by Sophia Gray
Amelia caught her breath, feeling lightheaded. “Stop shouting at me.”
“Stop whoring yourself out to gang members! I know you spent the night with him!”
Her mouth dropped open. Even Gregory seemed surprised at what he’d said.
“I am not a whore,” Amelia said, her voice shaking. “Don’tevercall me that again.”
“I...” But his temper overtook his remorse. “I told you I’d cut you off and I--”
“You can’t,” Amelia said coolly. “Not unless you want me to give Ethan a call. Ride off into the sunset with my gangster and spend the rest of my days spilling your dirty little political secrets.”
It was her father’s turn to be shocked. She hadn't even known whether or not her father had dirty secrets, but his sudden silence wasn’t encouraging. Amelia went on before she lost her nerve.
“I’m willing to play by your rules,” she said. “Date the men you want me to date. Be the respectable little daughter in public. But youwillrespect what I’m giving up for your campaign, or I’mdone.”
“Fine,” Gregory said, breathing hard, clearly trying to calm down. “As long as you behave properly, we won’t have a problem.”
“And I don’t want anyone following me anymore. That’s too far and you know it.”
“Maybe you should just stay home unless you have a proper chaperone,” he said and she resisted the urge to throw something.
“Perhaps you could make me a list,” Amelia said between clenched teeth. Wasn’t she already giving up enough? Now she had to have a chaperone? “I’m going to assume Ethan is off limits.”
“He already knows,” Gregory said, sweeping the picture off of the coffee table and ripping it in two. He finally looked in control again. “I stopped by and told him what I’d do if I saw the two of you together again. If he wants to hang onto his little club until the end of the year, he’ll listen.”
Her father tossed the shreds of the picture into the small wastepaper basket by the door and walked out of the room without a backward glance. Amelia dropped down onto the couch, her heart sinking down to the pit of her stomach. Her father had talked to Ethan? She could only imagine how that conversation had gone. Ethan didn’t look like a man who would willingly take orders. Maybe he’d show up just to prove a point.
Her traitorous heart pounded at the thought. No. He probably wished he’d never gotten involved with her. And she couldn’t blame him. In retrospect, it had been insane to drag him into this.
Amelia covered her face with both hands as hot tears burned in her eyes. Her father claimed to pay her way, she was suddenly fully aware that she was selling herself, piece by bloody piece.
Chapter 9
Ethan
Ethan stared down at the stack of papers on the desk and wished he didn’t have to look through it all again. The sun was setting and heat was pouring into the window above him, making it impossible to actually cool the room down to a comfortable temperature. His eyes felt like they were full of sand. He’d been up since five in the morning, putting in overtime at the repair shop. The heat wasn’t helping his exhaustion, but it was more than that. He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since...well, since he’d woken up and found Amelia gone. He pushed the thought away, sitting up straighter in his chair, determined to be businesslike. There were more important things in the world than Amelia Stratton. Even if it didn’t feel like it.
This paperwork had to be right. He couldn’t afford any mistakes, not with Stratton breathing down his neck. The State Representative had been oddly silent in the news since he’d stomped into the headquarters shouting at Ethan for taking Amelia home with him. Ethan couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to brace for impact. Something was in the air and it wasn’t just the shimmer of late summer.
He rested his head on his hand. Memories of Amelia kept bubbling up. The way she’d looked in that dress, sexy and determined. The way she’d looked in his bed, abandoned and yet somehow shy at the same time. The way she’d looked afterward, happy that he wanted more than just the sex. And he had. That was what really made this hell. He’d wanted more than just her body.
Apparently, all she’d wanted out of it was a way to make her father angry. Ethan didn’t appreciate being in the middle of that relationship. That was why he was working himself stupid, both at the shop and at the headquarters. He hadn’t touched the Flathead in three weeks, even though some of the parts he’d been missing had come in. Jimmy, who was the undisputed king of organization and motivation, had been unable to keep up with Ethan’s demands for the upcoming event.
The minute the ink was dry on the permits, Ethan had been promoting the charity drive. The officers had motivated the patch members and the patch members had talks with the few pledges that were left. Soon the town was covered in flyers. Ethan had been pleased to hear a few people talking about it while they were out and about.
They’d ended up with the cause he’d suggested and he knew he’d picked a good one. Not just for PR either. It made him feel good to be able to say that all the profits were going to go to wounded and homeless veterans. It also helped a bit financially and he wasn’t going to ignore that. When he talked to the rental companies they were going to be dealing with, most of them agreed to a reduced rate, which helped him a lot since they were stretching the budget as thin as possible. Maybe even thinner. This would take almost every dime they had, even with reduced rates.
Thankfully, the rest of the club agreed that this was pretty much a last-ditch effort to stand in the face of Stratton’s rules. Ethan didn’t like the all or nothing feeling. It made him nervous to think of what might happen if their gamble didn’t pay off. What if Stratton’s propaganda had spread too far already?
Ethan’s dad, Marcus Billings, had founded The Angel’s Keepers in the early ’90s and it had gone strong until Marcus got sick. Somehow, despite Ethan’s best efforts, it hadn’t been the same since Marcus died.
He leaned back in his chair once he’d been over every word of the papers. Every ‘I’ was dotted and every ‘T’ crossed. There was nothing Stratton could legally do to block them. Ethan’s cell phone rang, disturbing the quiet of the small office and taking him by surprise, shaking him out of his reverie. He answered the call without checking the screen. He was still organizing a lot of things for tomorrow's event and Kenny had promised to call later.
“Yeah?” he asked, bundling the permits and documents in the order he was going to need them tomorrow morning. No missteps allowed; he was going to get this right.
“Is this Ethan Billings?”
The woman’s voice on the other end of the line caught him by surprise. Was it-
“This is Marta Waters, from News 6.”
“Oh.” He cleared his throat as his heart rate slowed down. He should have realized right away that the woman on the other end of the line wasn’t Amelia. Amelia’s voice was a little softer, but a little sultrier, as well. “Right, how are you?”
“I’m fine, thanks. I’d like to apologize, as well, and let you know I just got your message.”
It had been Kenny’s idea to get some news coverage, and Ryan had managed to secure a newspaper reporter. None of them had had any luck with television news sources, though. Ethan hadn’t really expected anything different. It was probably small potatoes.
“I would bevery interested in covering this event,” she went on.
“Really?” he asked, nearly dropping his pen.
“Absolutely!” she assured him. “Of course, I would expect comments on Gregory Stratton’s new, restrictive proposals.”
“Oh, I’ve got plenty of those,” Ethan said grimly. “Since we’re talking expectations, I’ll be honest. I’d expect you to talk us up. We’re doing a good thing for a good reason here, and I want everyone watching News 6 to know it.”
“Of course,” Marta said. “You know...my uncle was in a motorcycle club. He was also a cop. He’s not thrilled with the way Representative Stratton is making you all lo
ok.”
Ethan grinned. “Glad to hear I’m not the only one who’s getting pissed off.”
“No, you’re not. The difference is that youare the only one who seems to be willing to take Stratton on.”
“Hey, this is just a charity drive,” Ethan said easily.
“Right,” she answered and he could hear the smile in her voice. “A simple charity drive. Right over Gregory Stratton’s toes.”
Ethan couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Okay, there might be a few ulterior motives, but they aren’t the whole point. Sounds like you’re looking forward to tomorrow just as much as I am.”
He could hear a smile in the reporter’s voice as she said, “Trust me, I am. See you there.”
“Sounds good.” He hung up and pulled up the news channel site on his phone. He didn’t really follow the news that closely, and he wanted to be able to recognize her tomorrow.
Marta Waters smiled out at him from her place on the page and he raised his eyebrows. Recognizing her shouldn’t be a problem. That was one pretty news reporter. She had bright straw blonde hair and a great smile. She seemed smart and career driven, too. She might be Jimmy or Kenny’s type. He’d have to see if he could get them into a conversation together.
Ethan sat back in his chair, stunned at himself. Was hematchmaking? He really needed to get Amelia out of his head, because Marta Waters was exactly the sort of woman he should have been interested in. A nice smile, a desire to stick it to the man, and what looked like a great body...heshould have been thinking about her. Not a woman who’d used him to make daddy jealous.
So, if he knew that...then why the hell couldn’t he forget her? He locked up the headquarters and headed home. At least he was exhausted enough to sleep without dreaming of Amelia’s innocent green eyes and the wicked way she’d learned to move.
# # #
“Cool! A bounce house!”
Ethan barely managed to catch Jimmy’s younger daughter as she barreled for the red, blue, and yellow castle that was being inflated slowly.
“Give it some time, Daisy,” he said, putting the five-year old’s feet back on the ground once he felt she wasn’t going to run for the inflatable again. “It’s not ready yet.”
“Come on,” her sister, Hope, said, catching up and giving Ethan a shy smile as he pushed Daisy over to her. “I think we can get some cotton candy now.”
Ethan watched the eight-year-old take her younger sister’s hand and lead her away to where Jimmy stood under the flashing lights of one of the food trucks. The inflatables had been the last thing to arrive and Ethan had never realized just how long they took to inflate.
He was starting to worry that they wouldn’t be up in time. People were going to start trickling in at any moment. Or at least, he hoped so.
William walked up, squinting against the bright morning sun. “What’re you gonna do if nobody shows?”
Could the other man read his mind? “Come on,” Ethan said, trying to sound casual. “What else are they gonna do on a Saturday in this town?”
“Maybe they’re all on vacation.”
Ethan felt himself starting to lose his temper. “Don’t you have something to do?”
“Ain’t no point in sittin’ in the booth if there’s nobody here,” William said.
“Go and practice,” Ethan suggested, turning away.
He’d put William and Ryan in charge of the information booth because, as Sergeant at Arms and Road Captain, they had the answers to everything that the average person was going to want to know. And also because William had flatly refused to help in any other way, despite Ethan’s suggestions that he’d make a hell of a face painter.
Ethan waved Jimmy over and told him to round everyone up for a meeting at the information booth. A few minutes later all his officers, most of his full patch members, and all the pledges they had were gathered around. The club wasn’t nearly as big as it had been, but Ethan didn’t chase that rabbit. That was one of the things that today was going to fix. Hopefully, anyway.
“Okay, everybody listen up!” he called, making sure to speak loudly enough that they could all hear him over the roar of the air pumps. He looked around at the group solemnly. “This is gonna help our reputation and we all know it,” he said honestly. “But if anybody acts like these veterans are just a means to an end, I will personally hunt you down and kick your ass. Then I’ll kick it to the curb and keep your colors.” He looked around; making sure they all knew he was serious. “Most of us know someone who served this country. Everyone that shows up here today has more than earned some respect. Make sure you show it.”
Once the club had dispersed, Ethan heard a voice behind him.
“I like a man who can give a good speech.”
He turned and the blonde held out a hand. “Hi. It’s--”
“Marta Waters,” Ethan said, shaking her hand.
She smiled. “It’s nice to meet you in person, Ethan. Thanks for calling.”
“Thanks for showing up. I wasn’t really sure it was meaningful enough to make the news.”
“A biker telling Representative Stratton to eat it via charity drive?” Marta’s blue eyes twinkled. “Totally newsworthy.”
“Yeah, but you’re biased,” he said. “With your bike owning uncle and all.”
“No one will know that once I get started,” she said seriously. “Fair and balanced reporting is the name of my game, so be ready for some pointed questions to come your way, too.”
“I can handle that.”
Marta nodded, eyeing him leisurely and thoroughly. “I believe it. You look like a man who could handle just about anything.”
Chapter 10
Amelia
Amelia put the glass of ginger ale down on the table beside the couch and then grabbed the television remote. She made sure to check her temperature once more before she sat down and she was disappointed to see that it was still normal. So why did she feel like she’d been run over?
She leaned her head back against the soft leather of the couch, but that didn’t ease the dizziness. She slid down so she was curled up on her side, knees drawn to her chest. That only made the nausea worse.
With a sigh of frustration, Amelia reached to the end of the couch and pulled the blanket she’d brought down from her room over her. She wasn’t particularly cold, but it was a very old blanket, left to her by her mother and it always made her feel better. So did the flannel pajama pants, the oversized tee shirt she’d had since high school, and the messy bun she’d fixed in desperation after the third time throwing up that morning. Which would make...she’d actually lost count of how many times she’d been sick in the past few weeks.
She had a date with Anthony tonight at eight o’clock and she wanted to rest for as long as she could before she had to get ready. They’d been seeing each other a few times a week for the month and a half that her father had basically had her under lock and key. None of the dates had been memorable and she wasn’t looking forward to this one either. Especially not when all she wanted to do was cuddle up under her blanket and think about Ethan. In her favorite daydream, he rode up on his shiny blue bike and took her away from it all, telling her that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking of her.
Because men loved women whose fathers showed up to yell at them the morning after. With a heavy sigh, Amelia turned the television on and began flicking through the channels, looking for something that would catch her interest. If there was any hope of being happy in the future, she had to stop thinking about Ethan. All it did was make every date with Anthony worse.
The remote fell from her fingers and she actually gasped when the local news channel came on. Ethan filled the screen, as big as life and even more handsome than she remembered him. He was squinting into the bright sun and looking down at the reporter with a smile.
“So, what made you decide to do this event?” the reporter asked, looking up at him and holding the microphone over for him.
That was Marta Waters. Amelia had see
n her at a few events in the political arena. What was she interviewing Ethan for?
“I come from a long line of military guys,” he said. “So it’s familiar to me. I knew more about what they’d need.”
Amelia’s stomach twisted when he spoke. Had she really thought she could get over him? Had she forgotten how low and rough that voice was? The trace of a southern accent still made her heart jump.
“Since I knew what they needed, I thought it would be a good idea to give back to the soldiers who gave up a lot for us. Going through the system for benefits can take time. We’re working with an organization that bridges that gap. Every dollar we raise today goes straight to help vets in need, no fines, no fees. Just help for people who need it.”
“And none of it is to address State Representative Stratton’s view that motorcycle clubs are glorified gangs?” Marta asked, watching him closely.
