Her Man Advantage

by Joanne Rock

  He wasn’t surprised when the distinctive single headlights filled his rearview, a swarm of Hogs bearing down on him. Someone must have followed him more discreetly out of Kyle’s neighborhood, then alerted the rest to fall in line.

  Axel told himself it was a good thing he’d parted ways with Jennifer. He didn’t want her mixed up in this and he wouldn’t let her be targeted because of him. He liked the idea of her safe at Kyle’s house for the night, even if she was angry.

  Hurt.

  Pulling the Escalade off the road, Axel felt the answering twinge in his chest far more than he felt any kind of fear for himself tonight. If anything, he was spoiling for a fight since threats from these bastards had cost him Jennifer.

  He pushed the button to roll down his power window, knowing there would be a representative goon out there. Axel understood the job of the enforcer all too well. It was a role he’d taken on with every team he’d ever played for. The rough-looking dude with a beard down to his chest and wraparound shades over his eyes—How the hell could he see anything in the dark?—wasn’t all that different from him.

  “Follow us,” the big guy grunted, leather vest creaking as he straightened. “And don’t even think about trying to ditch us or we’ll go back for the redhead.”

  “I want to meet with the brains behind this dumb-ass operation, you prick,” Axel shouted out the window at the guy’s retreating back. “If you threaten her again, things are going to turn ugly in a hurry.”

  Not because he could really back up that statement. More because he’d likely pull a berserker and take out as many of the motorcycle dudes as possible before someone popped him.

  Thankfully, the beast in leather kept walking to his bike while the rest of the crew—maybe ten of them—kept vigil from the comfort of their Harleys. No one said anything, apparently unimpressed with Ax’s threat.

  Fifteen minutes later, down back roads and through some run-down suburbs, the motorcycle brigade led him to a dark warehouse with boards on the windows. Wide overhead bays were built high on one wall, probably designed for loading tractor trailers. As they approached, a normal-size door opened on the side of the low cement building, light spilling out into the surrounding woods.

  Ax stepped out of the Escalade before they could come for him, ready to get this over with. His nerves twitched now as his biker escorts surrounded him, ensuring he didn’t run. As if he would. With Jen at risk, he was very ready to negotiate with these guys.

  Nearing the entrance, he heard the guitar riffs from an old Southern rock song and laughter from inside the building. The abandoned facility must be a flophouse for the gang rather than a place designated for violence. Good news, that.

  “Welcome back, Akseli.” The Finnish words floated on the spring breeze, the language so fluid and natural to his ear that it took him a minute to recall how out of place it was.

  A familiar figure stood in the shadowy archway, shocking the hell out of him. Tall and bow-legged, a cigarette perched on a fat lower lip. A generous gut spilled over his belt, his leather vest too small to ever button again. Jaako Latt, the boss of the gang back in Helsinki, waited for him.

  “Didn’t trust the locals to do your dirty work, Jaako?” Axel steeled himself the same way he did before a fight on the ice. He tightened his abs. Kept his shoulders low. His fists ready to fly at the slightest provocation.

  He didn’t realize he’d stopped short until one of the bikers nudged his shoulder, prodding him forward.

  “No,” Jaako said in Finnish. Then swapping to English, he barked at the horde of Destroyers accompanying Axel. The guy was probably only in his late fifties, but he’d aged well beyond his years. Scars riddled his face and his voice was rough from a two-pack-per-day habit. “No. We don’t need to push one of our own. Come in, Akseli. I’ve traveled a long way to collect on your debt.”

  “Ever heard of email?” Axel stepped into the clubhouse decked out like a crappy tavern with no health code to worry about.

  A bar made of an old countertop stood against one wall with cases of liquor stacked nearby. Dusty plastic cups and a dorm-size fridge rounded out the self-serve operation. A few sawhorse tables were filled with bottles of beer and cards, as if they’d walked in on a game of poker. Ax didn’t see any weapons, but he’d bet money most of the guys—even a couple of women—packed heat.

  “The internet is not secure for our business, I do not think,” the old-timer said, his gait stiff on one side as he shuffled toward the bar. Bullet wound, Axel guessed. “I am retiring and have come to collect. You are my retirement, you see. I let you go. Now, you finance my way out. Though, of course, I leave with honor. Unlike you.”

  “You want money?” Axel spoke in English.

  Jaako stuck to Finnish when he replied. “You will pay to keep the crimes of your past a secret from your American fans and the woman you kiss on television. This way, you protect your endorsement deals, yes?” Jaako took a long drag on the butt in his mouth before tossing it on the dusty cement floor. “One time payment. Cash. Say, three million?”

  The Southern rock music kept on playing, the volume cranked even though Axel guessed half the guys in the room kept careful tabs on the conversation.

  Shit. Jaako had a point about protecting his image since endorsement deals didn’t go to players with skeletons in their closets. But protecting Jen was a whole hell of a lot more important than preserving an image. He was furious over having to hurt Jennifer because of his past.

  He opened his mouth. Fully prepared to tell them to go to hell and see what happened.

  “I don’t think so, dirtbag,” a familiar female voice shouted.

  Axel’s stomach dropped. Blood froze. Fear crawled up his spine.

  Every head in the room swiveled to see the source of that declaration. Jennifer stood in the doorway, her slender arm squeezed in the rough hold of a half-wit teenage biker who gripped her in one hand and a video camera in the other.

  “Quiet,” snarled the gangster who held her. “I found her in a tree, holding the camera up to that window,” the kid told Jaako, pointing to the boarded-up glass in question.

  She must have found a crack in the boards to film through.

  “Let her go.” Axel moved toward her, but five guys rose out of their chairs to stop him. Ten hands had to hold him back.

  “Break the camera,” Jaako told the kid in his thickly accented English. “You have done well. She is good persuasion for our hockey star.”

  “I’m only persuaded if you let her go right this second.” Axel never took his eyes off the kid with a death wish who still gripped Jennifer’s arm so hard there were going to be bruises.

  At a nod from Jaako, the teenage gangster-in-training released her. Ax’s relief was short-lived since she didn’t fade quietly into the background while he talked them out of here.

  She stepped closer to the Finnish boss.

  “Break the camera all you want,” she taunted him. “The feed goes directly to a URL that records all the footage.” Her green eyes flashed with the kind of daring most men wouldn’t have facing down this crowd.

  But then, not many people were born with a fire inside. And as much as he admired that about her, he really needed her to quit egging on the man who could wreak vengeance with a nod to his underlings.

  “Don’t you get it?” she pressed, her yellow skirt with the mangoes and limes absurdly out of place among the leather- and denim-clad bikers. With guns.

  “Get what, Red?” Jaako barked at her. “You are a foolish woman who wanders where you do not belong.”

  “I have evidence of blackmail. You’ll go to jail for that. At the very least, you’re getting booted out of the U.S. and you won’t ever be allowed back in.”

  Jaako cackled, a new cigarette nearly falling out of his mouth. “As if we were strangers to criminal charges. Even if I cared about your blackmail claim, I know you won’t use the film to free Akseli of his obligation to me because he does not want his fans to discover his c
riminal past. Your threat is useless.”

  * * *

  JENNIFER FELT HERSELF DEFLATE.

  She hadn’t thought about that. Axel would be implicated if she exposed his blackmailing former gang for the scumbags they were. She’d followed Axel out here, leaving two seconds behind him to avoid detection by Kyle Murphy.

  Because whether or not Axel wanted to be with her, she didn’t want him hurt. Or threatened. She loved him.

  She’d called the cops when she’d seen the motorcycles pull him over, but since she was from out of town, she hadn’t been able to say exactly where they were. Then, when the police dispatcher had told her to stay in her car once she’d reached the warehouse, she’d ignored him, thinking she could help Axel somehow.

  Yet she’d only made herself a liability in this showdown. Her eyes went to Axel. She met his blue gaze, hoping he knew how sorry she was for intervening. For acting impulsively and thinking she could fix everything once again.

  “You’re brilliant,” Axel told her, the U-shaped scar on his face stretching as he gave her a grim smile. “Because I’m going public with my past. Kyle knows all about it anyhow, so if I don’t come back tonight, he’ll go to the media for me. Either way, I plan to share the trouble I got in as a kid in order to help other kids stay out of danger.”

  “Really?” Jennifer knew his career would take a hit. That the announcement would be a distraction during the playoffs when the whole team needed to focus.

  “Don’t be stupid,” the old Finnish biker yelled at him. “Three million is nothing to pay. You owe the Destroyers for taking you in. You swore allegiance then turned your back on us when a better offer came along.”

  Jennifer edged closer to Axel, even though a handful of guys still surrounded him. Restrained him from coming toward her.

  “You can’t blackmail someone who freely admits what they’ve done,” Axel clarified. “But you can damn well be busted for trying, thanks to the live video feed. Good thing a prominent New York producer got it all on film.”

  Curses flew in Finnish. The cigarette fell out of the ringleader’s mouth. Even the local bikers looked surprised. Confused at the outburst since they didn’t seem to understand Finnish any better than she did.

  But every last one of them understood police sirens. And the long, high wail sounded close outside the building.

  “Jen.” Axel grabbed her while the bikers who had held him scrambled for the exit. “Come here.”

  He pulled her around the towering cases of alcohol, then drew her down to crouch behind the bar.

  “We’re the good guys, Axel,” she reminded him, her shoes sticking in spilled beer. “We don’t need to hi—”

  Gunfire broke out before the sentence had fully left her mouth.

  She would have screamed, but Axel crushed her to his chest, holding her tight. Putting his body between her and the bar, providing an extra barrier for the bullets. Fear spiked. The acrid sent of gun smoke wafted on the air.

  “It’s okay. It’s outside,” he assured her, the shots replaced by more shouting and sirens. The sound of motorcycle engines firing. “You called the cops?”

  She breathed in the scent of his skin, her fingers clutching at his muscles straining the fabric of his cotton button-down. She focused on him instead of the chaos and fear. He was so familiar. So strong and capable.

  Nodding, she swallowed back the panic, her spine pinned against liquor boxes and a fallen bar stool.

  “I had to. After I followed you, I saw all those motorcycles surround you. I knew you’d be mad that I got the police involved, but I couldn’t just let those guys take you. I was so scared.”

  He hugged her again, his powerful arms making her feel safe in spite of the scuffle outside.

  “You? Scared?” he asked, pulling back to cup her face in his big, roughened hands. “I would have never guessed.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she chided, hoping he was hugging her because he wanted to hug her and not just because he was glad she was okay. “Who wouldn’t be scared to face down a biker gang? And that snot-nosed teenager frightened me so bad I almost fell out of the tree.”

  She showed him the scratch on her arm where a branch had nicked her. Her heart beat erratically and she wondered if she could be in shock. Did people go into shock from seeing their loved ones threatened?

  “I told you to stay at Kyle’s,” he told her, his voice turning harsh and ragged. “Damn it, why didn’t you listen? You could have been killed.”

  “Don’t you yell at me, Axel Rankin.” She willed her heart to slow down. Her breath to ease up before she started hyperventilating. “I’ve had about all I can take for one night.”

  She scowled at him until he stopped scowling at her. All she really cared about was finding out whether or not he wanted to be with her. Had he walked away from her because he wanted to scare her off tonight? Or did he truly feel that it could never work out between them?

  Just as she was going to demand an answer, there was a loud bang nearby and a shout over a bullhorn.

  “Police! Come out with your hands up!”

  14

  THANK GOD THE SENIOR ranking officer on the job was a Phantoms fan.

  Axel sat in a downtown police precinct an hour later, grateful he and Jennifer hadn’t been arrested. They’d been brought in for questioning about the events of the evening, however, and been separated so the police could compare their stories. Axel hadn’t seen Jennifer since they’d been patted down by the police who’d entered the warehouse. The officers had found an impressive weapons stash, ensuring the Destroyers would be brought up on charges. Jaako Latt had been implicated by all the local bikers, the gang’s oath of loyalty not standing up so well for the Finnish ringleader. Apparently some of the Philly members hadn’t been too pleased that they’d risked their necks for a foreigner who planned to blackmail a former member and keep the profits to himself.

  Or so Ax had heard from his new police friends. He just wished he’d get an update on Jennifer now that it seemed as though he could put his past to rest.

  “You know you’ve got to call Dad,” Kyle told Axel for the second time since he’d shown up at the station. Axel had phoned Kyle as soon as they were brought in, and although Kyle was furious that Axel had met with the Destroyers without him, he’d shown up in record time to help him out.

  They sat in front of the desk where Axel had given his statement, and up until a few minutes ago, a crowd of officers had circled around them, each with input on how the Phantoms should play their first opponent in the playoffs, the Boston Bears. The crowd had dissipated after a call came in with a lead on where some of the other bikers had taken refuge after the bust at the warehouse. Phones rang almost continuously in the understaffed precinct, and the scent of coffee and take-out food hung in the air. Kyle’s phone beeped with a new text message every five minutes.

  “And tell him what? I nearly got arrested? Almost got someone I care about killed?” Axel leaned back in the creaky wooden chair, wishing Jennifer would walk out of one of the other rooms. He needed to see her. Reassure himself she was okay. He’d have nightmares about her showing up at that clubhouse for a long time. “Or did you want me to warn Dad that I may get booted out of the league for being a crap role model to kids everywhere?”

  “Look. Ax.” Kyle kicked the bottom of Axel’s chair with one foot, forcing the legs down to the ground. “I’ve got to tell you something.”

  “I know there was nothing you could do about Jennifer sneaking out of your house.” He didn’t want Kyle to feel bad about how things shook down. “She must have left seconds after me, so you were probably still down in the media room.”

  “I feel terrible about that, man. But there’s something else.” He stroked a hand across his chin, a gesture Axel recognized from way back. A guilty tell.

  “What?”

  “When you called me tonight, I called Dad.”

  “Damn it, Kyle, you had no right—”

  “I kno
w, but I’m not sorry. He’s a smart guy and he knows stuff we don’t, okay?” Kyle pulled some paperwork out of his back pocket. Unfolding the sheaf, he smoothed out the crinkles. “Dad said we should hire a publicist. Someone to be ready if you needed help spinning this whole thing.”

  “I don’t want to spin anything.” Axel had been ducking his past for too long, hoping it wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass. And it might have cost him Jennifer forever. “I’m going with the straight-up truth.”

  “Okay, maybe spin isn’t the right word.” Kyle passed him the papers. “But you need someone to help tell your side of the story so people understand you the way we do. If you could fill in some of the blanks here, we could fire off a press release tonight.”

  Axel shook his head, although on first glance, the list of ideas for a press release opening were all kind of good. None of them made him sound pathetic or as if he was asking for sympathy. Damn. His foster father only hired the best. This publicist must be good.

  “Too bad the news deadlines must have passed already.” He shoved aside the release. “It’s late. But maybe I could talk to this PR person tomorrow and see if we could do something.”

  “Actually, the NBA playoffs started tonight, with a series on the West Coast that went into overtime.” Kyle flashed his iPhone in front of Axel, showing him the score. “So the sports page is still being finalized, according to the publicist. We could run something now, but you need to put a call in to this guy.”

  Axel stared at Kyle’s phone as his brother pushed it toward him. He hadn’t wanted help dealing with his past. Had avoided dragging the Murphys into this mess for years. But his foster family had proven once again that they were there for him.

  “Thanks, bro.” Axel had to clear his throat, the words sounding rough from too many emotions.

  Kyle bumped his fist. “I’m still mad I didn’t get to go kick Jaako’s ass. But if this helps you put the whole thing to rest, that’s cool.”

  “I owe you one.” He pressed the call button on the contact Kyle had highlighted on the phone. “Now I just have to figure out how to get my girl back.”