GUNNER: MC ROMANCE (Forsaken Riders MC Romance Book 4)

by Samantha Leal

  Steve was definitely acting strange. Normally suave and sophisticated, his hands moved jerkily and there was something dishonest about his general demeanor.

  Helen was like a cat at his side, stretching her long arms and fingers with an air of smug satisfaction. She was almost predatory in the way she moved stealthily around him, like a lion around a gazelle.

  Andrea knew instinctively that something was wrong and her air of excitement and expectancy of being back home began to fade into something ugly and twisted. It was obvious he was sleeping with this woman. She felt almost sorry for him, he looked confused and somewhat weary around the eyes, obviously her sudden appearance had caused him some real problems. Well tough!

  She had only been gone just over a week, 10 days to be exact and he had been unfaithful. Whilst she was stood at her grandmother’s graveside he had been shagging this stranger. Andrea could feel the anger rising inside of her but it had nowhere to go. The exhibition would be opening soon and it would be no good to cause a scene out here in public. She would have to wait, bide her time and stem her feelings until later, when she could rant and scream in private.

  Steve made an excuse to leave. One of the exhibits needed looking at and after a quick smile and squeeze of her arm he left the two women together.

  Helen gave him a knowing smile as he headed across the room.

  ‘Coward’, thought Andrea, like all men, sloping off when they couldn't stand the heat.

  "Well Andrea, we weren't expecting you back tonight. What made you change your mind?" Helen almost purred in her Deep South American lazy drawl.

  She felt like shouting 'None of your fucking business bitch ' but ended up smiling instead. The word 'we' had grated too. It inferred that Helen and Steve were an item and it was she who was the odd one out.

  Andrea hated this woman more and more. She was certainly trying her best to usurp her and Andrea was determined not to let that happen.

  "Steve has worked so hard for this. It's his night and we have to allow him a little leeway. Artistic souls always like to have a sense of freedom don't you think. We don't want to cramp his style"

  Biting her lip Andrea wants to scream. How dare this woman tell her about Steve; HER Steve?

  "Yes I do know how hard STEVE has been working. We have been through it all together and I have been supporting him for the last 3 years"

  Helen narrowed her eyes as if she had not expected this inferior woman stood before her to retaliate. It was good to have a bit of fighting spirit in one’s adversaries. She always enjoyed a challenge.

  ***

  Very soon the champagne corks were popping and flashbulbs exploding as the event kicked off with a host of the great and the good in attendance. The beautiful people arrived and were whisked through the canapés and glasses of bubbly with a sophisticated ease. The whole thing was a terrific success and Steve reveled in the limelight, once again finding his nerve and oozing charm in bucketfuls, having pulled off the evening with great aplomb.

  Andrea had been by his side for most of the evening, the supportive partner. The tabloids would show pictures of them the following morning, portraying them as the golden couple, the beautiful pair. They had spoken little apart from the usual pleasantries. Smiling much more than talking and the pretence was making Andrea weary. In the background she would always catch Helen hovering around, casually glancing over at Steve, catching his eye, brushing his arm with her hand, passing him another glass of champagne and laughing at the end of his jokes. She was like an irritating fly that Andrea longed to swat.

  ***

  She was tired and needed to rest but also needed to be on her guard. The effort was taking its toll and she leaned into a large Grecian pillar that let into a small alcove where one of Steve's larger pictures was framed, for support.

  "You look tired; it must be the jet lag. You can go home and rest if you like. I can look after Steve."

  Helen was purring by her side before she had the chance to move and Andrea immediately stood straight up to her full height to face her rival.

  Even up close her beauty was intoxicating, in the way that the Disney villainesses are beautiful, a cold and cruel beauty, hard and empty, poisonous.

  Their eyes locked, there would be a battle that much was for certain, but this was neither the time nor the place. Besides, the jet lag was kicking in and she had to admit that she did not have the strength for a fight this evening..

  "You need another glass of champagne to keep you awake, let me fetch you one" and before Andrea could protest, Helen was striding off in the direction of one of the young waiters holding a silver tray of expensive, cut glass champagne flutes.

  "Here you go, bottoms up, chin chin, or whatever it is you English say"

  Andrea took the glass reluctantly. She would rather have stuck pins in her eyes than accept hospitality from this witch, but her time would come. Once rested she would find a few choice words to say to Steve as well as Helen, but for now she would drink the champagne and be as gracious as she could be.

  The bubbles burst against the roof of her mouth, crisp and dry; very good champagne, very expensive champagne but she couldn't be bought that easily.

  Helen watched carefully as Andrea drank, watching the liquid quickly disappear from the glass, a smile playing on her lips.

  The effect was almost immediate, a combination of tiredness and an empty stomach caused the alcohol to course through her veins quickly, a wave of light headedness and nausea passing over her.

  "Steady", Helen caught her arm as she felt herself sway, the long red nails biting into her skin.

  There was something in the way that the green eyes glinted at her that caused Andrea to panic. Champagne sometimes made her heady but this was something else. Her vision had started to blur and the room had started to spin. Even in the raucous days of university she had never felt like this.

  All she could see was Helen's eyes looking at her, laughing at her.

  "You! What have you done to me?"

  Helen took the glass out of her hand before she fell. Drugging someone’s drink was the oldest trick in the book. It had worked for centuries.

  Andrea could feel herself falling but could not stop herself. Everything was growing dark around her and she desperately needed to sleep.

  A pair of green eyes stared back at her and then all went black.

  2.

  The light shining through the window hurt her eyes and Andrea shut them tightly again. Her head thumped and her body ached as if she had spent a night in a wrestling match.

  She was back in her own bed, their bed, in the apartment; how she got there she could not remember but had a faint recollection of being at the gallery, of feeling annoyed with Steve for some reason. Rolling over she glanced at the clock - it was 2pm, half the day was over and she felt like hell.

  Why hadn't Steve woken her earlier? Glancing at his side of the bed it looked neat and pristine; no one had slept in this bed apart from her last night. What had happened to Steve? It had been his big night, the reason for her trip back home and she could barely remember it. Then it struck her, a pair of green eyes stared solidly in the back of her mind. Helen!

  There were footsteps in the next room as the door slowly opened and Steve appeared. He looked worse for wear, disheveled and almost dishonest in his shabbiness as he crept into the room, unsure if she was awake.

  Andrea opened her eyes, staring straight at him and he had to look away, sheepishly walking to the window in pretence of opening the curtains for her.

  "It's a beautiful day out there, you feeling better now!"

  He spoke without turning and she could hear the apprehension in his voice.

  Sitting up she made no reply but waited for him to look at her, to watch his face as he talked to her.

  "You gave us all quite a fright"

  "Us?"

  "It's just a figure of speech. I was worried about you. What happened?"

  What happened indeed? She could remember He
len handing her a drink and feeling dizzy after a few sips. No she hadn't felt dizzy, she had felt drugged. Helen had drugged her.

  "She tried to kill me"

  With a puzzled smile on his face, Steve walked over to the bed "Who tried to kill you, what are you talking about?"

  "Helen, the woman you’re shagging. She slipped something into my drink last night".

  He didn't reply at first but stared at her before starting to laugh out loudly.

  "What on earth are you talking about? I think you've been dreaming."

  “I saw her Steve, there is something about that woman, something evil and don’t pretend that you’re not sleeping with her, it’s obvious. I mean you didn’t even come home last night!”

  Steve stood and scratched his head. “You’re crazy, now just calm down. One, I am not sleeping with Helen, and for your information I slept on the couch last night. I got one of the team to bring you home, see that you were all right”

  “That’s very big of you. I could have died for all you care. You didn’t even bother to bring me home yourself.”

  Steve sighed “You know what a big deal the exhibition is for me, I had to stay. Anyway you survived. You were just tired and collapsed through exhaustion and champagne, that’s all” Steve tried to smile but Andrea glared at him through blurry eyes.

  “That’s all! Steve, that woman Helen slipped something in my drink, I’m telling you. I only had a couple of glasses. She could have killed me”

  He was tired and could do without the hysterics. “Look Andrea, you’ve had a lot of stress lately, your Grandmother just died, maybe you need a break. You look tired. Maybe you should go to see the doctor, get checked out and see that you are OK?”

  Andrea could feel the tears start to fill her eyes. Perhaps he was right, maybe she was being hysterical, overwrought? The last 2 weeks had been a whirlwind of emotion and for the last few days she had carried a strange feeling around with her, as if she had lost something, as if something was missing. At first she had thought that the feelings were connected to the death of her Grandmother, but there was something else, she just couldn’t figure out what. Maybe she was going crazy after all?

  She tried to smile.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that we always seem to be fighting these days. I’ve been away for a week or so and as soon as I get back there seems to be another woman hanging around. A rich and attractive one at that”.

  “You know it’s only business. I have to keep on the right side of Helen, she’s a big influence in the arts scene in New York and if I play my cards right it could lead to bigger and better things”

  “You mean sleep with her”.

  She regretted the words as soon as they had left her mouth.

  “I’m sorry Steve. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Let’s go out to lunch and celebrate my return and your success”

  He rubbed his ear; she had noticed that he did that when he felt uncomfortable.

  “I’m sorry Andrea, I promised Helen I would help her this afternoon. They have another exhibition opening at their second gallery, it starts next week and some artifacts are being delivered today. She wanted me to be around to supervise”.

  “I bet she did”.

  The air was tense once again and Steve turned to look through the window, unsure what to say.

  “Sorry, but I have to go”.

  Glancing back at her their eyes locked before he left the room and she heard the door slam behind him. Something was wrong, unspoken, but her head was too foggy to fathom it out.

  Rising from the bed she stumbled towards the living room. The couch was draped with pillows and a spare quilt. Steve had been telling the truth about that at least. But she didn’t buy it that nothing else was going on. She was a woman with a sixth sense and she just knew.

  Standing in the shower she let the hot spray revive her tired skin. There was something about hot water that calmed the soul as much as it cleansed the body. Reaching for her expensive shower gel, she squeezed some of it into her hands, the fragrance of lavender and rosemary hitting her nostrils and immediately soothed the senses. A picture came into her mind; she was standing in front of an open fire, washing herself with lavender soap. She could almost sense a feeling of oppression, an image of a locked room, stone walls, something almost out of time. The images seemed so real that they startled her and a cold shudder ran through her spine and her skin bristled with goosebumps, despite the hot water splashing against her.

  The feeling left her shaken as she dried herself, wrapping her body in the oversized fluffy towel and she tried hard to remember. Her heart started to beat faster. She could remember a room, a bed, like something out of the middle ages. It was her room, of that she was certain. She had been afraid of something, or someone, but against her fear there had been a stronger feeling, something much deeper, there had been love. There had been a man, she had remembered him on the plane, Alex; the memory seemed so faint now that it flitted across her mind like a shadow.

  Andrea shook her head as she wrapped her wet hair in a towel. This was crazy. Maybe she was just remembering a vivid dream, sometimes it happened that way, waking up one morning straight from an adventure, wondering where the hell you were for a minute or too. A wave of nausea swept over her and leaning against the cool of the tiles she closed her eyes a moment to steady herself. Maybe she was ill, run down or a touch of flu, something circulating in the planes air conditioning no doubt. Maybe she should check in with the Doc?

  Picking up the phone she dialed Kate’s number. A good friend as well as local GP, Andrea rarely visited Kate in her professional capacity; she was sure to put her mind at ease.

  Dr Kate Benning was between patients and came directly to the phone.

  “Hey Andrea, good to hear from you, how was your trip?”

  Kate’s voice almost made her cry. The first friendly voice she had heard since she had returned to the States. Her voice croaked down the phone as she blinked back the tears.

  “Hey Kate, all’s good here thanks”.

  There was a pause as Andrea deliberated on her words.

  “I guess this isn’t just a social call then, what’s the matter Andrea, tell Dr Kate?”

  Good old Kate, she could always break the ice.

  “I’m probably just being silly, but I don’t seem to have been myself since I got back home. I seem to have fainted at Steve’s opening night, and now, just getting out of the shower, I came over dizzy. I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably just jet lagged – I shouldn’t have bothered you really Kate, but Steve put it into my mind to call you”

  “Too bloody right and for once I agree with the man. Look I have a spare appointment this afternoon about 16:30, why don’t you pop down to see me eh? Just check you out.”

  Putting down the phone Andrea felt relieved. It couldn’t do any harm. She was sure it was nothing and anyhow, it would be good to catch up with Kate. She needed a friend right now.

  ***

  It was only a couple of blocks to the surgery and it was good to stretch her legs and feel the cold winter air on her face. By the time she had reached the building she was feeling much better and felt a bit of a fraud for wasting her friend’s time.

  The air was warm and hit her immediately as she entered the neat and friendly waiting area. The receptionist smiled and told her to take a seat – Kate would be out shortly.

  The glass coffee table was piled with assorted glossy magazines and Andrea plucked one disinterestedly from the top of the pile. She never bought the things herself. Too full of adverts for expensive products that she neither desired nor could afford, and air brushed models looking hopelessly perfect. The only times she thumbed through them were when she visited either the dentist or the hairdressers. The pages were full of celebrities, kiss and tell stories behind pictures of smiling white teeth; the worst kind of mag.

  ‘I was one of Henry V111’s Wives’ one of the headlines shouted out to her. Andrea smiled as she skimmed through the artic
le. An up and coming young actress was claiming that she had been regressed into a past life and that she had been Anne Boleyn, one of Henry the Eighth’s wives. The article went on to describe how she could remember the feeling of fear as she approached the scaffold on the final morning of her life, feel the damp of the morning upon her skin.

  Andrea could feel the hairs on the back of her neck bristle against her shirt as she remembered her own incident in the shower that very morning. Perhaps that had been a flashback to an earlier life too?

  “Andrea!”

  The door to the surgery had opened and Kate’s smiling face reassuringly brought her back to the 21st century. Smiling and laughing at the same time she stood to greet her friend, welcoming arms wrapping around her. How come a friend could welcome her in such a way and not her lover?

  “You look great Andrea, if not a little tired. Step through to the surgery and we’ll have a chat. Do you want a coffee?”

  A coffee; heaven! Andrea had been in such a state earlier that she hadn’t even thought about breakfast or brunch or whatever had been appropriate for that time of day. She settled into the leather seat of the chair by Kate’s desk, waiting for her to bring the coffee.

  The caffeine hit her like a shot. Kate made good, strong coffee and it was just what the Dr had ordered.

  “Well Andrea, let’s get the boring bits out of the way before we catch up properly. What seems to be the problem? You mentioned on the phone that you had been fainting?”

  It didn’t help that Kate was her friend. It was the usual syndrome of feeling well as soon as you walked into a Dr’s surgery.

  “Actually I’m feeling a lot better now Kate. I think it’s nothing”

  Kate smiled; she was used to her patients being evasive.

  “Fainting twice within the space of 24 hours is not ‘nothing’ Andrea. Now, let me take your blood pressure. Are you taking any medication?”