Wild & Inked_A Motorcycle Club Romance_Desert Sons MC

by Claire St. Rose

  “Maybe,” he murmured as he began to thrust into her, “I need to teach you a lesson.”

  “I might be a slow learner.”

  “I hope so,” he murmured as he took her lips and instructed her… over and over again.

  ***

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  They splurged the next morning and bought some new clothes so they wouldn’t look like ragamuffins when they lunched with Pyotr. Jack had allowed Tina to dress him in a pair of casual dark grey pants with a taupe coat that was trying to decide if it was tan or grey. A crisp white shirt and loafers completed the look.

  For herself, Tina selected a sleeveless crewneck tunic in classic white, but made fun and flirty with a riotous set of stripes of various widths in orange and teal from her breasts to the bottom hem just above her knee. She added a white bowknot belt to accentuate her curves and a pair of open toed sandals to replace her sneakers. Even though her entire ensemble cost less than $150, she felt like a million bucks as she swayed into the dining room on Jack’s arm.

  “May I help you, sir?”

  Jack turned to the hostess. “We’re to meet Pyotr Rodchenko for lunch. We’re a couple of minutes early.”

  “Mr. Carter?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Mr. Rodchenko sends his apologies. He is running a bit late and asked that you be seated.”

  Jack flushed as the woman led them to a table in the corner. He remembered his manners at the last moment and pulled out a chair for Tina before she could seat herself. She smiled at him as she folded gracefully into her chair.

  “What do you think is going on?” Tina whispered when they were alone.

  “I don’t know. We already have the money, so that can’t be it. I guess we'll find out when Rodchenko arrives.”

  Jack and Tina nursed their water and nibbled at the delicious bread and honeyed butter until Pyotr arrived fifteen minutes late. “I apologize for my tardiness. I was discussing transportation options with Mr. Goremykin.”

  Jack reached into his jacket pocket and placed twelve keys on the table, along with a folded sheet of paper. “The keys to the cars, the storage buildings, and the addresses where you will find them.”

  Pyotr made no move to take the keys. “Mr. Goremykin has one more requirement.”

  Jack’s eyes narrowed in suspicion and his voice became cool. “What’s that?”

  “It is about the delivery of the cars.”

  Jack waved his hand over the items. “There are the keys. I have delivered them as agreed.”

  “If this were Russia, this would be acceptable. But here… Mr. Goremykin cannot accept the cars in this method.”

  “What do you mean, ‘In this method?’”

  “We cannot ship the cars from their current location.”

  “Not my problem. We never said we would deliver the cars to a particular location. We agreed to deliver the cars to Mr. Goremykin, or in this case, his agent. I’m here, you’re here, and the keys and location of the cars are here.”

  “My sorry, Mr. Carter. This is non-negotiable.”

  Jack leaned in close, his face hard. “Don’t fuck with me, Rodchenko.”

  “Do not threaten me, Mr. Carter. I am not impressed with the threats of a petty thief.”

  “Fuck you, Rodchenko,” he hissed before he turned to Tina and rose. “Let’s go.”

  “Sit down, Mr. Carter.” Rodchenko’s voice never changed in volume or tone, but the command was clear. “To walk away now, without concluding our deal, would not be… wise.”

  Tina placed her hand on Jack’s. “Jack… What do you offer, Mr. Rodchenko?”

  Jack settled back into his chair as Pyotr began to speak. “Mr. Goremykin wants you to deliver the cars to Savannah, Georgia before November 14 of this year.”

  “I told you, I don’t have any way to do that. I have the Audi you saw and a pair of motorcycles, and that’s it. I can’t move six cars with those.” Jack sat back and pursed his lips in annoyance. “Hire a trucking firm to move them.”

  “I spoke with one of your associate, Cheryl, and she informed me that you moved the cars from New Mexico to California with a semi. A semi that you drove. Is that correct?”

  “That’s correct. A stolen semi, I might add. The risks are too great to steal another and drive that far.”

  “Stealing one won’t be necessary.”

  “What do you mean?” Jack leaned forward, more interested now that his anger was subsiding. “And why me? Can’t you hire someone who is willing to move the cars and keep their mouth shut?”

  “That is what I’m attempting to do, Mr. Carter.”

  “I don’t want to do it.”

  “Mr. Goremykin wants you to do it. He is willing to make it worth your effort.”

  “Mr. Rodchenko, I already have enough of Mr. Goremykin’s money that I really don’t care to have any more. Thank you, but no.”

  “Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear. Mr. Goremykin wants you to do this, and you will be handsomely compensated for your time. However, failing to complete the deal would be unfortunate—”

  “I’m sure Goremykin will get over it,” Jack interrupted.

  “Not for Mr. Goremykin, Mr. Carter. For you. And Ms. Harris. It would be… unfortunate… if the police were to learn your whereabouts.”

  “You son of a bitch!” Jack snarled as he began to rise. He had enough of Rodchenko, but the small pistol in Pyotr’s hand froze him in place.

  “Sit down, Mr. Carter.” As Jack sat, the weapon disappeared as fast as it had appeared.

  Tina’s breathing started again as Jack sat down. “Jack… we can do this. We can! I have always wanted to see someplace other than New Mexico.” She turned her attention to Pyotr. “You said we wouldn’t have to steal a truck?”

  “That’s correct. By this time tomorrow the paperwork will be complete for a Kenworth truck, legally purchased by Goremykin Transport. You will pick the truck up here,” Pyotr said as he slid a business card across the table. “The truck will be fully licensed and insured. Present my card—” Another card is slid across the table. “—and the truck will be turned over to you.”

  “And the cars?” Tina asked as Jack fumed.

  Pyotr pulled a thick envelope from his inside jacket pocket and handed it across to Tina. “Inside you will find Bills of Lading and Manifests for the transportation of six replica Ferraris and an Audi A6 sedan from Los Angeles, California, to Savannah, Georgia. Once in Savannah, you will contact Leslie Almaredy with TransAtlantic Intermodal.” Pyotr slide a third card across the table. “You leave her the keys to the truck, unload your car, and drive away.”

  “And what do we get out of this?” Tina asked.

  “For your services, you will be paid one hundred thousand dollars… and you will be assured that the police will not accidently discover your whereabouts.”

  Tina looked to Jack. “That like, thirty thousand dollars a day, Jack! We can do this. Please, Jack. This one last thing.”

  Jack looked at her sourly. “They’ve screwed us on this deal once already. How do you know they won’t do it again?”

  “Can we trust you, Pytor? Will you give me your word, as a gentlemen, that if we do this last thing, we are clear? You will ask nothing else from us, ever, and you won’t reveal our location to the police?”

  “You have my word, Ms. Harris.”

  “Please, Jack.”

  Jack thought it over. Goremykin and Rodchenko had effectively maneuvered him into a corner. “Fine,” he spat.

  “I want one more thing,” Tina said before Rodchenko could speak. “I want new identities for Jack and myself. Identities that will stand up to the closest scrutiny.”

  “You are hardly in a position to make demands, Ms. Harris.”

  “You need us more than we need you. We’ve escaped the police twice already. We can do it again.”

  Rodchenko smiled—the first smile Tina had seen from the man. “Very well. Would you two like to be married?”
/>
  Jack snorted as he bowed to the inevitable. “No. I think we can manage that ourselves. But I want you to change the shipping documents to include two motorcycles, a 1939…”

  Rodchenko produced another envelope, identical to the first, and exchanged it for the one on the table. “Anything else?”

  Jack stared at Pytor. “How did you know?”

  “There is very little we don’t know about you and Ms. Harris. That is why Mr. Goremykin is so insistent that you be the ones to transport the cars. You may be a car thief, but you have demonstrated a certain… Shall we say, honor. Mr. Goremykin feels he can trust you. But let me warn you, failure to prove that trust would not be in your best interest.”

  Jacks’ eyes narrowed. “I’ve agreed to your deal, Rodchenko… don’t threaten me.”

  “I don’t threaten, Mr. Carter.”

  Jack stared at the man. “No. I can see that you don’t.”

  ***

  “That guy still scares me,” Tina said as they waited for the valet to bring up Jack’s car.

  “Yeah. Me, too. But what scares me more is how much he knew. He knew your name. How did he know your name? I was careful to not use your name. He knew about the motorcycles, too. Hell, they probably know where the cars are.”

  “Probably got my name from one of the Sons, don’t you think?”

  “Probably. But still. I will be glad when this is behind us.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  ***

  Tina and Jack decided to go somewhere nice for dinner since they were dressed better than normal. As they pulled into the motel parking lot, a car with a man behind the wheel was sitting in front of their door. Jack parked the Audi several doors down and placed his hand on the weapon tucked into the small of his back as they approached.

  The man opened his door and stepped out of the car. He was young and smiling, but that didn’t remove the threat posed by the gun on his hip. “Are you Mr. Jonathan Thomas Carter?”

  “And you are?”

  “I’m with LA Safe Couriers. I have a package from Mr. Rodchenko for a Mr. Jonathan Thomas Carter or Ms. Tina Louise Harris. Is that you?”

  Jack relaxed slightly, but didn’t remove his hand from his weapon. “I am.”

  “I will need to see your ID before I can release the package.”

  “Can you take care of that?” Jack stepped away from Tina as she rummaged in her purse for her ID in case he had to draw and fire.

  Tina handed her driver’s license to the man. He carefully studied the card. “Sign here please,” he said as he handed a clipboard to Tina. Tina signed the paper and handed it back. The man compared the signature on the paper with the one on the driver’s license before he handed the card back to her. “Thank you Ms. Harris.”

  He chucked the clipboard through the window into the passenger seat before opening the rear door. In the floor, where the seat should have been, was a large metal box with a digital lock. The man typed in a long series of numbers, opened the lid, and removed a large envelop that he handed to Tina.

  “Have a nice evening,” he said as he slammed the door and returned to the driver’s seat.

  As he backed out of the parking space Jack relaxed and removed his hand from the gun. He swiped his card and pushed the door to their room open. The door was not even shut before Tina has opened the clasp on the envelope and dumped the contents on the table.

  Jack picked up the ten bundles of cash and thumbed through one of them. With the kind of money Goremykin was throwing around, it was unlikely that they would even notice a hundred grand, but he counted the bundle of crisp new hundred dollar bills anyway.

  As he counted, Tina looked over the rest of the papers. “Cool! I’m a Georgia Peach!”

  “What?” Jack asked as he reached one hundred bills.

  “We were born in Sparta, Georgia. Let’s see, I was born in 1990, and you were born in 1981. How the fuck did he know my birthday? Is this your birthday?”

  Jack looked over her shoulder at his birth certificate. “Yeah. Remind me to thank you later for not letting me cross these guys. I wonder why Sparta?”

  “Because we are going to Georgia?”

  He picked up a piece of paper. “No... Look at this.”

  Tina took the paper and quickly scanned the article about the recent Hancock County courthouse fire that destroyed most of the records.

  “They’re thorough, I’ll give them that,” Jack said as he took the paper back.

  Also in the packet, along with the cash and birth certificates, were Class A commercial driver’s licenses from the state of New Mexico in their new names, Bradley Colt Lanier and Jacqueline Marie Wendell, complete with a motorcycle endorsement. There were also registration and insurance cards for the Audi and the bikes, a receipt for a PO box in their new names, credit cards, voter registration cards, social security cards, two new cell phones, medical insurance cards, a library card for the Albuquerque Public Library for Tina, and finally, a credit card issued to Goremykin Transport from Petro truck stops.

  “That shit, Rodchenko… naming you Jac. That won’t be confusing at all,” Jack laminated as he looked over the documents.

  “Colt, however, is sexy as hell.”

  “The names Brad,” he said as he tried it on for size.

  “Oh no its not. It’s Colt.”

  “Brad...”

  “Colt.”

  “Brad.”

  “Colt!”

  “Brad!”

  “Look, I’m fucking a Colt tonight. Do you want that to be you or not?”

  “Hi! I’m Colt,” Jack said as he stuck out his hand in greeting.

  Tina giggled and took his hand. “Nice to meet you Colt. I’m Jacqueline, but my friends call me Jac.”

  “May I call you Jac?”

  She pushed him backwards until he backed into the bed and sat down hard. “Oh, I think we are going to be great friends,” she said as she sat down in his lap facing him. “Great friends indeed,” she added as her lips closed over his.

  ***

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  “May I help you?” a fat, balding man asked as Jack and Tina stepped into the office at the Kenworth dealership.

  Jack presented the card Rodchenko had given him. “We’re here to pick up a truck for Goremykin Transport.”

  The man’s entire demeanor changed. “Of course, of course, Mr. Goremykin! I’m Keith Tuttle, your account manager. The truck is in final inspection right now. I have to tell you, that was quite a rush job to pull all this together so quickly. Our driver got back with the trailer less than an hour ago. We have three guys installing the extra lights on it right now. He got three speeding tickets to get here on time! He said he saw 110 at one point! But that’s a Kenworth for you… flat out to Phoenix and back and not a whimper!”

  “Not in our truck I hope,” Jack grinned.

  “No! Of course not. We were still working on your truck. We sent another truck for the hauler. Had to go all the way to Phoenix to get a black one, and even then we still had to change out the wheels to polished aluminum when he got back. Pulled them off another trailer and threw them on as soon as he got here. It’s all good, though.”

  “The truck is ready?”

  “No. I just checked on it. We worked all night, but we just didn’t have enough time to finish it all. But it should be done in less than an hour. Like I said, it’s in final inspection now. After that, we’ll wash it and it will be ready for delivery.”

  Jack looked at his cell. It was nearly two now. “I was told the truck would be ready at noon.”

  “I understand, Mr. Goremykin. And we did the best we could. But having to change the cab unit, the custom graphics and chrome, and the extra lights… that all takes time.”

  Jack didn’t correct Keith. If Keith wanted to think he was Goremykin, then he would let him. “I understand. But I need the truck as soon as possible.”

  “Yes sir. I understand. And we have had every man working on getting the truck re
ady. Please, just bear with us.”

  “You said it would be ready in an hour?” Jack asked.

  “That’s what the shop foreman told me.”

  “We’ll be back in an hour.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Goremykin, for your patience and understanding.”

  ***

  The truck wasn’t ready in an hour when they returned, but at 3:45 the sparkling vehicle was pulled out of the shop. Painted in a rich gloss black, with matching enclosed car hauler trailer, dripping chrome and lit like a giant Christmas tree, the truck was a sight to behold. It was easily the nicest, most beautiful truck on the lot, and looked like something out of a brochure.