Wild & Inked: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Desert Sons MC) (No Saints in Biker Hell Book 2)

by Claire St. Rose

  After Jack left, Tina began to pace. She knew the chances of someone recognizing her were slim, but she still felt exposed and vulnerable all the same. She looked over the bikes arrayed in ranks like soldiers, then thumbed through the racks of Harley-Davidson apparel again. Then she began to pace again.

  As she wandered, she took an opportunity to lift a customer’s wallet as he carefully inspected one of the new bikes. As he moved off to look at another bike, she discreetly pulled a pair of twenties from the cash inside and dropped the wallet by the bike he was inspecting earlier. She didn’t empty the wallet of cash in hopes he wouldn’t discover the missing funds right away, but she felt the need to pad her meager cash supply in case she had to bolt on her own.

  Finally, after almost ninety minutes, Jack appeared, and he didn’t look happy. “It’s bad?” she asked as she joined him.

  “Yeah. The guy was right—a burned exhaust valve on the front cylinder. The back one didn’t look so good either, so we are going to replace both. I used their computer to get the parts on order from a place I use.”

  “How are you going to pay for them?”

  “The dealership is going to add them to my bill.”

  “Is it going to be bad?”

  “It’s not going to be good. And we are looking at least two days, even overnighting the parts.”

  Tina frowned. Two days, stuck and unable to run if someone fingered them. “We might just have to spend all our time in the room,” she finally said with a small smile.

  Jack snorted. “I might not be able to ride after that,” he said as he escorted her out.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Leaving the Harley dealer, they stopped at Verizon and purchased a prepaid cell phone. It was a struggle because the Verizon rep couldn’t believe that they didn’t have, nor want, the minutes billed to a credit card each month. But with patience, and two hours of their time, they finally walked out with a cell phone with no connection to Jack Carter or Tina Harris.

  Jack used the new-found freedom to locate a pizza joint that delivered and ordered a large Carnivore’s Delight. Why they waited for the pizza he made a quick run to the local market and returned with a six icy bottles of Samuel Adams Boston Lager.

  “Now I know why you drink this, you damn Yankee,” Tina teased as she took the bottles and placed them in the ice filled sink.

  “You seemed to like it well enough.”

  “Yeah… beats the hell out of that piss in a can I normally drink.”

  Jack woofed out a laugh. “Know how most American beers and sex in a boat are the same?” When she shook her head and grinned, he continued. “Because they are both fucking close to water.”

  Tina snickered. “I like a good beer, but it was hard to afford anything but the cheap stuff on what I made. Even then it was a special treat, so it actually tasted pretty good.”

  He made a face. “If we ever get out of this mess we will have to hit some of the microbreweries around. Boston Lager is pretty good stuff, but it can’t touch most craft beers.”

  Before she could answer she heard a knock on the door.

  “Pizza or police? Which you think?” Jack asked.

  “Bet you a beer it’s the pizza.”

  “You’re on,” he said as he opened the door. It was the pizza. He paid the man, threw in a nice tip, and closed the door.

  “Thanks for the beer,” she said as she took a sip. I’m going to have to get a better job so I don’t have to go back to drinking piss in a can, she thought as the full-flavored beer caressed her tongue.

  He sat the heavenly-smelling pizza on the table and flipped up the lid. As it flopped open he practically thought he heard an angel sing as his eye feasted on the meat covered-pizza… only to realize that it was Tina trilling out a note beside him when she saw the baked goodness before them. He grinned to himself and wondered if she could actually sing.

  The pizza had cooled enough on the ride to the motel, allowing them to dive right in. They had missed lunch… again. They spoke little as they devoured their first slice, and Jack snickered when the loudest sound for the first several minutes was Tina moaning in hedonistic delight.

  “So, Jack,” she began as she pulled her second slice from the box. “Getting that cell phone was a real cluster-fuck.”

  “You’re telling me! I didn’t think they were going to give it to us without my driver’s license.”

  “I was thinking: How about while we wait for your bike to be fixed, we borrow someone’s ID? Someone that looks enough like one of us for us to pass for them. Then we can use that ID when we have to.”

  “I guess we would only need one, wouldn’t we?”

  “That’s what I’m thinking. We can stroll up and down the road where we saw all the alien stuff. That’s probably our best chance to lift someone’s wallet.”

  “I don’t know, Tina. I like the idea, and with the new cell phone and a fake ID, we should be pretty well hidden, but we have been taking a lot of risks lately. You lifted that guy’s cell and got it back to him just in time.”

  She didn’t mention the wallet at the Harley dealership. “But this would be a lot safer than that. Bump and grab. Done. Unless you expect me to put it back. That could get a little dicey.”

  He rubbed at his chin as the thought. “No… no putting it back,” he said slowly. “Okay. Let’s see if we can find someone that looks enough like us. We don’t have much of a choice. We can’t even check into a regular chain motel because they are going to want a driver’s license. And probably a credit card.”

  “I never knew being on the lam was such hard work. It looks easy on television.”

  “Doesn’t everything?” Jack asked.

  “Yeah. So how did you have time to think of all this stuff? I was nearly pissing myself when we left ABQ, but you were as cool as an ice cube. I would have brought my phone, used my credit cards, the works. It never even occurred to me, until you mentioned it, that all that stuff would lead the cops right to us.”

  “I’ve had a bug-out plan for a while. I didn’t have think of it… I had already thought of it.”

  Tina stared at him a moment. Jack always seemed to have a plan for every contingency. “So what’s next?”

  “First I’m going to finish stuffing myself on this pizza and drink half of the beer. Then I’m going to call Marshall and find out what the fuck is going on. Then I think I might watch a little television and try to relax.”

  “And then?” she prompted.

  “After the television? I know this sexy dishwater blond. If she’ll let me, I’m going to make love to her all night… or until I can’t get it up anymore… whichever comes first.”

  Tina felt a rush of heat flow over her. “I like your plan. Especially that last part.”

  “Yeah… that’s my favorite part too.”

  ***

  “Marshall. It’s Jack. Call me at this number,” he said before he hung up.

  “He didn’t answer?” Tina asked.

  “He never does if he doesn’t recognize the number. He’ll call me back in a minute.”

  Jack sat on the bed and took a sip from his third and final beer. He and Tina planned on finishing off the beer, but there were still three slices of pizza in the box. “Breakfast,” he said when they realized they couldn’t finish the entire pie. The phone played a happy little ditty and he punched the answer button, then put the phone on speaker.

  “Jack.”

  “Jesus, Jack! Are you okay? Where are you?” Marshall’s excited voice came over the speaker.

  “I’m in Roswell with Tina.”

  “Fuck! I just knew you had been arrested when I saw that the cars had been found! How did you get away?”

  “Blind, stupid ass luck. The cops must not have been sure of their information and asked me to come open the storage units. They had stopped at the clubhouse the day before with a warrant and searched—”

  “What?” Marshall interrupted loudly enough that Jack grinned.

 
“They didn’t find anything, of course. So when they went to the storage buildings they must have been uncertain about their information. The managers of the units called and asked me to come open units up.”

  “That fucking Seth…” Marshall growled.

  “We don’t know that,” Jack said.

  “Who else could it be?” Marshall snarled, then became quiet. “You don’t think it was me, do you?”

  “No, Marshall. I don’t think it’s you. But I can’t believe it was Seth either. He’s worked his ass off for the Sons. Why would he do that?”

  “I don’t know. But who else could it be?”

  “I don’t know. It could have been someone in one of the buildings at the clubhouse who put two and two together and took a shot in the dark.”

  “Maybe,” Marshall allowed. “Seems like an awfully big coincidence to me. And how would they know about the storage buildings? Only you, me, and Seth knew about that.”

  “I know. But if it was Seth, why did he send the cops to the clubhouse? He knew there was nothing there.”

  “Fuck… I don’t know,” Marshall moaned. “What can we do to help?”

  “First… have the cops been leaning on anyone?”

  “Not that I know of. Shit, we didn’t even know the cops had a clue until I saw it on the news. Then I couldn’t reach you, and…”

  “Have you talked to the other members?”

  “Yeah. So far as I know it’s been quiet.”

  “Okay. Tina and I are safe for the moment. The ‘39 shit itself on the ride down and is in the shop with burned valves. It’s going to take a couple of days to get that fixed. After that, we’re going to move, but I’ll let you know where we end up, okay?”

  “Why don’t you come back? Hole up with Nic and me. We can put you up and nobody would ever know.”

  “No. Too dangerous. If any of the Sons are connected to me they're going to go down too. I don’t want that on my conscious.”

  Marshall was quiet for a moment. “Okay. I understand.”

  “Marshall, I want you to promise me something. If he cops start closing in, on any of the Sons, I want you to call me.”

  “Why? What will you do?”

  “I’ll turn myself in. Nobody is taking the fall for this but me.”

  “Fuck that!”

  “Marshall! Please! It’s important!”

  “Jack! You’ve got to let that go! It wasn’t your fault!”

  “It doesn’t matter. You have to promise me you’ll call or I’m walking out of this room and going to the nearest police station to turn myself in right now.”

  Tina’s heart turned to ice. Jack had the phone on speaker so she could hear both sides of the conversation. and she knew there was something important Marshall knew that she didn’t. Something that was driving Jack. “Marshall… this is Tina. Promise him. He already wanted to turn himself in once and I talked him out of it. But he’ll do it. Please, just promise him.”

  “Jack! Don’t be stupid!” Marshall snarled.

  When Jack didn’t answer, Tina spoke again. “Marshall, please.”

  “Fuck! Jack, what is wrong with you? Colette wasn’t your fault!” The three of them fell silent, and Tina watched Jack as he stared into the distance—into his memories. “Fine, Goddammit! Fine! I’ll call you. But Jack, you have to let that go! Colette brought that on herself! You had nothing to do with it!”

  “She did it for me,” Jack said quietly.

  “Bullshit! She did it to try to impress you! She did it to feel like some badass biker bitch! She did it for herself, Jack! I’ve been telling you that for years!”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does matter, goddammit!” Marshall raged from the tiny speaker. “We all knew what we were getting into! We stand together or we fall together! Tina! If he starts to do something stupid, you kick him in the nuts so hard he can’t walk, then you call me! I’ll come to wherever you are and I will kick his ass so hard he’ll wake up in a coma!”

  “You have my word on that,” Tina said firmly.

  “Good! Are we done talking stupid shit, Jack?” Marshall asked.

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “That’s more like it,” Marshall said, calming down.

  “Tina, we’re depending on you.” Nic’s voice came over the phone. “If you don’t call Marshall, I’m going to kick your ass.”

  “Don’t worry,” Tina said as she relaxed. “Marshall will be right behind me for kicking his ass. You want to get in line?”

  Nic trilled out a laugh. “I’m in.”

  “Seriously, Jack. We’re fine,” Marshall said. “The heat is all on you. But don’t be stupid. Listen to Tina. It sounds like she has more brains in her little finger than you do in your entire head.”

  “That’s not saying a lot,” Nic said faintly, which caused even Jack to chuckle.

  “I will… and Marshall?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Who’s Colette?” Tina asked after Jack killed the call.

  “Nobody.”

  “That’s bullshit. She must have been important to you if you are still torn up about it.”

  He looked into her eyes. Tina didn’t look that much like Colette, but she reminded him of her in so many ways. “She was girlfriend of mine about six years ago.”

  “What happened?”

  “She went to prison.”

  Tina’s heart sank. “Why?”

  He took a deep breath. “I was just putting the Sons together. There were a few key people in place. Marshall and Nic, a couple of others. Colette wanted in on the action. But… I loved her and I didn’t want her involved.”

  “So what happened?”

  “She… broke into a car dealership one night. I guess she thought she was going to steal some keys for one of the new cars or something. She didn’t know what the hell she was doing. Her parents were doctors, for Christ’s sake! Her idea of breaking the law was a speeding ticket!”

  “She got caught?”

  “Yeah. The night security guard caught her red handed and the judge threw the book at her.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad. First time offender… she wasn’t armed, was she?”

  “No.”

  “What did she pull, six months in county?”

  “Something like that.”

  Something didn’t make sense. She should have been out in three or four months if she kept her nose clean. So why was Jack beating himself up? “There’s more, isn’t there?”

  “Yeah. She got into a fight in the yard. One of the inmates cut her face pretty badly. She had this big scar on her face… across her nose and down her cheek. She… couldn’t live with it.”

  Tina’s skin prickled into gooseflesh. “What do you mean she couldn’t live with it?”

  “She was beautiful. She modeled for some of the local stores. And… I guess she couldn’t live with her face cut like that. She…”

  Tina watched as Jack’s face crinkled as his guilt and grief washed over him. She took his hand and held it. “What happened, Jack?” she asked softly.

  “She got one of those prison knives from somewhere and cut her wrists open one night. She bled out before anyone found her.”

  “Jack… I’m so sorry for you. I really am,” she said gently. “But Marshall’s right. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “She did it for me, Tina,” he said, his voice hard. “She did it prove herself to me.”

  “Yes. She probably did do it to try to prove something to you. And maybe herself as well. But that doesn’t make it your fault. Did you send her into that dealership?”

  “No.”

  “Did you ask her to prove she could be a thief? Was that a condition of your love?”

  “No.”

  “You tried to keep her safe and away from your activities?”

  “Yes.”

  “Jack… Listen to Marshall. He’s right. Maybe she did do it to try t
o prove something to you. But she also did it to prove something to herself. You can’t hold yourself responsible for some else’s actions.”

  “But if…”

  “No buts, Jack! No buts. Listen to me. Listen to Marshall. Colette knew what she was doing.”

  “Her parents…”