why would they beat him up then bust his knees before slitting his throat?” Scooby asked. “Doesn’t make much sense. Were they trying to get information out of him?”
