by Siobhan Muir
I couldn’t face those looks again.
I braced my hands on my kitchen counter and forced myself to take deep breaths. Fear would only keep me a prisoner. What were a few looks, really? It said more about them than it did about me. I knew the truth of my past. I’d lived it, been there for it. They knew nothing and their opinions about it meant nothing to me. These weren’t my people or my family. None of them had my back.
Scott has your back. Michael does, too.
The thought came out of nowhere, like a blazing shaft of light through the clouds after a thunderstorm. Scott promised and Michael wouldn’t deliberately hurt me. Unless I screwed over the Concrete Angels, they’d have my back as much as their biker siblings. For the first time in over two years, I wasn’t technically alone.
I took a shuddering breath and stood up, opening my eyes. Maybe I could do this. Maybe I could face the rest of the club in the dining room. Maybe their opinions didn’t really affect me because I wasn’t trying to impress them. I just had to impress Loki, and I was well on my way to doing that with the work I’d done in the last two days.
He doesn’t know that, Hunter.
No, but he would tomorrow. Now that I had the accounts organized, it’d be much easier to see the patterns of embezzlement.
A tentative smile curved my lips as I headed into my bedroom to check my appearance. I had to make sure I was dressed to be in public. I’d often forgotten to get dressed or shower when I isolated myself and I didn’t want to do that here.
I found I’d at least put on a T-shirt and shorts, but they appeared as if I’d lived in them for days. So did my body. My hair looked like I’d spent a lot of time pulling it into some retro ’80s style with too much hairspray. Dude, did you totally see Loki’s accounts though? Like gag me with a pitchfork. The Valley Girl accent in my head made me laugh as I took myself into the shower to wash her away.
I forced myself to focus on the present moment as my therapist taught me so I didn’t get too worked up about facing the rest of the club members. Mel had thoughtfully packed me a cute V-necked tank top and a pair of bejeweled capris that hadn’t seen the light of day for over three years. Stress had allowed me to release some weight. Just ignore the ribs sticking out.
I finished my shower and dressed in the tank top and capris then brushed out my hair and grabbed my keys as I stepped out the door. But I hesitated on the threshold and eyed the laptop on the table. I’d logged out so no one could get in without Neo’s help, but that wouldn’t stop someone from snagging it and cracking it elsewhere. I darted back inside and took the laptop into my bedroom, shoving it between the mattress and the box springs.
Better. I locked up the cabin and headed for the clubhouse.
A few of the Scooters were still in the yard, but not the guy who’d accosted me a few days earlier. I’m sure he was around somewhere, but I’d just as soon not see him again. My summer outfit wasn’t much of a deterrent to a determined asshole.
Instead, I straightened my shoulders and strode to the clubhouse like there was somewhere I needed to be. I didn’t look around, but kept an eye on them peripherally. None of them made a move toward me as I shoved through the clubhouse doors.
Though there were several people hanging around watching TV or playing pool, the club’s hierarchy was conspicuously absent. I shot a look at the offices around the main room, but all the doors remained closed. Country music played in the background and a few people danced. Most of the men had a honey hanging on him, some male and some female. Hey, whichever floats your boat. A few of the female honeys watched me walk to the dining area with narrowed eyes as if trying to determine my role as competition.
I mentally shook my head. I hadn’t come for the sex.
Fortunately, the buffet remained in place and I served myself some real fried chicken, mashed potatoes, fried zucchini cubes, and a roll with bits of rosemary in it. My mouth watered and my stomach rumbled as I carried my plate to a table and settled in. The first bite of food damn near made me swoon and I moaned with pleasure.
“Damn, Grub must’ve outdone himself tonight if you moan like that.” Karma’s voice intruded in my savory experience. I opened my eyes to find her grinning at me.
“I don’t know what he normally cooks like, but this is damn good food.” I took the time to drink some water before getting back to my meal.
“Are you feeling better? We haven’t seen much of you in the last couple of days.” Karma settled into the chair across from me.
I shrugged and nodded. “Just going through the financial records. They’re all over the place. It’s taken me a while to untangle them.”
Understatement of the year. Cooked spaghetti was less snarled.
“That bad, huh?”
I nodded again. “I can understand why embezzlement happened. If no one’s clear on where the money is coming from or how much, it’s easy to skim off the top. I don’t know how Loki noticed.”
“Have you found who did it?” A curious tightness filled Karma’s voice.
I pretended not to notice, but I filed that away for consideration. “Not yet. I just got the records straightened out. I’ll start looking for patterns tomorrow.”
“Perfect.” Her tone changed to forced brightness as she smiled. “You should take tonight off and relax a little. Play some pool.”
I shook my head. “Nah. I’m not good company as an outsider. I’m just going to eat and head back to my cabin. Loki’s not paying me to hang out.”
“Aw, come on. Loki and his guys can afford to give you some break time. Hell, if it was up to them, no one would work.” She grinned. “Loosen up, Numbers. You would love pool. It’s all about the numbers.”
“It’s about the angles, which is geometry, not numbers. I didn’t say I hadn’t played, I said I should get back to work.” I kept eating. “The sooner I figure out your embezzler, the sooner you can be rid of me.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You think we want to get rid of you?”
I snorted. “Come on, Karma. I’m a former FBI agent in a notorious motorcycle club. I bet you can’t see my taillights fast enough.”
Karma tilted her head, her expression turning serious. “That’s not it at all, actually. A lot of us are glad you’re here. If we’re losing money, that’s bad for the club.”
“I’m not buying it.” I shook my head as I finished my meal. “Y’all are tolerating me. I’ll never be one of the in-crowd here, and y’all will be worried about what I know. Hell, I’d bet dollars to doughnuts you won’t actually let me leave when I’m done.”
Her expression shifted to curiously blank and she wouldn’t meet my eyes.
Oh shit, they’re not going to let me leave.
Panic shot through my system and I gripped the arms of my chair to keep from bolting. Could I get out of this somehow? I’d seen their records, yes, but only to organize them into coherency. I hadn’t found the embezzler and I hadn’t really figured out which money came from what enterprise. I could conceivably walk away without exposing them.
Yeah, like they’d believe that. I’d seen the records, that was enough. They wouldn’t believe I was unaware of the financial sources. I had to figure out a way to get free of the Concrete Angels, but at the moment my mind sat blank. There was a reason why nefarious groups found a moneyman and keep him or her indefinitely. They couldn’t afford to dismiss someone who knew all their secrets.
“Oh sweet glory.” I swallowed hard to keep my dinner down. “I’m gonna be stuck here with people who hate me because I know too much. Or worse, I’ll have an ‘accident’ and my body will never be found.”
Karma barked a laugh, though she still wouldn’t meet my eyes. “You gotta stop believing what you see on TV about motorcycle clubs.”
I tilted my head and shot her a dry look. “I’m former FBI. I didn’t learn this on TV.”
“Yeah, well, even the FBI doesn’t know everything about us, despite what they think they know.” Karma sat back and crossed her arms
over her chest. “We have legit businesses and pay taxes. Hell, we even give to charities.”
“I know. I’ve seen the records.”
“So, what’s the big deal?”
“Do I really need to explain the problem of a former FBI agent hanging with a more than “legit” motorcycle club?” I snorted as I shook my head. It was time to change the subject. “Where is everyone anyway? I expected them to be in here hanging out.”
She shrugged. “They had some business to check out in Denver this afternoon. They should be back in a few. You done eating?”
“Yeah, why?”
“We’re gonna play a game of pool so you can relax a little.” She helped gather some of dinner items to take to the cleaning bins.
“But—”
“Come on, I know you’re waitin’ on Scott. This will distract you and pass the time.” She dumped my dishes in the bins. “You need something other than work, Numbers.”
“I’m not—”
Karma didn’t wait as she headed for the pool tables in the back of the room. Dammit, I’m not waiting for Scott. But she’d already waved away some of the guys standing around the green felted table and racked the balls. I’d look like an ornery bitch if I didn’t at least join her.
“Come on, Numbers. I promise you’ll like it.” She waved me over.
Oh, I knew I’d like it. I hadn’t played in a while, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know how. In fact, most of the forensic accounting section in the Denver office of the FBI wouldn’t play with me because they couldn’t beat me. I was too good. I’d actually joined a couple of competitions and made big bucks while studying for my degrees in college.
I shuffled toward the table, biting my lower lip. I didn’t want to piss Karma off. She was one of the few Concrete Angels who seemed to like me. At least she was nice to me. I’d have to miss a few shots to make it a bit more fair. Hell, that might even make it a challenge. Could I play “badly” enough to make me average?
“All right. Maybe a few games.”
Karma grinned. “Grab a cue and let’s do this.”
I selected one of the cues from the inset cabinet on the wall and tested its weight and balance before I turned back to the table. The men who’d been lounging around shifted out of the way, probably to get a better view of our asses when we bent over, and settled in chairs around the room.
“No tits on the table!” The shout came from behind Karma and she flipped her middle finger up without looking.
“You break, Numbers.”
I lined up the cue ball and sighted down my arm. It wasn’t unlike sighting down the barrel of a weapon, but this was far more fun. I took my perfect position to sink as many balls as possible and shifted just a little to the left. No point in dissuading Karma to play with me right from the get-go.
I sent the cue ball into the colorful triangle and the balls exploded apart with a satisfying clack. A few dropped in the pockets and started the game on stripes. Despite trying to make it a challenge, most of the shots were easy for me, so I purposefully messed up the third one so Karma could have a shot.
I stood back and watched her line up to shoot, silently critiquing her form. I’d learned a long time ago to keep my thoughts to myself, but I evaluated my opponent and figured out the weaknesses in her game. I shoved my competitive side into the corner and tried to just play for fun.
Karma wasn’t too bad a player and she held her own pretty well, but I made sure to flub shots and throw a couple of games to appear as a skilled but average player. My days of ruling the pool tables were behind me. Despite my best efforts, though, a crowd of Concrete Angels and their honeys, the women they got to enjoy who weren’t attached to any one member, gathered to watch us play. They whistled and cheered when some spectacular shot was made.
“Damn, Numbers can shoot.”
“Fuck yeah. I got a ten spot that says she wins the next game.”
And just like that, the betting started.
Chapter Seven
Scott
Shit, I was bone-tired and hungry and hot, and not in a good way. Samurai had followed Roy into Denver but lost him in some of the seedier parts of town. Neo had tracked him using his cell phone, but Roy turned it off and we were left searching the old-fashioned way. That meant a few of us had to head into town to chase him down.
My gut still grumbled about Roy and his motives. Something about this latest trip of his was hinky but I couldn’t put my finger on what. Fortunately, Loki and Schnoz felt something too.
Two days of fruitless searching turned up nothing but rumor until Roy turned his phone back on when he hit the Longmont exit. We scrambled, headed home before it looked suspicious to him. Not that we’re the ones doing something suspicious. Melrose’s phone had been on, but she’d spent the entire two days at a downtown hotel ordering Netflix and room service. Apparently, her attitude hadn’t improved enough for Roy to get laid. He never visited her there.
Frustration made me snarl as I shoved my way into the clubhouse. But I came to an abrupt stop as a damn fine ass in bejeweled denim met my gaze.
“Holy fuck, Scott. Your woman sure does know how to shoot.” Indiana, a guy who was the spitting image of the original Han Solo, slapped me on the shoulder, his appreciative gaze glued to Oriana’s backside.
She’s not mine. Yet. I wanted her to be, but I hadn’t figured out how to make the move and claim her. She’d made it pretty clear she didn’t like the club’s way of doing things and she wouldn’t be my anything. But I wasn’t giving up anytime soon.
“Yeah, well, keep your eyes off her ass while you’re watchin’ her.” I shoved him out of the way and headed closer to the pool tables.
Oriana sank her shot and stood up, grinning as the crowd erupted into appreciative whistles.
“Damn, honey, that was sweeter than a blowjob.” Karma shook her head with admiration.
“Are you talking about the drink or the activity?” Oriana smirked as she lined up her next shot. “Twelve in the side.”
“The activity. Which side? That one?” Karma pointed to the pocket to Oriana’s left. “You’re gonna make that in there? This I gotta see.”
“Watch and learn.”
Oriana bent over the table, her expression settling into intense focus. She sighted, drew a deep breath then released it a bit and snapped her wrist. The cue hit the cue ball and the damn thing danced around the table, careening off the bumpers, and brushing the six ball to knock the twelve into the side just as she predicted. It also left the cue ball lined up with the eight to make an easy shot into the corner pocket.
The crowd exploded into cheers as she sauntered around the table, winked at Karma, and sank the eight without scratching. She stood up and leaned on her cue.
“You really think my pool shots are sweeter than a blowjob?” She shook her head. “You must not be doing it right.”
The crowd erupted into shouts of amusement and surprise along with whistles of appreciation. It made me laugh and my dick get hard. Damn, how would she know the art of a good blowjob? I didn’t know but I wanted to find out.
Karma laughed and nodded. “Yeah, probably not since I prefer a guy to go down on me.”
“Oh glory, I won’t say no to that. Should I rack the balls for another game?” Oriana twirled the triangle rack between her fingers.
“Yeah, rack ’em hard, Numbers!” Someone shouted it from the back of the room.
“Bring ’em close enough and I’ll grant your wish.” She swung the cue like a baseball bat.
“How would you know what a good blowjob is, Numbers?” I stepped into the circle of people surrounding the table, my anger and frustration draining away.
She rolled her eyes as she gathered the balls out of the pockets. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Hell yeah.” I sauntered over to stand behind her. “If you think you know so much, why don’t I take you back to my cabin for a little pocket pool?” I waggled my eyebrows and the guys around us whistled agai
n. But she shook her head.
“Sorry, I only play on the table.”
“Fine with me.” I strode to the cue rack and selected one. “Let’s play a game and winner gets their choice.”
Oriana raised a brow as she shifted her weight to one leg. “What do I get if I win?”
I shrugged. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
“The first thing will be you don’t get to call me pet names.” She narrowed her eyes. “What do you get if you win?”
“Whatever I want, but we can start with your best blowjob.”
A smirk creased her lips and I had a momentary pang of unease as she nodded. “Okay.”
“Hold up.” Loki’s voice filled the gap as Oriana racked the balls. “I think this needs to be a bit more interesting.”
I swallowed hard. It was never good when Loki wanted things more interesting. “Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?”
“Let’s make this strip pool. For each game you lose, you take off an item of clothing, ja?” He waved at them both. “You look like you each have enough to go for a few games at least. Whoever’s left with the most clothing at the end of, say, five games wins.”
I grinned. “Sounds good to me. You game, Numbers?”
“Yup. You break.” She smirked and some of my bravado left. I was a damn good pool player, but if she was this confident, I’d have to watch out.
Shit-oh-dear, I had no idea.
I sank a couple of balls on the break and went for solids. But after missing the second shot. I didn’t get another chance to touch the cue ball until after she sank all her balls and the eight without scratching. By the fifth game, I was down to my shirt and jeans, and Loki held up his hands to quiet the laughter and betting.
“I think it’s been unfair, ja? You didn’t tell us you were a pool shark, Ms. Hunter.”
“You didn’t ask.” She tilted her head with a smirk. “I believe that by your own rules, I’ve won, and I get my choice of what we do.”
Loki nodded with his own smirk. “Ja, that’s true. But I’m gonna change the rules. Because I can.”
