Kincaid: Cerberus Mc Book 1

by James, Marie

  We settle in at a table away from the other group of guys. The waitress is at our table immediately, taking our drink and food order. Although Diego recommended the taco bar, we both order food that keeps us at the table rather than having to get up to make tacos.

  “What are the plans when we get back to your place?” I realized before falling asleep on the ride over that I’d agreed to go to New Mexico but have no idea what happens once we get there.

  “I’ll get you settled at the clubhouse. You’ll have a room there.” He takes a sip of the soda the waitress brought and placed in front of him.

  “You live at a clubhouse?”

  His smile is from ear to ear. His genuine happiness and handsome face makes me squirm slightly in my seat.

  “We have a building where members meet, hang out, and socialize.”

  “For the biker gang?” I fiddle with the napkin in front of me.

  “Club,” he says. I raise my eyes and an eyebrow at him, clearly not able to distinguish the difference. “It’s a club, Emmalyn. We’re not criminals. Everyone in the club is former military. We’ve all served our country, and even after discharging we continue to serve our country. We just do it differently now.”

  He doesn’t expound on his last statement, so I decide to push a bit.

  “So that’s not guns and drugs in the duffle bags in the van?”

  His light laugh is rich and sultry, gaining the attention of several people in the restaurant.

  “No drugs, Em. I promise.” No drugs. That still implies that there are guns. I lower my attention back to the napkin my hands are unconsciously shredding.

  “Em?” I cut my eyes back to his. “We were in Denver helping the police find my cousin’s kidnapped girlfriend. We specialize in recon and recovery; we aren’t running guns. The weapons in the back of that van are being transported one hundred percent legally. You have nothing to worry about.” He cuts his eyes at the table with the other guys at it. “Well, stay away from Wrench.”

  I nod my head in understanding as the waitress sets our food on the table in front of us.

  “You live at the clubhouse?” I ask as I pick up my fork.

  “I stay there sometimes, but I have a house in town.”

  I take a bite of food as he continues.

  “I’m going to be there alone with…” I swallow roughly and cut my eyes at the table with the other bikers. “You’re not going to be there?”

  He gives me what I’m certain he knows is a panty-melting smile. It’s a knowing smile, a smile that says he’s well aware I want him there. He has it all wrong because I need him there to feel safe.

  “I’ll stay there as long as you’re there, Em.” His voice is reassuring with only a hint of the seduction left from his smile just a second ago. “I have no clue what type of man your husband is, but I’m not taking any chances. The safest place in the world you can be is at that club.” I watch his lips as he wipes his mouth with his napkin. “My brothers will protect you with their life.”

  I smile at him. “You have brothers there?” I wonder if they look as good as he does.

  “The club is like a family. I do have a brother; he’s older.” My smile grows, and he raises an eyebrow at me, but he doesn’t call me out on my response to the brother news. “He’s still in active service and won’t be home for a couple of months, but the guys in the club are all like brothers to me. We’re a family.”

  Family.

  Such a simple word, but one that carries with it so much responsibility and support.

  “Even Wrench?” I ask sarcastically.

  “Well, Wrench is another story. I was very close to his younger brother Socket, but he didn’t make it back from his last tour.” He sits back further in the booth and clears his throat; the emotion obviously not something he’s comfortable with.

  “Wrench and Socket. Brothers,” I say playfully. “Seriously?”

  He smiles back at me. “They were mechanics.” He shrugs his shoulders. “It just fit.”

  “And they call you Kincaid. Why?”

  “I doodle.” He smirks at me, his chocolate brown eyes glistening.

  “Doodle?” I ask with a laugh.

  “I like to draw. The guys started calling me Kincaid as a joke.” He shrugs, “It stuck.”

  I tilt my head in confusion.

  “Thomas Kincaid was a painter. He usually did houses, cottages, and landscapes,” he explains. “The guys I went to boot camp with weren’t very original.”

  The conversation continues easily during the meal until Diego excuses himself. The second he stands and walks toward the exit, Shadow takes his spot in the booth across from me. He doesn’t say anything he’s just there. Oddly, it’s comforting and not awkward at all.

  Chapter 6

  “No, Doc,” I say into the phone. “Not even her. I want them all gone before we get there.”

  “The boys you got with you aren’t going to be happy when they get here,” Doc says with a light laugh.

  “They can go elsewhere. I want the clubhouse cleared. Members only. We’ll be rolling in about nine,” I tell him after a quick glance at the screen of my phone.

  “Shadow said you were acting strange.” There is no inflection in his voice.

  “Y’all need to quit gossiping like fucking teenage girls. Do you think you can handle it or do I need to talk to Itchy about it?” I hear him huff. Itchy is one of the newest, most ambitious members. I’m not close to him, but I appreciate his eagerness to help when other members ask. Doc is older, and although I’d trust him with every secret I’ve ever had, he’s not the first one to raise his hand when it comes to menial tasks.

  “Asshole,” he spits in the phone and hangs up. I laugh because I know he’s going to take care of everything I asked.

  I can’t hide the club girls from her. Hell, they’ll probably be there when she wakes up in the morning, but I don’t want her to be hit in the face with them the minute she steps foot into the clubhouse. The thought about the club girls reminds me immediately, with a sharp ache in my balls, that my plans for release were interrupted last night by Emmalyn’s asshole husband. Not that I regret the situation I’m in right now. I’d be lying if I said I was only interested in her safe escape from the asshole.

  Unexplainably, I feel drawn to her. I don’t know if it’s her incredibly aware, blue eyes, the sway of her hips when she walks away, or the way my heart speeds up a bit when I hear her voice. All I know is the last time I got a rush of adrenaline like I do with her was years ago when I had my first enemy combatant in the crosshairs of my sniper rifle.

  Then, the rush was from the possibility of loss of life, mine as well as the terrorists. Now? I’m afraid my reaction to her is much deadlier than even the most critical of missions the Marine’s ever sent me on.

  ***

  I try to look at the clubhouse with new eyes as we approach, but I’m so tired I’m just glad to be back home. I head to the van to help the guys unload. Before I can make it over there, it looks like every single member of the club comes out to “help.” When, in fact, I know they’re being nosy and want to see who the woman is I’m bringing back. Shadow must have run his mouth to more than just Doc since last night.

  I frown, but let them gather the duffle bags from the back. Nodding as several of the guys greet me on my way to the passenger seat of the van, I smile at their quick help and straining necks as I reach for the door handle. “Clear out,” I tell them before pulling her door open.

  I watch as she sticks her head around the door frame just a few inches to see what is going on. “Who are all of those men?” I can hear the quiver in her voice even before I see her lips tremble.

  “Club members,” I tell her holding out a hand for her to take. “You’re safe here, Em. You have nothing to worry about.” I turn my head to make sure the other guys have made themselves scarce.

  I help her out of the van and keep a hold of her hand as we walk inside. The recreation area is empty and clean
. I’m sure Doc put each and every man here tonight to work straightening it up. It’s never really messy but tends to get cluttered when the guys come in to hang out and begin to strip out of their gear.

  As we make our way to the hall where the rooms are, I see movement out of the corner of my eye. Emmalyn notices it too and stiffens beside me. Doc approaches us with an ear to ear grin on his face and a mischievous glint in his eye.

  “Doc, I’d like you to meet Emmalyn.” I sweep my hand toward the oldest member of the club. “Emmalyn, this is Doc. He keeps this entire organization running.”

  I hear a feminine huff behind him and smile when Rose comes into view. Emmalyn reaches her hand out timidly and accepts Doc’s offer of a handshake.

  “This beautiful woman behind him is his old lady, Rose.”

  “His better half,” Rose says as she swats Em’s hand out of the way and wraps her arms around her for an impromptu hug.

  “Hi,” Emmalyn says softly as Rose takes a small step backward, rewarding Em with the personal space she’d just invaded.

  “How was the ride down?” Doc asks more to me than Em.

  “Pretty smooth. The weather cooperated the whole time,” I tell him and take a closer step to the obviously nervous Emmalyn. “Let me show you your room,” I tell her and raise my eyebrows to Doc. The slight nod of his head tells me he was able to take care of everything I requested of him earlier. He hands me the key to her room as I walk past.

  I guide her down the long hallway to the very end where the matching, side-by-side doors are. Using the key Doc just gave me I open the door to the left.

  “I’m right beside you,” I say indicating the door to the right. I swing the door open and let her enter first.

  I smile at the look on her face when her biker gang clubhouse assumptions are blown out of the water.

  “It’s very,” she pauses to look around again. She turns to me and smiles. “It’s very nice, Diego.”

  “It’s the Presidential Suite,” I tell her with seriousness. “This room is used when other MC Presidents come to visit.”

  Her eyes widen slightly. “Are you expecting any of them soon?”

  “No, Em. This room is yours as long as you want it.”

  She cuts her eyes to the door still unsure of her safety.

  “Here,” I say and hold out the key in my hand. She takes it, and I pull my set of keys out of my pocket. “There are only two keys to this room, Em.” I begin to pull the club’s master key off of my keychain; I place it in her hand. “Now you have both.”

  She clutches both of them tightly in her hand. “Why are you helping me?” she asks while looking at her closed fist.

  I sweep a finger under her chin and tilt her face upward so I can look into her questioning, cobalt eyes. I shrug my shoulders and wink at her. “I think you’re cute.”

  Her smile grows immediately until she’s laughing at my ridiculous comment in such a serious moment. As fast as her laughter starts it stops, and I see her eyes dart to my mouth. I bite my lip for good measure and take note of the darkening in her gaze.

  I release her face and take a step back trying to ignore the echo of her laugh as it settles in my thickening cock. I resist the urge to adjust myself into a more comfortable position and clear my throat. I angle my head to the bed.

  “Rose got you a couple of things to wear. It’s enough for tonight and tomorrow. She’s going to take you to buy more tomorrow.” I take a step toward the door. “The bathroom should have enough for tonight. Make a list of what’s not in there so you can grab it tomorrow.”

  Before I can leave the room, she finally speaks up. “Diego.” I turn my attention back to her. “Thank you,” she whispers with sincerity.

  I take a few steps toward her. I lean in and kiss her cheek softly, smiling at the low hum that ghosts past her lips. “Anytime,” I breathe into her ear. “I’m going to order some pizza. Usually takes them about an hour to get it here. Grab a shower,” I say stepping back from her before I give into the voice in my head telling me to taste her lips. “Wash the day off of you and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

  “Okay,” she says softly as I walk toward the door and close it quietly behind me, smiling when I hear the lock engage.

  I round the corner into the common area and see Wrench leaning against the wall. He doesn’t say anything, but he has a look on his face that makes me want to punch him in the nose.

  “I was serious before and I’m serious now, Wrench. Keep your distance from her.” He sneers at me but doesn’t say a word. I immediately regret the bylaws I wrote years ago when this club came to fruition.

  Chapter 7

  I lock the door behind Diego the second he leaves and look down at the twin keys in my hand. I have no reason to doubt him, so I’m pretty certain these are, just like he said, the only keys to this door.

  I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m waiting for him to change, paying attention to each and every mannerism. His consistency has set my mind slightly at ease, but I know better than to let my guard down completely, especially in the middle of a motorcycle club’s home turf, which is loaded with big burly men. I have no clue if any of them are trustworthy, and I have to assume, for my own safety, that each and every one of them is just as creepy as Wrench.

  I sit on the edge of the bed that’s big enough for a handful of people to sleep comfortably in and open my purse. He wants me to go shopping tomorrow. With what? I think as I open the small zipper section and squeeze my fingers into the small tear in the pocket. I wiggle them around until I find the folded cash I have there. I was going to add this to the envelope Bobby found yesterday. Thank God I didn’t.

  I tug it free, unfold, and count it. $24. Add that to the loose change in the bottom of my purse and I may be pushing twenty-six dollars. I can buy an entirely new wardrobe with it; I think and even in my head, the sarcasm is pitiful.

  “How the hell am I supposed to go shopping tomorrow when I’m totally broke?” I mumble to myself as I scoop the bag of clothes off of the bed and lock myself in the bathroom.

  When we pulled up to the nondescript building earlier, I noticed that it looks more like a very large shop of some kind. People who drive by it may think it’s used for a carpentry business or small warehouse. When I stepped inside and saw that it was fully furnished and looked like a home I was happily surprised since I’d assumed walking to the front door, I’d be sleeping in a cold, drafty room. Even that, I would’ve been grateful for considering I’m now homeless.

  The way Diego paid for the room, how he had clothes for me this morning, and now these clothes, I’m certain he will once again offer to pay for my things tomorrow. But at what cost? What will he expect from me? I have nothing to offer him, and I was very insistent last night that he shouldn’t expect sexual favors in exchange. Not that I’d do that anyway.

  The bag holds a couple pairs of jeans, t-shirts, underwear, and a bra that surprisingly is my size. I look at the still intact price tags. They’re not designer, but they’re not Target brand either. As I remove the tags from the clothes, I write down their prices on a piece of paper I had stuffed in my purse. I add the cost of the hotel room from last night as well.

  I have nothing right now so I may have to let him buy everything I need, but I’ll be damned if I won’t pay him back. I won’t allow anyone to have that much power over me again. I have to take control of my life even though I have no idea how to even start.

  I strip out of my clothes and climb into the shower, standing in the corner away from the spray while the water warms. Different types of shampoos and conditioners line the two small inset shelves. Most are masculine, but a few are what I’d consider to be feminine scented. I work the shampoo into my hair and wince as some of the suds find their way into my eyes.

  I squeeze them shut and finish rinsing the soap from my hair before turning my burning eyes into the spray. I can’t even wash my hair without getting hurt. The first sob escaped my lips when this reali
zation hit. With no more strength left in my body, I sink to the floor of the shower and cry until my tears run out and the only thing flowing over my face is the now cooling water from the shower head.

  If the water hadn’t run cold, I would’ve stayed in the shower the rest of the night. That combined with the distress signals my stomach were sending out I begrudgingly got out of the shower, toweled myself dry, and got dressed in clothes that I couldn’t even call mine.

  Another oddity about this place is the hair dryer I found in the cabinet under the sink. I don’t question it because I’m very happy with it being there. After drying my hair, I slip both door keys in my pocket, making sure they’re pushed down to the bottom and have no chance of working their way out.

  Before leaving the room, I silently wish that Diego would just bring me food in the room, but I immediately want to slap myself for being so ungrateful. He’s been more generous than I could ever expect someone to be to a complete stranger and here I am wanting more than he’s already given.

  I make my way out of the room and trace my steps back from when Diego brought me in earlier. The place is mausoleum silent. I usually welcome the silence. At least, I did when I was home; it meant Bobby was either gone or asleep. In this new setting, however, it’s unnerving; almost like someone is going to jump out and get me.

  I stop short in the doorway when I see Diego sitting at the table in a white undershirt. Every inch of the exposed skin on his arms is covered in vibrant tattoos. One arm is decorated with all black tattoos, but the other has, from what I can tell, every color of the rainbow.

  My eyes see the fierce yet sexy man in front of me, but my nose and body recognizes the smell of the pizza sitting to the left of his arm. My stomach chooses this exact moment to remind me I’m hungry by emitting a low growl. Diego’s head snaps up at the noise, and his smile grows as he closes the cover of the notebook he was drawing in.