HANDS OFF MY WIFE_Black Cossacks MC

by Claire St. Rose

  Adam didn’t know what he was waiting for until he heard it. When he had left the hospital, he had tried to check in on Dakota, but had been blocked at every turn. He had checked out of county and had Joey drive him to the private hospital where Dakota was, but he wasn’t family and he wasn’t permitted inside. It was James Hastings who had found him, told him Dakota was well, but not up for visitors and sent him on his way.

  And then there it was, delete the phone numbers, end all contact. Dakota had used her father’s friend to end things. And, yet, Adam couldn’t blame her. He should have never touched her, never slept with her. He had been hired to protect her. She was a vulnerable woman who had just seen her father almost killed. She had been in a vulnerable place when Adam had met her; he should never have expected to have a long-term romance with her. Besides, what could he offer a girl like Dakota Kane?

  “I’m taking this to the bank, now!” Joey said the second James left. “Want to come?”

  “No, you go ahead. I think I might just go home and get some sleep.”

  “Yeah, I guess it would have been better to get this money without your face turning into hamburger meat, but beggars can’t be choosers, you know?”

  ***

  The door closed behind Joey and Adam took out his phone and one by one deleted the contacts for the Kane contract. He started with James Hastings and then the security company and went all the way through to the Kane Home for Boys. Then all that was left was Dakota’s number, his hand hovering over the delete button, but then it wouldn’t move.

  Maybe Adam wasn’t done with Dakota, maybe the dust would clear and they would see each other again. Yeah, and then what? He asked himself. He thought back to their late night drive, and what had happened afterward as he debated whether or not to delete Dakota Kane from his life.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Dakota sat at her desk in the Kane Home for Young Boys, the annual report sitting finished in front of her. She was chewing on her lower lip, something her mother had always chastised for her, a bad habit Dakota had never been able to break. She thought working on the report would have taken more of her time, but it had been done quickly and now she found herself with nothing to do but sit and think about Adam Mendel.

  She hadn’t heard from him in the two weeks since the attack. The bump on the right side her head, from where she had been slammed into a wall, had gone down; and her headaches were gone, but she still felt shaky on her feet. When Dakota had been released from the hospital, James Hastings had informed her that he had arranged for payment to Scarred Angels and ended the contract. Just like that, Adam, who had become this permanent feature in her life, was gone. She had gotten too used to him always being around, being a strong, silent figure in her vision’s periphery, always available to her. She found herself missing him more than she ever thought she would.

  They still had their one night in the car, and she couldn’t help but smile and shake her head at the memory. She still couldn’t quite believe that she had actually done that, had sex with her biker bodyguard in the backseat of her father’s car. It was almost too scandalous to believe. Every day Dakota checked the gossip section to see if anyone was talking about her relationship with Adam, but nothing ever showed up. He hadn’t told anyone and neither had she.

  Dakota had tried to call Adam. Well, she had pulled his number up in her phone and looked at it before changing her mind and deciding not to call. She had been a job to Adam, a job with a nice perk, but a job nonetheless. He clearly didn’t want anything to do with her anymore, not since the checks had stopped. It was her worst fear, but she still didn’t have it in her to blame him. They had one crazy night together and that had to be enough.

  “Are you still here?” Elizabeth asked, walking into the office. “I was just grabbing my stuff to leave. Please tell me we’re not taking another look at the report.”

  “No,” Dakota said with a smile, turning off her computer, “I’m just sitting around, idling.”

  “Is everything all right?” Elizabeth asked. “I heard about what happened, are you okay, going home, do you want me to come with you, or is there anything I can do?”

  “No, thank you,” Dakota said. She had been staying at her apartment in the city since they had caught the man who had attacked her and her father. She had been back to the Kane Mansion a few times since, getting it ready for her father to come home, hiring a live-in housekeeper and a nurse. But still, without Adam, she felt unsafe in that big house with its endless hallways and dark corner, sand she hadn’t been there after dark since.

  Slowly Dakota rose and gathered her belongings, pulling on a light coat and grabbing her purse. Saying goodnight to Elizabeth, Dakota stepped out into the cool night air. The small parking lot for the Kane Home for Young Boys was almost empty, only Elizabeth, Dakota, and the small night shift had cars parked there, but was well lit by street lamps. Still, it was late and dark and Dakota was alone, so she hurried to her car, pulling her keys out as she walked. Then she saw a flash to her right. She turned to glance over her shoulder. On the other side of the street a man stood, leaning against a car, lazily smoking a cigarette. It looked like he was watching her, his head following her progress across the parking lot.

  Dakota quickly unlocked her car, got in, checked the back seat, and locked the doors. Taking a deep breath, she looked back at the man leaning against the car. He was still there with his eyes on the ground, a cigarette dangling from his lips. Still watching the strange man, Dakota started the ignition, but he didn’t move as she began to pull out of the lot. She looked in her rear-view mirror, but the smoking man stayed put, waiting by his car. As she drove down Broad Street and toward her apartment she forced herself to calm down. The attacker had been caught and put in jail, no one was after her, and she was finally safe. Still, though, she couldn’t stop checking her mirrors, seeing dangers all around her.

  “Did you call him yet?” Marley asked as Dakota let her into her apartment later that night.

  “No, and I’m not going to. It was a work thing. That’s all and nothing else,” Dakota said as Marley followed her into her kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. Dakota couldn't help but look around. Did anything look odd or out of place? Was there a man hiding in her closet waiting to attack her, and who would save her if there were? She didn’t know how to tell anyone how alone she felt. She couldn’t burden her father. He was just starting to get better and Marley would only tell her to call Adam. Dakota had never felt like this before. She had never been the type of girl who needed a boyfriend or someone else around. She had never minded solitude until now.

  “Come on, you tell me about this crazy-hot sex you have with this guy, he saves your life, and that’s it? It’s just over?”

  “Apparently,” Dakota answered. “He hasn’t called me, Marley. We haven't had any communication. I think if he wanted to be with me he would have called me. But he hasn’t.”

  “So you call him. This why all those feminists had all those parades: so we could have the right to call hot guys instead of waiting for them to call us.”

  “I can’t even begin to talk about how wrong you are,” Dakota said, shaking her head.

  “I’m just saying, it’s a new century. You can call him.”

  “I can, but I’m not going to. He was working for me. It’s weird and awkward, and so we should just let it go. And that means you, too. No calling him. I know you stole his number from my phone.” He doesn’t want to be with me, Dakota thought. The thought sent daggers through her heart. Adam Mendel was the first man in a long time that she had opened up to and what did she have to show for it? Nothing but a broken heart. Every time her phone rang or she got a text, a small part of her hoped that it was him and every time it wasn't, it felt like that small part of her was dying.

  “Fine, as long as we go out tonight after this dinner for the senator and go find some cute boys we can talk to.”

  “Deal,” Dakota said, grabbing her purse, and leading the way. />
  The fundraiser was one of the most boring Dakota had ever been to. Her father had bought two tickets month ago, but he was still in the hospital and asked Dakota to take his place. She and Marley were the youngest people there by about fifteen years. Sitting at a table with four other people, including the senator and his wife wasn't exactly relaxing. The senator kept smiling at Dakota and asking about her father while his wife threw dangerous looks at Marley and her low-cut dress.

  “Education and tax reform, these are the foundations of my new platform in my run for senate, and I know, that with your help, I can make this state run better than it ever has before,” the senator was saying to an old woman at his elbow.

  “Did that make any sense to you?” Dakota whispered to Marley.

  “Please, I stopped listening after the salad course,” Marley answered, taking a deep drink from her glass. “Can we please leave?”

  “Not yet. We have to stay at least through the dinner.”

  “Boo,” Marley said, allowing a frown to settle on her face while she lifted her glass for another drink. “You know, after this, we could go to Scarred Angels.”

  “No.”. Scarred Angels, she wondered if Adam was there now. She wondered if there was someone like Marley there, some girl in a low-cut top throwing herself at Adam. Not that I care, she thought to herself, he can spend his time with whomever he wants. He made his money with me, now he’s free to spend it. Determined to not give Adam Mendel another second of her mental time. Dakota focused on the man in front of her, the senator her father was supporting, trying to think of anything other than Adam's hands on some other girl.

  As soon as dessert was over, Marley and Dakota beat a hasty exit, thanking the senator and his scowling wife, wishing them luck in the upcoming election. Since Dakota refused to go to Scarred Angels, they settled on a wine bar downtown. It was a Friday night at eleven o’clock; the bar was crowded with friends and strangers. Everyone was drinking and having a good time – everyone but Dakota. She smiled, and laughed, and talked, but none of what anyone said connected with her. It all felt so empty and pointless.

  “Dakota, oh my God, I can’t believe you were attacked. Are you okay? That is so crazy. I still can’t believe it.” It was her old friend from high school, Theresa, who was drinking with three guys Dakota had never met before. “My dad told me to ask who your bodyguard was, said he might want to hire him. Was it really a biker?”

  “Um yeah, it’s through that club Scarred Angels,” Dakota answered, this being the last thing she wanted to talk about. She didn’t think she could handle seeing Adam with Theresa, opening doors for her, driving her around, watching her every movement. Would he sleep with her, too? No, Dakota was pretty sure that having to experience that would drive her mad; she would have to leave the state if it happened. She couldn't handle the idea of Adam guarding someone she knew.

  “Cool, a biker bodyguard, very unique. I prefer ex-military for protection, of course," one of the guys said, “I’m Chad, by the way. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about your father.”

  Dakota forced a smile onto her face and reached out to shake Chad’s hand. He enveloped her hand with his, but his hand was soft and his handshake weak. Dakota frowned as she watched Chad’s eyes travel up and down her body like she was a piece up for auction.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.

  Dakota looked at the man in front of her, but boy would have been the better word choice. He was dressed head to toe in Brooke’s Brothers and there was no grease under his fingernails. It looked like he had never lifted anything heavier than five pounds in his life. And after the way he had just looked at her the last thing she wanted was a drink from him. “No, but thanks. I think I’m going to call it a night,” Dakota said, slipping away from him and into the crowd.

  “What’s wrong with you? Chad’s cute,” Marley said grabbing Dakota and pulling her aside.

  “He’s not really my type.”

  “And who is your type? Hot biker’s that work for you?” Marley countered.

  “Stop it,” Dakota said.

  “I think you’re into the bodyguard. I think you’re really into him, like you might love him.”

  “It was one night, a one-time thing,” Dakota said. “Drop it, I’m not into him, and I’m not calling him, and Chad is gross. I can do better than that.”

  “Fine,” Marley said. “But I think it’s crazy you’re letting pride get in the way. Why does it matter if he calls you or you call him? You clearly have feelings for him.”

  “He was working for me, he was doing a job, the job is over now, and I have to let it go,” Dakota said, grabbing her purse and heading out the door. “Have fun tonight, but I’m tired, so I’m just going to go home and go to bed.”

  She stepped out into the busy city streets before Marley could say another word. But once she was out, she didn’t feel like returning to her empty apartment. But in truth, she had nowhere else to go, so she slowly walked home, occasionally looking back to make sure no one was following her.

  It was late when Dakota finally got home. Sighing, she looked out the window to the beautiful view of the city her apartment provided. It was late. She should have been tired, but instead she was wide-awake with nothing to do. I could take a drive, she thought to herself with a sad smile. But she knew it wasn’t the drive she had liked that night a few weeks ago; it had been the company.

  Dakota slipped out of her strapless black dress and put on a pair of comfortable pajamas. In her darkened bedroom she fell into bed, snuggling in between her sheets. She realized that she and Adam had never had the chance to lie in bed together. They had made love in a car and then been interrupted by a man who had tried to kill her. She had almost forgotten that she had been going to find Adam to ask him to join her in bed when the attack happened. She wondered what it would feel like to have him next to her, his arms wrapped around her. She wondered what it would be like to have a boyfriend who drove himself around, who did repairs around the house, who rode a Harley to his club instead of taking a black car to the office. A guy who would just drive the night away with her.

  Stop it, she said to herself. You’re not going to call him, so stop fantasizing about it. She sighed heavily and rolled over onto her back. She hadn’t been sleeping well, she kept hearing what she thought were footsteps or doors opening and closing and she had to remind herself that it was just other people in the building. There was nothing to be afraid of, her attacker was in jail, and life could finally go back to being normal.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Running a club was never boring, and Adam was thankful for that. He had never wanted a job where he spent all of his time sitting on his ass in front of a computer. He had never wanted to have to go to endless meetings in conference rooms or wear a suit every day. He loved the club, but it was still a job and there were parts he didn’t like. Emptying out the club after closing was one of them.

  Per city laws, they couldn’t serve alcohol after two in the morning. No alcohol meant no money; last call was at one thirty, and at two the lights came on and the music was turned down. There were always those people who would boo and yell for the lights to be turned down and the music up, people begging to keep the party going. While Adam appreciated that there were people who didn’t want to leave, the law was the law. As people finished their drinks and made their way out into the night, the club slowly emptied. At three o’clock, the bright lights came on and the music turned off; this was the cue for all the bouncers to start sweeping the club. Kids making out in the booths, passed out in the bathrooms, smoking weed in back corners, group by group, they were found and sent out into the night.

  For certain people, though, the rules were different; Andre Nichols was one of those people. Even though the club was emptying out, fresh drinks were still appearing at his table where he was drinking with two other men and four women. Andre was tall and strong, he and Adam went to the same gym, his dark skin shone under the bright lights,
and he smiled when Adam approached him.

  “Good night?” Andre asked.

  “Couldn’t ask for better,” Adam answered.

  “Not that it matters, I heard about you saving that Kane girl’s life, heard her father appreciated it in a monetary way.”

  “Business was good,” was Adam’s only reply.

  “Moses,” Andre said to one of the men at the table, “take these ladies to the car. I’ll be there momentarily.”

  “You got it, boss,” Moses said, leading the group away.

  “Take a seat, Adam,” Andre said. “I might have something for you.”

  Adam sat across from Andre. His face had almost entirely recovered from the fight with Dakota’s attacker. The bruise under his eye was gone and he had finally been allowed to take the bandage off his nose; but he still hurt. His cracked ribs made it impossible to do anything too physical and he still winced if anything touched his face, but he knew those were temporary. He was ready to get back to work, to hit the gym, ride his bike, and forget about Dakota Kane.