Center of Gravity (Marauders Book 3)

by Lina Andersson

  He did a mental calculation about how little time he had, but finally just decided that if she needed him, he’d be there for her, and he sat down next to Lisa.

  “Sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

  “I had some problems back in L.A. It was a guy—obviously—and at the same time I got the offer to come here and be a part of the study I’m working on now. They asked for me especially, and I took it.” She looked at him with determined eyes. “It wasn’t because of the guy. It was something I wanted to do.”

  Mitch wasn’t convinced that was the entire truth, but she needed to think it was, so he agreed, “Okay. So what’s going on with Sisco?”

  Sisco was about twenty years older than Lisa. That kind of age difference wasn’t unheard of. Sisco wouldn’t even be very original when it came to bikers if he had a much younger woman—he’d be more of a cliché. Mitch just had a really fucking hard time imagining Sisco locked down with any woman, and if his recent arguments with Lisa were any indication, so did Sisco.

  “That’s actually a much longer and older story that you’d think,” she muttered.

  The ‘older’ sounded ominous if you took Bear into account, because he was very protective of his girls, and if Sisco’d fucked up, Bear would get back at him, no matter how long ago it had happened. But if Bear ever found out, it wouldn’t be because Mitch told him. Mitch, Mac, and Lisa’d made a pact years ago, before the fact that they were different sexes mattered much to them, that whatever they said to each other was between them. They never passed it on.

  “You never told me that,” he said.

  “I was very drunk and upset, and he was very drunk, too.”

  “If you tell me he popped your cherry, I might hurl.”

  “No!” she laughed. “And I was eighteen.”

  “Yeah, because we know that matters to Bear.” He put an arm around her. “I’m guessing this was around the time when Freddie dumped you and you cut off your hair. Now another guy dumped you, and somehow you go running back to the bearded, longhaired biker who looks like a slightly younger version of your dad again.”

  She glared at him, but he could see a smile on her lips. “Electra complex?”

  “Am I close?”

  “Annoyingly so, when I think about it.” She looked at his leg that was jumping up and down, like it always did when he was stressed, something Lisa knew. “And you’re stressed. Run off and do whatever you were supposed to do. I’ll live.”

  “Sure?”

  He really wanted to go, but he’d stay and talk to Lisa if she needed it. Not like Gordon was going anywhere. The stress was more because he had a need to do something, to feel like they were moving forward. Lisa shook her head.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Just get laid. Anyone. Someone who looks mighty kinky, and who can fuck that angst out of you.”

  She took a deep breath. “I might just do that.” She gave his cheek a kiss. “Thank you Dr. Mitch.”

  “Any time, Dr. Warren.” He jumped down and started towards his bike again, but turned around. “That guy at Wicked Ink, Chris, he’s got an apadravya. I’ve heard those are good.”

  “A rod through his dick?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He has a girlfriend.”

  “Not anymore.” He straddled his bike. “If you go there, let me know what it was like.”

  “Well, I do have a few days off later this month,” she smiled. “I might just offer him a three-day sex fest so I can do some research.”

  He laughed and started his bike. It sounded like she’d be fine. Lisa had a tendency to always land on her feet.

  -o0o-

  Detective Gordon looked ready to strike when he opened the door and saw him, and Mitch held up his hand to calm him down.

  “I suggest you come outside and close the door. I don’t think you want your wife to hear what I have to say.”

  Gordon took a step outside and closed the door behind him. “If this is about Evans, I’d rather tell her about our affair than help you.”

  “That is just awesome, Gordon. I think you should tell her, because honesty is so very important to get a marriage to work. At least that’s what I’ve heard. While you tell her about Evans, you should probably also tell her about the mortgages you’ve taken out on your lovely house here, and how you’ve maxed out each and every one of your credit cards.” He noticed Gordon take a deep breath. “A little gambling problem? Not doing too well on those poker sites?”

  “What do you want?”

  “Actually, I think this could be a mutually beneficial situation. A girl was found poisoned in Globe. I need all the info you can get me on that murder.”

  Gordon kept eyeing him, and Mitch sighed. The ‘mutually beneficial’ and ‘dead girl’ should’ve clued him in on why Mitch was interested. Especially since he had asked for information and not for evidence to disappear, but Gordon obviously had no idea. He truly hoped he’d mention this to his partner, because Gordon alone wouldn’t be of much help. It was much more likely that Evans would be able to put two and two together and understand what Mitch was looking for—and why.

  “A murdered woman, close by, and I’m interested. Do I have to fucking spell it out to you?” Mitch asked.

  “You think she’s got something to do with the two other murders?”

  “That’s what I wanna know.” No point in giving him enough clues to figure out who the actual murderer was, and how it was linked to the Marauders. And it was obvious that without having it spelled out, Gordon wouldn’t solve anything. Evans might, so Mitch decided to be careful with what he was telling them while still giving them enough. “So you get in contact with them, and then you let me know what they say. Anything they say.”

  Mitch could probably hack their local police stations servers without much of an effort, but he wanted the gossip side of the investigation, too. He had a feeling that would be much more interesting from his point of view than the official reports. Not even mentioning that the redneck cops in those areas weren’t that efficient, and it would most likely take weeks before they had it all on their servers.

  Gordon’s gorilla jaws were working until he eventually spit out, “Okay.”

  “Good. I’ll contact you. If you do a good job, we might be able to help you with your debts.”

  He left him outside his house, and by the time Mitch took off, Gordon was still standing there. If he had half a brain, he understood that this wouldn’t be the only favor Mitch would be asking of him.

  Anna was in bed by the time he came home, and he snuck into bed behind her with a content sigh.

  “Productive day?” she asked in a murmur as she pressed herself closer to him.

  “You could say that,” he chuckled.

  He wasn’t sure how much use Gordon would really be in this particular case, but he could help them, and even if he couldn’t, they had him under their thumb now. In the middle of the rest of the shit, that made it a really productive day.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  You Missed The Exit

  -o0o-

  I’d been longing for this day, and even if it had been slightly forgotten in the middle of having spent the last month with getting the apartment done, it had been in the back of my mind the entire time. It was my first day at the ballet.

  Or, it wasn’t exactly my first day, since this was just an introduction, but no matter what, I was going to the ballet and not just to watch, but to work.

  Margaret, or Maggie, as everyone called her, giggled when I eagerly hobbled into the shoe storage.

  “Think I saw your belly coming around the shelf a few seconds before you showed up.”

  “I’m massive, I know.”

  “What week are you?”

  “Thirty-six.”

  “Then you’re not massive, sweetheart,” she smiled. “How do you feel about this?”

  “Eager and nervous at the same time. I’m glad to be back, but there’s a lot of things regarding this that I�
��m worried about.”

  “There’s nothing to it at all. You’ll do fine, and I can retire knowing that someone who truly knows how a shoe should fit is in charge. The ordering and the budget is nothing to worry about at all. I’ll make sure you know all those things before I leave.”

  She started showing me around, and I was surrounded by shoes. The idea of being surrounded by shoes had, in all honesty, been the biggest source of anxiety. How I’d react, because the shoes were such a symbol of dancing. I knew exactly how the silk felt under my hands, what they sounded like when I ran over the floor at the different stages of wear, and how a new pair of shoes felt when I slipped my foot inside them. All that, despite not having done it in years.

  The first time I tried pointe shoes was something I’d never forget—no dancer ever did. A woman from the shoe shop came to class and had brought all kinds of different shoes, and everyone who was the right age and at the right stage of training had immediately started trying them on. I’d brought my first pair home, and Irina had showed me how to prepare them and the different things I could try to use to spare my feet as much as possible, like toe pads, gel toe spacers, and tape. The only thing I’d used after a few years was lambs wool.

  My hand was shaking when I carefully ran it over a shelf full of shoes, and I drew a deep, shaky breath when I felt them under my fingertips for the first time in years.

  “You okay, love?” Maggie asked.

  I turned to her and nodded, which contradicted the tears in my eyes. “I miss them,” I admitted.

  “I know what you mean,” she smiled. “I’ll let you in on a secret,” she continued and hooked her arm in mine as she moved us further into the room. “The first few years when I worked here, I missed dancing so much I sometimes put on a pair of shoes just to feel them on my feet. Only when I was alone, though. Sometimes I cried like a baby.”

  I laughed. “I just might do that.”

  “You should. I consider it a work benefit.”

  That first day was mostly her showing me how she’d set up the storage room. She emphasized that I was free to make changes if I thought it was necessary. The storage room was my dominion, and I’d be in charge of it. She admitted that some of the dancers might bitch about it if I made changes, but that they’d get used to it. I didn’t see any need to make any changes. It all seemed very cleverly organized.

  “What kind of shoes did you have?” she asked me towards the end.

  “I had my own maker at the ballet, they were fitted for me especially, but I used Bloch before that. Serenade.”

  “Remember your size?”

  “Does anyone ever forget?” I asked with a laugh. “6.5 C.”

  “Want a pair?”

  I nodded. “Is this another one of the things you consider a work benefit?”

  “Think you should get used to the shoes. It’ll help you not cry when you’re here.”

  “So this is experience talking?”

  “Definitely. You need to get used to them again.”

  I held my bag against my chest on my way home, and if Irina noticed, she didn’t comment on it. She asked me a few question, but really general ones. She understood what it had meant to me, but didn’t want to bug me with questions, and I truly appreciated it.

  Mitch was at home when I arrived, and for a second I was annoyed. I would’ve wanted to be alone with my shoes—a sentence that sounded really strange even in my head.

  “What are you doing home?” I asked.

  “Wanted to be here,” he shrugged. “How was it?”

  The question sank in, I thought about it carefully, and Mitch laughed.

  “That good?”

  “Yes.” I picked the shoes out of my bag. “She gave me a pair of shoes.”

  “Okay?” he said and looked slightly confused. “Why?”

  “I cried a little when I touched the shoes,” I admitted. He raised an eyebrow, and I wanted to make him understand. “Think of it as a bike, and you haven’t seen or touched one in a really long time, and even if you can’t ride it...”

  “It’s still a bike, and I could fiddle with it a little,” he nodded—he understood! He leaned his forehead against mine. “Wanna be alone with your shoes and fiddle with them a little?”

  “Yes,” I mumbled.

  “Just... be careful. Okay? I don’t wanna come home and find you sprawled out on the floor with a broken ankle.”

  “I won’t try to walk on them. I’m just gonna prepare them a little. She gave me the things I needed. I just... need...”

  “I get it, Gimp,” he smiled. “I really do.”

  He cupped my face in his hands and gave me a long kiss before he turned around and strolled towards the door.

  “Mitch.”

  “Yeah, babe.”

  “Thank you, and I love you.”

  “Love you, too. Have fun!”

  -o0o-

  Mitch didn’t come home until I’d gone to bed and was already asleep. He’d called me before that to make sure I wasn’t sprawled out on the floor, but by then I was already on the couch in front of the TV. Admittedly, I was wearing the shoes, but I hadn’t even tried to go up en pointe. I probably could, a little, but I would break my heart to notice how untrained my feet and ankles really were. I just liked the feeling of having them on. I didn’t tell him that part, though. Just said it was all okay, and that he could come home if he wanted to, but he had some work to do.

  He woke me up the next morning by massaging my leg. This had turned into a habit, and it was by far the best wake-up calls I’d ever had. They quite often led to sex, but not always.

  “Morning, Gimp,” he whispered when he noticed that I was awake. “Feeling okay?”

  “As usual,” I sighed and stretched carefully while he was working on my muscles.

  “Sure?”

  “Yeah. What’s the worry?”

  “I realized when I came home that you might’ve needed me last night.”

  “No. I was fine. Honestly, I was. I enjoyed it, and I didn’t cry at all.”

  “Not even a little sob?”

  “Nope. Smiled like a moron most of the time, though,” I laughed. “It was nice. I probably should’ve done that a long time ago.”

  He gave my scarred leg a few kisses while kneading my calf.

  “Your belly is so big I can’t see you when I do this anymore.”

  “Kissing my leg?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m pretty huge.”

  “You’re also pretty sexy,” he mumbled from somewhere below my stomach. “And this might be weird, but I fucking love your leg.”

  “I’ve noticed it doesn’t gross you out, but it does seem a little weird that you love it.”

  He moved up over me and gave me a kiss.

  “I love it, because those scars are why you’re here, in our bed, knocked up, and love me,” he smiled. “A girl like you wouldn’t have given me a shot otherwise.”

  “I was pretty desperate, and you were the sluttiest guy I could find,” I admitted.

  Mitch laughed. “You said nonjudgmental, not slutty.”

  “Don’t think you would’ve given me a shot without that leg, either. You would’ve thought I was a stuck-up dancing doll.”

  “I would’ve given you a shot. I imagined ten positions I’d fuck you in even before I knew you’d been in an accident.”

  “Have we fucked in all of them?”

  “Took us less than a month. I’d actually underestimated how flexible you are.” He looked at my belly. “Or were.”

  “I’m still flexible, it’s just that it’s in the way.”

  “I know, and I’m not complaining. Think some of the workarounds are gonna be in our fuck repertoire for years.” He gave me another kiss. “Get up and I’ll give you a lift to PT.”

  “Think you can leave me there and let me get home by myself? I need to get you a present for tomorrow.”

  It was his birthday the next day, and I still hadn’t bought him anythin
g. He was not a guy who was easy to buy gifts for. The necklace I gave him for Christmas had worked well, but I didn’t really have any ideas like that this time around. I’d have liked to give him something that referred to Sprout, but that would’ve been a lot easier if she was born, and buying something for her was just insanely boring. I wanted something special for him, but I was all out of ideas. I’d even tried to ask Mac, but he admitted that buying things for Mitch was hard has hell. He usually ended up buying something that was more of a joke than a real gift, and I didn’t want to do that.

  “We’re short on people, since some are away, and Brick didn’t want Mel and April alone. I’ll take you there, and then you call Lisa or Vi to take you home.”

  “Violet?” I asked. “It’s not like Violet is a huge girl who looks like she can take down an army by herself, the way Tommy does.”

  Mitch laughed. “No she couldn’t, but it’s more that I don’t want you alone. Just give one of them a call, and if they can’t, call me, and I’ll figure something out.” He leaned over me and gave me a kiss. “How about a shower and we’ll finish this?”

  “That sounds good.”

  -o0o-

  Mitch followed me inside to say hi to Brett. The brotherly bonding, that had started with Brett helping him to make sure I’d meet up with him later months earlier, had meant they were pretty close these days. Mitch had followed me there quite a few times. Most often, just like that day, he followed me inside, had a few words with Brett, and then left. He’d also asked Brett a few things about how he could help me better, and it had resulted in the two of them poking and pulling on me for a full hour. It had annoyed me at the time, but had helped a lot to make the morning and evening massages more efficient. They also hurt more and were less sexy, but given the current status of my body, I could live with that. I was, however, going to make sure he went back to the hornier massages as soon as Sprout was born and my body had healed.

  “We skimped on the morning exercise today, so make sure you compensate for that,” he said to Brett with a wink.

  “Thanks a lot! He’s gonna torture me now.”

  “I’ll sort her out,” Brett smiled at Mitch, completely ignoring me. They often did that, talked over my head, and it would have annoyed me a lot more than it did if I hadn’t known that was the purpose. “Need to get her in shape for your birthday. Tomorrow, isn’t it?”