“Jake.” Celia sweeps a cool look over him. “I see you’re still existing.”
“Waiting on you to come to your senses.”
She sneers at him.
Murphy chuckles but I slide a cool look Celia’s way. She’s always mean to Jake. Although, he seems to egg it on, if not outright enjoy it, so I guess it’s really none of my business.
“All right.” Aubrey grabs her sister’s arm and drags her past Jake, stopping next to Murphy.
From what Murphy says, Aubrey’s helped the gym get their social media straightened out. I’m jealous she has time to plan her own wedding, finish school, and create her little social media empire.
Jake drops an arm over Aubrey’s shoulder. “How’s my favorite almost-sister-in-law?”
“Nuts.” Aubrey asks. “Is Trinity here by any chance?”
“She’s next door working.” Murphy jerks his thumb in the direction of Trinity’s photography studio next door. “But Wrath’s in a good mood. If you need to talk to him about some PR stuff, now’s the time.”
Aubrey eyes the back door like she doesn’t quite trust Murphy’s assessment of Wrath’s mood.
Of course, Wrath chooses that moment to step outside. “Anyone care to explain to me why everyone who works here is outside?”
“I was on my break.” Murphy taps his chest. “Jake came out to get shot down by Celia again.”
Celia rolls her eyes.
Wrath’s gaze lowers, settling on Aubrey. Poor girl. She could stand on the picnic table and still not be anywhere near eye-to-eye with him. “What’s up, Aubrey?”
“She’s here to see me!” Trinity jogs over the small patch of grass between parking lots for the gym and her photography studio.
Wrath’s irritation over finding us all chilling outside seems to disappear as soon as his gaze lands on Trinity. “You’re not here for your husband?”
“That too.” She wraps her arms around him for a second before turning to me. “You’re still available tomorrow night, right?”
“I’m done with my clinical by three-thirty. I can make it here by five.”
“That works. Thanks, Heidi.”
I have clinicals in three different locations this semester, which makes it harder and harder to hold onto my job as Trinity’s assistant. Since I enjoy the job and Trinity is club family, I don’t want to quit if I don’t have to.
Grumbling, Wrath steers her inside and motions for Aubrey to follow. Celia glances at Jake, then hurries to catch up with her sister.
The second Jake takes a step toward the door, Murphy grabs his arm. “You know one of these days, she’s gonna rip off your balls and stuff them down your throat, right?”
“Counting on it.” Jake winks at me before heading inside.
“Is it bravery or stupidity?” I ask.
Blake doesn’t so much as blink. “Horniness.”
I snort-laugh.
The back door whooshes open again, and Wrath calls out, “Murphy, you want to run down to Crystal Ball and grab something from Dex for me?”
“Now?”
“No, next year.”
Blake rolls his eyes but agrees.
I follow him inside where he stops in his office and grabs his cut. “You want to come with me?”
Assuming it’s some sort of club business, I ask, “Is that okay?”
“Yeah, it’s no big deal.” He takes my hand, and we stop at my car where I grab my helmet out of the trunk.
Once I’m snuggled against his back, I wrap my arms around him. “I don’t think I’ve ridden with you since we got back from Texas.”
He reaches back and squeezes my leg. “Your old man should do better. Need to take you out more often.”
I tighten my hold, and he rubs his hand over my arms before firing up the bike.
Dex is waiting in the back parking lot for us and ambles over as soon as Blake shuts down the bike.
“Hey, Heidi-girl, didn’t expect to see you.” He gives me a quick hug once I take off my helmet and shake out my hair.
“I was just visiting.” I tip my head back and take in the twilight sky. “It’s a nice night for a ride.”
“Too bad he wasn’t taking you somewhere better than here, huh?” Dex nudges my shoulder and slaps Blake’s arm.
I eye the back door of Crystal Ball. While we used to hang out in the garage out back and the old clubhouse next door when we were kids, somehow, I’ve never been inside Crystal Ball. My brother always made it clear stripping wasn’t in my future career plans, and I really had no interest.
Blake wraps his hand around mine, and we follow Dex across the parking lot.
“You okay?” Blake asks in a low voice.
“I feel like Dorothy about to get a peek behind the curtain.”
He snorts. “Accurate way to put it.”
“I heard that,” Dex says over his shoulder. “This is a respectable entertainment company, Heidi.”
“Sorry, Uncle Dex.”
He’s grinning as he holds open the back door for me, so he’s not mad, thankfully. We enter a darkened hallway. Music pulses through the air, but I can’t see anything except a few tables and a section of the bar from back here.
“Hey, Murphy,” someone sings out.
Well, that took about eight seconds.
Blake groans. “How’s it going, Regan?”
Dex motions for the tall blonde in the eight-inch clear platforms heels to wait. “Give me five minutes, Murphy. I’ll be right back.” He stops at the open office door. “Just don’t violate my desk, please.”
By the time I get his meaning, Dex is gone.
“Gross.” I glance at the desk. “I can only imagine what that desk has seen.”
Blake closes the door behind us. “You have no idea.”
“So, Regan…” I try to inject a casual lack of concern into my voice, but it’s futile.
“Has worked here for a while,” he finishes for me. “And before you ask, no, I don’t know her in that way.”
“I didn’t say a word.”
He takes both of my hands and stares down at me. “You don’t have to. I know my girl.”
There’s a quick knock at the door before it opens to Dex shielding his eyes. “Please don’t—oh, thank God.”
“Shut up, asshole.” Blake laughs and shoves Dex.
When they finish joking around, Dex unlocks a giant safe stored in the corner and hands Blake a thick envelope.
Blake stuffs it in his cut without looking inside or commenting on it.
“You want to stop next door and see how the clubhouse is coming along?” Dex offers.
“Sure.” Blake turns to check with me, and I nod.
How did I not notice this when we pulled into the parking lot? “Wow, it’s coming along fast. Looks like it will be a lot bigger than the old one was.”
Dex stares at the frame of the building for a second before glancing at me. “Shit, Heidi. Sometimes I forget how long you’ve been part of the club.”
Happiness that he considers me part of the club turns my mouth up. “Some of my happiest memories as a kid were hanging out in the old garage you had back there.” I gesture toward the new clubhouse’s parking lot.
Sadness seems to dim Dex’s expression. Maybe the thought of a little girl hanging out in an MC’s garage is depressing as hell to Dex, but I never saw it that way.
He and Blake move on to discussing the clubhouse. How many rooms. Ravage’s request for a sex room.
Now, that’s something I can help with. “You know who to talk to when it’s time to stock it with sex toys.” I grin at Dex’s shocked face.
Blake chuckles and hooks his arm around my shoulders. “My girl wants to spread joy everywhere.”
I grin at him.
Dex shakes his head quickly. “I’ll let someone else deal with that.”
“I better get back,” Blake says.
He and Dex bump fists, and we take off.
The quick outing was a nice distractio
n from my problems. Part of me wants to tap Blake’s shoulder and ask him to keep going.
Ten
Heidi
While I pop my trunk open and set my helmet inside, Blake groans. “I don’t want you to go.”
“But you need to get back to work.” I slam the hatch down. “And I need to get home and read Alexa a bedtime story.”
His mouth twists. “Shit, I hate working so late. I gotta fix this soon.”
I stand on tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “You’re there for her almost every morning.”
Before I can move an inch, he slips an arm around my waist, holding me against him. I poke him in the chest and run my fingers over the Furious Fitness logo on his T-shirt. “Making her breakfast. Discussing her favorite mythological creature of the day. A few night shifts won’t erase that.”
“You have any idea how much I love you?” He dips down, resting his forehead against mine. “Meant what I said earlier.”
“About?”
His hand drops to my hip, and he brushes his thumb over my stomach. “Adding to our family.”
Earlier, his declaration sent a shiver of fear through my belly. Had me questioning whether I’m ready to make motherhood twice as hard.
Now it sends heat pooling between my legs. “All right.”
He pulls me in for a longer, searing kiss.
Abruptly, he pulls away. “Can you grab something out of the saddle bag?” He tips his head toward his bike.
“What?”
“Anything.”
Confused, I bend over and start undoing one of the buckles. It hits me that he’s messing around, and I laugh. “You just want to stare at my ass.”
He confirms my accusation by grabbing my hips and pulling me into his groin. It’s dark enough now that I press my hands into the seat, still warm from our ride, and arch my back.
“Do you think I would’ve made a good dancer?” I sway my hips from side to side to underscore the question.
“At Crystal Ball?” Even though I can’t see his face, his tone does plenty to imply the absurdity of the idea.
“Blake?” I glance over my shoulder and find him staring at the sky.
“Give me a second.” He points to his head. “I got a mental image of what that would look like and now I want to go on a murder spree.”
I face him and loop my arms around his neck. “Do you think I’d be that bad at it?”
He finally meets my eyes. “I barely tolerate anyone looking at you clothed. Dancing? Fuck no. There’d be a trail of dead bodies from Crystal Ball to the highway.”
“You’re crazy.”
He pulls me tight against his body and squeezes my butt. “This is what you signed up for, beautiful. I rein it in every day.” He leans down and brushes his lips over mine. “But you should know it’s a struggle not to follow you to school or work and scare away every guy you see.”
“That’s so sweet in a totally terrifying way.”
He barely cracks a smile.
That’s okay, I have an admission of my own. “I wanted to whack that girl with one of her stripper shoes when she said your name.”
Instead of laughing, he frowns. “I told you—”
“I still didn’t like your name coming out of her mouth.” I poke him in the chest. “We’re two psychos in love, you and me.”
Now I finally get some laughter out of him. He grabs me by the hips and spins me around. I perform a weak imitation of a sexy dance with extra special attention on grinding my ass against him.
“Fuck,” he rasps. “This is dangerous.”
“What’s wrong?”
He grabs my ponytail, tugging my head back while squeezing my hip. “Just like this. When I get home, I’ll text you. Come meet me in the garage.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Come here.” He releases me, and I turn. Desire dances in his eyes, and he takes my hands. “How am I supposed to get through the rest of the night?”
“Just think of me waiting for you.”
The teasing smile on his lips fade. “You get me through everything, Heidi.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “More than just midnight garage sex. You know that, right?”
I tap my finger against his chest. “I do. Otherwise, there’d be no midnight garage sex.”
He pops my ass once. “All right, if you don’t go now, I’m not gonna let you leave.”
At my car door, he stops. “Call me when you get home. Let me say goodnight to Alexa.”
“I can do that.” I glance at my phone. “Shit, it’s late. She might be out already.”
“Go.” He nudges me into the car. “Drive carefully.”
I give him one final kiss. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
Eleven
Murphy
It’s after midnight when I finally leave Furious. As much as I’d been looking forward to meeting Heidi in the garage, I don’t have the heart to call when I know she’s probably asleep and needs to be up early.
“We need to hire someone else, brother,” I say to Wrath. “Can’t keep doing these late nights.”
“These longer hours are stretching us thin. We’ll have to sit down and talk about giving Dylan more responsibilities.” Guess Wrath’s mellowed out since earlier. He flashes a maniacal grin. “Besides, you’ll be busy with all your new VP duties soon.”
That’s something I hadn’t considered. Unless we’re on a run, Road Captain responsibilities I can pretty much handle whenever the fuck I feel like it. Servicing the club’s vehicles and mapping out any club trips can be done on my schedule.
Vice President is totally different. Rock mentioned I’d have to be more visible in Empire. Keep up the illusion that we’re nothing more than a bunch of bikers who wouldn’t dare run a criminal enterprise and all that.
What Rock conveniently didn’t mention is that I’ll also have more responsibility over the rest of my brothers. They’ll bring any issues they have to me first.
I’ll also have the pleasure of making sure the other officers are doing their jobs—which, yeah, I’m sure Wrath will be a joy to deal with.
And hell help me if Rock’s away for any reason, I’ll have to assume his role as well.
“Thanks for the reminder.”
Wrath’s eyes widen in fake surprise. “Figured you’d be dying to rise in rank above Teller.”
“Not at all.” Even though I think he’s fucking with me, his comment makes me wonder. “Why would you say that?”
He shrugs. “And that’s why you’re the right man for the job.”
All the pep talks from everyone are getting old, so I say good night, straddle my bike, and head home.
Bright lights almost blind me as they pull out of the parking lot a few doors down from ours. Fucker.
Usually a cool night ride settles my mind. The rumble of my engine and whistle of the wind puts everything into perspective.
Not tonight.
The voices in my head won’t stop yapping.
I roll the throttle, praying more speed will drown them out. No such luck.
A couple miles outside the Empire city limits, I shift my gaze and realize the car that’s been on my ass since I left Furious is still there.
This part of suburbia doesn’t have a lot of traffic at this hour. But it’s not unusual to encounter the occasional car.
One riding my ass this hard almost never happens.
There’s no other lane to pull into, so I tap the brakes a few times. He backs off, but he’s still too close for my comfort.
I speed up, and he speeds up.
This motherfucker.
Still, I keep cool. With the blinding glare from his headlights, I can only tell it’s a sedan, not much else.
First thing you learn as a rider—no matter how much of a fearless motherfucker you are, if a car and motorcycle go head-to-head, the car’s going to win. It’s simple physics.
So even though my preference would be to turn and put a bullet through his windshield, my goal is to
avoid impact at all costs.
Miles go by, and he doesn’t turn off anywhere. Suburbia turns rural, and the car’s still there. No way this clown just happens to be headed my way.
I should’ve stopped earlier to confront him.
Teller and the other guys busted my balls for buying the tricked-out Road Glide before our trip to San Antonio earlier in the year. I almost never use its integrated Bluetooth system. Riding takes enough concentration. No need to add distractions.
Now, I’m glad I have it, and I happily ask my phone to call “speed dial two.”
Teller answers, cranky and out of breath. “This better be good.”
“I’ve had some asshole tailing me since Empire.”
“Fuck, I can barely hear you. Where are you?”
“Not far from your place.”
“I’m on my way.”
The line goes dead.
Not much of a plan, but I have faith in Teller. He’ll either be waiting at the end of his driveway with a shotgun, or he’ll come find me. With the shotgun, of course.
I keep moving at a slower clip, giving Teller time to take a piss or whatever he has to do before leaving the house.
Maybe a couple hundred feet from Teller’s driveway, there’s a pull-off. I flick my blinker on and slow the bike.
The car slows with me.
Show time, motherfucker.
I make a lazy turn in the dirt and end up facing the car. Still can’t make out what it is, other than some low-to-the-ground import.
We sit there staring at each other. Sure, I’m still vulnerable if he decides to stomp on the gas, but at least I’ve gained control of the situation.
Five minutes later, the roar of Teller’s monster-truck engine has the corners of my mouth twitching.
He pulls up behind me. The light bar on his truck illuminates the area like a glorious neon sunrise.
Whoever’s behind the wheel of the car must finally realize the error of his ways. He reverses quickly, spins around, and takes off the way we came in a cloud of dust.
The car’s been modified enough that I can’t figure out the make in the brief window of time. The plates are blacked out, so that’s no help. Doesn’t matter. He’s gone. More importantly, I didn’t lead whoever it was to the clubhouse.
White Lies Page 7
