Last Mile

by Katie Ashley

  I shook my head. “I said we had to tell a secret, not go into a bunch of bullshit detail about the secret.”

  “But you answered my questions about boxing. Why won’t you answer this one?” Stepping closer to me, she said, “Is the big, bad biker boy afraid to share?”

  “I share myself just fine,” I countered with a smirk.

  “Physically I bet you spread yourself around, but I’m talking about emotionally. Would it really kill you to explain to me why you want to open your own shop?”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “You’re shitting me, right?”

  “I’m not exactly sure what ‘shitting’ is, but I’m pretty sure I’m being sincere when I say that I want to hear about the shop.”

  Bringing my free hand to my face, I scratched my chin in surprise. Having a woman interested in something about me other than fucking was certainly a first. From the start of our conversation, Sam had seemed genuinely interested in my life. I couldn’t imagine she was pulling my chain. “You really mean it?”

  Samantha grinned. “Yeah, I do.”

  I drew in a deep breath. “Okay, then, here it is. I love rebuilding old, broken-down bikes. I love making some former pile of junk into something amazing. So I want to open a shop where I can sell these rebuilt bikes. You know, something that is just mine—nothing to do with my brothers or the club.” Once I finished, I couldn’t bring myself to look her in the eye. I almost jumped when I felt her hand on my shoulder. When I dared to meet her gaze, I found that she was smiling sincerely at me.

  “I don’t know why you didn’t want to tell me about that. It sounds like a fantastic idea—one that you could make money at as well as doing what you love.”

  I bit my tongue to ask her once again if she was shitting me. Instead, I returned her smile. “Thank you. It means a lot when people take me seriously. I haven’t gotten a whole lot of that from my family over the years. Of course, sometimes I haven’t given them a whole lot of reasons to take me seriously.”

  “Being the youngest means you get shit on a lot, huh?”

  “How did you know I was the youngest?”

  Samantha waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, Marley told me about your brothers, Deacon and Rev, when he was telling me all about the club. He’s really interested in the club and maybe one day patching in. He’s talked about it a lot to me.”

  “I’m glad to hear he’s interested. He’ll need to keep up his spirits to get through the prospect phase.”

  “It’s a pretty shitty period, huh?”

  “Oh yeah, the worst. Especially when your dad is the president and your two older brothers are officers. You tend to catch even more hell to prove yourself.”

  “Poor baby of the family.”

  “You the youngest, too?”

  Shaking her head, Samantha said, “I probably shouldn’t answer your question unless you sink a ball. I hate being a rule breaker.”

  I groaned. “I’m regretting coming up with this damn game.” I then leaned over the table. “Red eleven.” Once the ball was securely in the pocket, I turned back to her. “Now answer my question.”

  “I understand where you’re coming from because I’m the youngest of my family, too.”

  “Go on,” I instructed.

  She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Fine. I have an older brother and sister. Growing up, I was never taken seriously by them. Whenever I said what I wanted to do in life, they would tell me I would never make it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I was a girl.”

  “What did you want to do that being a girl mattered?”

  Samantha’s face suddenly flushed, and she ducked her head. It was almost as if she was embarrassed that she had told me so much, which seemed out of place for the confident woman she was.

  When she finally looked at me, she smiled. “Your turn.”

  “Oh, no. Not until you answer me about what you wanted to do in life. And don’t think you’re getting out of the emotional stuff.”

  She twisted the pool cue between her hands while simultaneously twisting her lip between her teeth. “More than anything in the world, I wanted to be like my dad.”

  At her vague response, I prompted, “And what did he do?”

  Staring into my eyes, she replied, “He took out the bad guys.”

  “So you wanted to be a cop?” When she bobbed her head, I said, “I take it you aren’t one.”

  “No. I do the books for a construction company.”

  The answer she gave felt almost rehearsed, and I could tell she had no passion for the job the way she had for law enforcement.

  “A secretary sounds like a good profession. Maybe not as noble as cop, but it’s still important.”

  “Interesting to hear you say that.”

  “Because I’m supposed to be an outlaw who hates cops, right?”

  “I didn’t say that,” she protested.

  “While I should be pissed at you for your small worldview of bikers, I’m going to let you off the hook.”

  Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “You are?”

  “Yep. Going to bust my ass to prove to you how wrong you are.”

  “Is that right?”

  “It sure as hell is.”

  After staring at me skeptically, Samantha smiled. “Okay. I’ll take your challenge and let you try to change my mind.”

  “Should we shake on it?”

  She shifted the pool cue to her left hand and then offered me her right. As we shook hands, I couldn’t help shuddering at the soft feel of her skin against mine. When we were done, Sam said, “I guess it’s my turn again?”

  “This game is bullshit.”

  Samantha snorted. “Yeah, well, it’s your bullshit, since you came up with it.”

  I tossed my cue onto the table and crossed my arms over my chest. “Then as the creator of this game, I say it’s all bullshit, and we should answer each other’s questions without earning them.”

  Samantha laughed. “I never pegged you for a quitter.”

  “I’m not a quitter. Just curious about you.”

  Tilting her head at me, Samantha asked, “Why?”

  “Because I find you very interesting.”

  “You find me interesting or you find my tits and ass interesting?”

  My jaw dropped at her audacity. Not wanting to let her get the upper hand, I replied, “If I had to answer truthfully, I would have to say it’s a toss-up between you and your assets.”

  “An honest man. How refreshing,” she mused.

  “Admit it. You’ve enjoyed getting to know me and my emotional shit.”

  Samantha grinned. “Yes, I have. But there could be even more under the surface. Like how you’re so in touch with your feelings that you cry at sad movies.”

  I wagged a finger at her. “Actually, it’s that sad-as-hell ASPCA commercial with the pitiful-looking dogs and cats that gets me crying.” Jesus, did I actually just admit that? This woman could make me sing like a canary if she wanted to.

  Samantha’s dark eyes widened. “Really? I cry at that, too. I have to change the channel the minute I hear the depressing piano music.”

  “I guess it’s safe to say that one thing we have in common is a love for animals.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Next time you come here, I’ll have to take you to see Poe.”

  “Who is Poe?” Samantha asked curiously.

  “He’s a deer that Rev and his wife, Annabel, raised after his mother was killed.”

  “That is too crazy.”

  “Yep. He’s an adult now, but he’s so spoiled he still comes around to get attention . . . and some ground corn.”

  Samantha laughed. “I would love to see him.”

  “Then it’s a date.”

  Just as Samantha stared at me in surprise, Marley asked, “What’s a date?”

  I whirled around to see he had finally returned from getting the keg with Joe. “Oh, Samantha wanted to see my brother’s pet deer
.”

  Marley grinned. “No shit. A pet deer? For real?”

  “Yeah, for real.”

  “You need to count me in, too.”

  “Then it’s a double date,” I said. A double date? What the hell are you thinking, you douche?

  “That would be more like a threesome than a double date, wouldn’t it?” Samantha asked. When my gaze snapped to hers, a tantalizing look twinkled in her eyes. It was the kind of look that had the ability to make me feel like a fumbling teenage boy instead of a very experienced man.

  After clearing my throat, I replied, “I guess so.”

  Marley chuckled. “Leave it to my Sam to say something inappropriate.” He then slid his arm around Sam’s waist and drew her closer to him. “My girl is something else, isn’t she?”

  I felt the heat of Samantha’s gaze on me as I replied, “Yeah, she is.”

  “I’m glad. I hoped you would get along.”

  Samantha smiled up at him. “You have nothing to worry about, babe, because Bishop and I get along really well.” She pinned me with her dark eyes. “Don’t we?”

  “Yeah, we do.” With my mouth feeling unusually dry, I said, “Why don’t we go try out the new keg?”

  “Sure,” Marley replied.

  We ambled over to the bar, and Joe quickly filled us three foamy beers. Holding his glass up, Marley said, “Here’s a toast to new friends.”

  Samantha snickered. “You can be such a lame ass sometimes.”

  “But you like me anyway,” Marley countered.

  The word “like” surprised me. I wondered why he hadn’t said “love” instead. Maybe their relationship wasn’t as serious as I thought it was. Of course that still didn’t give me the right to be lusting after Samantha.

  “True,” she said as she raised her glass.

  When I brought my mug up to clink with theirs, a feeling of dread pricked its way over my skin. Deep down, I knew this friendship would bring nothing but trouble and heartache. But in spite of all that, I drank to it.

  FIVE

  SAMANTHA

  The ride back from the Raiders clubhouse held an entirely different sense of anxiousness than I had felt earlier in the night. Part of my job was always preparing for the unexpected—to have a plan B and C to execute in case plan A failed. But after all the research and all the profiling, Bishop Malloy had been the epitome of unexpected, and that fact unnerved me completely.

  As I held tight to Gavin’s well-defined abs, I pictured Bishop’s toned muscles flexing as he took a shot at the pool table. Although he was quite a sight to behold, it wasn’t Bishop’s physical attributes that had my mind reeling. It was discovering that he had a deeply caring side. As sergeant at arms in the Raiders, he was called upon to deliver punishment from the club, I knew. While his body was built for being an executioner, his eyes had held such kindness and compassion as we spoke. And that was not at all what I had been expecting or prepared for.

  Seeing him holding his nephew had momentarily thrown me off my game. Anyone would find a hardened biker cooing over a baby a little disconcerting. Couple that with the fact that most women find a man with a baby the equivalent of emotional kryptonite, and it was no wonder I had been unnerved. Recognizing Bishop’s paternal side was probably the first time I allowed myself to really see him as a person—one whose love for his family and friends was the reasoning he used to justify some of the illegal and immoral things he did.

  Somehow I had managed to get my game face back on. He had taken the bait when I played him like a fool by overtly coming on to him, but he seemed conflicted by an inner turmoil. I had expected him to be the type of man who didn’t give two shits about whether a woman was already involved with someone else—that he would see nothing wrong with taking me from Marley. After all, Bishop was an officer in the club, and to the Raiders, Gavin was no one. I’d read sickening articles where some MCs ordered prospects to let them “break in” their wives and girlfriends. If they didn’t comply, then they were thrown out. In the back of my mind, I had built up an image of Bishop being that despicable.

  But Bishop had surprised me by backing off as many times as he did. I had to spend only five minutes with him to realize he could never be as horrible as I had envisioned him. In the end, he would be tougher to break than I thought because he possessed a moral compass I hadn’t originally anticipated.

  It was that very moral compass that unnerved me. For the first time in my career, I had encountered a tiny amount of dread in the pit of my stomach about continuing the case. Usually, after I spent a few hours undercover, I was champing at the bit to get back in the field to bring the bad guy down. In my mind, tonight had somewhat blurred the lines, and I knew that I needed to get ahold of myself pronto. I had to remember that while Bishop had somehow evaded jail time with just probation, he was still a criminal, and criminals had to be punished.

  Gavin eased the bike off the main road into the almost-deserted Waffle House parking lot. Through the window, we could see where Peterson sat at a booth—his shirt and tie slightly disheveled after the long day. Since we hadn’t been wired, Peterson had set up this late-night debriefing to ensure that nothing, not even the smallest detail, went unanalyzed.

  After I slid off the back of the bike and took off my helmet, I turned around to find Gavin staring expectantly at me. “What?” I demanded.

  “You’ve been awfully quiet since we left the clubhouse.”

  “Excuse me for not realizing I needed to converse with you. For fuck’s sake, I’ve been on a motorcycle going sixty down a country road. If I’d opened my mouth, I would have caught a bunch of bugs in my teeth.”

  When I started for the building, Gavin didn’t follow me. Whirling around, I growled, “You’re seriously starting to piss me off, McTavish!”

  “I just want to hear you say it before we go in.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I asked, “And what is it exactly that I’m supposed to say? If it’s ‘thank you’ for earlier, then by all means thank you for letting me get my shit together and for not ratting me out to Peterson.”

  Gavin closed the gap between us. “Nope. That’s not it at all.”

  “Then what is it?” I eyed him suspiciously. “Did they slip something into your drink at the roadhouse to make you act so fucking weird?”

  The corners of Gavin’s lips twitched as though he was fighting a smile. “Admit it. You liked Bishop.”

  My heartbeat drummed so loudly in my chest that I was sure Gavin must have heard it. How the hell had he been able to sense my dilemma? Playing it cool, I questioned, “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Yes, but I’m trying to process why in the hell you would say such a thing out of nowhere.”

  “The reason you were so quiet on the way over here is that your mind was racing. I can always tell when you’re overanalyzing something.”

  With an eye roll, I said, “You’re so full of shit.”

  “After all that thinking, you realized that at the end of the day, you found Bishop Malloy completely different from how you had perceived him. And though you were on a job, you still found that you enjoyed yourself there tonight.”

  I slowly shook my head in disbelief. While my anxiety sent a cold rush pricking down my spine, I masked any inner turmoil I felt with a totally impassive expression on the outside. Although Gavin and I both knew each other inside and out, I still couldn’t believe he had been able to guess what I was feeling so easily. I sure as hell hoped I wasn’t becoming transparent, because the last thing I needed was for Peterson to ride my ass about it.

  “Once again, you’re full of shit,” I said.

  Holding up his hands defensively, Gavin said, “Look, it’s all right to like him, Sam. He’s a helluva likable guy with a good sense of humor. I’ve seen that for myself since I’ve been spending time with him.”

  “But it’s different for you.”

  Gavin’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”


  I sighed and kicked one of the loose pieces of gravel with my boot. “If I like him, there’s a different set of issues than there is for you.”

  “Because he’s straight, and you’re coming on to him to get the job done?”

  “Yep. That pretty much sums it up.”

  Gavin grinned at me. “I just said you liked the guy, Vargas, not that you were ready to have his babies.”

  I couldn’t help laughing at Gavin’s summation. “The situation’s escalated pretty quickly if I’m ready to have his babies.”

  “You know what I meant.” He nudged his shoulder against mine. “So quit worrying, ’kay?”

  “The thing is, I let myself get too comfortable with him while we were talking.”

  Gavin’s smile faded. “What do you mean?”

  Groaning, I covered my eyes with my hands. “We were playing this stupid get-to-know-you game, and when trying to connect with him about being the youngest of the family, I let it slip that my siblings didn’t think I could do what I wanted when I grew up. When I realized what I’d done, I covered my ass by saying I wanted to be a cop.”

  When I dared to look at Gavin, he was once again grinning at me. “Jesus, Sam, you’re entirely too hard on yourself. For a minute, I thought you had given him your badge number or some bullshit. That was barely a slipup.”

  “You’re too forgiving when it comes to me.”

  “Fine. You want the truth?”

  Now it was my turn to groan as he did the familiar bit with me from A Few Good Men. “Yeah, I can handle the truth.”

  “My first undercover case, I let it slip where I really lived—almost blew the whole damn thing.”

  I widened my eyes in disbelief. “You never told me that.”

  “Maybe I didn’t want to look bad in front of my new partner,” he said with a wink.

  “Thanks for telling me now.”

  “You’re welcome. Now we better get inside before Peterson wonders what the hell we’re doing out here.”

  As Gavin started for the door, I blurted, “He’s not a monster.”

  Glancing back at me over his shoulder, Gavin looked confused. “Who, Peterson?”

  I shook my head. “No. Bishop.”