by Siobhan Muir
“Everything okay in there, Melrose?”
Melrose? What kind of a name is that?
The man on the other side of the door was tall, dark blond, and had the biggest nose I’d seen in a long time. He also had piercing blue eyes that seemed to see into my soul when he switched his gaze to me.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s all good, Michael. We’re just getting out.” She shot me a meaningful look and opened her door.
“Melinda, no.” I reached for her, but she slipped out of the car and I was stuck.
Aw hell, now what do I do? I couldn’t stay in the car, but I didn’t have the keys to make a run for it. Sure, I could hot-wire it. I’d learned that long before I joined the FBI. But I didn’t want anything to happen to Melinda if I rabbited.
Before I could make a decision, my door opened and I looked up into Michael’s earnest eyes. “You coming?”
“I—Yeah, coming.”
Arguing wouldn’t do any good and sitting in the car wouldn’t give me a chance to assess my escape routes. Right now, I was stuck here until I figured out the lay of the land, and just what kind of mess Melinda had gotten me into.
I got out of the car, but stepped away from the man trying to take my arm. “I don’t need a physical escort. Keep your hands to yourself, big guy.”
“Michael.” He tilted his head and gave me a half-smile. “You don’t want to be here, do you?”
“What was your first clue? I don’t like liars, cheats, or scammers. So far, my ‘friend’ has been at least two of the three. So keep your hands off me. Got it?”
He held his hands up as amusement creased his lips. “Roger that, Ms…” He waited for my name.
“Hunter.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Ms. Hunter. Let me be the first to welcome you to the Concrete Angels.”
“Oh, I’m not staying.” I lifted my chin as his eyebrows went up. “I just need the keys so I can drive myself home.”
One of the other men laughed, a harsh, grating sound that sent fear skittering up my spine. “Once you drive in, there ain’t no drivin’ out.”
My gaze lasered into Melinda as she turned to look at me. “I told you this had Hotel California written all over it.”
She didn’t laugh. Her mouth tightened and her eyes rolled up in her head as she toppled backwards with a surprised sigh. My jaw dropped and I took a few steps toward her, away from the car, as she swooned like a friggin’ damsel in a dress. Exclamations erupted from the men around us and someone caught her, carrying her toward the clubhouse, and leaving me with Michael and a new man who’d approached from behind.
“Who do we have here, Schnoz?”
I spun to identify the gravelly-voiced speaker, but when my gaze landed on him, I forgot everything about trying to get away. Sweet glory, where the hell did he come from?
He had close cropped hair, a cleft chin with scruff on it, and broad shoulders encased in a faded black T-shirt. But the eyes took my breath away. A rare color of seafoam green, most often seen in cats’ eyes, stared into me from under arching brows and half-closed lids. He appeared sleepy and relaxed, but I bet those eyes missed nothing.
“Ms. Hunter, meet Scott Free.”
“Mr. Free.”
“Not mister, just Scott. As in scot-free, sweetheart.” He smirked at me and anger surged in my chest.
“Not sweetheart, Hunter. I’m not your sweetheart, doll, honey, little lady, or darling. You don’t need a pet name for me because I’m not your pet. Copy?”
If anything, his smirk grew. “Yes, ma’am. Copy that.”
Yeah, I doubted it.
I rounded the car and reached for the rear door. Michael made a sudden move, his gaze more fierce than I’d seen at first. Holy shit, he’s got the intensity of…of… My imagination failed me, but I stood my ground despite the unease prickling my arms.
“I’m getting my bag. Y’all gonna be as jumpy as cats the whole time I’m here or is that your usual?” I hoped my voice remained steady as I opened the door and pulled out the bag Mel had packed for me.
Scott grinned. “Don’t worry about Michael. He’s always kinda twitchy around new girls.”
I sighed and raised my chin before I met Scott’s amused gaze. “Not a girl. I’m probably older than you are. Could you at least try not to be sexist for my benefit?”
I didn’t bother to wait for his answer as I threw the bag over my head to hang across my body. Hey, I’m old enough to know not to carry it on one shoulder. I’d need the chiropractor the next day and from what I could tell, I wouldn’t be leaving the compound anytime soon.
At least she brought my computer. When the hell had she packed all this stuff for me? I thought I was pretty observant, but I hadn’t noticed her getting anything from my place. Which probably means she’d already packed the go-bag.
What I did notice was half the men still in the yard out in front of the clubhouse watched me with either covetous lust, or wary uncertainty. Except Michael and Scott. Michael wore a benevolent smile that didn’t match his badass appearance, and Scott watched me as if I represented a puzzle he had to solve. Good luck with that, buddy. I had no intention of getting to know any of these people better.
“So, shall we get this show on the road? I have the second season of Blindspot to watch when I get home.” I ran my gaze over Scott. “Come to think of it, you look a lot like Assistant Director Kurt Weller of the FBI. You sure you’re not undercover or something?”
Scott snorted. “No such luck, sweetheart. No one’s comin’ to save you from the authorities.”
“Oh, I know, sweetheart. I’ll be saving myself when the time comes.”
Scott threw back his head and laughed as Michael waved me toward the clubhouse. Despite his lack of faith in my as yet unknown abilities, I liked his laugh. The sensual quality to it had my body reacting in inappropriate ways. I’m not falling for a biker who has enough gravel in his voice to be used for traction on icy roads. I straightened my spine and headed through the door of the clubhouse.
Again, I was taken aback at the elegance of the space. Instead of a reception desk and sitting room, the walls had been cleared out to give space for two pool tables, one with green felt, the other with purple, a foosball table, a sixty-five inch flat screen TV, a bar, and an actual mechanical bull. A sign hanging over it read, “No Bullshit.”
A few doors ringed the room. Some I suspected were actual bedrooms, but the others must have been offices, meeting rooms, and an infirmary, judging from the scent wafting out of it. I caught sight of Melinda sitting on an exam table speaking with someone who watched her with concern.
Yeah, right. Don’t be fooled, lady. She’s a manipulative little bitch.
I turned my gaze away and focused on the man seated on a bar stool, facing me and my escorts. My world shifted sideways and I wondered if someone had cloned half the male actors of Hollywood and threw them into this biker club.
The man sitting on the bar stool wore jeans, dark green T-shirt, and a leather vest with a gargoyle emblem representing the Concrete Angels emblazoned across his back. The patch said “PREZ.” He had thick brows, shoulder length reddish-brown hair and a matching trimmed beard, and blue eyes dark enough to be navy. His lips seemed creased into a perpetual smirk that I’d seen on the actor who played the God of Thunder in movies. I half expected him to have a soft, seductive Aussie accent as I stopped in front of him with my arms loose and one hand on my bag.
“You must be Oriana Hunter, ja?” The musical voice full of amusement rolled over me with a stark Norwegian accent.
I opened my mouth to give him a snarky response, but something about this guy gave me pause. He didn’t have a heavyset body or even the height of some of the others, but the energy emanating from him made the hair on the back of my neck rise. There was a reason he led the Concrete Angels, and I didn’t want to test out why.
“Yes.” I thought it best to go simple.
He tilted his head. “Det er bra. Melrose came through after all.�
� He narrowed his eyes and a smirk curled his lips. “But you don’t wanna be here, ja?”
What was it with all the guys saying that? “No.”
“You know who we are?”
While his question seemed innocuous enough, something told me he asked more than the simple arrangement of the words. Do I know they’re known for being both saviors and perpetrators? Oh yeah. Thank you, FBI experience.
“Yes.”
He nodded as Michael hovered at his left shoulder. Scott stood to my left and his gaze burned into my side with the heat of the magnifying glass in the sun. What was his issue? Did I have paint on my face? Or was it just my boobs encased in fitted cotton?
Probably the boobs.
The leader spread his hands and gave a wide smile. “Welcome to the Concrete Angels. My name is Loki and you’re under my protection.”
Loki? He looked like the actor who played the God of Thunder in the movies, and that’s the name he picked?
“Seriously?”
He smirked and shrugged. “They say I look like a character and started calling me this. It stuck.”
“Right.”
“Do you speak more than one-word answers?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”
He threw back his head and laughed with real amusement, and despite his intense power, I relaxed. If the man could laugh at my snark, I might be able to survive this encounter. I caught Scott grinning while Michael smirked.
“Do you know why you’re here, Oriana Hunter?”
I shook my head. “No, but I overheard Mel say y’all have had money troubles and you need someone good with numbers.”
“She speaks!” Scott crowed before dissolving into a laugh.
I shot him a glare before returning my attention to Loki. “That true?”
Loki shrugged. “Not money troubles. More like money trickery. Melrose says you’re a forensic accountant and can find money in places no one wants it found.”
I looked around the room, cataloguing where everyone stood. I met Scott’s eyes briefly but I didn’t like the intensity in them. “Yeah, that’s my profession. What do you need a forensic accountant for?”
Loki spread his hands. “To find money, of course.”
I waved at the expensive toys around the room. “Looks like you’re doing fine.”
Loki’s affability disappeared as if someone had flipped a switch and I shivered.
“Someone stole money from us and it cannot stand. We need you to find it and who has chosen to endanger his life in this way.”
The energy of the room became dangerously charged. I half-expected some jackass to light a match and the whole house to go up. But I’d been in tighter and scarier situations when I worked for the FBI, so I locked my unease down and met his furious gaze.
“So, you want to hire me to scour your financial accounts and pinpoint who is stealing from you and how they did it?”
“Ja, hire you. With a contract and everything.” He crossed his arms over his chest as the others around him nodded.
“You’re offering me a contract?” It sounded like he was ordering a hitman. Not that he needs one with all these sociopaths around him.
“I’m hiring you as a freelancer to help with specific money issues. We should definitely get the terms down in writing.” Loki tilted his head. “A contract ensures everyone abides by the rules.”
“Including you?”
He smirked. “Especially me.”
I nodded slowly. “Fine. You got someone to write these down? Because I have a few terms of my own.”
His eyebrows went up. “Do you? Very well.” He turned and waved to a quiet guy I’d missed in my perusal of the room. “Neo, write down the terms of our contract with Ms. Hunter. I don’t want any details missed.”
Neo had the same quiet presence as the actor who’d starred in that time travel movie where the teenagers had to do a history project and kept snagging the real people from history. He had dark eyes, a scraggly beard, and shoulder-length hair. He didn’t look like he smiled often, but his body language conveyed thoughtful affability.
“So, what are your terms, Ms. Hunter?”
I met Loki’s gaze as Neo sat down with a tablet. “I’m here to conduct a forensic accounting analysis of your financial accounts and records to determine if and where someone is embezzling from you. Correct?”
“So far.” Loki nodded.
“I don’t belong to anyone. I’m my own person and I’ll be treated as such. I’m an equal in standing to all members of the Concrete Angels Motorcycle Club, and any actions to violate that such as unwanted molestation, sexual assault, harassment, will result in the termination of this contract. I’ll be allowed to leave the compound with all my belongings and given safe passage to a location of my choosing.”
Some of the men growled and moaned as if my requirements were unfair. Scott was the loudest. Sorry guys, you’ll have to respect me enough to keep your dicks in your pants.
Loki nodded again, something resembling approval in his gaze. “Go on.”
“I’ll be housed in my own room or cabin. I won’t stay in a dorm or barracks. I work at all hours and need privacy. I’ll use it as an office. I’ll need internet privileges and access to any paper or electronic financial records.”
Neo’s hands flew over the tablet. I’d never seen anyone hunt-and-peck as fast as he did, and I had to wonder if he had some sort of odd computer connection like the movie character. Computer connection. I narrowed my eyes.
“I also want to make sure there are no listening or viewing devices to spy on me in my office. That would be considered a breach in the contract and I’d be gone.”
Neo paused and looked up at me, surprised I’d figured out his little gadgetry secret. Oh yeah, big boy, I know you’re the resident computer nerd. Goddess knows what all you’ve seen on the security cameras. He shot a look at Loki and the other man waved acceptance.
Loki gave me a half smile. “Anything else?”
“Yeah, you’re going to pay me time-and-a-half my going rate at my job because I’m obviously going to be gone a while. I can’t live on smiles and motorcycle fumes. Hell, I might not have a job by the time I’m done with this, so I gotta know I have options.” I raised my chin. “And I want dental.”
“Dental?” Scott barked.
“You know how much root canals are these days? I’d have to take a loan out from the Russian mob, and you know how well those work out.” I returned my gaze to Loki. “And when I’ve done the job, I want to be free to leave without repercussions or reprisals.”
“I agree you’ll be free to leave if you cannot reveal the financial secrets of the Concrete Angels.” Loki looked at Neo as he typed.
I nodded. “That’s reasonable. But I want it clear that you and all the members of the Concrete Angels, both national and all local chapters, will leave me alone after this. You won’t send your trained messenger lady to reel me back in.”
Loki tilted his head again. “What if you don’t want to leave?”
I snorted. “Good luck with that.”
Chapter Two
Scott
I held back the laugh rumbling in my chest. Hold it together, jackass. Oriana Hunter was a spitfire, though she wasn’t little. She stood nearly my height, six-four, and had golden eyes that spat sparks. No bullshit, they were the same color of the best whiskey I’d ever had. She dressed casual in a denim capri pants and a tee that showed enough cleavage to make my cock swell and my balls tighten up. But she ruled that fuckin’ room with her presence. Loki was badass, no question about it, but Oriana held her own.
Damn, I need to get me some of that.
Except she’d made it clear in her contract no one could hook up with her. The one term with wiggle room was ‘unwanted.’ All I had to do was get her to want me and my affections, and we’d be home-free. Aw yeah. I just had to figure out how.
Loki glanced up at me and gave me a half-smile I’d learn to dread. Aw hell, what’s he th
inking about now? But our enigmatic leader only looked back at Oriana as she read over the terms Neo had typed up on his tablet.
“Looks good to me. Print it and we’ll both sign it.” She stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest, pushing up her boobs enough to make me drool.
Loki unfolded himself from his seat and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. He could be as slippery as an eel and as fierce as a viper. I’d seen him do shit that made me wonder who the fuck I’d taken up with, but when he defended what he considered his, he never let up.
I resisted the urge to protect Oriana as he strode up to her, producing a needle from somewhere. Again, his gaze slid to mine and his half-smile grew into a full-on smirk as he walked around her and held up the needle.
“I’m ready when you are, ja?”
Oriana frowned. “What’s that for?”
“For this.” He pricked his index finger with the needle and squeezed until blood welled up. He grinned at her gasp as he pressed his bleeding finger against the paper, writing his name with a flourish. “Now you.”
“You want me to sign the contract in blood?” Her eyes widened and she swallowed hard.
Loki nodded, his eyes sparkling with insanity. “Best way to sign a contract. That way no one’s confused and it can’t be faked. DNA tells all, ja?”
Oriana let her gaze slide around the room, meeting a few eyes until she got to mine, but she refocused on the contract. “Give me a clean needle.”
Damn, this woman is badass.
A new needle showed up and she took a deep breath before poking her finger. She grimaced as she forced the blood out of the hole then pressed her finger to the paper, signing some red squiggles. A weird ripple fluttered through the air, radiating from the paper they’d both signed. I watched it move and shot a look at Schnoz. Had he seen the freaky air movement?
Sometimes the man was a fuckin’ sphinx, but he gave me a quick nod before returning his gaze to the major players as Neo handed Oriana a bandage for her finger.
“So are we good?” Loki asked as he stopped in front of his chair again.
