Hide Your Crazy (KPD Motorcycle Patrol Book 1)

by Lani Lynn Vale

  The woman with the messy, curly blonde hair, big blue eyes, and freckles splattering her cheeks. She was fucking cute.

  “I’m walking my dog,” I supplied helpfully.

  She pursed her lips, and then her eyes dropped, seeming to take in the dog at my side for the first time.

  “Pretty,” she said. “All white.”

  I nodded, then gestured to her dog. “All black.”

  She shrugged.

  “Have a good one.”

  Then she walked away, swaying those luscious hips as she went.

  I watched her walk away, and then Sister barked, bringing me back to the here and now, and not the contemplation of the woman’s ass.

  “Sorry, girl,” I said, starting to walk once again. “Thank you.”

  Sister was such a good girl. If I could have handpicked every single attribute that I wanted my dog to have, Sister had every single one of them and then some.

  “Bastard,” I heard muttered once she thought she was far enough away.

  I turned and slowed, Sister jerking slightly on the leash as she came to a halt with me, and glared at the retreating back.

  “Did you say something?”

  Heat flushed up her neck and went straight to her cheeks.

  “No, not a word,” she lied.

  I gave her one of those looks that clearly said that I didn’t agree with her, and then glanced down at where she’d been standing not moments before.

  I grunted. “Your dog just shit.”

  Her brows furrowed and I pointed in the direction helpfully. “That bag in your hand was hanging on the post for a reason, darlin.’”

  She bared her teeth at me.

  Grinning, I started walking again, heading for the stairs that led up to the apartment complex that I was temporarily living at.

  They were what you would call…in need of improvement.

  Though the trail that ran behind the apartment was new, the apartments were not. In fact, they were so old that I was surprised that the trail would’ve been built so close to them. There’d been many times over the past couple of years that I’d worked for Kilgore PD that I’d run calls at this particular apartment complex, and there wasn’t one redeeming quality that I could find about them other than the cost of rent was cheap.

  Then again, that was what a newly divorced man needed when his wife took him to the cleaners on the way out the door.

  Passing the sign that said, ‘Run where you live,’ I took the stairs two at a time and headed to my new home, the last unit on the right. It was the one I’d handpicked, and nobody besides a neighbor I never saw lived in this particular unit.

  Turnover rates for this complex were high, and they tried to fill up the ones closer to the front of the complex, farther away from the tree line, because those apartments were in better shape than the ones like I was now living in.

  I’d just made it to the top of the stairs, and was inserting my key into the lock, when I saw a woman—the same woman I’d just been talking to only moments before—walk through the parking lot, heading for the same damn unit as mine.

  Except, instead of coming up the stairs after me, she went below them, and ignored me as she did. I heard the door down below creak open, a muttered curse, and then the door close shortly after.

  So, she was my neighbor. How…interesting.

  The poor girl. Knowing that she was underneath me gave me pause as I briefly felt sorry for the fact that she was below me.

  Unfortunately for her, I paced a lot at night.

  PTSD was a bitch.

  I hoped she enjoyed listening to me walk, because she was about to hear it a lot…and maybe already had.

  I’d been in this apartment for two weeks now, and not once had I met her or even heard her come or go.

  ***

  I’d just made my fourth pass, bathroom door to hallway to living room to front door and back again when I heard the tapping.

  At first, I wasn’t sure what it was.

  It wasn’t loud enough to be much, and I was on the top floor, so it couldn’t be from something dropping or someone walking, so initially, I didn’t give it much thought.

  After my pause at the onset of the light knocking, I started the cycle again, not stopping until I heard the sound again.

  Frowning, I continued my pacing but stopped when I finally realized what it was.

  Tapping—from the floor beneath my feet.

  My brows lowered.

  Remorse flowed through me as I tiptoed across the floor, and snatched my keys from the side table that was next to my bed.

  I’d go for a walk instead…maybe then I could get these nightmares out of my fuckin’ head.

  Chapter 3

  You had me at ‘make it look like an accident.’

  -Katy’s secret thoughts

  Katy

  I stared at the ceiling, wondering if I’d done something to God to make him hate me.

  Three weeks ago, I’d moved out of my old apartment into this one because my old neighbor liked to hold orgies at all hours of the night.

  Now, I had a pacer above me that never slept.

  “What in the hell have I done to deserve this?” I asked the ceiling.

  Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Shuffle to the left. Step. Step.

  Step. Step. Shuffle to the right. Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Step.

  Over and over again it went.

  It was on my second hour of listening to it when I finally decided enough was enough.

  Grabbing the broom that I’d gone and gotten from the kitchen, but hadn’t worked up the courage to use over the last two hours, I walked to the middle of my bedroom and came to a stop at the foot of my bed.

  Step. Step. Step. Step.

  Then, with trepidation, I lifted the broom and tapped on the ceiling.

  Lou, who’d been on the end of my bed sleeping blissfully, started to bark.

  I whipped my head around and growled. “Quiet!”

  He settled down into a low growl, but the stepping, thank God, had stopped.

  At least, it did for all of twenty seconds.

  Then it resumed again.

  Step. Step. Shuffle to the left.

  So, I tapped the broom a little bit harder, biting my lip.

  Whoever this man was, and it was a man because no woman I knew drove a motorcycle and had size fourteen boots she left by her front door, he had a problem that he needed to kick. Fast.

  I couldn’t live like this.

  If this continued, I’d have to move out again.

  At least the screaming orgies were easy to tune out and only lasted an hour tops.

  This had been going on for over two, and it wasn’t likely to end any time soon if my luck held out.

  The steps became worse, harder and angrier, and I sighed.

  Allowing the broom to fall into the middle of the floor, I looked at my bed longingly.

  Tomorrow was my first day at a funeral home in Bear Bottom, Texas as a medical examiner.

  It was my dream job. My every single hope and dream was coming true, and I was supposed to be there in a little less than eight hours.

  Well, kind of. My dad had gotten me the job.

  I wasn’t sure if I was offended or happy that I’d gotten it and he’d taken the time to convince the owner that I would be a good fit for her.

  And to top it all off, it was only about a short drive away from me.

  Thinking once again that I needed to not overthink it, I sighed in exasperation.

  So, my dad had gotten me a job

  He’d gotten me a lot of them. And most of them had been good!

  Grabbing my thick blanket and pillow on the bed, I tugged them off and pulled them behind me out of the room and straight out the front door.

  Once I was there, I closed the apartment door, then sat down in my outdoor Papasan chair that I’d just procured from a garage sale two weeks ago.

  Once comfortably ensconced in the chair, I closed my eyes, and
tried to ignore the biting chill.

  I’d successfully mastered the maximum effort of relaxation that would slowly lull me into sleep when I heard Lou scratch at the door.

  “Goddammit,” I growled in frustration, levering myself up.

  Once he was outside with me, I pointed to the corner of the concrete and said, “Stay.”

  He gave me a bored look and walked behind the chair instead, curling up and laying down on the bag of potting soil I’d bought at the store last night.

  Rolling my eyes, I sank back into my chair, only to immediately lever myself up again and run inside for my phone.

  When I got back, Lou was in my spot.

  “Get off,” I grumbled, snapping my fingers.

  He gave me a loud doggy yawn.

  I growled, grabbed his collar, and drug him out.

  He came somewhat nicely and grumbled and whined the entire time, only to go lie on the potting soil once again with a groan.

  Once I was back in my seat and covered up, I closed my eyes, pushed my phone partially underneath of me, and blew out a ragged breath.

  When I woke up once again, it was to find myself staring at a man that was clearly not supposed to be on my front porch.

  “What are you looking at?” I snapped at the man that’d given me my ticket two afternoons ago.

  He looked at me where I was lying on the chair, and his brows furrowed.

  “Why are you sleeping outside?” he questioned me.

  His eyes flicked around the apartment complex, but seeing as my alarm hadn’t even gone off yet, nobody would be out and about. The majority of the people that lived in this complex were young and didn’t get moving on a Saturday morning early unless there was a drug bust.

  Which, from my knowledge, hadn’t happened this month yet.

  If there had been, I’d have heard about it.

  “Because some loser in the apartment above me doesn’t know how to stop pacing at night,” I answered. “Did somebody call the cops on me sleeping out here?”

  I tried, I really did, to look at anything but at the man that was in full uniform, standing not even five feet away from me.

  He shook his head.

  The movement made the muscles in his jaw flex and bunch, bringing my gaze to his well past five o’clock shadow.

  The beard was gone, and in its place was a rather attractive length of growth.

  It wasn’t a full beard, but it was enough of one to see that he didn’t shave it. Likely he buzzed it to that length if I had to guess, when it got to a certain point.

  It was just long enough to call the start of a beard, and short enough that it didn’t completely take away from the line of his jaw, and the fucking dimple on his chin.

  Oh, God. He had an ass chin.

  I loved ass chins!

  With his glasses not covering his eyes, I could see that the irises were the palest shade of gray I’d ever seen. Pairing those beautiful eyes with the dark shade of his hair, hair that looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and the sun-kissed color of his skin, he was an all-around knockout. Though, if the muscles peeking out from his uniform were anything to go by, he was way past a knockout. More like a thirteen on the one to ten scale.

  “Nobody called the cops,” he answered, pointing behind him. “I saw your dog out, and thought to come ask you why he was, only to find you knocked out on the fuc-freakin’ porch.”

  My brows rose. “You saw my dog? Why were you here?”

  He pointed above me at the apartment over our heads. “I’m the pacer.”

  My brows rose.

  “Then you already know why I’m outside, don’t you?”

  His lips thinned. “I’m sorry.”

  I shrugged. “It’s okay,” I said. “Is that a habit?”

  His gray eyes flitted away.

  “Unfortunately,” he mumbled.

  I bit back my groan.

  “I guess if you can’t help it, I’ll try to deal. Maybe I’ll invest in a pair of good earplugs.”

  He grunted something, and I looked up at him.

  “What?”

  “Thank you,” he repeated.

  I grinned. “You’re welcome, I guess. Though I didn’t do anything.”

  He stared at me. “You could’ve called the super, not that he’d have done anything since the super is my brother.”

  I shrugged. “I have my own abnormal sleeping problems.”

  I finally stood, catching the blanket as it completely slipped off of me, and I heard a hearty laugh.

  “That’s cute,” he said, tilting his head forward so I knew what he was talking about. “Where’d you find something like that in your size?”

  I looked down at my onesie that my brother had bought me for Christmas, and shrugged.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I didn’t buy it, my brother did.”

  His grin was much nicer than that frown he’d been wearing earlier.

  Though, both looks really did wonders for his features. The man was what I would call ‘scrumptious.’

  He looked hot in regular clothes like I’d seen him in the night before, but today, with him in full uniform once again…yeah, it was unbelievable.

  He likely broke hearts everywhere he went.

  “Do you wear that uniform anywhere but work?”

  My question surprised him, and he shrugged. “Like where?”

  “Like the grocery store,” I supplied.

  Those poor mothers would never know what hit them.

  “Sometimes,” he confirmed. “Other times I go pick up my dry cleaning in them. Most of the time, though, I don’t wear the uniform out. It’s a bit of a show stopper.”

  That was for sure.

  “Couldn’t they have found something more comfortable for you?” I questioned.

  He shrugged. “I’m sure they could have found a different size, but the uniform itself is supposed to act as a protection of sorts. Loose clothing equals to shit getting caught in moving parts that shouldn’t be getting caught there.”

  Well, I wasn’t complaining. If I got pulled over by him and received a ticket…I stopped. I had gotten a ticket from him, and though he didn’t technically pull me over, he did do all the other things.

  Sighing, I turned around and bent over, gathering my blanket up in my arms.

  “Have a good day, Officer.” I started toward my door. “Lou, you rat. Get in here!”

  I turned just in time to see the officer’s eyes move from my ass to my face.

  “What’s your name again, anyway?” I questioned.

  He grinned. “Go look on the ticket.”

  With that, he left, leaving me watching him go.

  And oh, what a damn good sight it was!

  But before he got all the way to where I now saw a motorcycle parked at the curb, he turned and looked at me.

  “What was your weird sleeping problem?” he demanded.

  I grinned. “If you ever see me wandering the parking lot at night, maybe steer me back into my apartment.”

  His eyes widened.

  The bad thing was that I’d been completely joking.

  Not about the sleepwalking part, but about the part where I would be in the parking lot.

  I hadn’t done anything that extreme since I was a kid, and hopefully wouldn’t be up for any repeat performances any time soon.

  But fate has a way of fucking you over and making it all okay at the same time.

  Which I found out later that night.

  Chapter 4

  I’ve lived a full life, and by that, I mean I’ve overeaten most of the time.

  -Logan to his dog

  Logan

  I paced but tried to be quieter while doing it.

  I’d even contemplated going outside to do it, taking the stairs a few hundred times, but those stairs were just as loud, if not louder than my inside pacing would be.

  I’d thought about walking out in the parking lot, but it was sprinkling lightly, and I didn’t want to get wet.


  Which led me to now as I tried to quietly pace the floors.

  God, would this ever get any better?

  I’d been out of the Army for going on eight years now. I’d been married, divorced. I’d gone to the doctor as well as the psychiatrist like I’d been fucking forced to, and yet my nightmares still persisted.

  Though, that was likely due to the fact that what I’d experienced was never going to let me free of its clutches.

  I’d seen so much, but it’d only been that last act of terror that pushed me over the edge. And it hadn’t even been military related—which one would think would’ve been the reason that I’d finally gone over the edge. It’d been the accident that had taken my father from me.

  The day after it’d happened, I decided when the time came, I wouldn’t be extending my contract with the Army.

  Within four months I was no longer an active military member of the United States Army, much to everyone’s—friends and superiors—annoyance.

  I’d been a good soldier, I’d been told.

  I could be a fucking five-star.

  I could be…what the fuck ever.

  It didn’t matter.

  Every time I closed my eyes, I woke up from a nightmare that took me in its grip and shook me until I couldn’t fuckin’ breathe.

  Just like tonight.

  I’d gone to bed at eight and had been awake by one am, gasping for breath and sweating so badly that I’d had to change my sheets.

  Some days it was the sounds. Other days? The smell. Or the feeling of lying on the ground, helpless, while I watched one of my fellow soldiers be tortured with me helpless only a few feet away.

  She wasn’t in my company.

  In fact, she’d been a nurse.

  I’d done just about everything I could think of to get her to acknowledge me, and she’d done just as much on her end to avoid me.

  I could tell that she liked me. Hell, she’d even admitted it. However, she’d been focused on her career, and she hadn’t wanted to test out the waters with a fellow soldier while we were deployed.

  Giving her the space she’d asked for, I’d backed off…and it’d gotten her killed. She’d done the deed herself.

  ***