A Perfect Chance

by Becca Lee

  I was about to speak, but her eyes springing open had me closing my mouth. Her voice was eerily level when she spoke. "So a jerkoff has been taking photos of us doing the dirty and just, what, left them there for you to see? To let you know someone was invading our personal space? Have I got that right?"

  I bobbed my head, deciding keeping my mouth shut may be for the best, for the time being.

  "How old were the images?"

  "Some could have been a few weeks, but there were ones of us from today, in the office." I watched her gulp and then bite the inside of her cheek.

  "And what about the picture of Abigail? Were you…?"

  "No." I shook my head. "It was just a picture I'd taken of her. It was stored away in the garage."

  "Here?"

  "Yes. I have guys investigating and coming around to figure out how they got in undetected. They'll put some extra measures in place too."

  "So what are you planning on doing with the photos?"

  "Cole's bagging and burning them."

  Her face blanched, the first physical reaction she'd given. "They all saw the pictures, Diesel included." It wasn't a question.

  "I know it's a big deal, baby, but don't even spend a second worrying about that. All those pictures achieved was pissing off a group of hard-arses. You have nothing to be embarrassed about."

  "How graphic were they?"

  I sighed. “They weren't close-up porno shots or anything, Lena." I attempted a quick smile, sure it came out as a grimace. She snorted, much to my relief. "Seriously, the images are already long gone. The focus now needs to be working out what game's being played and putting a stop to it."

  "A game?" Her voice rose, her calm evaporating with those two words. "You think this is a fucking game?"

  While anger wasn't ideal, I preferred it as her way of coping. It meant that she was at least in part controlling her emotions and reaction. "Bad word choice. I'm sorry." I took her hand in mine. "Just give me time to figure this out, okay?"

  Her shoulders sagged; her anger short lived.

  "Okay. So what now?"

  I knew that there were such things as perfect timing, and this was no doubt not one of those times, but I couldn't stop the next words from spilling forth. "I want you to move in with me for good, today." I paused a beat. "I want us to live together."

  "Why?"

  Okay, not the reaction I was expecting exactly. "Why not?" I answered lamely.

  She smirked and shook her head. "I mean why now?"

  I returned her smile, relief settling in my tight chest. "You were always going to live with me, baby. You're mine. Today seems as good a day as any."

  Quirking a brow, she rested back in her seat, grabbing my beer from the table. "Oh, really? I'm a sure thing, am I?" She took a drink. "What if I don't want to move in?"

  I squinted at her, choosing not to bite and only interpreting her words one way. "We can get a new place together if you want. I'm okay with that. Whatever you want." I shrugged. "And you know, I'm the sure thing in this relationship, Lena. You can count on that." I leaned back in my own chair and watched her reaction.

  She worried her bottom lip, seeming to mull over my words. "Have you got empty boxes in the garage?"

  Grinning, I stood and dragged her off the chair, swiping the bottle from her hand before she dropped it. Lifting her, I turned and placed her arse on the table before stepping between her legs. "Thank you," I whispered against her lips, brushing against them gently and caressing her bottom lip with my tongue. "Let's do it now so I can then focus on working through this clusterfuck, okay?"

  She nodded and then pressed her lips against mine. While I wanted to seal the deal by spreading her out on the table and feasting on her pussy, I wanted to get her moved in so I could start investigating properly. Allowing Lena the small reprieve of moving in was what she needed; hell, it surprisingly calmed me too, enough so the red rage had long faded. It would mean I could think and investigate with a clear head, and be driven by facts and evidence rather than gunning for blood with my emotions ruling me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  LENA

  My hand met cotton rather than Mace. Opening my lids, I peered into the darkness then picked up my phone to look at the time. 3:27 a.m. After rubbing my eyes, I sat up, switched on the bedside light and got out of bed. His side of the bed remained unslept in, meaning he'd yet to come to bed. It was four days after the incident at the office and four mornings that I'd woken at an ungodly hour alone.

  I understood his drive and the seriousness of the situation, but he was going to burn himself out unless he allowed himself to rest.

  I threw on my PJs, a cute shorts set with a heart print, and made my way out of the room. I paused when I heard voices. Not distinguishing between them, I carried on through to the kitchen and found Mace, Jenson, and Diesel at the table. They were surrounded by paperwork, their laptops open, and were talking animatedly.

  Mace looked tired and ruffled, but there was also something different about him, something I'd missed over the last few days. His eyes were alight with excitement, his knee bouncing as he spoke. Diesel and Jenson looked crazy eager about something too, especially considering it was drawing up on four o'clock.

  "Drink?" I asked from the end of the room. Three pairs of eyes darted to me. All three handsome faces smiled, until two dropped into frowns as their eyes raked over me. Diesel seemed unimpressed, while Mace shot out of his seat and took long strides towards me.

  "Where are your clothes, baby?"

  I snorted. "It's after three. I was naked. You're lucky I threw these on." I was deadly serious, and he knew it. It wouldn't be the first time I’d made my way around the house butt naked.

  His eyes darkened. "You look too sexy. Want to throw something else on for me?"

  "Don't mind me," Jenson called out. I looked over Mace's broad shoulder just in time to see my brother smack him around the head. "Hell, man!"

  "That's my sister, dickwad."

  Jenson shrugged. He knew exactly who I was to these two big men and apparently took pleasure in winding them both up. I grinned and looked back up at Mace. I was half tempted to push past him and go and put the kettle on—sometimes it was fun poking the bear—but I was more eager to find out what discovery they'd made that had put eagerness on their faces when I'd first entered.

  Standing on my tiptoes, I pecked a kiss on Mace's lips. "Fine. Put the kettle on for me, please." I spun around and then squealed when his hand made contact with my butt. I threw him a scowl over my shoulder before turning and grinning, loving the laugh I left behind.

  After throwing on some longer shorts and a singlet, I headed back and started making drinks, half listening to the guys talking. I looked on while the teabags were steeping.

  Mace, while sleep deprived, was still incredibly hot, especially when wound up with excited anticipation. I flicked my gaze to my brother. He actually looked fairly together, as though he'd at least managed to get some sleep. His dark hair was in need of a trim, and it looked like his rough facial hair was becoming a beard. With me no longer living with him, he hadn't me on his case, which worried me.

  Despite being a grown-arse man, he didn't take care of himself as he should. I just hoped that since I wasn't under his feet, he'd feel able to have a life outside of work and running the club. He needed to find time to have fun along the way too.

  Then there was Jenson. I had to admit, he was pretty sexy, but in a different way to the hotness of Mace. Yeah, he was built, but not one piece of ink decorated his skin, making him stand out that much more as he sat with my brother and Mace. His hair was closely shaven and dark, and he had gorgeous olive skin. I didn't know Jenson all that well, but I knew enough of him to know he excelled at what he did, so much so that he and Mace were talking expansion and partnership.

  I was excited for Mace. He worked his arse off and did so much good. Yeah, he was paid at the end of the day, but he also did pro bono work on occasion. The world of security was
nothing as I had imagined and while I'd only recently stepped into the environment and there was still a lot to learn, I was eager to help with the expansion and to put my degree to good use.

  Finishing the drinks, I took them to the table, handed them out, and sat. The guys thanked me and then I waited, not so patiently, to find out what the excitement was for.

  Mace grinned at me, reading me like a book, knowing the tapping of my finger was my failed attempt at being patient.

  "Chris checked in," Mace started, referring to one of Deadwood's new recruits. "O'Leary's clean as a whistle. There's been nothing at all suspicious. I've dug in a few files too, but I can't find any link."

  I glanced at the men, my brows dipped, wondering how this information could be a good thing. "I don't get it," I admitted.

  "Well, Chris made a call for Flick to join him, said there was something dodgy about Enfield." My eyes widened in surprise. "Flick ended up trailing him over the last three days and spotted him meeting with Rebel."

  "Shit. What sort of meeting?"

  A vein in Mace’s temple twitched as soon as he'd started talking about Enfield and his possible involvement. "Envelopes changing hands and a couple of arguments too. He definitely wasn't there as a cop, and Rebel wasn't wearing his cut."

  "It was a good thing it was Flick there. He's a freaking genius or some shit with faces," Diesel cut in. "Not that Rebel's ugly fucking face is easy to forget." He snorted in humour.

  My head spun with this new information, and I gasped as pieces fell into place. While there was still not a whole picture yet formed, Enfield was a pretty major player. "Mace"—I took his hand—"I'm so sorry. Enfield?" The main thing I knew about Enfield was that as Mace's ex-boss, he was a guy Mace trusted. That must have stung.

  With his nostrils flaring and his jaw tight, it was clear Mace was struggling to get control of his reaction. Tears filled my eyes knowing that a man Mace trusted was responsible for Abigail's death. He may as well have pulled the trigger himself.

  Needing to be closer to comfort Mace, whether he realised he needed it or not, I quickly moved and sat on his lap, throwing my arms around his shoulders and burying my face against his neck. His arms were quick to wrap around me as he pressed his head against my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, baby," I whispered. There was nothing more I could say or do, no words to make the hurt disappear or for the pain to fade.

  Lifting my head, I looked into his eyes when he shifted. I placed my lips against his, hoping to let him know not only did I love him, but I was there in whatever capacity he needed me. He'd helped me so much in my own recovery, to the point I was finally functioning in society again; for that, I could only repay him with the care and understanding he'd shown me.

  Jenson cleared his throat. "Do you guys need a minute?"

  Not taking my eyes off Mace's, a small smile curved my lips. "No, we're good."

  Mace then lifted his hand to my face and wiped a stray tear from my cheek that I hadn't realised had fallen. "Thank you, baby."

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, needing to be strong for this amazing man of mine. Finally able to breathe and not feel as though I was near an emotional breakdown, I quickly kissed his forehead and jumped off his lap, returning to my seat. Despite my attempt at casual and pretending that Diesel and Jenson hadn't just witnessed my softness, I cleared my throat and said, "So what's your plan?"

  My eyes landed on my brother's, and he offered me a wink. I knew this was hard for him too, especially due to his fierce need to protect me. I was also amazed that he didn't cause a stink about me being privy to the discussions. Though I was convinced that was more to do with Mace's insistence. A gentle heat wrapped around my heart at the thought.

  Mace was the one who answered me. "I've called O'Leary"—I raised my brows at this news—"who's already started working on the paper trail. The more I thought about O'Leary since meeting with Nox, the more I realised there was no way he sold us out. He called about an hour ago. It seems Enfield used his wife's name, or rather her maiden name, to purchase a warehouse about forty kilometres out of town. That same building had plans submitted and approved about twelve months ago by McKenny."

  I was sure my mouth dropped open in response to the connection.

  Mace shook his head. "I didn't fucking see it. I've been looking into every single job McKenny had for the last couple of years at least, and I didn't fucking see it."

  I understood his frustration and what nailing McKenny meant to him. "So drugs, this is all about drugs?" When Mace's dad had been released from prison last year, and after it had all gone wrong, it seemed his dad had had some dodgy dealings with McKenny and meth. Nothing would stick on McKenny though, and from what I'd learned, he'd already seemed a step ahead. "Is the warehouse a meth lab or something?"

  "We're suspecting so, yes. O'Leary's chasing a warrant, but because it's Enfield, he has to go through Internal Affairs, so it may take a few days."

  I looked at Diesel, noticing he'd been surprisingly quiet through everything. While he wasn't anti-cops, hell, he'd become friends with Mace while he was on the force, he'd had so many run-ins with them in the past, his trust didn't stretch very far. I know he liked to handle things in-house, but it sounded like the level of shit was far beyond that of an MC's reach. I was relieved at the thought and just hoped that the Riots were buried deep enough to be slammed too. It would make life a whole lot easier for Deadwood if that were the case.

  "So what do you do between then and now?" Things had been quiet since the break-in, and I remained clueless still as to what all the photos had to do with any of this.

  Diesel finally spoke, "We keep digging, but we keep low. We're going to reach out and see if we can find out a bit more about Riots and to see if they're buying direct from McKenny for distribution."

  "Isn't that what the police will do?" I asked.

  Quirking a brow at me, Diesel held back his scoff, barely. I knew the look well enough. "I'm sure they will, but they targeted you and Mace, so there's no way I'm walking away from this."

  There was no use in arguing with Diesel, so instead, I nodded my understanding.

  I'd be just so bloody relieved when all of this bullshit was over so I could finally start living the freedom I'd barely had a taste of. With still so much unknown, there was no chance that would be happening.

  I stayed up for another hour before Mace nudged my half-sleeping form and led me to bed. "Come on, the guys have gone, let's get some sleep."

  I yawned, allowing him to shuffle me to our room. Even in my almost comatose state, a thrill shot through me at that thought. Ours. It was a pretty heady feeling, knowing we'd taken our relationship to the next level. While life had its multitude of stresses, especially at that moment, I didn't want to be anywhere other than beside Mace.

  We snuggled down, his strong arms wrapped around me. "You okay?" I murmured.

  After pressing a kiss to the back of my head, he answered, "I will be."

  I yawned, and scooted closer to him, much preferring being in his arms when I slept. "It'll all be over soon, right?"

  "I'll make sure it is. I promise."

  With my eyes firmly shut, I smiled and released a contented breath. It finally felt as though we were moving forward. It was a great place to be.

  ########

  The next two days were tense and busy. The club get-together had been postponed, which I hated as it was time I couldn't spend with Janie and my attempt at normalcy, plus Mace had cancelled lunch at Jo and Liam's, which also sucked, but I understood his desire not to spread the anxiety into their lives. We spent time at home, the club, and the office, but only at the latter when Mace needed to access paper files there. He also used it as the meeting spot for O'Leary. While I wasn't involved in any of those meetings, Mace told me what he could.

  Through an amazing amount of research and brains coming together, it seemed the dots were finally joining. Mace had given me the simple bare bones, which was probably a little more than he shoul
d have done, but having knowledge also helped to keep my anxiety levels down.

  It seemed the big question was how Enfield got involved in the first place. There must have been a connection for years if he really was responsible for sharing with Riots the intel of the raid that killed Abigail. For him to remain under the radar, it meant he was as smart as he was lucky. I just hoped that finally his luck had run out, and that Mace could outsmart him.

  The McKenny-and-Riots connection, it seemed, was less of a surprise. They'd found the link between McKenny and Enfield, and the one between Enfield and Riots. It had since become a mission to pull all three together. Internal affairs wanted the whole association to be solid, so there would be no chance of Riots and the two individuals not going down. There could be no uncertainty in the takedown.

  We'd been at the office for a couple of hours, and unbelievably, I was getting cabin fever. "Cole," I called out, "can we get some fresh air?" He glanced quickly at Mace, who nodded and offered me a small smile. He was in his office talking with O'Leary and someone from IA.

  "Sure thing, Lena. Do you want to walk to the café and grab a coffee?"

  I nodded. There was a small café on the same road as the office. It was only a ten-minute walk, and a journey and a shop I'd visited a few times. I grabbed my credit card and phone and threw Mace a quick wave. He offered me a wink before turning his attention back to the conversation and the mountain of paperwork surrounding them. From what Mace had told me, they were getting closer and were chasing a lead on McKenny. He was the one they were struggling to pin something on. Being an architect on a building that just happened to make meth wasn't enough of a link, which I understood. They needed something concrete.

  We stepped into the sunshine and I inhaled deeply, feeling lighter already. While it was wonderful for Mace to be involved in the investigation—O'Leary had pulled a heap of strings to make that happen—as I was sure he would have struggled to let go, it still filled me with unease that he was too close. Yet I knew he needed to beat this thing to truly find peace. He'd never admit as much to me, especially as I knew he loved me and was happy, but the death of someone you loved, particularly under such brutal circumstances… I didn't know if that was something you ever got over.