by Jessie Cooke
7
“Beezy, I need you to take Franklin and Scar and head over to the warehouse. The truck will be there by noon. Perez and Malcolm are already there but I want to make sure this transfer goes without a hitch.”
“Sure thing. Once it’s unloaded, then what?” Beezy was five foot four in his boots. He and Dax went to school together as kids, and Dax had been impressed with the little guy the first time he met him. He had a form of little man syndrome, the part that compelled him to work out almost compulsively so that what he lacked in height, he made up for in muscle. But he wasn’t quick to pick a fight and prove to anyone that he was just as tough as the guys that stood six-foot-four. He had a good head on his shoulders, and Dax respected that more than anything. A lot of people looked at the members of a motorcycle club and saw the way they dressed and wore their hair, their tattoos, or their facial hair and from that somehow assumed that they were some of the least intelligent beings on the planet. That pissed him off because as far as he was concerned, nothing could be further from the truth.
“Andrew Fish will be there by two with the cash and his own truck. Y’all hang out until he’s loaded and gone and then head back.”
“Alright, boss, you got it.” Beezy grabbed a donut off the tray that one of the club girls was circulating around the great room. Her name was Gail and she was a beautiful woman. She was about forty, with soft brown hair that framed her face and gorgeous dark blue eyes. She had a killer body, nice firm tits, and a small waist that a man could get his hands around. Her hips flared and her butt was just big and round enough to jiggle slightly when she walked. Dax had fucked her more than once, but when he saw that look in Beezy’s eye he almost laughed. Gail was six foot two in her socks. The top of Beezy’s head came up to the bottom of her tits. Dax watched as she bent down and Beezy whispered something in her ear and then smacked her square on the ass. She was smiling and her face was bright red. If Dax hadn’t been looking forward to seeing Angel again since he first opened his eyes this morning, he might just join them, simply to watch.
The two of them left the room together just as Angel stepped into it. She still had on the same clothes as the day before and her face was scrubbed clean of all the make-up she’d been wearing…but she was still abso-fucking-lutely fuckable. Dax felt his cock practically do a somersault in his jeans at the sight of her. He got up and met her halfway across the room.
“Good morning. How’d you sleep?”
“Really well,” she said. “Too well, actually. I guess I had a little more to drink than I realized.”
“That was probably my fault. You want some coffee?”
“That sounds good,” she said. “I just had one cup at the house. At home I’m used to drinking a whole pot by myself.”
“Find a comfortable seat and I’ll get you a cup. You want breakfast?”
Angel patted her flat belly. “Oh, no thank you. The girls filled me up.”
Dax smiled at her and went over to where the large coffee pot sat on a table near the little bar. He poured her a cup and then went back over to the table where she’d just taken a seat. He sat down next to her, placing the sugar and creamer packets down in front of her. She picked up the cup and held it between both of her hands, closed her pretty eyes, and inhaled it. Dax was in awe of the fact that a woman inhaling the scent of coffee might just be the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. “So, what are your plans for the day?”
“I suppose I should go get my car and get back on the road…”
“I thought you didn’t have to be in Hartford until tomorrow? It’s only a few hours from here. Why not spend the day with me…and another night here…and head out tomorrow?”
She took a sip of her coffee and looked like she was thinking about it. Dax wondered why a woman like her was single. He wondered if it was a break-up or a bad relationship that had her packing up and changing her whole life. He wondered more about her than he had any woman in a long time. He’d heard about that instant chemistry that some people have—the kind that made you feel like you had known someone forever—but this was the first time he’d ever experienced it and he wasn’t ready to let it go.
“What did you have in mind?” she asked. “For the day?”
He grinned and let his tongue rake across his bottom lip. He wasn’t sure but he thought he saw her shudder. “How about a ride on the bike?”
It was a beautiful day. Dax had been wanting to get away to the beach for a while, but the timing had just been all wrong. It probably wasn’t right now, but he didn’t care. He wanted nothing more than a three-hour drive with Angel pressed into his back and a walk on the beach…and a hell of a lot more, if she was up for it.
“Okay, where are we going?”
“Wherever the road takes us.” He saw hesitation in her face for just a split second but then she said:
“Okay, but can we go by where my car is so that I can change clothes?”
“Sure.”
“Alright then, I’m ready.” She smiled suddenly, like she was excited, up for an adventure. Dax liked that. He loved spontaneity bordering on impulsiveness. He thought it was probably one more reason that he was so attracted to her.
Dressed in a sexy pair of dark blue jeans, black boots with no heel, and a long-sleeved black and white t-shirt, Angel climbed off the back of the bike almost three hours later. She looked like she was struggling to hold herself up, and Dax did his best to suppress a smile.
“Legs a little shaky?”
“Um…yeah, just a little. When you said we were going for a drive I had no idea you meant all the way to Mystic.”
“Would you have turned me down if you knew?”
She smiled. “Probably not. My dad used to bring me here when I was little. This seaport is actually one of my favorite places.”
Dax got off the bike and took the helmet she’d just pulled off out of her hands. He hung it over the handlebars and reached for her hand. She hesitated again, just for a second, and then she gave it to him. He’d touched a lot more than her hand the night before on the dance floor, but he suspected she’d been a little too drunk to remember most of that. He was looking forward to giving her a time that she wouldn’t ever be able to forget.
He led her by the hand through the parking lot and down the long sidewalk in front of the shipyard. He loved the look in her eyes as she gazed out at the big old historic boats. She said she went there with her father, but the look in her pretty eyes was one of pure wonder, like a child seeing it all for the first time. They stopped and looked out at the Charles W. Morgan, an old whaleship built in the mid-1800s. It was always Dax’s favorite. His own father had brought him here a time or two as a kid, and sometimes Dax thought about just hopping on one of those big fishing boats and leaving the stress of the life he lived behind. He didn’t think he’d ever do it. He loved his club and for the most part he loved his life. He hated this constant looking over his shoulder they’d all had to do lately, however. He couldn’t wait for that shit to be over with.
“Are you hungry?”
“Surprisingly, three hours on the back of a Harley sped up my digestion or something. I feel like I haven’t eaten in a week.”
He laughed. “Good, I’m starving too. Have you ever been to the Steak Loft?”
“That big barn-looking place in the village?”
“Yep.”
“No, but I love the building.”
“You’re going to love the steak too.” They walked down the quaint old cobblestone sidewalks through the historic village until they came to the giant old barn that housed the best steakhouse in Connecticut, as far as Dax was concerned. Once they were seated and had their drinks and their orders in he said, “So tell me, Angel, how does a woman like you not have a man in her life?”
“Who said that I don’t?”
“I guess I just assumed. You talk about leaving Boston and moving to Hartford, but you don’t mention anyone else moving with you.”
She made a face and then
said, “My fiancé and I broke up about six months ago. It was kind of a rough break-up and I haven’t really dated much since. It’s actually another reason that I’m looking forward to a fresh start. Things went all bad there at the end.”
“Sorry to hear that…shit, what am I saying? I’m not really sorry to hear it at all. I mean, I’m guessing that breaking up sucks, but you being single works for me.”
She smiled and shook her head. Ignoring that last statement, she said, “You’re ‘guessing’ that breaking up sucks? You’ve never been through a break-up?”
He shrugged. “Not really. I mean, there have been women that have gotten too attached and…”
She laughed. “They’ve gotten too attached and you had to let them down gently?”
Grinning, he said, “I do my best not to leave a string of broken hearts across the East Coast.”
“You’re a prince.”
“I like to think so,” he said, taking a sip of his beer. “I am royalty, after all—MC royalty.”
“Does that mean you were born into it?”
“Yep. My old man was the president for over twenty years.”
“Wow. So did you live on the farm when you were growing up?”
“For the most part. My mother moved to Jersey and for a while I went back and forth…but that got old. She was more interested in her new husband than she was me and I was a defiant pre-teen who was determined to get as much of her negative attention as possible. The last time I went out there I was fourteen and I got arrested for shoplifting. My dad came out and bailed me out of jail and after two trips back for court and sentencing I never went back again.”
“So does that mean you haven’t seen your mother since you were fourteen?”
“No…I saw her once more, at her funeral.”
“Oh shit. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. It’s okay now, though. At the time the guilt just about ate me up. I told myself for a long time that I should have made more of an effort to know her. But then I get pissed and remind myself that she was the adult.” The waiter interrupted as he brought out their lunches. Dax had ordered the Angus beef burger and Angel got the pulled pork. As they began to eat she asked him:
“So no brothers or sisters?”
“I have a stepbrother that I only met once, and that was at my mom’s funeral. He’s nine years younger than me and we couldn’t be more different. That whole side of the family acted like they were afraid I was there to steal the good silver. I paid my respects and got the hell out of there as quickly as I could. What about you? Any annoying siblings?”
“Nope. I’m an only child. Or, I guess now I’m an orphan. My mother died when I was six years old of breast cancer and my father died about six months ago.”
“Shit. That sucks.”
She nodded and took a bite of her sandwich. After she swallowed she said, “It was hard losing my dad. But that was the point when I realized that he was really the only thing tying me to Boston, and I was free at that point to get up and change my life. I’d already broken up with my fiancé and I’ve just really been itching for a change.”
Dax was just about to ask her if she planned on staying in Boston if she didn’t get the job in Hartford when his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the screen. He cringed slightly when he saw that it was Scar calling and it was about twenty minutes after twelve. Something had undoubtedly gone wrong with the truck.
8
Angel had her arms circled around Dax’s waist and she clutched onto the sides of his kutte, white-knuckling it like her life depended on it, which it might. He had the throttle of the Harley wide open and was dropping the bike so low to the ground as they took the curves that she could kiss the pavement if she were so inclined. That phone call had caused first a look of panic on his face, and then rage. He hadn’t told her much other than that they had to go. She’d been excited at first; this might be a big break for her…but as they flew down the highway at a hundred miles per hour, she wasn’t sure that she’d live to reap the rewards.
They had been on the road for about an hour when she heard the rumble of a pack of motorcycles approaching behind them. They were on a rural road and had just crossed back over into Massachusetts. Dax had been too busy riding to text or call anyone so she wondered how the bikers had found them. She expected Dax to slow down when he looked into the rearview mirror and saw them, but instead, even though she didn’t think it was possible, he opened up the throttle wider and the bike felt like it had grown wings. That was bad enough, on the country road, but when he made a sudden turn onto the old rural highway and she saw that there was actual traffic, she thought she just might have a heart attack.
She clutched on tighter as he maneuvered the bike in between the lanes of cars and semi-trucks and trailers, weaving in and out between them with a skill that might have been impressive if she’d not been trapped on the back of the bike. His tires were smoking and the fumes from the burning rubber and the diesel exhaust threatened to choke her. She tried not to breathe it in for fear of asphyxiating and falling off the bike. The sounds of the Harleys behind them sounded closer but at that point she was too afraid to turn around and look. She wished once again that she had her gun. She could at least take out a few of their tires and slow them down.
She pulled her body up as tall as she could and put her mouth as close to Dax’s ear as it would go. “Gun?”
“What?” he yelled.
“Do you have a gun?” He hesitated and she thought he didn’t hear her again. She took in a breath that was probably filled with dead bugs and started to ask him again when he yelled:
“Right saddlebag!”
She said a silent prayer before letting go of him with her right hand. She reached down under her right thigh and began unzipping the saddle bag, stopping to grab him and hold on with two hands again a few times and then going back to it. When it was finally all the way open, she slid her hand around inside until she felt the cool steel barrel of a handgun. She held it tightly against her thigh as she slid it up. Using her thumb to slide off the safety catch she yelled, “Loaded?”
“Yes.”
Another prayer that her left hand wouldn’t give out and let her go flying off the bike, and she turned and aimed the gun at the closest bike to them. It was about three feet behind and to the right of them. A big biker with a dirty gray beard and a large belly was driving it. He must have seen the gun, because he immediately began to slow down and try to move left. Angel pulled the trigger just as the bike started changing lanes. She hit the front tire and in an explosion of dust, tar, and rubber, it fell apart. The bike skidded sideways, taking out two more of the bikers in rapid succession and leaving one on his side on the pavement and the other two off to the side in the dirt. She could see about five more bikes coming up on them and she realized that the one in front had a gun of his own. She didn’t bother trying to aim for his tires. She aimed for the arm holding the gun. She pulled the trigger and hit something just as the bullet he fired bounced off the semi-truck in the lane next to them. The biker lost control and the bike went down on top of him as they both skidded across the hot pavement. The other four bikers were slowly dropping back, and by the time Dax took the next exit off the highway, they were no longer on their tail.
Angel tucked the gun into the pocket of her jacket and resumed her two-handed hold until Dax finally pulled the bike off the road and into a parking lot. The lot faced a big, old, rusty steel warehouse and there were police and sheriff’s cars surrounding it. He turned off the bike and Angel got off. She had to clutch onto his shoulder to keep from falling as she pulled off the helmet. The sight of the police made her stomach flutter more than it already was. What if someone that doesn’t know I’m undercover recognizes me? Her attention was temporarily diverted when she realized that Dax was grinning at her.
“You’re smiling?”
“You’re fucking amazing.”
“Who was I shooting at?”
&nb
sp; Dax glanced up toward the warehouse. “Can we talk about it later?”
She sighed. “Okay.” Dax startled her then by grabbing her around the waist and pulling her up tightly against him. His mouth was covering hers so quickly that had she wanted to protest, she wouldn’t have had time. Once his tongue pressed against her lips, all hope was lost. She let them fall open and for the next several seconds she forgot what was and had been going on around them. That was until she heard a vehicle driving up and opened her eyes in time to see her brother’s face in the window of a white van rolling slowly by. Fuck. She pushed back, and she and Dax looked into each other’s eyes while they panted to catch their breath. When she could speak, she said in a shaky voice:
“Do you know what’s going on over there?”
He glanced at the warehouse again then and with a grim expression he said, “We were robbed…and they shot Beezy.”
“Oh no! Is he okay?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I guess we better go find out.” He put his hand out to her. She almost didn’t take it. If Kyle was here, Micah probably was too. She’d have to explain…but something about his outstretched hand was irresistible to her, so she took it. Holding onto him seemed to quell the anxiety inside of her and calm down her quivering muscles. She concentrated on slowing down her breathing as they approached the warehouse. The white van was parked in front of it now, alongside the sheriff’s car. There were two sheriffs posted outside the door, which was roped off with crime scene tape. One of them looked at her strangely. He looked vaguely familiar and it dawned on her that she’d attended the police academy with him. When that realization dawned, she did her best to convey to him with her eyes that her life was at that moment in his hands.
