by Jaime Rush
Rand held the passenger front door open and waved his hand toward it. Zoe climbed in, and he closed the door for her. So he was a gentleman.
A freaking sexy-as-hell gentleman, a naughty voice whispered, throwing that memory of him naked into her mind.
Ozzie got in, Rand got into the back, and off they went. Men’s cologne filled the car. Ozzie turned to her. “So, what do you do?”
Now she knew why Rand let her sit in front. He was tuned out in the backseat, stretched out sideways with his head resting against his crossed arms, eyes closed.
She hated small talk. “I stick people with needles.” Waiting a beat she added, “I’m a tattoo artist.”
After small talk that studiously avoided details of what he called “the conspiracy,” Rand directed Ozzie to an area of town unfamiliar to her. He’d borrowed Eric’s cell phone until they could get more untraceable ones, and he made a call. “Hey, Maggie. How are you?…Good. How’s Chloe?…Excellent…. Yeah, I know, I haven’t been around lately. Look, can you unlock the back entrance?…Thanks.”
He directed Ozzie to a four-story brick building. “While I’m in Baltimore, I want to get some of my stuff.”
“What if they’re watching your place?” Zoe asked.
“They can’t link it to me. I’m subletting it from an acquaintance who skipped town when the creditors started coming after him. Ozzie, pull around to the back of the parking lot. Never hurts to be careful, though.” Rand jumped out. “Be right back.”
A curvy woman with blond waves opened the rear entrance. He gave her a kiss on the cheek, and they disappeared inside.
“Is he your boyfriend?” Ozzie asked, making Zoe realize she was staring at the glass door with narrowed eyes.
“No freaking way. I only met him last night.”
A few minutes later Rand walked out with two duffel bags. The woman walked out as well, concern on her expression. He handed her something that looked like a wad of cash, and they hugged again before he headed back to the car.
She didn’t care about the woman or Rand’s love life. So why did the words, “Who was that?” come out of her mouth the moment he got into the car. “Just curious,” she added with a shrug, working a little too hard to look casual.
“My neighbor. Her daughter has leukemia. Nice lady, cute kid, damned shame. I’m going to miss them.”
Nice lady didn’t indicate a romantic attachment. Giving her money was odd, but she wasn’t going to comment on that. It was none of her business.
“What’s in the bags?”
“Clothes, stuff.”
“No fair. I want to go to my place and get my clothes and stuff.” She affected a pout because she knew damn well that was impossible. “I know, don’t even say it. They do know where I live.”
Ozzie was paying attention to their conversation and trying hard not to look like he was.
Rand said, “We’ll stop at a store, and you can get what you need.”
She closed her eyes in bliss. “Hair gel, girl deodorant, clothes…”
Rand gave Ozzie directions, and a few minutes later they were in another neighborhood with small houses and nice, normal people living nice, normal lives. “You can drop us here. Thanks, dude.”
“No one’s ever called me ‘dude’ before.” Ozzie smiled, but it faded. “I think that’s good, right?”
She patted his arm. “You’re the shit, man.” She tried to hide her grin when his expression really got confused. A laugh escaped anyway. “It’s all good. Thanks.”
“Do you need me to do anything else? Score something for you? Make a drop?”
“We’re all set.” Rand pulled his bags out of the car.
She followed him around the side of a garage, where he set the bags down and felt along the top of a window frame until he produced a key. He opened the door and again waved for her to precede him.
Okay, he was sort of a gentleman.
She stepped into the gloom. “This place is creepy.” Stuff she didn’t dare identify piled up to the ceiling, and the whole place smelled musty. The car sitting to one side would only run if God Himself touched His finger to it. She wasn’t even sure what kind of car it was. “Uh, how long ago did you leave your car here?”
He laughed when he saw the pile of scrap metal. “That’s not mine.” He walked over to a dark corner. “This is mine.” He pulled on a cord and a bare lightbulb lit the space.
“Oh, no. No freaking way am I getting on that thing.”
A motorcycle. Of course!
Rand unlocked the garage door and hoisted it. “I thought you just spent a day on one of these things.”
“I just spent like almost two days on one of those.”
“Then you’d better catch Ozzie and hitch a ride back with him. These are my wheels, doll.”
She darted to the street in time to see Ozzie’s car turn the corner. With hunched shoulders, she trudged back into the garage. “Can’t one thing go my way?”
“On the contrary, it’s your lucky day. You get to hang on to me.”
Her heart jumped into her throat, and a little vibration spiraled its way down her stomach. He was straddling the bike, looking very James Deanish with a rogue grin, even more roguish considering his bruises.
She cleared her throat, but even so, her voice came out hoarse. “Nice bike. For a bike.”
The metallic blue paint flared upward into misty silver accents that reminded her of wind.
“Thanks.” He started it and let it run for a few seconds, cocking his head and listening to the engine. It was the quietest bike she’d ever heard. Then he killed the engine.
“You asked what Cheveyo rode. It was a Harley. And no, his wasn’t bigger than yours.” She gave him a devilish grin of her own. Oh, jeez, she was flirting! She liked flirting when it was fun and not serious. What bothered her was that it felt different with Rand.
Like it might actually go somewhere.
He grinned. “You know how to make a guy feel good.”
She wasn’t kidding, either. Rand’s bike was big, with storage in the back and a comfortable seat for two. “What is this? Not that I know anything about bikes.”
“It’s a Honda ST1300, what they call a sport touring bike. I call her Blue.”
He pushed the bike out of the garage, and after she followed, closed the door. He unhooked one of the helmets, set it on her head, then moved close to secure the strap. She swallowed hard as his fingers brushed the soft skin beneath her chin. “Let’s roll, babe.”
He put on his helmet and climbed onto the bike. She got on and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her thighs snugged on either side of his hips. Cheveyo hadn’t been bad to hold on to. Rand, however, gave her a tingly feeling as their bodies melded together.
“Ready?” he asked.
She rocked her hand. “Ish.”
He started the engine and pulled out of the driveway.
This was different from the grueling ride up from Key West. She wasn’t scared to death, so that was probably a factor. The guy she was holding on to hadn’t turned into a panther before her eyes. The bike itself was a big difference, too. It rode quiet, even when going fast, though the engine had a space-age whine when it accelerated. The windshield kept the wind and bugs from beating her up.
It felt odd being out in the open on a bike. The fresh air and sunshine were nice, though. Not so much the smell of exhaust fumes. Or the feeling of her butt coming off the seat whenever they hit a dip in the road. For all those hours on the back of Cheveyo’s bike, she’d seen mostly the back of his helmet and his ponytail. The neat part was watching the reflection of the road falling away.
When they stopped at a light, she asked, “Are you driving like an old lady on my account?”
He turned toward her, and their helmets bumped. “I always drive safe when I’ve got someone on the bike.”
She glanced down and saw their shadow on the asphalt. Two riders who had been strangers not very long ago.
A few minutes
later he pulled into the parking lot of an assisted-living facility that almost made Zoe want to be old. Flowers bloomed everywhere, and people strolled through the gardens and sat on benches beneath trees and played chess. It looked…safe. She never thought she’d want a safe, normal life.
She remembered Amy’s words: My life will never be the same again. To be honest, I don’t want it to be.
Pressed against Rand, their bodies damp where they touched, Zoe felt—just for a second—what Amy was talking about. Then she came to her senses.
He pulled around to the far right of the parking lot and tucked the bike into a clump of trees. Wariness replaced his earlier playfulness as he searched the surroundings before removing his helmet.
“I just want to eyeball Gram. I don’t want her to see me. I’m not in the state of mind for that right now. But I do want to talk to the manager and let them know…” He ran his fingers through his hair, now flattened by the helmet. “What? If some government agent comes in, not to let them talk to her?” Frustration tightened his face.
“I’m going to have the same issue with my granddad. We could tell them…we could say there’s some trouble in the family, and that our uncle Guido has Mafia connections.”
He raised his eyebrows at that. “Might work.”
Before giving it enough thought to stop herself, she touched his cheek. “If she sees you, she’s going to want to know why your face is bruised.”
“Oh, crap. I didn’t even think about that.”
“They’re fading but still visible.”
He leaned down into the side mirror. “She’ll see them. She misses nothing.”
She dug into her purse and produced her makeup bag. “Look at me.” She held his chin and rubbed on foundation. His green eyes locked onto hers, because at that distance he couldn’t really look anywhere else. She tried to focus on the task at hand, which was rubbing her finger along the ridge of a cheekbone most women would kill for. She fought the urge to run her finger down that strip of blond hairs on his chin.
“Randall? Thought I saw your bike come in. What are you doing hiding over there?” The voice came from a distance. A small woman with a slightly hunched back was marching right at them.
Zoe dashed on one more swipe of foundation over the healing cut on his lip and stepped aside.
His grandmother’s face brightened. “You brought a girl!” She turned her head and shouted in a voice Zoe couldn’t imagine coming from such a small woman, “Randall’s got a girlfriend! Nancy, Al, Joe, get over here!”
Rand groaned, lowering his face into his hand. Just before his gram got there, Zoe whispered, “On the contrary, it’s your lucky day,” mirroring his words. “I think this is going to be fun.”
A small cluster of old folk came over with as much vigor as his gram did. Rand pulled himself together and stepped forward to give her a hug. “Hi, Gram. This is Zoe. Zoe, this is Ruby.”
Ruby took Zoe’s hands in a firm hold and gave her a brilliant smile. “This is the first time Randall’s ever brought a girl here. You must be something special.” She looked at Rand. “Why were you hovering over here? What, you ashamed of your girlfriend? So what if she’s got tats? She’s beautiful. Looks like that gal who played in all those teenage angst movies back in the eighties.”
Rand burst out laughing at that. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as much fun as she thought. He was supposed to be in the hot seat, not her. Zoe forced a smile because she wasn’t going to argue with an old lady. But Rand was right; Gram missed nothing. In seconds she’d spotted both her ring and her ankle tattoos, which made Zoe realize her pant leg had hiked up during the ride.
Ruby turned her hand to look at her ring tattoo. “This is going to compete visually with your wedding ring, you know.”
“Ah, I wasn’t really planning on getting married.”
“Nonsense. Come on, Randall, let’s get to know your girl.”
“Uh, Gram, we really don’t have—”
Zoe looked back as she was pulled toward the table where the others Ruby had summoned were heading. “I was thinking of getting a tattoo right here, Zoe.” She pointed to a spot just above her right breast. “I want it to say ‘Go screw yourself’ backward. Then if someone pisses me off, I can tap it, send ’em the vibe, or get a mirror.”
“That’s what I happen to do,” Zoe said, grinning at Ruby’s tattoo idea and the impish spark in her eyes.
Ruby’s eyes lit up. “You’re a tattooer?” She turned to the others. “She’s a tattooer, Randall’s girlfriend. Can you believe that?”
Zoe pulled up her other pant leg, and Ruby gasped at the lifelike Dracula tattoo on her calf.
One of the men said, “Oh boy, Rand won’t be bringing us any more porno movies.”
“Or sexy massage therapists,” a tall, Italian man said. He waggled his eyebrows at Zoe. “He always brings us things to liven our spirits.”
“And brings prizes he’s won for meeting sales quotas that we use for our poker games,” Ruby added, pride in her voice.
Zoe turned to Rand. “Sales quotas?”
“For my job at the communications company, of course,” he said with a pointed smile.
Ah, he wanted her to play along. Interesting. She was pretty sure he didn’t work for anyone. Why was he lying?
Ruby patted his shoulder. “He’s the top producer in his division. He’s always winning all these prizes, and he shares them with us.”
Zoe felt a pang for a different reason this time, the motherly pride and affection she saw in Ruby.
“I’m sure he told you that I raised him since he was twelve. Have you met his mother?”
Zoe shook her head.
“Don’t blame him for that. Woman’s good for nothing, crawled into the bottle after his father died and stayed there. I’m ashamed to even call her my daughter. Randall started hanging with troublemakers, out all hours, and his mother was too stoned to even notice. That’s when I stepped in.”
“Gram, I need to talk to you…alone.” Rand nodded away from the group.
She followed Rand and Ruby to another table several yards away.
Ruby took them in with glowing anticipation. “You’re pregnant!” She eyed Zoe’s flat stomach. “Well, if you’re pregnant, then you’re getting married. No kid of mine’s letting his baby be born without his name.”
“No, Gram, it’s not that.”
Zoe noticed he hadn’t corrected her assumption that she was Rand’s girl. Then again, how would he explain her presence in his life?
After all, you have seen each other naked, that voice whispered.
She could see Rand’s mind working to come up with a story.
“Gram, there’s been some trouble at work. Someone was playing with the numbers, and I turned him in.”
“Oh, honey…like your father? Taking money?”
“Something like that.” He was a good enough liar to meet Ruby’s eyes, but Zoe could see he didn’t like doing it. “The guy has Mafia connections that reach to the government. They know about you, so if any agents come asking about me or telling you stuff—”
“They can go to hell.” Her tough expression faded, and she put her palm on Rand’s cheek. “Is that why you’re beat-up?”
Rand cringed. “A little. But I’m okay. They were just trying to scare me, that’s all.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What’s going to happen if they get serious?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m just worried about you.”
“I’m a tough old broad. What are you going to do about this business?”
“We’re going to be careful, Gram. We’ll be fine.”
She jerked her thumb back toward her friends. “Joe’s got connections, too. I can—”
Rand waved his hand. “No, I don’t want anyone else involved.”
She looked as though she were going to say something else but released a breath instead. “I know you’re capable, and too damned independent, you ask me. But check in, let me know you’re okay.
” She took the two of them in. “So, no other announcements?”
“No, that’ll do it. We’ve got to go. I’ll be in touch.”
Ruby took his hand in hers, gripping it. “Do that. And be careful. Nothing’s worth dying for.”
Rand’s face softened for a moment, and she could tell his mind had sped off in some other direction. He gave her another hug. “Bye, Gram.”
“No ‘byes.’ Just see you laters.” Ruby surprised Zoe by giving her a hug, too. “Take care of each other.”
They waved to the group and headed to the bike. He gestured to his face. “Thanks for the quick fix. I should have figured she’d spot it.”
She paused. “What were you thinking about, when she said nothing’s worth dying for?”
He stared beyond her. “I saw Lucas throw himself in front of a bullet for Amy.” He shook his head. “I can’t imagine that kind of love.”
“Wow. Me either.” She felt that ache again, remembering how the two shared such a deep connection. It made her uncomfortable. “So what’s this about your sales job?”
He tilted his head back. “I knew you weren’t going to let that slide.”
“I can’t.” She gave him a grin. “I’m your girlfriend, after all.”
He leaned against the bike with a sigh. “It made Gram happy to think I had a girlfriend. Doesn’t hurt her to believe in something that makes her happy.”
“Like you having a sales job with perks?”
He looked over at Ruby, talking with her friends. “Yeah. It’s not that I’m ashamed of gambling for a living. I’m who I am. I’d never change for anybody. I just want to be ambitious and successful for her. It makes her feel good.”
“You want to be the good guy.”
He looked at her. “I just want to pretend to be the good guy…for her.”
“You send her money. And I saw you give money to your neighbor.”
“It’s the casino’s money. I figure they’re due for some giving for a change.”
She crossed her arms in front of her and tilted her head. “You like being the hero. Robin Hood.”
He took her helmet and settled it on her head. “Not me. I’m the lone Musketeer. All for one, and all for me.” He put on his helmet and straddled the bike. “Tell me where your granddad lives.”
