“So you know who the ninth member is, then?” Mitchell asks excitedly.
“Wh-what?” I stammer, caught off guard.
“The newest guy of Dante’s Nine. Who is he?” my boss presses, nodding at the blank space among the club’s roster hanging on the wall.
“Oh. Uh. His name is Brooks. Caleb Brooks,” I say, trying to keep my voice light. Why does it feel like such a betrayal, speaking his name in this building? If Brooks and the others are innocent, then no harm will come from my relaying this information. Right?
“Excellent work, Collins,” Mitchell says, clapping me on the shoulder. “It was risky, going in there without giving us a heads up. But you took a chance and came back with some great information. It was never the plan to have you working outside of CrowdedNest, but I think we should reevaluate that—”
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Bruno growls from across the room. His face is turning bright red, and his meaty hands are balled into fists.
“What’s the problem, Bruno?” Mitchell sighs.
“The problem is that she’s a rookie,” Bruno spits. “She’s going to come traipsing into my part of the investigation and fuck everything up.”
“Last night was a success,” I remind him, raising an eyebrow. “What, are you above having another agent help you—?”
“Last night was beginners luck,” he says, waving away my assertions. “You’re not ready for this, Collins. You have no idea what you’re doing. I’ve been working on this investigation for months. Operation Inferno is my case.”
“Our case,” I correct him.
“Like hell,” he growls.
“Enough,” Mitchell says, cutting us both off, “quit squabbling, would you? Quinn, proceed carefully with your part of the investigation. If there’s another opportunity to spend time at the Forty-Five Club, go ahead and take it. Keep gathering information as it comes to you, but make investigating CrowdedNest your priority.”
“Got it,” I smile.
“And Bruno,” Mitchell goes on, “Your investigation has been focused on the Devil’s Playpen, not the Forty-Five Club. You should still have plenty of room to do things your way around the Wraiths’ compound. Keep your focus on the porn company, keep trying to get information from the girls. That’s where the bulk of the tips have been coming from, after all.”
Bruno nods his head, once. His anger doesn’t seem at all abated, just swallowed. He’s pissed as hell that I dared to take one step toward “his turf”. Seems like a counterproductive attitude to me. If my getting access to Dante’s Nine helps the case, shouldn’t he be thrilled that I’m making progress? His swollen ego is preventing him from seeing what an asset I could be to this investigation. I’ll just have to go ahead and prove how valuable I can be.
“Keep up the good work, both of you,” Mitchell concludes, “I can feel us getting closer to a break here. In a couple weeks’ time, we could be pressing charges and saying goodbye to these clubs forever.”
“A couple weeks?” I ask, taken aback. “That’s it?”
“That’s my timeline,” Mitchell confirms, “Shouldn’t take longer than that to turn up any dirt, if there’s dirt to be found. If we can’t find anything to nail these guys on after another two weeks, we’ll need to back off and reevaluate. So get cracking, both of you. No time to waste.”
Bruno and I turn to go in unison. The bull of a man charges past me through the office door, but this time I hold my ground. I’m through letting him bully me. We’re both federal agents, after all. He’s not entitled to any more respect because he happens to be a man, or because he has a couple of decades on me. We were both brought onto this case for a reason—because we could do good work. And that’s just what I intend to do.
Even if that does mean investigating the people I’m beginning to think of as my friends.
Chapter Ten
“Hey there, sunshine,” Kelly smirks, opening the door bearing the gilded B.
“Thanks for letting me take the afternoon shift, as it were,” I grin bashfully, slipping into the sleek, modern suite. I swung home between leaving the FBI and coming here to change out of last night’s clothes. I’ve opted for a pair of boyfriend jeans and a loose black tank today, and my hair hangs in its natural red curls. I didn’t have enough time to shower, but I’m certainly looking more put together than I did when I rolled out of Brooks’ bed.
“We were all in rough shape this morning,” Kassie laughs from the kitchen. “Speaking of, can I get you some coffee?”
“God yes,” I breathe, slinging my large handbag onto the wooden table we use as a collective desk.
The suite is filled with warm sunlight, streaming in through the tall windows. Vegas churns on beneath us, active even at this time of day. In a couple of hours the very air above Sin City will be golden, before the sky gives way to the pulsing neon fever dream of night.
Kassie sets three mugs on the table and tips the rich contents of the French press into them. I sip my excellent cup of coffee, still unaccustomed to drinking anything so fine. These girls may be biker broads, but I’m learning that the home lives of these MC members are often much more luxurious than their reputations would suggest.
“So,” Kelly says, crossing her arms and studying me, “you have a good time last night?”
I meet her gaze gamely. Kelly is a spitfire, but I’m none too timid myself. “I did,” I reply.
“You and Brooks were getting awfully cozy,” Kassie remarks, “did you guys...?”
“No,” I cut her off, “we didn’t. I passed out at some point, and Brooks kept me company until morning.”
“But you did hook up, right?” Kelly presses.
“There may have been a little hooking up,” I allow, remembering the moment we kissed beneath the sprawling sky. The moment I tasted him for the first time. “But nothing past a little friendly making out, I promise.”
“Hey, you don’t have to answer to us,” Kassie says, elbowing Kelly. “What you do after hours is your business. We can’t exactly caution you to stay away from bad boy bikers, can we? I’m sure Brooks is a good guy, in the end. I mean, Declan vouches for him.”
“I was hoping to set you up with Tyke,” Kelly sighs. “Guess I’m not the best matchmaker. Though there is a new girl at the Devil’s Playpen who might go for him...”
“You’re a crazy person,” Kassie says, rolling her eyes.
“Takes one to know one,” Kelly returns. “But anyway, Keira, if you want Brooks, you should go for it. Trust me, biker sex can be—”
“Can you please not try to scare our new employee away before her first week is up?” Kassie cuts in.
“Actually, I’m kind of curious,” I admit. “I mean, I imagine the sex is incredible. But beyond that, how did you guys find yourselves shacked up with the VPs of two of Vegas’s most influential MC’s?”
“Did some research about the subject, huh?” Kassie teases.
“You caught me,” I demur, kicking myself for showing my hand. Luckily, the girls don’t seem to notice. “Guess I’m just curious about the life, is all.”
“Let me put it this way,” Kelly says, leaning toward me over the table, “falling in love with a guy like Leo, or Declan—even Brooks—it realigns your whole world. The way you think about everything flips on its head. Even the way you think of yourself. Being loved, desired, by a man that powerful makes you feel like a goddamn goddess. I highly recommend it, actually.”
I look between Kassie and Kelly, relieved that their reservations about Brooks seem to have lifted. They seem to really want me to fall for him. Or at least let him take me for a ride. Jesus, there really must be something to this whole bad boy thing if they endorse it so wholeheartedly.
“Doesn’t it ever bother you, though?” I ask carefully. “The fact that your old men aren’t exactly on the right side of the law?”
“Here’s the thing about the law, Keira;” Kassie says, shaking her blonde hair off her shoulders, “there may be two sides
, by that’s doesn’t mean there’s necessarily a right one.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Law enforcement, the police, the government,” Kassie goes on, waving her hand dismissively, “they all claim to have some moral high ground. But what gives them the right to impose their morality on the rest of us? Especially when most of the time, it’s only their own best interests they’re looking out for.”
“How many laws that exist in this country actually serve to protect those who need protecting?” Kelly goes on. “The fundamental rules that govern this country were put in place two hundred years ago. Since then, lawmakers, and law enforcers, have been more concerned with protecting rich people’s rights and property than anything else.”
“Don’t you think that’s a bit of a generalization?” I ask, bristling at the implication that what I do as an FBI agent is morally corrupt.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Kassie shrugs. “All I’m saying is that morality isn’t black and white. And anyone who claims otherwise, the government included, is lying. Dante’s Nine and the Devil’s Wraiths have broken the laws of the land more times than anyone can count, and they’ve paid the price each time. But no threat of punishment is going to keep them from living the way they feel is honest. They protect their brothers and families, they don’t go out of their way to hurt anyone, and they’re fierce about their honor and their beliefs. And I’ve come to admire that immensely.”
“But people still do get hurt, don’t they?” I say softly, my baby brother’s face swimming up in my mind’s eye. “There are innocent people who get hurt when people don’t follow the law, aren’t there?”
“There are innocent people who get hurt when this country legally goes to war, too,” Kelly says. “There are innocent people wrongly killed by the law, by the government. It’s an imperfect system, Keira. The MC life just preaches living fully and protecting your own before the system can screw you over for good.”
For the first time, I find myself considering Brandon’s death in another light. A stray bullet hit him during a shootout between the cops and a local gang. But what if the bullet itself came from one of the cop’s guns, rather than a gang member’s? Would that change anything?
No. I can’t start thinking like this. Not now.
“Sorry, that was a little much,” Kelly says, noticing my pensive expression.
“It’s fine,” I tell her, snapping out of it. “Just...a lot to think about.”
“Remember,” Kelly smiles, “throwing yourself into the MC life is not a requirement of this job. We just don’t want you to write it off without considering—”
“Why don’t we just get back to the task at hand?” Kassie suggests. “Kelly and I have to head out and meet a potential investor this afternoon. Will you be OK working here on your own for a while, Keira?”
Jackpot. A little alone time to snoop around the CrowdedNest files is just what I need.
“Sure,” I reply, “that’s no problem at all. Just let me know what you need to me do.”
“If you could just familiarize yourself with our SEO and marketing strategies today, that would be incredibly helpful,” Kassie goes on, “You should be able to access everything you need through our shared internet connection. We’ve authorized your computer. We’ll be gone for the rest of the day, so feel free to ship off when you’re finished. We trust you.”
Ugh. This whole snooping thing would be a whole lot easier if I didn’t feel so guilty about going behind Kassie and Kelly’s backs. I need to find a way to stay unattached around here, no matter how awesome my new employers happen to be.
“Sounds like a plan,” I say, opening up my laptop. “You two go ahead, I’ll be fine here.”
Kelly and Kassie head out after a few more words of instruction. I listen as the elevator doors whistle shut and look around the impressive suite. I’m alone with all the intelligence I could possibly need about CrowdedNest.com. How’s that for good luck?
I set to work at once, pulling up the shared folder that contains every bit of information concerning the crowd-funding site. There are banking statements, investor breakdowns, personnel information, marketing outlines, the works. Time to start digging. I download a copy of the entire folder onto my own laptop first thing, so I can keep up my investigation at home.
As I begin to peruse the files, I’m struck by how ultra-professional everything is. Kassie and Kelly both studied computer science at Berkeley, I learn from the marketing materials, so it’s no surprise that they know their shit. That also means that they’re probably pretty good at covering shit up, if need be. But it takes a computer nerd to know a computer nerd. With my own degree, I’d say we’re pretty evenly matched.
The further I dig into the CrowdedNest files, the more legit everything looks. Sure, Declan offered the startup cash, and money was shifted from the CrowdedNest account to pay for the construction of the Dante’s Nine auto shop, but none of that is obscured in these reports. It’s as though Kassie and Kelly are trying to be as transparent as possible about the fact that club and site funds are fluid. It’s ballsy of them. They’re not making any effort to hide how involved they are in their MC’s. They may not be married to Leo and Dec, but they’re plenty entwined in other ways.
Just as I’m about to give Mitchell a call to ask about the initial tips against CrowdedNest, I hear the elevator doors open once more. My heart flies into my throat as I close out of the various files I have pulled up on my computer. Sure, I’ve been granted access with the girls’ knowledge, but they may start to wonder about my motives if they see me trolling through their every little file.
I look up as the front door clatters open. Relief and excitement spark simultaneously through my brain as Brooks strides into the suite. His bare, bulging arms are run-through with thick veins. His face is flushed, and engine grease lingers on his exposed skin—almost like an extra set of tattoos. He looks like he’s been hard at work in the garage all morning. But the second he lays eyes on me, alone in the apartment, his tired eyes blaze to life.
“Hey, Red,” he says, closing the door behind him. “I was hoping I’d find you here.”
“Been rolling around in the mud all day, Brooks?” I ask, standing to face him. I lean back against the long wooden table, unconsciously arching my back just a bit. Brooks’ eyes skirt down along the length of my body, lingering on my breasts as they rise with every breath. Those breaths come faster as he approaches, advancing like a lion closing in on his prey.
“Been working all day,” he grins, closing the distance between us. “Not that you’d know what real work is, sitting behind this computer all day.”
“Oh please,” I say, rolling my eyes, “we both play with toys all day. You’ve got your grownup Hot Wheels, I’ve got my grownup Gameboy. I don’t see much of a difference.”
“I told you,” Brooks says, as he places his hands on the edge of the table, boxing me in, “I don’t play games.”
“That much is abundantly clear,” I breathe, amazed at the sudden, brazen closeness of him. My entire body reacts to his presence, begs for his expert touch.
“I’ve been thinking about you ever since you left this morning,” he says, his voice rich and rasping.
“That so?” I ask, as he inches in ever closer. “What have you been...thinking?”
“I’ve been thinking about how sweet you taste,” he growls, brushing his lips against my neck, “how sexy you’d look in nothing but my tee shirt,” he wraps a strong arm around me, drawing me close. “How I’d give anything to get you alone...”
“Well look at that,” I breathe, taking his bearded face in my hands, “you’ve got me.”
Surprise and satisfaction surge through the green pools of his eyes. “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s been thinking things over,” he says.
“I don’t want to play games either, Brooks,” I say, sliding my hands along his firm chest, “It’s like you said. You want me, I want you. Why fight it?”
; “That’s more like it,” he grins.
We pick up right where we left off this morning, like not a moment has passed. Now that we’re alone, I don’t have to keep my desire at bay. My lust has been growing all day long, boiling over inside of me. How can someone I just met do this to me?
With no effort at all, Brooks picks me up off the ground, setting me down on the long table before him. My legs part to accommodate his huge, powerful body. Without thinking, I hook my ankles beneath his perfectly sculpted ass, tugging him closer to me. My sex is throbbing with anticipation as he presses against me, running his hands along my sides.
“I could lay you out across this table and fuck you right now,” he growls, resting his hands on my inner thighs. Words fail me as his fingers inch upward, closer and closer to that place between my legs that’s been aching for him. Whether I’ve admitted it to myself or not, I’ve wanted this since the first moment I laid eyes on him. And I want it now more than ever.
“Do what you want,” I whisper, letting my knees fall farther apart, “I just want you to take me, Brooks”
“You want someone who can control you, huh?” he growls, running a thumb along the inseam of my jeans. My head falls back as I feel him brush against the length of my sex, a mere layer of fabric standing between me and those hands. “You want someone to conquer you. Tame you. You’ve never had that, have you?”
“Never,” I breathe, my entire world narrowing to the feel of his hands running along my crotch. Brooks pushes me back onto my forearms, and I fall against the long desk. He lowers himself to me, pushing his hands up under my tank top. I shiver as his fingers dance along my bare skin, tremble at the thought of him stripping me down right here on the table.
“I could touch you all day,” he growls, lowering his lips to the naked, taut stretch of my stomach, “If I thought you could handle it, that is.”
Impulsively (Dante's Nine MC) Page 9
