Blacklisted

by Jay Crownover

  I was even intrigued by the way he smelled, like leather and sunshine, mixed with a hint of something that had to be gasoline or motor oil. It was an unmistakably masculine smell, and I was surprised by how much I liked it. It made me want to lean in closer and bury my nose in the crook of his neck so I could fully take it in and memorize it.

  At the moment the skin around his dark eyes was red and irritated, and he kept clearing his throat. He also repeatedly rubbed his nose, which made the tip of it bright pink. I felt terrible for catching him dead in the face with the Raid, but my survival instincts were at an all-time high and would more than likely remain that way until Ashby Grant was behind bars. He caught me by surprise when I’d already been questioning my trip into town for Cheetos and a Red Bull. I really was feeling a little hemmed in at Kody and Hill’s place, mostly because I couldn’t breathe without Kody asking me if I was okay. I appreciated her concern, but the way she watched me, both with confusion and concern, made me feel like my skin was paper-thin and too much of myself was being exposed. My emotions were already stretched to their breaking point, and I simply needed a breather to get my head together.

  Shot dug a knuckle into his eye, and I reached up to knock it away without thinking about the familiarity of the gesture. “Stop touching it. I told you that you’ll just make it worse.”

  Black eyebrows lifted in amusement and his mouth twisted into a grin. Belatedly, I realized that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to act so forward with the president of a biker gang. I’d already watched the man face down a barrage of bullets without being fazed, so there was no telling what he was capable of.

  “You said you started to take self-defense classes when your life went sideways. What exactly happened that made you think you have to be able to take someone out with whatever weapon you can find?” His voice was deep and smooth. The low rumble didn’t have any trace of an accent or a twang, letting me know he wasn’t a Texas native. In fact, I couldn’t pinpoint what his origins were.

  I sighed and pulled open my bag of cheesy puffs. “It’s a long story.”

  One strong shoulder lifted and fell as he slowed his pace to stay next to me. “We got time.”

  The walk wasn’t the longest, and the need to rush wasn’t as pressing as it had been when I got dropped off in town. That eerie feeling of being followed and watched was no longer making the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, but I wasn’t sure if that was because the threat was gone, or because of the man walking next to me. He was big and intimidating; however, his presence was surprisingly comforting. I felt safe when I was around him.

  I sighed again and licked the tip of my finger. “I like routine and predictability. I was always focused on school and then on work, so I never had time for friends or things that are frivolous and fun.”

  I gave him another look out of the corner of my eye to see what his reaction was. His expression didn’t change much, but it was hard to tell if he didn’t have a reaction or if he was just in pain from the bug spray.

  I squeezed the bag of snacks in my hand and heard the remaining few crunch into dust as I thought about how things had gone sideways so fast.

  “My best friend and I were both candidates for the chief ME position of our county. It was a huge opportunity, and it was unprecedented to have two female candidates for the job. A few months before they officially decided to offer either of us the job, strange things started happening with the cases I was assigned. The evidence went missing and turned up mislabeled. Some of my rulings surrounding cause of death came into question, and more than one court case relying on my testimony was suddenly dismissed. It was a huge deal, caused a media circus and a whole internal investigation, because my record was pristine. I wasn’t ready to walk away from my career and all I’d worked for just yet. But then on top of the trouble at work, someone started stalking me and making me think I was losing my mind. I really began to wonder if I’d actually made those kinds of mistakes and risked setting criminals and killers free.”

  I took a shaky breath and let it out very slowly as all the missteps and mysterious mishaps replayed in my mind.

  “I went to stay with my friend, the one who I was going up against for the promotion, because I didn’t feel safe alone. While I was at her place she kept mentioning to me that maybe now wasn’t the best time to advance my career if I was the one offered it.”

  I shook my head at my own cluelessness. “I should’ve realized how badly she wanted the job then, but I didn’t. I was naive and too trusting.”

  A bitter, broken laugh escaped, and I missed a step as Shot turned his head to look at me with obvious concern.

  It took a minute for me to get my head around the rest of the words because they hurt to say. “While I stayed with her, she also kept mentioning my mother’s health, which wasn’t good. I didn’t realize it at the time, but she was warning me what would happen if I got the job over her.”

  I released the bag of puffs when Shot pulled the mangled mess from my hands. I didn’t even realize I’d crushed the contents and crinkled the bag between my hands. I looked down at my orangey fingers and wiped them absently on my jeans.

  “My mother died shortly after I told Ashby that I was going to take the promotion.”

  I’d said the same thing to the Texas Rangers, and the FBI who investigated the case, but for some reason telling Shot on the simple walk to my apartment was harder. Grief clogged my throat and I felt the burn of tears at the back of my eyes. My fingers quivered, so I curled them into fists at my sides.

  “There were things about my mother suddenly passing that never made sense, but it wasn’t until it became clear that Ashby was trying to frame me for Conrad’s murder that I realized she more than likely had something to do with my mother’s death.”

  It still made my stomach turn when I thought about just how cold and inhumane the person I considered myself closest to ended up being. I would never forget how gleeful and deranged she sounded when she explained she was not only responsible for Conrad’s murder, but also the one behind everything that happened leading up to it. She couldn’t wait to gloat, and she’d made sure I felt the weight of her actions, all while the Lawtons stood by and watched their childhood home burn to the ground. It was just one more catastrophe she was responsible for. I wondered what it said about me that I became friends with Ashby in the first place. I hated that I’d been too blind to see who she really was and ultimately lost so much because of my own ignorance.

  Clearing my throat so I didn’t break down in front of Shot, I changed the subject and concentrated on moving forward instead of getting stuck in grief and regret. Each step I took was heavy, but I somehow managed to keep pace with the tall man moving next to me.

  “In the middle of dealing with my career crashing and burning and losing my mother, I learned who my father was and that I had several half siblings, all with their own ideas about how I should be handling things now.”

  I lifted my hands and let them fall dramatically to indicate how overwhelming it felt to suddenly be caught up in all of the Lawtons’ concern and care. I appreciated them, but I also felt helpless to give them what they wanted.

  “Case still wants me in protective custody, but it’s been months and Ashby is still on the loose, and I can’t just be under lock and key for my whole life. Kody acts like she wants to be my human shield, which is super sweet, but I don’t want anything to happen to her if Ashby decides she’s not done taking away the things that matter most to me. I know their intentions are good, but it’s overwhelming. And Crew, well, he’s honestly the only one of the Lawtons who still treats me like he’s not sure if I’m friend or foe. I honestly appreciate his caution. His reaction makes the most sense to me. He’s supposed to be planning a wedding, not burying his father and learning how to deal with a new sister.”

  Shot blew out another low whistle. “That’s some story.”

  I nodded silently in agreement, feeling like a balloon that had lost all its
air. It was the first time I’d laid all the heartbreaking details out for someone who wasn’t in law enforcement. It was the first time I’d let the exhaustion, fear, and frustration slip through instead of simply reiterating the facts. I tried my best to handle everything stoically, but inside I was anything but. I was feeling everything all at once and had no idea how to get a handle on so much emotion. Being honest with Shot about how hard it had been on me lately was as close as I’d come to some kind of catharsis since this whole thing began. I couldn’t put my finger on why he was so easy to talk to or why I hadn’t glossed things over the way I did with everyone else, but I was glad he let me get rid of some of the emotional weight I’d been carrying. He didn’t seem to be burdened by my baggage at all. As my apartment complex came into view, I responded to his wry statement: “I wish it was just a story. I hate that I had to live any of it.”

  The large man in leather and denim next to me offered a soft chuckle. “The key is the living part. As long as you’re living your life, she hasn’t won.”

  I faltered a step and blinked for a moment. “What do you mean?”

  Shot stopped walking and gave me a sharp look with his swollen eyes. “You mentioned more than once that you’re worried she is going to keep taking what’s most important away from you, but that’s exactly what you’ve let her do. You’re avoiding your new family. You haven’t gone back to work and cleared your name. You haven’t done anything to find closure where your mother is concerned. You are letting this woman control your life. She’s living in your head rent free and I bet she knows it.”

  I let out a startled sound because of his brutally honest words—and because he reached out and tapped the tip of my nose with one of his fingers. The move was playful and surprisingly sweet. He was touching me in the same familiar way I’d touched him to keep him from rubbing his eyes. I was never that comfortable with a stranger, or even someone I knew casually. I had no clue what to make of it.

  “If you really want to draw this woman out into the open, go back to your life. Go back to work. Get to know the Lawtons better. Get out of that shithole apartment. Take. Control. Of. Your. Life.” Shot bit out the words, and I felt the impact reverberate all the way down to my bones.

  Collecting my composure I took a step away from him and started to head for the apartment building. “Easy for you to say. You have an entire gang of guys ready to lay their lives down for you. You aren’t out there facing the world and your enemies on your own.”

  He growled low under his breath and reached out to catch my shoulder. “We’re a club, not a gang. And you don’t know me well enough to know what kinds of things I’ve had to face on my own.” There was a dangerous thread through his voice which made me instinctively want to put some serious space between us.

  I cleared my throat nervously. “You’re right. I don’t know, and I have no reason to. Getting involved in one of your club’s messes was enough for me.” I made sure to emphasize the word club to avoid poking at an obvious sore spot.

  I yelped when he used his hold on me to spin me around so we were fully facing one another. His impossibly dark eyes were intent and probing even with the whites being more of a rosy pink color.

  “Since you brought it up, why did you jump into the fray that night? From what you’ve told me you’re a straight shooter and a rule follower. Why do something that might endanger your medical license?”

  He sounded genuinely curious about my decision to get involved and I couldn’t blame him. My actions that night had been very out of character.

  I shook loose of his hold and cleared my throat again. “I couldn’t tell Kody no when she begged for my help. And once I got there, I couldn’t let you die. I was admittedly in way over my head with you guys, but once I was in, I was all in.”

  Shot chuckled at my response. “Guess it was my lucky day. But why didn’t you report the gunshot wound?”

  I froze and tried to recall why I’d talked myself out of following protocol that night. When I couldn’t come up with a valid reason for acting so out of character, I muttered, “Well, I wasn’t currently working in the ME’s office, so I wasn’t on duty of any kind. So it wasn’t really required or a breech of policy or ethics.” Which was true, but the real reason I didn’t report the wound was because I didn’t want to make things more difficult for him when he was already fighting so hard for his life. I was also slightly terrified that his club would do something horrible to me if I had reported it like I was supposed to.

  Before he could grill me any further, I turned to head toward my apartment, telling him, “You didn’t hesitate to pull me to safety when someone started shooting that day in the parking lot. I saved you. You saved me. That makes us even. The favor from the club is cleared. The slate is wiped clean as far as I’m concerned.”

  I wanted to make sure he knew we didn’t have any kind of realistic reason to interact in the future.

  I hitched a thumb in the direction of my place and pushed back the sudden rise of something that felt like sadness at saying a final goodbye to this man. My words were quiet when I told him, “I’m gonna run in, grab some stuff, and drive myself back to Kody’s. You don’t have to stick around anymore. I’m sure your vision is okay now. You should be able to ride your motorcycle with no issue. Once again, I apologize for overreacting.” I fought the urge to stick my hand out for him to shake. It seemed overly formal and silly, and I already felt clumsy and awkward around him. It wasn’t like I was trying to impress the biker, but it irked me that I always ended up making some kind of scene or needed rescuing when we were together.

  Shot’s dark eyebrows quirked and his lips followed. He was an outrageously good-looking guy, one who clearly knew his own appeal. The men I normally spent time around were confident in their abilities and skills. They used titles and bank accounts to brag. Shot needed none of that. He knew when he did something as simple as smile it made hearts foolishly start to race. He was cocky and self-assured, without that practiced charm and charisma so often found in men with high-powered and well-paying jobs, but the sexy swagger he had to spare was too potent to ignore and far more appealing.

  When I realized I was staring—because he had really pretty lips for such a rough and rugged man—I jolted and hoped I wasn’t blushing. I also hoped it wasn’t obvious that I couldn’t quit looking at his mouth.

  “Have you ever heard, ‘When you save a life, you’re responsible for that life until the favor is returned’?”

  I shifted my weight nervously from one foot to another and dragged my gaze away from the magnetic pull of his. “Of course, I’ve heard that. Everyone has.”

  He bent at the waist slightly, which brought us nearly eye to eye. My breath caught and I lifted a hand to my chest where my heart was pounding underneath my palm.

  “As of now, I’m responsible for you, Dr. Baskin.” It took me a second to realize he was referring to when he pulled me out of the line of fire in the parking lot. One of his dark eyes closed in a flirty wink as he straightened while I struggled to form an argument against his words. “Gonna be interesting to see how that plays out, isn’t it?” Before I could say anything, his hands landed on my shoulders and turned me around to face the apartment. “Go get your stuff. I’ll hang out here until you get into your car, just in case.”

  I started to protest, but I could tell he wasn’t going to listen to anything I had to say. Swearing softly under my breath I asked, “You’re just going to do whatever the hell you want regardless of what I say or do, aren’t you?”

  “Pretty much.” His grin turned into a full-fledged smile, and I swore I forgot how to breathe for a moment. It was unfair that a badass biker was blessed such a pretty, persuasive smile. How was that fair to innocent hearts everywhere?

  Huffing in frustration, I let myself into my apartment.

  I’d only ever been responsible for myself, and for my mother. Shot telling me he intended to be responsible for my well-being in any way made me dizzy and made me feel o
ff-center.

  I also couldn’t shake Shot’s theory that running away from my life was giving Ashby exactly what she wanted. I’d given up everything to try and play her game and didn’t have anything to show for it.

  Something needed to change, and it was slightly disconcerting that the revelation came from the last place I would’ve expected it to. Taking life advice from a guy I’d had to dig a bullet out of not too long ago probably wasn’t the brightest idea I’d ever had, but for some inexplicable reason, listening to Shot didn’t seem as scary as everything else happening in my life.

  Chapter 5

  Shot

  So this is the place, huh?” It didn’t look like anything special, and there was no effort to hide the Confederate flags that decorated the exterior. They weren’t being subtle, that was for damn sure.

  I pulled down the black face mask I’d worn on the ride from Loveless. It was a pretty drive out to the small town located near Lake Travis, but oddly desolate and empty once you got through all the subdivisions. It was a good place for both a clubhouse and a dive bar catering to a group of less than desirable individuals to set up shop.

  When we got word from another club that Jed Coleman was hiding out in the bar, I’d gathered a handful of my most trustworthy and lethal guys and hit the road. We didn’t really have a plan in place, other than to grab Jed Coleman and make him pay for what he’d done to me and the club. It still burned deep down in my gut that we’d lost two of our brothers because of Coleman. Once we had our hands on Jed, I’d figure out a proper punishment.

  “You can count on pretty much everyone inside the bar being armed, and a lot of them know how to fight. Last time my club clashed with them, a couple of my guys ended up in the ER. One lost an eye, and another lost a couple fingers on his hand. They play dirty.”