by KB Winters
“Just remember I got a pregnant nose.”
I didn’t know what the hell that meant but I stood and stared at all the things Rocky had lined up on the counter. “I take it that you can have all of these things on the counter?”
“Yep.”
I diced mushrooms and onions and peppers, whipped up eggs and slid bacon into the oven. It was a mechanical sort of activity, cooking. The perfect thing to do when I needed to stop thinking and just let my mind work in the background on a solution. “Sorry, I’m not a chatty cooker.”
“That’s okay. Are you really a badass hacker babe? Lasso’s words, not mine.”
Lasso was such a guy’s guy, so alpha yet so well-meaning it was hard to take offense. “I wouldn’t say I’m any of those things. But I do have mad computer skills that I use for good and for evil, but not too evil and only if the price is right.” I shook my head as an ironic laugh bubbled out of me. “And to think, it’s not the shady jobs that sent me on the run. How’d you end up with a cowboy biker?”
She laughed and shook her head. “Actually, it was a one night stand. He was in San Diego for a wedding and I was catering the reception. He was charming and stepped in when a few of my ex’s goons got a bit too handsy. One thing led to another and we had the most amazing night together. Like you, I ran to him when trouble fell in my lap.”
Damn. That was kind of cool but when I thought about what that could possibly mean for me, I froze. “Good for you,” I said uncomfortably.
Like she’d read my mind she breezed on. “It might not happen, but I’m pretty sure it will,” she said with a smug smile. “Lasso’s never seen Jag serious about a girl. A woman, sorry.”
“Jag isn’t serious about me, Rocky. We’re old friends and he’s a good guy who wants to help me out. If anything, he probably feels bad that he ghosted me.” Which was something I needed to keep in mind whenever my thoughts became a little too fanciful.
Rocky gave me a side-eye and said, “I don’t think so, but I can see you’re hardheaded. Plus I’m hardly going to lecture someone who took my weak ass breakfast and turned it into a feast. Me and baby thank you.” She dug in before I could even grab a chair, but I wasn’t judging. Sharing meals with another person was a rarity, so I tried to enjoy it.
“Not a feast. Eat up.”
She picked up her phone, typed a message and put it down before picking up her fork. “Your eggs are way fluffier than mine. What did you add?”
“Salt and pepper. I just cooked them on a lower heat so they get fluffy as they cook instead of flat.”
The bedroom door opened down the hall and Lasso’s heavy footsteps sounded on the floor. “Somebody said breakfast?”
“Have a seat. Look at all this food Vivi made for us! The baby is super happy!” Rocky even did a little dance as she ate, wiggling her hips with each bite.
“Thanks. You didn’t poison mine did you?”
“I didn’t have time to pack it on such short notice.”
He stared at me and then burst out laughing. “Yeah, you’re exactly what a serious dude like Jag needs.”
“I’m not what anybody needs.” I stabbed my eggs and ignored the stares between him and Rocky. “We used to be friends, that’s it.”
“Bullshit. But you’re scared, I get it. I was too, that’s why I married my baby before she could run away. Didn’t fall for her until later.”
Rocky frowned. “I thought you said you fell in love with me in San Diego?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.
“Of course I did, babe. But later, when we were running for our lives that love changed. Grew up. Matured. My point, Vivi, is that you should be scared. Love is serious business.”
“Who the hell said anything about love?” I stood and got more coffee. “Just because you’re all coupled up and happy doesn’t mean everyone is headed that way. I have work to do.” With that, I stormed into the guest room feeling like a fucking child.
A petulant child.
Chapter Seventeen
Jag
The ride up to Tahoe had been uneventful and the transaction with our weapons guy was just how I liked these things to go, quick and easy. There was no drama, no changing of terms and no attempts at bullshit. He got our money and we got our guns loaded up in the van and were on our way in less than an hour.
But Cross wanted to talk strategy so we stopped for dinner at an all-night diner somewhere in Reno instead of driving straight back. I could admit that I was eager to get back to Vivi because I wanted to see her and no other reason, which made me sound like a fucking lovesick teenager.
“So we know what our options are,” Cross began when the adolescent waitress brought our burgers and fries. “The question is, do we want war?”
Savior snorted. “Sorry Prez but the question isn’t do we want it, it’s can we afford it? We have businesses to worry about, women and some of us have families to think about, too. We’re not kids anymore, Cross.”
The expression that flashed on Cross’s face was deadly, but it was gone as fast as it had appeared. “Yeah, that’s how time works, Savior. But this is about the club, not what we all have to lose personally.” It was a shitty thing that people didn’t want to hear, but Cross was the President and it was his job to think about the club. Not just our club but the whole Reckless Bastards Organization, which would all be threatened by war.
“I hear ya, but the facts are facts.” Savior, once the biggest dog of all of us, had softened when he’d fallen for a fallen brother’s younger sister. “I’ll do what I have to do but we need to make sure this is the best option.”
“I agree with Savior,” Max said. His deep gruff voice always sounded a little rusty because he was so damn quiet. “Do we have any other options?”
We had a few options but before we could discuss them any further, a table full of frat boys settled in next to us. It was one thing to discuss club business inside a public, but deserted, restaurant but it was unheard of to do it where anyone might overhear. Especially this kind of information.
“I could use a smoke,” Savior said. The rest of us got up from the table with him, dropping a few bills on the table before we filed out. By the time we caught up with him, Savior had a half finished cigarette hanging between his lips. “Come on, Jag. Let’s hear it.”
“Cross could slip these photos to the Roadkill Prez and let them deal with him.”
“But we run the risk that they already know what he’s doing to cover their asses and we tip our hand,” Max said, shocking the shit out of all of us. Not with his idea but with his use of all the words.
“Exactly,” I told him. “Though that’s unlikely since the meetings and communication have all been clandestine. Or we can prod them into doing some shit the feds won’t be able to ignore. Get rid of them for good.” That was my preference but Vivi’s shimmering gray eyes kept playing behind in my mind. The tortured sound of her voice as she talked about the costs of war stayed with me. Maybe it would be better to let Roadkill handle their own shit.
“I suppose you have a plan for that?” Cross sounded more amused than annoyed but there was definitely some annoyance there.
“Not yet but give me a few days and I might.” A short nod was about as good as it would get from Cross right now and I didn’t need his validation. Not on this.
“When you do, I’ll be ready to listen.” Cross stood tall among us, carrying himself apart from us. Not on purpose but as the leader he was responsible for everything and everyone. The burden hung heaviest on him but he never complained.
We spent a few hours dicking around at a casino while a couple prospects watched the van filled with guns and after a few cups of coffee, we were all back on the road. The drive wasn’t long, about six hours and it was nice to just let my bike go for a while. Not that my mind was clear at all, it wasn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking of all the things that could go wrong for me. The Club. Vivi.
Even as the road became a blur as I rode behind Cross and right beside Ma
x, my mind wouldn’t shut the fuck up. Vivi was in real danger and there was a good chance I’d be too deep in club shit to protect her. I hoped it didn’t come to that. I really fucking did.
But we were close to home which meant I would soon have Vivi in my arms. In my bed.
Lights flashed behind us, drawing my attention. In the mirror I could only see Savior’s lights flashing, a sign that something was wrong. I raised a hand to let him know I saw him and then I moved closer to Max to get his attention. “Something’s up!”
He nodded and fell back, leaving me to pull up beside Cross to let him know we had trouble. But the moment our front wheels aligned a bullet whizzed by my head. The sound was unmistakable, even through the muffled noise of my helmet and the engine revving at close to eighty miles an hour. “Shots?”
I nodded and pulled back again, reaching for my own firearm. It could be dangerous, carrying a firearm over state lines but we had an out of the way spot where we met with our contact so if cops came sniffing around it would be because someone had dropped the dime on us. And that only made me think about Rizzoli and those feds. Something still didn’t feel right about that but now wasn’t the time to wonder.
Another bullet flew by but this time the source was clear. The shooter was behind us. There was a curve up ahead which could give us time to put some distance between us, or it could slow us down and sign our death warrants.
“Gun it,” I yelled to Cross while I pulled off the to the side of the road and dismounted. Max stayed right with me, finding cover behind a boulder as Savior hung back and positioned himself behind the fucking lowrider and the two bikes behind it, which put him between the van with our shipment of guns and those assholes.
“Ready?” Max’s deadly serious expression lit with awareness, with that focus all former servicemembers got when the game was back on. Shoulders squared, Max pulled a handgun from his holster and dropped down on knee.
“Fuck yeah.” I leaned on the other side of my bike, using the seat to line up my shots as I heard the bikes approaching. “You take the first fucker and I’ll handle the second.”
Max nodded and turned his focus to the road. I hated to say it, but this reminded me of my days in the military in the best way possible. Honing in on a target with razor sharp focus, letting nothing else distract you. Not thoughts of home nor gray-eyed girls. Not the fly buzzing around your ear nor the glint of sun doing its best to blind you. The only thing that mattered was the target. Whether ten feet or a thousand feet, the target was the priority.
The roar of the bike engine purred and whined as they rounded the bend, gunning it to catch up with the bikes they expected to see. The sound of Max’s shot pierced the air, followed seconds later by mine. Both bikes went down, sending the riders skidding across the pavement.
Savior pulled up the rear, making room for our guys to pass unharmed before doubling back to the assholes laid out on the asphalt. Max stood and drew closer to the other one and I had his six, sweeping the landscape in search of more shooters while keeping an eye on the felled drivers.
“What do you see?”
“Roadkill pieces of shit,” Savior said, spitting on the one closest to him. “What were you hoping to accomplish asshole?”
“Max?” I shouted.
“Same,” he called out with a grunt and a second later a shot rang out. “Son of a bitch! That fucker shot me.”
My feet were on the move, drawing closer to Max who stood with one hand cupping his shoulder. “Talk to me, Max.”
“I’m fine, the fucking thing just grazed me. Surprised me is all.”
Savior rushed over and kicked the guy’s handgun off into the weeds by the side of the road and then kicked the asshole in the gut for good measure.
I pulled up the sleeve of Max’s shirt just to be sure it was just a flesh wound and it was, but that was too close. Too fucking close. Kneeling down by the dick licker, I stared at him, my gun pointed to his head. “What the fuck is this about?”
The jackass grinned. “Payback’s a bitch.”
“That would be you, pussy. Are you going to make me ask you again or are we gonna be adults about this?”
“Fuck. You.” He laughed and I joined in, realizing the absurdity of the moment while I was in it. I stuck my finger behind his ear, a move I learned in the military.
“Ow, you motherfucker! Goddamn piece of shit!”
“That pain you feel right now, that’s my finger.” He panted and squirmed but the pain was too intense for him to truly fight back. “But you see when I do that,” I applied more pressure and his body sagged in relief. “The pain goes away but just imagine how it’ll feel when I release that spot.”
His eyes went wide, his breaths were even shallower. “Fuck, man! I don’t know.”
“That’s not good enough.” I let the pressure go and he howled in pain. “See? Now tell me why the fuck you’re shooting at us.”
“We don’t know, okay? Boss man said—”
“Boss man, who? White Boy Craig?”
“No, Vigo sent us.”
I looked up and both Max and Savior were scowling. “To kill us?”
“No. To make a grab for whatever’s in the van.”
“Piece of shit!” Savior yelled at the kid, who I could see now was just that, a kid. Probably not even a full fucking club member yet. I stood and held Savior back. “What the fuck Jag, he just—”
“He just told us exactly what we needed to know.” Vigo wasn’t looking to kill us, not yet anyway. He wanted to make us do something stupid so the feds could step in and freeze our cash, maybe hand out a few promotions afterward. That wouldn’t happen, not on my fucking watch. “Let’s get out of here.”
“And leave them? You fuckin’ nuts, man?”
Yeah, I was nuts. I turned to the kid, still writhing on the ground. “Tell Rizzoli he better watch his fucking back!” We all walked away and took off down the road, eager to check on our Prez and our guns.
“What the hell was that?” Savior’s voice was accusatory when we got back to the clubhouse. “We should’ve fucking killed those fuckers!” He got in my face like he always did, assuming because I wasn’t always a loud mouth like him that I was a pushover.
“Some problems require you to use your brain man, not your fists.” I could feel Cross’s gaze on me, but I didn’t turn to him. This was about Savior and him trusting that he wasn’t the only guy in the room who could handle shit. “Vigo wants to test us, make us do something stupid but now we know he’s still working with the feds.”
“This kumbaya shit won’t cut it, Jag.”
I laughed. “Said the guy who was just bitching that a war with Roadkill might interfere with getting laid by his new girlfriend.”
“Watch your mouth, mother fucker!” Savior yelled.
“Or what?” My chest puffed out, daring my brother to pick a fight with me.
“Or I’ll have to watch it for you.” Savior was spoiling for a fight and that made me wonder what else was going on in his life.
“If you plan to watch my mouth, I better get some more lip balm.” I smacked my lips together and Savior smiled.
“Asshole. We should have kicked his fuckin’ ass!”
My lips parted in a smile. “You might just get your chance, man. Relax.”
Easy for him to say when Mandy worked in one of the most secure locations in the whole damn city.
“I’m about to, Jag. Got a whole new shipment of guns to play with. Wanna come?”
“No can do, gotta go make sure Lasso and Vivi are still alive.” They would be. I was sure of it.
I hoped.
Chapter Eighteen
Vivi
You don’t know who you’re messing with.
That was all the anonymous text message said. If it was meant to scare me, it failed spectacularly in pointing out the obvious. I didn’t know, not yet, but I had a pretty good idea who it was. If scaring me was the goal, then I was being chased by the stupidest criminal on the
planet.
“I have a pretty good idea,” I said out loud as I deleted the message, but not before checking out the metadata to confirm it was routed through an anonymous third party carrier, which meant it couldn’t be traced. Not without a court order.
The asshole had to be Blaise because Rizzoli had his plate full at the moment. The other asshole, Rizzoli, not the governor, had attacked Jag and his guys on their way back from wherever they’d gone. Though Jag didn’t say it, the move had shaken all of them. Hell, it had shaken me too. Made me realize just how dangerous life could be with a motorcycle club in your orbit.
Too bad I had plans for Rizzoli. Plans to fuck up his whole world and then shit all over it. “That’s entirely too much damn thinking before the alarm goes off.” Jag’s thick arms wrapped around my waist, his hot hands roaming the expanse of my skin until I shivered.
“How do you know how much thinking I’m doing?”
“The damn grinding gear shifts woke me up. What’s on your mind?”
“Your friend was shot, Jag. That easily could have been you and I fucking hate it.”
He turned me onto my back and leaned onto his torso so we were chest to chest, deep brown eyes smiling and serious as they seared through me. “I’m glad you hate it because it means you care but this is my life Vivi.”
I knew that, I’d been telling myself that since he picked me up from Lasso and Rocky’s place. His life was constant danger and threats. It was something I needed to keep telling myself until it stuck. “I’m aware, Jag. Doesn’t mean it’s a pleasant experience. Anyway, I was just … plotting.”
His smile widened as his lips closed in on me, pressed against mine slow and sensual. “You’re really sexy when you go all evil genius on me, you know that?”
“Tell me more,” I purred and wrapped my arms around his neck. My legs followed suit as his hips pressed against mine, not enough to give me exactly what I wanted but just enough to send shards of light shooting out behind my eyes.
