Illusive

by Nina Levine

  Illusive

  Nina Levine

  Contents

  Untitled

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Also by Nina Levine

  Acknowledgments

  Illusive Playlist

  About the Author

  Untitled

  Join My Newsletter To Get New Release Alerts

  Dedication

  To the people we once were.

  It’s okay to leave the pain and hurt behind and step into our new skin.

  The past is part of us, part of our story, but it doesn’t have to be who we are today, and it doesn’t mean our story won’t get better.

  “Butterflies can’t see their wings. They can’t see how beautiful they are, but everyone else can. People are like that.” ~ Anonymous

  To Jodie,

  This book is yours.

  Sophia would not be as awesome as she is if I didn’t know you.

  You are the bomb.

  I’ve never written a character based on someone I know, and I didn’t realise I was until I was half way through.

  Except for the steps, that is… the steps are me because my girls have to have something of me in them.

  Thank you for being my friend.

  #SophiaIsShortForJodie

  #IWouldDoAOneNightStandForGriff

  #EatTheFuckingChips

  #RegroupingForGriff

  1

  Griff

  I settled back into the barstool and raised my beer to my lips, chugging the drink until there wasn’t any left in the bottle. Jerking my chin at the bartender, I indicated for him to get me another. I’d been here for two hours – he knew my drink and had it to me fast because he also knew I’d tip him for that, and in a city that didn’t do tips, and in a job that didn’t pay well, he was out to make every last cent he could. I knew that because this bar happened to be my local and I frequented it daily at the moment.

  Christmas fucking time.

  The time of happy families and presents and love and time together…

  Time.

  People had no fucking clue how little time they had left on this Earth, and they pissed that time away on mindless pursuits and petty arguments that, when all was said and done, didn’t mean a damn thing.

  I knocked back more of my drink, letting old memories take over my thoughts.

  My mother smiling as she served our traditional roast meal for lunch on Christmas day, my father settled in his armchair with his beer as he watched the cricket on Boxing Day, and my younger brother, Simon, playing with his Lego. He fucking loved that Lego, even as he got older.

  Yeah, Christmas at the McAllister’s was all about the food, the cricket and the goddamn Lego.

  Fuck.

  I lifted my drink to my lips and finished it.

  Why the fuck do you do this to yourself every fucking year?

  My hand squeezed the bottle as I placed it back on the counter. Staring at it, I thought about that question. This was the only time of the year I allowed these thoughts to come. They were out of bounds for the other fifty-one weeks.

  Why?

  Fuck knew, but what I did know was that as much as I had tried to move past what had happened to them, the murders of your family weren’t something you ever got the fuck over.

  And when those murders had taken place the day after Boxing Day, the memories of cricket and Lego and food didn’t surface quite as easily as the memories of blood and horror that a murder scene never let you forget.

  Yeah, the gift that keeps on fucking giving.

  I’d thought this year might be different. Madison and her Christmas party had almost dragged me away from my yearly ritual of trying to wipe the memories out with alcohol every day leading up to the anniversary, but in the end, nothing ever pulled me from it.

  Storm might be my family now, but sometimes, even family isn’t enough in life.

  Sometimes, all you have is you and the choices you’ve made, and the bed you choose to lie in.

  And I’d made my bed years ago.

  “You want another one?” the bartender asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

  I nodded. “Yeah, it’s gonna be a long night. Keep ‘em coming.”

  “Sure thing.”

  A pang of guilt hit me that I’d missed the Christmas party, but I quickly pushed it aside. I didn’t attend many of the club get-togethers so it wasn’t like they were used to seeing me at one. For some reason, though, this time felt different.

  The bartender saved me pursuing that line of thought when he placed another bottle of beer in front of me. “Thanks,” I said, and promptly swallowed a quarter of the bottle. And then a set of long legs caught my attention, and my gaze followed them up to a firm ass covered in denim shorts that – fuck me – would make a man give up a day doing that one thing he did that no one ever got to interfere with. I lazily drank more of my beer as I watched the woman exit the bar. Couldn’t even tell you what she wore on the top half because my eyes never left that ass and those legs.

  The things I could do to that ass.

  As the door swung closed behind her, my gaze zeroed in on something she’d dropped. I moved off my barstool, walked to the door, and picked it up. A piece of paper with an address scribbled in female handwriting – she’d likely need this, so I exited the bar in search of her. The muggy night air rushed at me, and I welcomed the warmth. Looking around the crowded car park, I eyed her to my left.

  “You dropped this on your way out,” I said, holding the paper out as I approached, trying like hell to keep my eyes on her face, rather than on her body.

  “Thanks,” she said as she took it from me, her eyes widening, and her body shrinking away from me. After quickly running her gaze over the paper, she looked back up at me and added, “I need this so I really appreciate you taking the time to bring it out to me.” Her voice wavered slightly, but she forced her words out.

  “No worries.”

  As much as she seemed like she wanted to get as far away from me as she could, her eyes narrowed on me and she asked, “Do we know each other? You seem familiar.”

  “Sweetheart, trust me, I’d know if we’d ever met, and we never have.” I finally gave up the internal battle to keep my eyes on her face, and dropped them to her body. Bad fucking move. This woman was made of lethal curves and hollows that I wanted to dedicate some serious time and attention to. The shorts and tight black v-neck she wore revealed them all.

  A neck I could wrap my hands around.

  Wrists I could decorate with rope.

  An ass I could paint red with my palm.

  My gaze shifted back up along her neck to her face, and my hand curled into a ball as I imagined gripping her long, blonde hair from behind and pulling her head back so I could sink my teeth into her neck.

  Marks on her skin, put there by me – the vision came out of nowhere and hit me fair in the gut.

  Fuck.

  “I don’t know, you seem so familiar,” she said with a shrug, grabbing my attention aga
in. And then she smiled, and god-fucking-damn if it wasn’t the sexiest smile I’d ever seen. “And you’re too good-looking for me to be getting mixed up with someone else.” Her voice held no more uncertainty of me, and her body relaxed.

  Time to get out of here; this woman might be turning me on, but everything about her screamed pure, and I was far from the kind of man who should be trusted with pure. Taking a step away from her, I spoke a little harder than I meant. “No, I can assure you we’ve never met.” I jerked my chin at her. “Have a good night,” I added before turning and striding back to the bar.

  Once inside and settled back on my stool, I finished my beer and ordered another. And attempted to put the blonde out of my mind. She was not the type of woman I pursued so it should have been an easy task.

  It was far from fucking easy.

  She’d stirred my deepest primal desires. From her easy smile to her trusting nature to the sense I’d gotten from her that she was untainted – it was like waving a red flag at a bull, and I was the bull, ready to take and bend and break.

  Just as I was envisioning a long night being taunted by not only the ghosts of my past, but also the blonde, my phone rang, distracting me. And fuck, the number flashing on caller ID stunned the hell out of me.

  “Danny,” I answered, wondering what the hell my cousin was doing calling me out of the blue after two years of no contact.

  “Michael,” he greeted me, his voice clear of emotion.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure?” I asked as I took a swig of my drink.

  “I’m giving you a heads up…the Bond case is finally going to trial and you may be called as a witness. I couldn’t find a way around it.”

  “Fuck,” I muttered as I ran through scenarios in my mind of how this could play out. Any way I spun it, not good.

  “Yeah, I thought you’d want to know, especially since it seems as though the media is all over this.” He paused for a moment. “Michael, if they call you, your name and identity will be splashed all over the media in Australia. There will be no way for you to avoid it.”

  I threw the rest of my beer down my throat and slammed the bottle down on the bar. “I fucking realise that, Danny,” I snapped.

  “Don’t take this shit out on me. I told you to get out of that club years ago. You had what you needed from them so I never could work out why you chose to stay. The boys and I can try to protect you from them if this all comes out, but there’s only so much our badge can do for you. Storm has a long reach, and if they want you dead over this, I’ve no doubt they’ll go to every length to make that happen.”

  I drew in a slow, steady breath, trying to keep my anger in check. “I am fucking Storm, Danny. I know how far our reach goes and I sure as fuck know how we deal with shit like this, so don’t try and tell me what I already know. I never wanted anything to do with that Bond case all those years ago, and I damn sure don’t want a thing to do with it now. You need to find a way to make it go away, and you also need to make sure nothing else comes back to haunt me. I’m done with that part of my life, and mark my fucking words, if you don’t fix this, you won’t like the ramifications.”

  Before he could respond, I ended the call. Then I paid my bill and stalked out of the bar. Staying here drinking was not a good idea in this frame of mind. Taking my frustrations out on a punching bag, however, was a fucking good idea.

  2

  Griff

  I walked into the clubhouse early the next morning with a pounding head and aching muscles that I’d thrashed last night during a brutal training session. I’d pushed myself to the brink with exercise, needing to feel the burn – needing to forget everything else for a few hours.

  Not many members had arrived by the time I got there, but I found Scott in the office going through paperwork. He glanced up at me. “You look like shit.”

  Dropping into the chair across from him, I rolled my shoulders in an attempt to unkink some of the knots there and grimaced. “That about sums it up. How was the party?”

  “Madison outdid herself. You missed a good night, brother, and by the looks of it, you possibly would have had a better time at the party.”

  “Highly likely,” I mused, “but I wouldn’t have been good for the party; not in the mood I’m in at the moment.”

  His brows pulled together. “You got something going on that you need help with?”

  Guilt flashed through me. Jesus, where the hell was all this guilt coming from? Not an emotion I was used to, I shoved it away. “No, I’ve got this. A week, two at the most, and I’ll be done with it.” I shifted in my chair to try and find a more comfortable position. “Where are we at today?”

  He leant back in his chair and scrubbed his face. I’d been watching Scott for weeks now and the stress the club had been under was written all over him. Dark circles sat under his eyes, his clothes hung a little looser on him from the weight he’d lost, worry lines creased his face, and he’d taken to not shaving which was something he’d never done in all the time I’d known him. “Ricky wants to meet today. Just you and me.”

  “Why? We’ve already met with him and come to an agreement.” After Marcus’s death, we’d agreed not to deal drugs in Ricky’s territory and he’d appeared happy with that arrangement. Of course, while we intended not to deal drugs, we’d been working towards ridding the world of that scum; we just needed a little more time to get the club ready for any blowback. Trust in Scott still sat low for a lot of members so he was building that back up, but it was a slow process. It felt like we were walking a tightrope of keeping Ricky at bay while repairing club ties. We were aware of Ricky’s playbook, and figured it was only a matter of time before he came for us.

  “I’ve got no fucking idea, but I’m guessing we’re gonna need to reassess where we’re at after it because I’m damn sure he wouldn’t be meeting just to have a catch up. The meet is at ten this morning so can you round up J and Nash for this afternoon to go over it all? I’ve got shit to deal with all morning and then I’ve gotta head over to Indigo and go through some things with Cody at about one so make it for after that. If it needs urgent attention, we’ll drop everything, so have them ready for that outcome too.”

  I stood. “Will do.” As I turned to leave the office, something struck me. Looking back at him, I said, “You don’t seem as on edge as you have been. What’s different?”

  He blew out a long breath. “I finally got Harlow to talk to me.”

  “Thank Christ for that,” I murmured. “She okay?”

  “Yeah, she will be. She just needs some time, but at least now I’m not wandering the fuck around bashing my head against the wall, getting nowhere, you know?”

  I nodded. “I know, and it’s good news, man.”

  Stepping out of the office, I closed the door behind me and headed into the kitchen to grab a coffee.

  Wilder stood at the counter with his back to me as I entered the room. Twisting to face me, he jerked his chin. “Morning, VP.”

  I’d hated being called that when I’d taken the title from Scott through deceit, but now that I’d earned it, I didn’t mind so much. “Morning.” I took in his disheveled appearance. “Did you have a late night?”

  He grinned. “Yeah. Madison sure knows how to throw a party.”

  “That your first one since you were patched?” We’d patched Wilder a couple of weeks ago.

  He nodded as he drank some of his coffee.

  “What time did she kick your sorry ass out?”

  His grin grew and he chuckled. “She didn’t; it was J who threw us out at about three this morning. Pretty sure the poor fucker’s balls had turned blue and needed taking care of.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re right,” Nash contributed as he joined us. “It’s a beautiful thing to watch - Madison stringing him out like that.”

  Stirring sugar into my coffee, I couldn’t stop the smile forming on my lips. “He’s nothing if not predictable when it comes to that woman.”

  Nash grinned at
me and nodded. “Very true, brother,” he said, acknowledging me in a way he hadn’t for weeks. Both Nash and J had been pissed off they weren’t clued in on the plan for me to take the Vice Presidency role from Scott, and had been vocal in that. I’d sensed a thawing in their attitudes toward me last week and it looked like we were making progress. Finally. That was a damn good thing – we needed everyone on board to make Storm strong again, and not to have the full support of our Sergeant-at-Arms and Road Captain hadn’t made this an easy task.

  Grabbing my coffee, I said to Nash, “You got a minute?”

  “I’ll grab a coffee and meet you in the bar,” he said.

  I nodded and then turned my gaze to Wilder. “I need you to do a security check on all of our businesses today. Make sure all the surveillance is working perfectly, ensure all the buildings are locked down tight, and also make sure the managers are reminded that shit could go down at any time. You good with that?”

  “Yep, I’m on it.” I liked the way Wilder never argued with a directive and the way he carried that directive out perfectly. He was also a stickler for attention to detail and I respected the hell out of that trait.

  I left them and found a table in the corner of the bar. My mind drifted to my family while I waited for Nash. However, instead of my thoughts centring on my parents and brother, today they focused on my cousin. I’d half expected him to show up at my place last night, but he hadn’t. In fact, I hadn’t heard from him since our phone call. I hoped that meant he would take care of what I’d told him to, because I really didn’t want to have to carry out my threat against him if he didn’t. I would, though, and I wouldn’t hesitate. I refused to allow anyone to jeopardise my life or my membership of Storm.

  Nash pulled up a seat across from me. “What’s up, Griff? And where the hell were you last night?”

  I watched him for a moment while I drank some coffee. “I had something to take care of, but I heard I missed a good time.”