by Tia Lewis
I wanted to laugh, but when I saw the pain on her face, I stopped. “I could take you home,” I offered.
She shook her head, eyes wide. “No, thank you. If Mom sees you, she’ll lose her mind.”
“Oh? Why?”
Bree shrugged. “It’s a long story. Suffice it to say, it’s okay for her to run around like a whore, but God forbid she sees me come home with somebody on a motorcycle. No offense.”
“None was taken,” I said. “I get it. A hypocrite. Typical parent.”
“Yeah, typical. So I’ll be back in like an hour or so. No big deal. I’m gonna shower there, get some more clothes together and grab a bite to eat.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“I mean … if you want me to stay, that is.”
Did I want her to stay? My cock grew just from me thinking about it. I wasn’t sure I could do without her anymore. Her body, her scent, the sultry sound of her voice. She had me under a spell, plain and simple. I didn’t know who I was anymore. Me, the guy who fucked ‘em and left ‘em.
“Of course, I want you to stay,” I admitted. “I want you to come back and stay with me.”
“I can do that.” She smiled, and my heart stopped beating like a speeding train. She didn’t think I was a pussy for asking her to stay. “As long as you don’t think I’m a spy for another club or anything.”
“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”
“Probably not.” She grabbed her cell phone from her back pocket to call a cab, and I waited with her until it got there.
“I’ll be right back, Drake,” she promised as she climbed in. I waved as she pulled away.
Then I hurried to my motorcycle. “Yo, man. Where are you going?” Ace asked as he watched me climb on. I didn’t answer him. I didn’t have the time, and I wasn’t in the mood to hear him make fun of me for following her like I’m some weak pussy-whipped loser. I needed to keep an eye on her. I didn’t know why—maybe because of the war with the Cobras, perhaps because she was still kind of skittish when I asked her anything about herself. I wanted to see what she was holding back.
I followed at a decent distance, keeping the bright yellow cab in my view at all times. We went further and further until we were out of Jamaica, Queens and into a nicer part of the borough. Didn’t she say she was from the neighborhood? Where the hell was she going?
I waited at the end of the block when she climbed out of the cab, then pulled up to the house she ran into. A pretty nice looking rowhome with a small lawn and a fence in front. Not anything like the way I grew up, the way a lot of people grew up where I came from. It wasn’t the Ritz, but when I was a kid her street would be thought of as a wealthy neighborhood. She was practically a rich kid if she grew up there.
I didn’t know what to think. Bree told me she came from the neighborhood, but we were out in Murray Hill. What was her story? I didn’t like thinking that I had slept with a deceptive woman who couldn’t be honest with me. I had been honest with her—more honest than I’d been with a woman, ever. She owed me that much.
I waited, watching her neighbors as they went about their day. There weren’t many of them out there—it was Wednesday afternoon, so most of them were probably at work. It was an upper-class neighborhood, nicer than Jamaica, Queens, for sure, and the houses were all taken care of. Including hers.
Who was she?
I waited almost an hour, hoping none of the neighbors would call the cops. I knew I stuck out like a sore thumb. Big Harley-Davidson motorcycle, black leather vest, tatted body. Then, a cab pulled up in front. She was ready to leave. I waited for her to come out, deciding to let her know I was onto her. I would be able to tell by her reaction if she was scared that I knew the truth.
The door opened, and out she came. First, she saw the cab and went to it after locking the door behind her. Then, I cleared my throat.
“Hey. What are you doing here?” I asked. Her eyes almost bulged out of her head when she saw me sitting there on my bike.
13
Nicole
I thought I might die of surprise. It was so nice to be home, where I could relax and be myself without having to be “Bree” all the time. It had taken a little time to get back into the mindset to return to the clubhouse.
And there was Drake.
“Hey.” Be Bree. Be Bree. I walked down the stairs, wearing black flats instead of boots because my feet genuinely couldn’t handle the heels after being in them all day. I had blisters on my blisters. But my outfit still screamed “biker trash”—something I’d pulled together after seeing all the women at the party. A short black skirt, pink tank top, white bra straps sticking out. I always hated that look, but they seemed to like it, and I wanted to be like them.
“What are you doing here?” he asked again.
“I should be the one asking you that question,” I countered, leaning against my front gate. I wanted to die.
“No, you shouldn’t. I only followed you here to make sure you were safe. You made it sound like you live in Hell. Then I come here, and you live in this quiet affluent neighborhood on a nice street, in a nice house. What’s really happening here?” He looked confused, angry, his eyes flashing. I saw the muscles jumping in his cheek as he tried to control himself.
I thought fast. “This is my aunt’s house. Remember, I told you I lived with her for a while? I forgot I left my backpack here, and some of my clothes. I sort of left in a hurry.”
“Why the hurry?”
I sighed, thinking again. “My cousin is bad news and not someone I want to be around with. I told you he just got out, right? Well, he was in prison for—rape.”
“Rape? Wow.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. He’s not the kind of guy I wanna be around, you know? The minute he got home, I left. So I came back to get my stuff since I know he works at some place the halfway house hooked him up with during the day.”
“Oh, I see.” Did I convince him? I wasn’t sure. “So, is your aunt at home?”
“No, she works, too. Everybody works around here, you know?” I shrugged. “Besides, if she knew I was with you, she would call my mom and all hell would break loose.” I looked around like I was scared—honestly, I was afraid. I didn’t want the neighbors seeing me dressed like a skank, much less talking with a biker in front of my house. I waved the cab on, making an executive decision in a hurry. “Can I get a ride back with you?”
“Really?” He cocked one eyebrow, making my panties melt a little.
“Yeah, I told you, I always thought you guys were sexy on your bikes. Why wouldn’t I want to ride on one myself?”
He grinned. “Okay. You sure you wanna try it in that skirt, though? Your skirt is super short.”
“Oh, right.” I laughed. He had a point. “Wait here for a sec?”
“Sure.”
I ran back into the house and came out with my dad’s old denim jacket, which I tied around my waist. Gosh, it still smelled like him—and it reminded me why I did what I did. Get it together.
“Is this better?” I asked, twirling. It was practically a skirt. I tucked it around my butt as I climbed onto the bike. It concealed me pretty well. Once the backpack was snugly on my back, I slid my hands around Drake’s waist. Even over my relief at getting away with lying, I felt a little thrill at the thought of riding behind him.
“Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” I said, laughing a little shakily.
“You’ll be just fine. Just hold on tight and don’t screw around with my arms.” He turned over the roaring engine that echoed throughout the quiet neighborhood. The vibration between my legs was enough to make me squeal and laugh. I hadn’t expected it to be that intense of a sensation. He laughed, too, knowing exactly why I reacted the way I did.
“Enjoy it,” he said, turning his head so I could see him grinning. Then we pulled away, and I squealed again out of surprise and a little fear. My arms tightened around his waist on their own. “You’re crushing me,” he called ou
t.
“Sorry!” I shouted over the engine and loosened my grip a little. He nodded. What a relief, putting distance between us and my house. I was glad I’d come up with the story about an aunt. It made more sense the more times I told it.
As we rode, we drew a few stares. Drake was gorgeous, of course, and he rode a beautiful bike. I’ve always thought Harleys were kind of cool. I wondered why they were looking, though, since there wasn’t any admiration in the looks we got. They looked down on us both. Him for riding, me for being with him. They didn’t even know him—or me. Then again, I’d looked down on him and his type for most of my life. Even knowing him a little didn’t help me feel much better about him. I only wished he wasn’t so fucking sexy. It would be easier to imagine him or one of his friends killing my father if he wasn’t good in bed.
You wouldn’t know he was good in bed if you didn’t sleep with him, the voice in my head reminded me in a jeering tone. You’re only making this harder for yourself. I knew I was, but just because we’d slept together didn’t mean it needed to be any harder. I knew what I was doing. I was getting justice for my father. How? I wasn’t sure of that yet. I would figure that out when the time came when I got one of them to admit that they’d done it. Until then, I would need to keep getting closer to the various members of the Club.
I pushed all thoughts of justice from my brain as we rode, letting myself enjoy the ride. I could see why he loved it the way he did. There was a sense of freedom a person couldn’t feel while sitting behind the wheel of an automobile. Refreshing and exhilarating are the words that come to mind. I felt the cool wind in my hair, on my skin. The sunshine. A connection to the road. And to the man in front of me. I wouldn’t feel the same if we were sitting side-by-side. I felt like his woman.
His woman. I wasn’t his woman. I was my own woman. And the minute I knew what happened to my father, I’d be gone without a second glance. Adios.
We stopped at a red light. “How do you like it so far?” Drake asked over the rumble of the engine.
“I love it!” I laughed.
“I’ll have to teach you how to ride.” My arms tightened reflexively, and he laughed. “Okay, maybe not yet.”
“Maybe not ever.” I wasn’t sure I could control all that metal at once. I much preferred riding with him to the idea of controlling the bike myself.
We were both laughing when the light turned green, and we pulled ahead. Then, just as we got through the intersection, the blare of a police siren.
“Oh, fuck.” I heard him say it over the engine. “Don’t let that be for us.”
Don’t be for us. Don’t be for us. What could the police want with us? He wasn’t speeding. We’d gone through a green light. Still, I glanced over my shoulder to find a flashing light just behind us. Drake muttered a handful of creative curses before pulling off to the side of the road.
“Man, what the hell do they want?” he asked, glancing in the mirror as he turned off the engine. “I wasn’t doing anything. It’s not even a real cop car.”
I looked behind us again. “No, it’s a detective,” I said absentmindedly. “They drive the regular cars with the dome lights.”
“How do you know that?”
“Doesn’t everybody?” I left it there. I had to stop giving myself away like that. Wait. A detective? Oh, shit. Please, don’t let them know my father. Please, please. Oh, hell, what am I doing? I didn’t have much time to figure out the answer to my question before I saw a familiar figure in front of me. Oh, God. Why?
The detective looked at Drake, not noticing me at first. “Hey, Drake. It’s a beautiful day, huh?”
“Yeah, not as hot as yesterday. What’d I do this time?” He sounded defeated, exhausted. I wondered if he got pulled over a lot. I wondered if I would be able to control my bladder.
“Nothing,” the detective admitted. “I just wanted to talk to you, and I don’t usually see you in this neighborhood so I thought I’d ask you to pull over.”
“What? Am I not allowed to ride around here?”
“No, I didn’t say that.”
“Then what’s going on? You could just call me, you know?”
The detective snickered then turned to me. My eyes were wide, begging, pleading. Please don’t give me away! I shook my head ever so slightly. Don’t act like you know me, my eyes pleaded. Please, please.
“New girlfriend?” he asked, grinning at me. Oh, thank you, sweet baby, Jesus. I relaxed my shoulders.
“She’s just a girl. One of my new friends.” The detective laughed at Drake’s blithe response.
“I see.”
“Yep. So—Is that it?” Drake asked.
“Tell me. She wouldn’t happen to know anything about how my friend got killed a while back, would she?”
“Man, is that what this is about?” Drake asked, his shoulders slumping. “Look, I already told you I don’t know what happened to him. He was a pain in the ass, but none of us had any reason to kill him. Okay? That’s all I can tell you, and that’s all I know.”
I was close to tears, and the detective noticed. “Miss, why don’t you come over here with me for a minute?”
“Why do you want her?” Drake questioned with a snarl in his voice. I put a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s okay, Drake. I’m fine. Don’t start any trouble, all right?” I swung one leg over the end of the bike, walking away with Tommy. He waited until we got to his car to turn on me.
“What the fuck, Nicole! What the hell are you doing?” He managed to keep his voice to a whisper and stay very still as he berated me. Good thing. Drake would have noticed if he flipped out.
“Tommy—let me explain.”
“Look at you.” He looked me up and down. “You don’t dress like this. What’s really going on?”
“Lower your voice. I know exactly what I’m doing, okay?”
“And what the hell would that be?”
“Come on, Tommy. You know what, or you wouldn’t have mentioned my father.” We both went silent, staring at each other.
“Nicole.” He shook his head, pacing back and forth.
“What?”
“Do you realize you could get yourself killed? This is not a game.” I saw a lot of worry in his eyes, in the lines on his forehead as he frowned. “I promised your father I would take care of you, and what do I find? You on the back of Drake Collins’s bike. I almost got sideswiped when I made the turn to follow you. I couldn’t believe what was I seeing.”
“That’s why you stopped him?”
“Of course, it is. He wasn’t doing anything wrong, except riding around with my friend’s daughter. Jesus Christ, kid. I can’t believe this.” He ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, letting out a big gust of air.
“I’m going to find out what happened, okay? And I’ll be safe. I know what I’m doing.”
“Nicole, you don’t understand. You’re getting yourself into some deep shit.”
“Just hear me out, okay? Drake likes me. I’m getting closer to him, so he’ll tell me what he knows. He would never tell you, Tommy. I’m the only one who can find out the truth.”
“I know that,” he said. “But you have to be careful with this one. You think you’re getting closer to Drake, and he cares about you? He’ll stab you in the back so fast, you won’t know what to think. He’ll do anything to protect himself and his Blood Riders. He doesn’t care about you.”
“Tommy—”
“Please, Nicole. Trust me on this one. The Blood Riders have no heart, and there’s no ‘befriending’ them in hopes of getting information. They’ll sniff you out so fast, and once they find out you’re a spy, then what?”
“Tommy!” I repeated.
“Then what, Nicole? You can’t call me because it’ll be too late. Who knows what they’ll do to you once they see you’re a rat.”
I nodded. “I got it. I understand. I’ll be careful and do everything I can, okay? I have to do this for me and my sanity. That was my father who got
fucking killed—”
“Nicole.”
“I have to do this, and that’s the end of it. So, in the meantime, I think I should get back to him before he gets suspicious.”
Tommy took a minute to think it over, he nodded. I looked at him once more, trying to tell him how much his concern meant to me but failing. All I could do was turn around and return to Drake.
“Hey, what happened back there? What did that pig want?” I cringed a little at Drake’s choice of words but tried not to let it show.
“Nothing. He wanted to know if I knew anything about that cop. Whatever. Like I would know anything. He didn’t think you were telling the truth.”
“So he tried to get it outta you. That piece of shit. I liked the other cop a lot more than I like him. At least the other one was a decent guy.” Was he talking about my father? I clasped my hands around his waist and leaned my cheek against his back, struggling to hold back the tears. He knew my father. And he liked him. Oh, Dad. What happened?
I didn’t say another word until we got back to the Clubhouse, my head in a haze. I couldn’t help but wonder if Drake was telling the truth, and he didn’t know what happened to my father. I needed to ask him somehow, but I didn’t know what to say. How could I approach the topic without making it sound like I was fishing for information and blow my cover?
I waited until I dropped my backpack off in his room. He followed me there and closed the door. He must have thought we were going to go for round…three? Four? I’d already lost count. I was hardly in the mood, however, and I let him know through the look in my eyes. I didn’t try to hide my concern.
“What is it? What’s going on?” He asked. “Are you still all shook up because that pig stopped us?” Again with the word ‘pig.’ I did what I could to hide my gut reaction. I wanted to claw his fucking eyes out.
“A little. He said something about his friend getting murdered, like, a couple of weeks ago. He said he thought you guys had something to do with it because the cop was on your case. He asked me if I knew about it.”
