Bounty

by Aubrey St. Clair

  Snake glares at me. Maybe antagonizing my VP isn’t a good idea, but neither is acting soft around this crew. And Snake needs someone to take him down a peg, anyway. Still, hitting my VP can’t go unpunished, either.

  Ripper is still standing by the table, holding the cue he’d used against Snake. He’s smiling, probably thinking that what I said to Snake meant he was going to get off easy. Wrong.

  Without warning, I grab the stick right above Ripper’s hand and push it forward, the end of it slamming into the big man’s head. He lets go immediately to rub his injured forehead, but that was just a light tap. Twisting my wrist, I bring the bottom, thicker end of the cue up and swing it around, cracking him on the side of the head this time. Only after he drops to his knees do I return the cue back to the wall. I don’t need to say anything beyond that. If Ripper doesn’t take that as a warning, he’s going to get a lot worse. But that should keep things from escalating further between him and Snake. For now, anyway. He’s been punished in front of the club, no further retaliation is needed. But Snake will be pissed that I took that pleasure away from him.

  It’s only when the bar erupts with music and chatter that I even notice it had gone silent in those few seconds while I dealt with the problem. I take a quick glance around as Jez offers me the joint again. Most of the room has returned to their own conversations, but the blonde at the bar is working overtime at trying to look uninterested. Her head is tilted at just the right angle so as to watch us out of the corner of her eye. Even when her friend says something, she just tilts her head instead of turning.

  Jez shakes the joint at me again to get my attention, but I brush it away with a shake of my head. She hates to be ignored, though, and now I feel her pressing her tits against my arm again. Having to crack Ripper in the head has put me in a foul mood, and instead of looking to mellow it out, I’d rather add fuel to the fire, which means having a drink instead of a smoke.

  Sometimes pushing back my irritation for too long just means it’ll come out when I don’t want it to instead of when I do, and that’s dangerous. I’m better off letting off steam when I can, and the thrashing I just gave to Ripper probably bought me at least the night off of having to babysit the rest of the crew. They’ll stay in line now. At least until tomorrow.

  Of course, I can’t stop myself from making sure that I approach the bar right next to the blonde that clearly thinks that it’s up to her to keep an eye on us. As if she’s the last line of defense in case the crew and I decide we want to rob the place, or something.

  She finally turns her head away as I approach, immediately becoming intensely focused on her friend. Unfortunately for Blondie, her friend’s more interested in talking to the bartender now. Guess Blondie shouldn’t have spent so much time ignoring her.

  “Enjoy the show?” I know she knows I’m standing next to her, even though she’s looking the other way now, but she still turns and acts confused. Her eyes are a pale shade of green that go well with the blouse she’s wearing.

  “Excuse me?” I’ll give her one thing—she has a pretty good poker face. She just sucks at spying.

  “Over at the pool table. You were watching us pretty intently. Guys in leather turn you on, or just violence?”

  There it is—a crack as her face reddens a bit—but she maintains more control than I expected.

  “I just…”

  I don’t wait for her to come up with something and regain her composure. Instead, I press on. “I just figure you’re either lost, or looking to add some excitement to what I imagine is a pretty boring life.”

  Her eyes widen, and now they seem more brown than they did a moment ago has her face reddens even further. This time I’m not sure if it’s from anger or embarrassment. But my mood won’t be satisfied if I let her off now. I’m still angry at having to deal with the shit between Snake and Ripper, and taking it out on a Barbie doll that wandered into a biker bar by mistake is probably the safest way to let off steam.

  “Listen, I don’t know who you think you are, but my friend and I are just here to have a drink. I don’t care about you or your friends, and I certainly don’t care if you want to beat each other with pool cues all night long.” Blondie turns back to look for help, but her friend is still busy flirting with Andy, the bartender. That’s probably why he hasn’t come over to serve me yet.

  I can feel a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. It shouldn’t amuse me so much to tease this girl, but she’s so far out of her element it’s funny, and I’m just in that kind of a mood. Sucks for her.

  “You sure seemed to care a minute ago. You couldn’t take your eyes off me.”

  “Are you kidding me? I wasn’t even looking in your direction.”

  I laugh, giving into the smile finally, but it isn’t meant to make her feel good. “That sure is the look you were going for. I’ve never seen someone stare at me so hard, while at the same time, try so hard not to look like they were staring.”

  Her mouth opens but no sound comes out, and for a moment, my eyes are drawn to her lips. They’re full and red, and I’m jealous of whoever it is that gets to kiss them. That thought makes me even more annoyed than I was a moment ago, but hornier as well. I need to get back to Jez. She may not look like this beauty, but she’s also guaranteed to be a lot less complicated.

  “You’re a fucking lunatic, you know that?” Finally, she finds her voice.

  “Are you normally attracted to lunatics?” I counter. “Look, I’ll be honest, you aren’t my type, but if you want to fuck, I have access to a back room that we can use.”

  Blondie is looking around now, almost as if she thinks maybe she’s being pranked or something. She turns back to her friend and this time grabs her arm to get her attention. As soon as she does, Andy notices me.

  “Bash! Sorry, man, what can I get you?”

  “Whiskey, a double. And another of whatever my girlfriend and her friend are drinking, as well.” I point to the women, but Blondie shakes her head vehemently.

  “No, thank you, we can buy our own drinks.” She then turns to Andy. “I’m not his girlfriend.”

  Andy laughs as he puts a glass on the counter and fills it with more than two fingers of the hard stuff.

  “Then spill them out. Andy, whatever they’re drinking.” I turn without waiting to see what Blondie does. The way she was staring at me, though—she’s probably just distracted by my ass now. Or at least, trying to figure out a way to stare at it while looking in the opposite direction. Her type is always the same. She’s attracted like hell to the bad boy, but she’d never admit it to anyone. Least of all herself. She’d be a fun diversion, but I can’t risk getting mixed up with a woman like her. She’d be looking for a relationship, and that’s something I’m not offering. Especially not to someone who is clearly a corporate. Way too risky.

  By the time I reach Jez again, she’s practically throwing herself at me and I let her hand graze my cock.

  “You attracted to blondes all of a sudden?” she says with a harsh laugh as she brushes her own dark and messy hair back away from her face. I’m harder than I should be after just verbally sparring with Blondie, and Jez is probably feeling jealous. Not in a possessive way, but in a way that demands she prove she can jam my dick down her throat better than any blonde bimbo can. And that’s fine by me. A little added sexual motivation is never a bad thing. Especially when I’m feeling so fucking horny.

  I glance back to the bar to see if Blondie is still watching me. I’m curious what she’d think about Jez so openly rubbing my cock through my jeans. She’d probably act horrified, but then run home to roll around with an expensive vibrator for the rest of the night as she imagined being in Jez’s spot.

  It’s disappointing to see that she hasn’t even noticed. Her attention is turned away completely as she stares at a new face in the crowd. I might not know this girl at all, but I know anger, and that’s some undisguised rage she’s got plastered all over that gorgeous face right now.

  It�
��s a man that pushes his way to the bar, and as he comes into view, I’m surprised to see someone even more out of place here than she is.

  What the hell is a guy in a three piece suit doing at Axle’s?

  2

  Evelyn

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “Evelyn, dear, how much time have you been spending in this… place?” Edward wrinkles his nose, his gaze drifting to the pool table where he likely watched those two assholes beating each other moments ago. His lip curls. “It seems to already be affecting your choice of language.”

  Seeing Edward again, even after two weeks of avoiding his calls, still makes my hands and teeth clench. I feel like punching his lights out, but maybe he’s right. Maybe that’s just the atmosphere around here getting to me. Especially after talking to that brute in leather a minute ago. Who the hell does that guy think he is? And what kind of a name is “Bash,” anyway?

  “How did you find me?” I demand, wrenching my thoughts away from that arrogant meathead and back to my present problem. Besides, he’d just love to know I was thinking about him. Which I’m totally not.

  I glare at Edward as he looks around, as if confirming to himself that this place is as bad as it seems. Which it is. I don’t know how I let Jackie talk me into coming here. This is totally her scene, not mine. She initially said that we’d celebrate the first job interview I’ve landed since leaving VI, but that didn’t convince me. It just sounded lame. Besides, I’d rather save my celebrations until after Monday’s interview, if it goes well.

  So then she argued that a change of pace would do me good, and that argument rang true. I’d spent most of the last couple of weeks cooped up in my apartment, desperately sending out résumés and waiting by the phone. So I let myself be swayed, and yet here I am, staring back at the same problem I’m here to forget.

  “You have to admire modern technology,” Edward says, his eyes still roving through the crowd of people with obvious distaste. “Everyone with a phone can be tracked, these days. The wonders of GPS.” Finally his eyes slide back to me. He has a self-satisfied smirk on his face that I just want to slap off.

  Edward is a man of resources, but he always took delight in staying just on the edge of doing anything illegal. It surprises me that he’s admitting to this.

  “You hacked my phone? I should call the police.” Well, not him, of course. But someone he paid. Still, that might still lead back to him.

  “No hacking required, my dear. Don’t forget where you got that phone. You’re lucky I don’t charge you with theft after you failed to return VI property. I’m well within my rights to have my IT department track down our stolen handsets. Lucky for us you never changed any of the default settings.”

  Shit.

  “Fine, take your stupid phone and get out of here.” I reach into my purse and pull it out. It was stupid of me not to remember that this was a work phone. I’ve been using it for both personal and work calls since I got to Chicago, but getting a new one will be a small price to pay for getting Edward out of my life.

  “Meh, you can keep it,” he says dismissively. “You’ll need it when you come back to work, anyway.”

  “Are you joking?” I turn to look at Jackie. I’d forgotten she was sitting beside me. She’s never met Edward, but I don’t suppose she needs a private eye license to figure out who he is from our conversation. “She’s not coming back to work for you, you cheating sack of shit!”

  Since meeting Jackie shortly after moving to Chicago, she’s become one of my closest friends, although that isn’t saying much since I rarely get any time to socialize. Still, her brash attitude and willingness to speak her mind has often been welcome, since the Canadian in me always has the urge to apologize and let myself get stepped on. I’ve been trying to learn to be more assertive by taking notes from her. Right now, I’m very happy she’s next to me.

  Edward’s eyes shift over to my friend as if noticing her for the first time. They flit up and down, taking her in and then dismissing her all within a second as he returns his gaze to me. Edward has a way of sizing people up in an instant and then determining whether they’re worth his valuable time. Apparently, he’s decided that Jackie isn’t. Instead, he answers me as if I had been the one that spoke.

  “The thing with Lindsey is over. It was a momentary lapse of judgment and it won’t happen again. It’s time we moved on and you come back to work. I think two weeks has been more than enough time to punish me. Matters of importance have been falling through the cracks without you around to hold things together. Let’s move past this and get back to the way things were.”

  I stare at Edward, conscious of the fact that my mouth is hanging open, but unable to think clearly enough to remember how to close it. He’s just smiling at me, as if he just explaining away everything and he’s simply waiting for me to admit that I had been the fool to take things so seriously and leave like I did.

  He brushes some imagined piece of fluff from the cuff of his five thousand dollar suit, clearly uncomfortable at waiting for me to respond. I see Jackie open her mouth again from the corner of my eye, so I finally turn to her and give my head a little shake. She backs down, but is clearly bristling with the desire to swear at Edward some more.

  “I’m not coming back, Edward. Take your phone and leave.” There are a lot of other things I want to say to him, but people are starting to stare at us and I don’t want to make a scene. I’m embarrassed enough at the whole situation and how he treated me. I don’t need a bar full of strangers to know my business.

  For some reason, I have an overwhelming urge to look over and see if Bash is watching us. I ignore it, but I bet he’s over there, laughing. Coming here was a mistake.

  “It’s not just at work that I’ve missed you. You know I hate waking up alone.” Edward doesn’t care what people think of him and never has, so to him, it’s irrelevant that Jackie, the bartender, and everyone else in the immediate vicinity is listening to him. Of course, to them, that statement probably sounds sweet, but it’s not. It’s pathetic. Edward hates being alone. He always has. He’s looking for more of a surrogate mother than a girlfriend. Despite his brilliant and ruthless head for business, Edward is completely disorganized. He doesn’t miss me—he misses what I did for him. He misses that I organized his home life as much as his work life. The one smart move I made when I moved in with him was not getting rid of my old apartment right away.

  “Give up, asshole. It’s not happening.” Jackie can’t hold her tongue anymore, but Edward doesn’t even look at her this time. He’s already dismissed her. She might as well not even be there.

  “This is silly,” Edward says. He reaches out and grips my wrist, giving it a little tug. “You’re being unreasonable. Let’s get out of here and discuss this somewhere else. My car is waiting outside.”

  No is not a word that Edward acknowledges. Unless he’s the one saying it.

  “I’m not coming back, Edward,” I repeat a bit louder now. I can hear the rest of the bar starting to quiet down and I don’t dare look around. I have no desire to see all of the eyes that are staring at us. I have no desire to see his eyes, in particular. Bash.

  “You’re making a fool of yourself,” Edward hisses, his grip tightening even further. “You’ve had enough time to pout. I’ve apologized. Let’s move past this and get back to business. I have a few very important meetings coming up and I need your help.”

  “Let her go,” Jackie says, launching up from her stool. As she does, two suited men step forward from the background. At first I think they’re about to help me, but then I recognize them from VI. Of course. Edward would never set foot in a place like this without bring his own security. Their eyes are on Jackie, ready to stop her in case she tries to help me. Edward might have dismissed her, but that’s easier to do when you’re paying someone else to watch your back.

  “I said no.” This time I nearly yell the words, and Edward’s eyes widen in surprise; he’s unfamiliar with the a
ssertive streak I’ve picked up from Jackie over the last few weeks. I use his surprise to yank my arm and pull free from his grasp.

  “I think it’s time you leave.”

  The voice is gruff, hard, and so full of authority that I’m sure everyone in the immediate vicinity has the same urge I do: to stand up and head for the door. Instead, everyone’s eyes shift to take in the new player in our ever-growing spectacle.

  Shit, not him again.

  Bash is standing next to Edward, and the differences between the two men couldn’t be more obvious. Of course, there would be no contest if it came down to anything physical. Edward is tall, but he’s thin and exercises more for health and a desire for immortality than to get strong. His suit is probably worth more than this entire bar takes in on a good night, his nails and hair are always perfectly manicured, and his face is always shaved close.

  Bash, on the other hand, has dark hair that looks as though he’s slept in his helmet, his face looks like it hasn’t seen a razor in at least a couple of days, and the muscles of his arms that are uncovered by his leather vest are heavily tattooed. I think if I’m ever asked to define the word “manly,” I should just show a picture of this guy and I wouldn’t have to say another word.

  As soon as Edward takes a look at Bash he takes a step back, whether voluntarily or because Bash is practically on top of him. As he does, both of his bodyguards step forward and flank him. Bash doesn’t even look at them. His cold, dark eyes are fixated on Edward. I don’t even think he’s blinked since he spoke.

  Now the men on either side of Edward step back, even though Bash hasn’t made a move. It isn’t until I follow their gaze past Bash that I see about six other men wearing leather vests break through the crowd to stand behind their friend.

  I’m pretty sure no one has said anything yet, but I can’t be sure I’d have heard them over the sound of my own heartbeat thumping in my ears. What the hell is going on?