Luring the Biker (The Biker) Book 7

by Cassie Alexandra

  “Who’s out there!” hollered an old woman’s voice through an upstairs window.

  I was about to answer when Jayce told me not to.

  “Don’t involve her,” he whispered, weaving back and forth. “It’s… too… dangerous…” Unable to finish, Jayce’s eyes rolled back into his head.

  “Jayce!” I cried, as he collapsed into the grass. I got down on my knees. “Hey.” I tried shaking him. “Wake up. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “I hear you! I’ve called the police!” shouted the woman. “You’d better get off of my property!”

  “Please help us!” I cried. I’d had enough. Jayce was injured and Blade’s van was now idling in front of the woman’s house. I had nowhere else to go. “There’s a man trying to shoot us!”

  “The police are on the way! I don’t want any trouble!” she answered.

  I stood up and stepped into the light so she could see me. “I’m one of your neighbors. Please, let us inside!” I hollered, raising my hands in the air to show that I was unarmed.

  Suddenly, I heard the squeal of Blade’s tires as it barreled down the woman’s driveway toward us. Frightened, I was torn between staying with Jayce and running. Then I reminded myself that if he caught me, I was a dead woman. We were both well past… playing nice.

  Chapter 40

  Blade

  Blade was furious. His left hand and right shoulder were bloody and throbbing. He knew he needed medical attention, but, rage and adrenaline drove him to find Peyton. She needed to pay for stabbing him, and not even his own pain would get in the way of revenge.

  “The police are on the way!” hollered an old woman in a nearby house. “I don’t want any trouble!”

  Blade stopped the vehicle just as Peyton stepped out of the shadows by the old broad’s place.

  “I’m one of your neighbors. Please, let us inside!” she cried, waving at the woman.

  Blade turned the van into the driveway and headed toward the bitch, wanting her to suffer in ways that would make the devil flinch.

  Seeing him approach, Peyton hesitated and then took off running again.

  “Cat and mouse again, huh? Well, I’m going to turn you into cheese,” he mumbled.

  Blade turned the wheel and followed her across the lawn. Thoughts of running Peyton over almost seemed adequate enough as punishment, but he wanted so much more.

  Blade wanted blood, drawn by his own hands. He wanted her death to be slow and agonizing. And he’d definitely show her how to use a knife properly.

  Looking back at him, Peyton raced between two large pine trees toward the next house over. The lights were on and she was obviously going for help. But not before he got to her first. He was about to stomp his foot on the gas when he heard the sirens.

  “Fuck,” he growled, pounding his good fist against the steering wheel angrily. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

  Chapter 41

  Peyton

  As soon as the sirens sounded in the distance, Blade took off. I cried out in relief.

  The front door opened at the house I was standing next to; a man stepped outside and he was holding a shotgun.

  “You okay?” he asked, looking past me toward the retreating van. “Was that guy chasing after you?”

  “Yes,” I said, wiping the tears from my eyes.

  “Good thing I grabbed my gun. Crazy lunatic,” he replied, shaking his head. “Driving after you on the grass like he was going to run you down.” He frowned. “Don’t tell me he’s your ex?”

  “Hell, no. I’ve never met the guy before tonight,” I said, shaking from the flurry of emotions coursing through me.

  “Well, hope you got a good look at his license plate, ‘cause the cops are definitely on the way,” said the man, waving toward the bright cherries approaching us.

  “Yes, thank goodness.”

  Sighing, he ran a hand over his forehead. “By the way, my name is Rick.”

  “I’m Peyton,” I replied, never actually having met him. He was an older man in his fifties, and had a wife who used a wheelchair. They normally kept to themselves, so I didn’t know much about them. I decided that would soon change, especially since he’d come to my rescue. I’d buy them a gift card to Olive Garden, at the very least.

  Remembering Jayce, I ran back to the old woman’s house and found him regaining consciousness.

  I knelt down next to him. “Are you okay?”

  “Peachy,” he repeated again, as the cops pulled up the driveway. “Never thought I’d be happy to see those guys.” He looked back at me. “Just… don’t give the police any information.”

  My eyes widened. “What do you mean? They’re going to ask us questions. Lots of them. What am I supposed to say?”

  “Tell them you don’t know shit. The club will handle this.” His eyes hardened. “Prison is too good for him.”

  I frowned. “I don’t know…”

  He touched my arm. “It’s what Tarot would want.”

  I knew Jayce was right, but lying to the police? I didn’t know if I could pull it off.

  The two cops got out of their vehicles and approached us, one man and a woman. They started asking us questions, and I gave them vague answers, just like Jayce wanted.

  “So, let me get this straight—this guy snuck into your house and didn’t take anything,” said the male, a guy named Brenner. “And didn’t try assaulting you?”

  “No,” I replied. “I mean, I didn’t give him a chance. I saw him in my home and ran like hell. He chased me outside and jumped into his van.”

  “You get a license plate number?” asked the female cop, Smith.

  I shook my head. “I think it might have been covered up, actually.”

  “It might have been? You’re not sure?” asked Officer Smith, frowning.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just so shaken up by everything that I can’t remember,” I said, which was the truth.

  “And who are you?” Brenner asked, looking at Jayce.

  “A friend,” he replied.

  The two cops looked at each other and then back at Jayce.

  “You’re a member of the Gold Vipers,” stated Brenner.

  “I’m a prospect,” he replied.

  “Just a friend, huh? What were you doing here so late?” asked Smith with a smirk.

  “We’re friends with… benefits,” he replied, glaring at them.

  They continued asking us questions until an ambulance and an unmarked police car, pulled up. As Jayce was being led to the vehicle, he gave me one last look, reminding me to be careful with the cops.

  “Ms. Francis,” said one of the men from the unmarked vehicle. “My name is Detective Olson and that’s Detective Bradley. We have some questions we’d like to ask you about tonight.”

  “I just told them everything,” I replied, waving my thumb toward the other two cops who were now interviewing the old lady and the other neighbor, Rick.

  “I know and I apologize. But, we need you to answer our questions now, I’m afraid,” said Olson, a tall, dark-haired fellow who reminded me of the actor Danny Trejo.

  I suddenly felt like I was the criminal from the way the two men were looking at me. “Sure.”

  They began asking me about Jayce and the Gold Vipers.

  “I don’t know much about them,” I replied. “Jayce and I haven’t known each other very long.”

  “How did you meet?” asked Detective Bradley, who had red hair and penetrating blue eyes.

  “At a barbecue,” I said, which was the truth.

  They asked more questions about the Gold Vipers and it was obvious they cared more about them than anything.

  “Look, I don’t know much about their club and I don’t understand why you’re asking me questions about the Gold Vipers when I was almost assaulted tonight by someone else. As far as I know, there is no correlation between them and the guy who went after me,” I said angrily.

  “You’re mixing with bad company,” said Olson. “Just associating with a member of
the club is asking for trouble.”

  “I don’t know anything about that,” I replied, not knowing how to respond.

  “Are you sure that you never met or saw the man who broke into your home tonight?” asked Olson.

  “I’ve never seen him before in my life,” I replied.

  “Fair enough,” said Olson, looking at the other detective. “Let’s go back to her place and see if we can lift some fingerprints.”

  I’d forgotten all about fingerprints. There’d be blood, too.

  “Which one is your place?” asked Bradley.

  I showed them. They grabbed some kind of evidence kit from their trunk and we walked over.

  “What time did you get home tonight?” asked Olson.

  “About twelve-thirty. I worked and then did some shopping. Before Jayce came over,” I added.

  They began searching the house and in no time, found what they’d been looking for. Including my kitchen knife, which still had blood on it.

  “I take it that this is the perp’s blood?” Bradley said, putting on a plastic glove.

  I nodded.

  He picked up the butcher knife and placed it inside of an evidence bag. “Ms. Francis, you failed to mention that you’d stabbed the guy.”

  “I guess it just slipped my mind,” I replied as my cell phone began to ring, somewhere in the house.

  “Is there anything else you’re forgetting?” asked Olson dryly, obviously not pleased with my answer.

  “Uh, I may have stabbed him in the living room, too,” I replied, thinking back to the switchblade.

  The two detectives looked at each other and I knew they were thinking the same thing; she’s hiding something. At least that’s what I thought.

  When they checked the living room, there was no sign of a knife, but there was splattered blood on the couch and carpeting.

  “We should call forensics,” said Olson.

  “On it,” replied Bradley, pulling out his phone.

  “Nobody died,” I replied quickly.

  “No, but this is a crime scene, no matter what, and we have to identify whose blood this is,” said Olson.

  “It’s his,” I said.

  “Well, we don’t know who ‘he’ is, do we?” asked Olson.

  “Where was your friend, Jayce, when all of this was happening?”

  “He hadn’t yet arrived,” I replied. “Or, so I thought.”

  “So, you were the only one in the home when the man broke into your place and attacked you,” said Olson.

  I nodded. “Yes, although Jayce saw him trying to break into my basement. He confronted him and that’s when he was knocked out.”

  He asked me a few more questions and then Bradley rejoined us.

  “Forensics is on the way,” he said.

  I sighed.

  “You don’t seem too interested in finding out who this guy is. Don’t you want him arrested?” Olson asked, searching my face.

  “Yes. I’m just exhausted and want this to be over,” I answered truthfully. I also wanted Blade taken care of and didn’t care anymore whether it was the police, or the club.

  “I imagine you do,” replied Olson.

  I heard my phone ringing again and asked if I could answer it.

  “Of course,” replied Olson.

  “Thank you.”

  I walked out of the living room and grabbed my phone, which was in the bedroom.

  It was Dom.

  “Thank God,” he said. “I’ve been worried sick about you. What’s going on?”

  “I have to call you back,” I said in a low voice. “I’ll explain everything.”

  “Why can’t you now?”

  “The police are here,” I whispered.

  He swore. “Is Hollywood there?”

  “Who?”

  “The prospect.”

  “Oh, yeah. Jayce. He’s here.”

  “He sent a message and said that everything was cool. But, then you didn’t call me back and I had a bad feeling....”

  “Everything is okay, now. Look, I gotta go,” I said, hearing the detectives outside my bedroom door, talking.

  “Okay. Call me back the moment you can.”

  “I will.”

  Chapter 42

  Tarot

  It was two more hours before Peyton called me back. When she did, she explained what had happened. I was livid.

  “He calls himself Blade, huh?” I said, clenching and unclenching my fist.

  I was so pissed.

  All I kept thinking about was the animal trying to rape my woman. I’d never killed anyone with my bare hands, but I wanted to choke the bastard out myself.

  “Yeah.”

  I stood up and walked into the bathroom, not wanting to wake up Ruby. I shut the door. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, babe. That guy is fucking dead.”

  She sighed. “Look, I’m on my way over to my friend Stephanie’s house. Can I call you later in the day? I just don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

  I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was completely shaken by everything. “Of course. I’m just glad you’re not staying at your place.”

  “The police don’t think he’ll show back up, but you never know. That guy was a freak.”

  “Sounds like it. Do you know where Hollywood is?” He still hadn’t called me back.

  “The ambulance took him away. I think he might have suffered a concussion. By the way, he mentioned that his cell phone was missing. We think Blade has it.”

  A smile spread across my face. “Is that right?”

  ***

  A few seconds later, we hung up, and I called Phoenix to update him on the events.

  He groaned. “Fuck. I’m sorry, man. I’m just glad she wasn’t injured. By the way, I just heard from Brass. Hollywood called him from the hospital. They’re keeping him overnight for observation. He was hit in the noggin pretty hard,” replied Phoenix.

  “He’s got a hard head. He’ll be fine.”

  “Let’s hope so.”

  “Guess what?” I said, smirking. “The douchebag took his cell phone. We can find the fucker.”

  All of the prospects were issued cell phones by us and we had hidden GPS trackers on each of them. Just in case we had doubts about who we were letting into our club.

  “No shit?” he replied, a smile in his voice. “Finally, something going our way. Don’t worry, Dom. We’ll crush this guy.”

  “Hold up, now. I want to do it myself. You can catch him, but wait for me to get back into town before you hurt him.”

  “Okay. Hopefully he didn’t toss the cell phone.”

  “Hopefully. By the way, did you take the safe out of my place?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, they probably still think I’m in deep shit with the rest of the club.”

  “I imagine. Now that they have Hollywood’s cell phone, this Blade asshole might lead us directly to the Blood Angels. I spoke to Tank earlier and he believes they’re holding up somewhere in Hastings or Cottage Grove.”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it.”

  “Not to change the subject, but how’s Ruby doing?”

  “Good. I got her a puppy.”

  “Cool. What kind.”

  I told him.

  “Looks like things are shaping up for you. You got yourself a new house. An Old Lady. A kid. And now a pet. You’d better buy yourself one of those soccer-mom vans, family man.”

  “Funny,” I said dryly.

  He chuckled. “I’m just giving you shit. By the way, how is Peyton holding up?”

  I sighed. “She’s pretty shaken.”

  “I can only imagine. I should have sent two prospects,” he replied. “Sorry, brother.”

  “Not your fault. Besides, aren’t the prospects shadowing the Old Ladies anyway?”

  “Not at night. Just during the day when the guys are at work or busy.”

  “Well, don’t blame yourself. None of us saw this coming.”

  “Let’s not
make that mistake again.”

  “No shit.”

  Chapter 43

  Peyton

  The Forensics van was just leaving when Stephanie picked me up. I knew that she would have a lot of questions, and I was torn between telling her the truth and sticking with my story. I knew if I lied, she’d see right through me. On the other hand, I knew that if Blade turned up dead later, technically I would be an accessory to murder. If there was one thing about Stephanie, it was that she believed in the justice system and not bull-headed club vengeance. She’d never look at me the same way again. Not after finding out that I’d lied to the police. My feelings for Tarot had grown quickly, however, and I trusted him. At least, I needed to.

  “What in the hell happened?” she asked when I got into the car.

  I hadn’t explained much when I’d called her, and she’d had the night off from work. I told her a man had tried breaking into my house and I was too frightened to stay there.

  I pushed my hair behind my ears. “Like I said on the phone, a man tried breaking in.”

  “Did you get a good look at him?”

  Much more than I wanted.

  “A little.”

  She stared at me for a few seconds, and then we pulled out of my driveway.

  “You’re holding back. I can tell that there’s so much more to this story.”

  “You’re right, but… I’m just too tired to talk about it,” I replied, yawning. It was almost six a.m. and the sun was already out. I was supposed to be at work in two hours, but had already called in sick. “Can we talk about it later? After I get some rest?”

  “Of course,” she said, patting my hand. Her eyes softened. “I’m sorry this happened to you, hon. I hope they catch this asshole.”

  “Yeah, me, too.”

  We drove in silence to her condo and she showed me to her guestroom.

  “Let me know if you need anything,” she said, grabbing me an extra blanket.