by J. L. Leslie
“Hi, ma’am. I’m new to the area, and I thought this was the courthouse. Can you tell me where to find it?”
Without seeing this guy, I can tell that he’s full of shit. He’s scoping the place out. He wanted to see who was in here. This building is clearly not the courthouse. It has the name in large letters right out front. Plus, any dumbass with GPS can find the courthouse.
“I’m sorry, sir, what was your name again?” Mackenzie asks politely.
“Well, I didn’t give it to you,” he answers smartly. “But it’s Warren Mathis, ma’am.”
I don’t recognize his name, but Mackenzie’s leg begins to bounce, and I know that’s a nervous habit of hers. She must know who he is.
“Mr. Mathis‒”
“Warren,” he interrupts. “Just Warren, please.”
“Warren, the courthouse is located just one block over. This is the DEA’s office. Surely, you don’t want to be here.”
“No, ma’am,” he laughs. “My mistake. Are you the only one here?”
“There are agents on duty.”
“You just answer the phone?” he questions her.
Like I said, scoping the place out. Mackenzie handles herself well even though her leg is still bouncing like crazy. I’m curious as to who this guy is and why he’s scoping out the DEA office.
“I thought you were looking for the courthouse, Warren.”
“Yes, ma’am. Heading there now. Thank you for your time, ma’am. Enjoy your lunch.”
I hear the chime again and lean over and bite Mackenzie’s thigh, eliciting a squeal from her. I’m laughing as I crawl out from underneath her desk.
“That was weird,” I giggle. “Ma’am.”
“Yeah. I wonder why the Rykers’ president was snooping around here. They’ve disbanded, and they weren’t even in L.A.”
“My guess would be that he’s found a new club.”
I reach past her and grab my burger. She kicks me with her foot and I scowl at her.
“He knows someone else was here.”
I look down at my burger. Shit.
“You know, you kind of rushed me into hiding like I was some kind of secret lover,” I say, and take a bite. “Maybe he didn’t notice.”
Mackenzie rolls her eyes. “We aren’t talking about those idiot kids that tried to steal a piece of pussy from you outside the diner last night. He definitely noticed.”
“Well, he doesn’t know it was me,” I remind her. “No one knows who we are except for Jiminez and he only knows you and Donia.”
“And we want to keep it that way.”
I take another bite of my burger. “Do we? I mean, maybe it’s time we come out of hiding.”
She rolls her eyes, letting me know that’s not an option.
Chapter Seven
Lucien
I screw the cap onto the bottle of oil I’m holding and toss it into the garbage can behind me. We need more oil and a few other supplies. I take the drain pan and empty it then head over to the sink to wash my hands.
“And you didn’t see anyone else there?” I ask Warren, drying my hands off. He shakes his head.
“But I’m positive there was someone else there. The woman had food in front of her, and there was another burger on the counter too, a bite already taken from it. She was hiding someone from me, but I don’t know why.”
“So, she knew who you were?”
“Maybe. She could be the DEA connection. She seemed nervous, bouncing her fucking leg like crazy.”
He seems sure of it, and I have no reason to doubt him. I’m certain he trusts his instincts just as I trust mine. I would be suspicious of a woman having two different meals in front of her and no one else in sight.
“I asked if there was anyone else working and she didn’t give me any names. Just said there were agents on duty.”
“What’d she look like? Was she wearing a name badge?”
“Nope, no name badge. She had blondish-brown hair. Shoulder-length or so. Not bad on the eyes, but she had fucking attitude.”
“I wonder who she’s working for. You think it’s the Jiminez connection or could she be working for the Sicarios?” I ask him.
“I honestly couldn’t say, Lucien. I’m not all that familiar with the clubs in this area. Verdana is more my forte,” he explains. “You could call Griffin and see if he knows anything about the DEA here. I mean, he has connections.”
The mention of Griffin makes my jaw clench. I prefer not to talk to Spencer’s old man about anything. When I left Verdana, he understood that although on paper I’m officially his informant, I would not be contacting him again.
“I’ll think about it,” I tell him. “You doing the fight?”
“Might as well. I know there are a few people who want a chance to get at the last of the Ryker blood. Reid said there are already twenty entries. Fucker charged 5K a pop and had Harco set up a betting site. Apparently, since he got his dick stabbed he’s gotten pretty good at computer shit.”
“Good. We need the money. That fucker Ford screwed this club. I don’t know how we stayed afloat as long as we did.”
“Paid most of the right people.”
“It would seem so. The mayor and chief of police are still happy, not to mention that piece of shit judge that likes the club whores. If your supplier agrees to give us some product then we should be back on track. I don’t believe we’ve lost our buyers just yet.”
“I know the shit is premium, at least seventy percent pure. I might also have a few high-dollar buyers from the Rykers’ contacts. Cal liked mingling with some important people. I’ll reach out.”
“I appreciate that,” I let him know.
I’m learning that Warren is becoming one of my more valued prospects. He’ll earn his cut quickly. He definitely deserves it. Ian has a little ways to go to prove himself, but he’s getting there.
“Jiminez get his shit picked up?” he asks me, and I nod.
“Sent his men this morning. Also entered a couple into the fight.”
I climb onto my bike and back it out of the garage. I grab my helmet and strap it on. Warren follows me outside and lights up a cigarette.
“Let me know what you find out. I’ll be back later.”
Harper
I adjust the basket on my arm and walk around to the next aisle. I nearly stumble over a man squatted down on the floor. He stands up straight and gives me a confused look, obviously wondering why I’m in the auto parts store.
“Are you stalking me now?” I ask him, and he smiles.
“Is this how stalking works? I get to places before you do and then arrange it so you bump into me?” There’s amusement in his voice, and I can’t help but smile. “Do you need help finding something?”
Now, it’s my turn to tease him. “Oh, you work here?”
He chuckles, and I feel my nipples harden against the thin fabric of my tank top. Holy shit. He notices and licks his lips. I kick myself for not wearing a bra today.
“Um, no I don’t work here. Just figured most women don’t know their way around a store like this.”
His eyes casually glance down to my rock-hard nipples again, and I blush. My core clenches and so that I don’t draw his attention there, I walk past him and grab the item I need off the shelf.
“Not sure when you’ll realize that I am not most women,” I quip. “I’ve found that the Amsoil Synthetic 20W-50 oil is best for my Harley Sportster. It doesn’t leave buildup and…”
My voice trails because Lucien is staring at me like I’ve grown a second head. I realize that I just revealed to him that I own a motorcycle. The couple of times he’s seen me, I’ve walked home.
“The diner is so close to my house that I rarely drive it,” I explain. “And Layla’s school is also in walking distance.”
He furrows his brow. “You have a motorcycle? And a daughter?”
“You don’t think I can handle a bike?” I tease, ignoring his question about Layla, and he grins.
&n
bsp; “I think you’re very capable of handling something large and powerful between your legs,” he comments, his implication of what else I could handle between my legs very clear. “We should go riding together sometime.”
“Hmm, I doubt it.”
He looks somewhat disappointed. “Why not?”
I grab another bottle of oil and put it into my basket. “You ride with the Sinners, and I can’t affiliate myself with them, or you either.”
“Do you belong to someone else? Another club?”
It’s funny that he asks this. I know he’s asking if I’m someone else’s old lady. It has never crossed his mind that I could be in a club myself. L.A. is not known for having all-female motorcycle clubs. Really, no city is known for that.
“I don’t belong to anyone, Lucien.”
This makes him smile and fuck me, there go my nipples again. His eyes drift down to them, and I swear I hear a low growl come from his throat.
I start to cross my arms over my chest but decide against it. I want to hear him make that sound again.
“You never told me your name,” he says.
“You never asked me for it.”
“Tell it to me over lunch,” he suggests.
I shrug, causing my tits to perk in my flimsy tank top. “That depends. I don’t usually go eat where I work.”
I’m flirting with him. I am fucking flirting with the man who killed Gavin. Maybe Mackenzie had a point. Maybe fucking him first and then killing him would be a good thing. It would destroy him to know that the woman he was sharing his bed with is also the woman who put a bullet through his head.
I could steal his heart and steal his last breath.
Chapter Eight
Lucien
It’s been a long time since I’ve had a woman on the back of my bike. It feels pretty fucking good. Her arms are holding tight around my waist, causing her tits to press against my back. Her thighs are molded to my legs. Her chin rests on my shoulder.
I coast down the freeway at a steady speed, weaving in and out of traffic with our stuff tucked in my saddle bags. When I find a long stretch and an opening, I gun it, and I hear her laughter in my ear. She was made to be on the back of my bike.
I pull off the freeway and take a right. I see the place just ahead. I was surprised to find out it was still open when I got out. Locally owned restaurants don’t always fare well. Chain restaurants usually overrun the city.
I park and shut the engine off. She climbs off first, and then I follow suit. She stands with her hands on her hips, surveying the place.
“It doesn’t look like much, but it has the best shrimp po’boys in L.A.”
“What if I don’t like shrimp?” she asks as she follows me inside.
“Then they have burgers too.”
She laughs. “Maybe I’m a vegetarian.”
I stop dead in my tracks. “Then we should end this now.”
She shakes her head with a smile, assuring me she is indeed a meat-eater. We take a seat at an empty table outside, both of us enjoying the sun on our skin. We order a couple of cokes and shrimp po’boys. The place isn’t packed but there are several other patrons that have opted to eat outside as well.
“So, your name?” I ask her.
“Harper Ryland.”
“Harper Ryland, tell me why you can’t affiliate yourself with my club or me?” I ask, cutting to the chase.
She arches her eyebrow at me. “Your club?”
“I’m the president of the Sinners.”
I see her shift in her seat when I tell her this, but if it makes her nervous, she covers it quickly. I wanted her to know the truth though. If she knows about the Sinners, then she should know who I am to them.
It may take me some time to trust people, but I have no fucking problem being open with them and who I am and what I’ve done. There’s no need in painting this picture of me that I cannot ever live up to.
“I’ve seen what clubs like yours do to people and I don’t want any part of that life,” she answers honestly, and I see something flicker in those hazel eyes of hers.
“I won’t lie to you, Harper. We’re not good people. We do things we shouldn’t, but we protect those we care about. We always have, and we always will.”
“Hmm, and what about those you don’t care about, Lucien? What do you do to those people? What happens to them?”
She’s practically glaring at me, daring me to answer her honestly. I can’t find it in myself to lie to her. No point in loading her full of bullshit.
“We kill them.” She leans back in her chair but doesn’t flinch or seem affected in any way. “If they cross us or harm one of our members, then we kill them. But I get the feeling you knew that already.”
“You know, if you’re trying to score another date, then telling me you kill people is probably not the best way to do that,” she half-smiles, lightening the mood.
“I didn’t want to lie to you.”
“I probably shouldn’t lie to you either then.”
I take a sip of my coke, and the waitress chooses that moment to deliver our food. I thank her for the food, not so patiently waiting for Harper to finish talking.
I know there’s more to her than meets the eye. She’s not only some waitress at a shitty diner. I knew that the night she tried to take on three boys. I knew that the moment I saw her land her right hook on that kid. She didn’t hesitate to fight.
She also didn’t run at my words a moment ago. She didn’t even bat an eye at being seated across from a killer. That’s what I am and she knows it.
She’s still here.
Harper
I can tell he’s anxious to know what I’m going to say. He has thanked the waitress for our food and she’s still standing here, refilling our drinks.
I can truly say that I am shocked that he was so forthcoming about the Sinners. That he just came out and said they kill people. I already knew that of course, but to hear him say it so casually is both shocking and refreshing. I like that he’s not trying to bullshit me into believing he’s this good guy with a good heart. That he doesn’t do awful things to people when we both know better than that.
“So, I won’t lie to you,” I tell him. “I prefer beer over coke.”
He nearly chokes on the food he’s chewing, and I laugh. I watch him take a sip of coke, and he coughs right after.
“Was it the military or prison?” I ask him. “You scarf your food down like you only have two minutes to eat it.”
He looks somewhat embarrassed, but then he answers, “Prison. I did three years for murder. Sometimes I felt that I did only have two minutes to eat.”
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You did just admit that your club kills people.”
He nods slowly. “True, but I was convicted of a murder that I did not commit, although I am not innocent by any means, Harper.”
“Isn’t that what everyone in prison says? They all claim to be innocent of the crime they were convicted of. If that were true, our prisons wouldn’t be overcrowded.”
“Yes, that’s very true, but I know who killed the man I was convicted of murdering.”
I take a bite of my sandwich and process what he’s saying. He’s talking about Gavin. I do realize that. That’s where he’s been the past three years. It has to be. He was convicted of killing Gavin while his club thought he was dead.
To hear him say that he’s innocent and knows the guilty party is like a slap to the face. He doesn’t seem to mind admitting the things he’s done, but he’s declaring that he was wrongfully convicted when I’ve believed for years that Gavin died at his hands. If he didn’t do it, then who did?
All this time everyone thought he died the same night Gavin did. Both burned in the fire that was set, and that consumed several men’s lives. He didn’t die though. I can see faint burn scars at the edge of his shirt around his neck. They’re barely noticeable, but they are definitely there.
“You know, this is pretty heavy conversation
for a first date,” I tell him, and he smiles.
“So, this is a first date?”
“I assume you’re paying, right?” I laugh.
“I did invite you, so yes, I’m paying. I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t.”
I shake my head at him. “You’re no gentleman, Lucien. I know what you’re being called. A demon. The Revenant. Definitely not being called a gentleman.”
I know he’s far from a gentleman. He may have offered to drive me home for my safety, but I can guarantee, his intentions aren’t gentlemanly. Not with the way he looks at my boobs.
“You don’t seem to be afraid of me though.”
“Me?” I scoff. “I’m not afraid of anyone.”
He props his elbows on either side of his plate, staring at me. “Then I don’t understand why you can’t be affiliated with me, as you put it.”
“It’s not about me. I have Layla to think about. I don’t think you’re the type of guy who wants a woman who has a kid to raise, Lucien, but I have responsibilities, and you don’t seem like the type that understands the type of responsibilities I have. Sure, we could have fun together, but that would be it, and I don’t know that I want to get into that.”
Even as I’m saying this, I feel a sting of disappointment at rejecting him. My feelings are very back and forth about him. One minute I like the idea of pulling him in so that I can push him away, destroy him even, and the next, I think it’s best if I keep my distance. I’m normally not so wishy-washy, but he has me in knots.
“Harper, I told you my club protects its own. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you or Layla if you were to get involved with me. You have my word on that.”
For some reason, I believe him. Damn it, I believe every word he’s said, including that he didn’t kill Gavin. I’m just not certain where that leaves me.
Chapter Nine
Lucien
Harper’s hands slowly drop to my sides as I pull up to a stop outside her house. I don’t kill the engine on my bike, not wanting her to think that I presume I’m coming inside. I know she has to go get her kid from school soon anyway. I do pull my helmet off as she climbs off my bike though.
