by A. J. Macey
“You’re definitely not what I expected,” he complimented. At least, I think it was a compliment… fuck it, that’s how I’m taking it.
“Good.” I smiled, pulling my hand back to cross my arms once more. My movement shifted his attention back to my body.
“And I certainly didn’t expect this underneath that hideous outfit you wore on Friday.” His voice was thick with desire as he leisurely undressed me with his eyes once more. Seductively biting my lower lip, my greedy pussy throbbed at the sexual waves pouring off him, our banter only having fueled the fire.
“I’ve certainly got a lot more going on,” I taunted, “if you think you’re good enough to see it.” His predatory smile zeroed in on my face after having stared at my breasts while I talked. Clearly a boob guy, I noted, good to know.
“Oh baby, I’m more than good,” he uttered in a sinfully smooth tone, the sound melting me even further. “Want to take me for a test drive?” He cocked a brow, wrapping his hands around my waist so he could pull me toward him close enough that I could feel his breath on my face.
“Boss.” Nate’s booming voice cut through the little bubble of craving we had created, interrupting what I was about to say. Which was a big resounding fuck yes with an extra cherry on top. “We have news from our contact.” Nate’s eyes briefly flickered between us, curiosity brimming. Knowing him, he’d tell Abby later and I would get an earful of snark and sass about moving in on the MC president. Brooks didn’t respond, but his jaw was clenched as he slipped off the bench, his eyes never leaving my face. I hadn’t moved back when he shifted forward, so my breasts brushed against his t-shirt and leather cut only adding fuel to the intense desire that flared in his glacier eyes.
“I’ll be right there,” he muttered not taking his eyes off of me. Nate nodded before heading back to the clubhouse. “As for you, baby, go get the details from Garrett about the job.” Leaning down, his beard tickled my cheek as he whispered in my ear. “Don’t maim or kill Warden. Also, our conversation is far from over; keep that in mind next time I get you alone.” Before I could respond he strode away confidently, his riding boots thudding rhythmically on the sidewalk.
Fuck me, I internally groaned. My pussy was dripping down my bare leg and soaking into the fabric of my dark pants. I need to fuck someone, and soon. This lady boner makes it a tad bit difficult to walk.
Taking a few deep breaths so I wouldn’t jump Garrett when I got to him, I followed Brooks’ path back toward the compound’s main building. I kept my head high as I entered the bar and found Garrett and Chase alone. Both seated at the bar sipping the same alcohol I had pulled from the shelf earlier. My previous anger simmered in the background mixing with my lustful haze as I stared at my attractive stepbrother. Damn him, I growled, why did he have to be such as ass? Closing the distance between us, I snatched the lowball from his hand right before he could take another drink. Downing the whole thing in one gulp, I set the glass on the bar top and stared at Garrett, my left hand resting against the lacquered surface.
“What are the details of the retrieval?”
“The warehouse is off Coney Island Drive in Sparks, right by the Truckee River and Glendale Park,” Garrett answered, barely keeping his irritation at bay as he poured another drink. “The next pick-up of their merchandise is supposed to be next Thursday, the second, so the auction can happen next Friday.”
“So we have eleven days until the merch move,” I muttered to myself, mentally tallying the to-do’s I would need to get done beforehand including how I was going to fix the massive shitshow my theft from Harbold’s office turned into. I couldn’t move against Frankie until I had those files.
“Need to case the warehouse and surrounding area,” Chase chimed in from behind me, his head bobbing in buoyant agreement as he created his own to-do list.
“List of security precautions, guard rotations, any restraints or drugs keeping the girls,” I added, glancing over my shoulder at him. “Need blueprints of the warehouse first and foremost as well as information on the previous auctions. Who are the typical buyers, how much they go for, any outside associates that assist with the move or auction.”
“Why would you need to know that?” Garrett asked. For once his question was genuine and not filled with snark.
“The higher the price, the more security precautions. The more outside people assisting, the more openings for infiltration,” I explained, my mind still tallying things I had to get done. “We’re going to need help,” I murmured to Chase quietly. “It’s too big of a risk to go it alone.” He nodded, eyes flicking to Garrett before they lit up with an idea.
“Why don’t we have Garrett, Stone, and Brooks help? They would know the Alloy Kings better than anyone.” Chase was giddy at the idea; he loved seeing how others worked. He was like a preschooler making friends out on the playground. “How ‘bout it, Gar? Want to make it up to our kittycat after your screw-up?” My attention flickered back to the man in question. His face was red in anger, but his eyes held the tiniest amount of guilt. God damn, angry looked sexy on him.
“Stop throwing that shit in my face,” he grumbled, his tattooed hand running down his face as he spoke. “Yeah, I’ll see what I can dig up for you. Stone will probably be able to figure out security and their rotations since he’s got the background in that shit.”
“Good”—I leaned into Garrett letting the full force of my anger with him fill me—”but don’t think that will get you out of helping me with getting Harbold’s files. You owe me.” I stabbed him in the chest with a pointed finger. He glared at me, staying silent. Stepping back I tilted my head toward the door. “Come on, my little assassin, we have work to do.” Lucky for them, my middle name is work.
Brooks
Passing a fuming Garrett and the assassin, Nate led me back to our main office toward the back of the building. Stone was standing with his arms crossed in front of his broad chest at the other end of the small room. His scowl was deeper than normal, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the feisty thief outside or the information he had learned about our shipment.
“So, what’s the news?” I questioned when nobody spoke. Nate stroked his beard lightly, a grimace passing over his face before he responded.
“We have a snitch,” he said, his voice grave.“Within the club.” My blood turned from burning with desire about Kiera to ice, the severity of his statement washing over me.
“Who?” I barked out, my hands curling into tight fists. Nate shook his head signifying he didn’t know.
“We don’t think it’s one of the patch holders. I’ll be watching the prospects and the Old Ladies. They seem the most likely to have gotten ahold of club information,” Stone bit out, his voice frosty matching the ice pumping through me.
“Good.” I nodded rubbing my eyes. “Fucking Alloy Kings,” I muttered to myself as the door opened. Garrett stepped into the room, his anger tucked away as he turned to us.
“Kiera will take the job,” he offered quietly. “She needs our help.”
Stone scoffed. “We have other shit to do than help the thief who’s supposed to be the best,” he sneered glaring at Garrett who now looked about ready to punch someone.
“Do you want Kevin’s Old Lady back or not?” Garrett snapped. “Cause Kiera’s the one who can make it happen, but I agree with her that it’s too risky for her and Chase to take it on by themselves with the timeline they have to work with.”
“I always knew she was into something shady, but I never would have put two and two together that she was The Cat,” Nate added thoughtfully. “She and Abby are usually out for an hour or two every so often, wonder if she knew.”
“Probably. Kiera and Abby have been inseparable since before any of us came into the picture,” Garrett pointed out. “Kiera used to steal food and clothing for Abby when her dad gambled their money away, you know.” I felt my eyebrows raise. I knew Abby had a shitty upbringing, as did most of us, but I didn’t realize Kiera was her saving grace. Nate nod
ded.
“Yeah, Abby told me she helped a lot, but I didn’t realize it was that way. I’ll have to thank her next time I see her.” Garrett chuckled, which was odd since he rarely ever laughed or even smiled. He has it bad for Kiera.
“She’ll probably look at you like you grew a second head if you did that, so I advise against it,” Garrett offered. “Her pride’s bigger than this whole compound.”
“Her attitude too,” Stone said ruefully. He really didn’t seem to like Kiera, his surly attitude growing with each statement about the thief. “What does she need?”
Garrett outlined what Kiera had brought up about what we could work on in the meantime, making sure to tell us that when she had a better plan on what needs to be done, she’ll come to us.
“All right.” I rubbed my scruffy jaw. “Stone, go look into what security shit Kiera needs, and keep an eye on those potential snitches. Nate, get in contact with our guy and schedule another shipment pick-up, we need that to pass it on to our dealers. Garrett, you’re with me on getting all the shit Kiera needs to get Kev’s Lady back.” We separated to work on our tasks, the threat of the Alloy Kings hanging over all of us.
Chapter 4
April 22nd
Monday Early Afternoon
Kiera
My fake work boots thudded on the drive as I wheeled the empty dolly to the rental truck. Loading up the empty boxes onto the metal contraption, I wiped the sweat off my forehead and adjusted the baseball hat that I had stuffed my hair into. This stupid work jumpsuit was hotter than Satan’s ballsack and pretending to move these boxes so I could discreetly watch the warehouse where the girls were being held made me sweat up a fucking storm. I hate these kinds of case jobs; give me a shitty coffee shop any day over pretending to be a stupid shipping worker.
After a few more minutes, the last of the fake boxes were unloaded into the rented storage unit which conveniently faced the warehouse that was across the small patch of grass separating the two structures. Climbing into the truck, I returned it to its rental place and hopped onto my bike, too lazy to change out of my disguise. Ten minutes later, I pulled up to the compound’s front gate.
“Can I help you?” The bushy-bearded, bald guy manning the gate gruffed out the question as he eyed my work outfit with a frown.
“I’m here to see Brooks,” I sighed. I just wanted to get into the air conditioning, not sit here and bake while I waited for the gate nanny to approve me to enter their precious compound. He pulled out his cell and hit one of the buttons, pressing the plastic device to his ear. I huffed, turning my attention to the compound that stretched out in front of me while he contacted his babysitter. The main road wound in an S-pattern over the small hills, two side streets splitting off close to the entrance. One went to the left and led to a collection of small townhouses or apartments, while the other went to the right and was a turn-in to a parking lot for a seven bay garage where several civilians were getting work done on their cars.
Thankfully, none of them were paying attention to me as the doorman finally got off the phone. He eyed me a few more moments before finally letting me pass. I grumbled the entire five minutes it took me to get to the main clubhouse. Hopping off my bike, I headed inside choosing to ignore the stares my outfit was attracting.
“Oh, thank fucking hell for air conditioning,” I moaned happily under my breath at the cool breeze that graced my sweaty, red face. “I could seriously kiss the inventor of central heating and air.”
“I’ll pretend to be that guy if it’ll get me a kiss, baby,” Brooks’ whiskey-smooth voice sounded from directly behind me. “You certainly have some interesting work outfits. First you’re a geriatric teacher, now you're a butchy plumber. What do I have to do to get you back in your cat burglar outfit? Cause that was sexy as hell.” I chuckled, turning around.
“That would be my normal clothing, and I don’t like wearing this shit, if you must know. I’m usually in shorts, not pants, because if you haven’t noticed, this is the freaking desert and this”—I gestured with a wave toward the dark navy jumpsuit—“is fucking hot.” I couldn’t bring myself to regret my phrasing when Brooks’ smile turned sinful.
“Then take it off,” he whispered. I smirked, feeling myself get wetter with the heat burning in his eyes, but Garrett storming up to us interrupted anything I was about to say.
“Boss.” His harsh voice was filled with warning making me raise a brow at him. He was in his usual attire that matched Brooks’ outfit of jeans, shirt, and cut. His dirty brown hair was finger combed and slightly messy on top of his head. The sides of his hair were cut in a fade while his jaw was covered in a short beard that was a bit longer than scruff, but not as long as Brooks’. His tattooed arms and hands flexed as he saw his boss hovering over me, his harsh scowl centered on me. “What on Earth are you fucking wearing?” I rolled my eyes.
“I was working today, as you lot paid me to do.” I gestured again at my outfit. “This is part of that. You should know that, Garrett, you’ve been around long enough.” I don’t know what came over me, but I flirtatiously backhanded his bicep as I called him out. His eyes dropped to where my hand had smacked him before raising a brow at me, his lips curling into a smug smile. Ugh, asshole.
“Yes, I have been around long enough.” His words were thick with heat as he leaned forward, and his lips brushed against the crest of my ear with his next words. “Long enough to know you’re not wearing any underwear beneath that get-up.” I clenched my jaw at the arrogant smile that he angled at Brooks, whose eyebrows rose. His matching cocky grin focused on me, and I suddenly felt like a piece of meat in the middle of a cockfight.
“Fuck off, both of you.” I pulled away, growling. “I’m not a prize to be won. If I want to fuck either of you, I will. So quit with the pissing contest, I don’t like golden showers.”
“Noted, baby.” Brooks’ smile made it obvious he was talking about the dislike of being peed on, not the rest of what I said. I rolled my eyes and walked away, heading straight for the bar. I need a fucking drink.
“No one came or went from the building during lunch hours, so either they eat within the building or they have electronic monitoring.” I slid into the wooden stool, taking my hat off and let down my waves that had been sweatily plastered to my head all day. “Fuck, I need a shower.”
“Did you get a count to how many people they had working?” Brooks questioned, sitting next to me.
“No, when I say there was no one, I literally mean no one.” Angling on the stool, my knees brushed against his rough denim legs. I propped my head on my fist as I responded. “I was the only one around other than the one person working the front desk at the storage place.” Slouching down in exhaustion, I ended up leaning into Garrett who had slipped behind me. His right hand braced on the counter next to me, fingers brushing against my elbow ever so lightly that I thought I was imagining it.
“Sorry,” I muttered, leaning forward. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you looked at it, Garrett followed. His muscled torso pressed into my back, making my heart beat erratically. Despite the heat coursing through me being between the two of them, my anger flared to life at the audacity of my stepbrother.
“We got the blueprints.” Brooks pulled my attention back to him before I could snap at Garrett. “Stone’s working on getting a security layout for you.” I nodded, mentally checking off several of the items on my to-do list.
“Chase is in contact with some of his old buddies getting information on the auction, should hopefully know by Wednesday at the latest.” I dropped my hand from under my chin before continuing. “I’ll take the blueprints with me so I can work through routes and plans. When I have that all figured out, I’ll bring them back.”
“Actually.” Brooks leaned forward, only this time his reasoning wasn’t to hit on me. “Keep them away from here and don’t talk to anyone outside of the three of us here at the club.” I felt my heart sputter painfully, there was something going on here a
t the club.
“You have a rat,” I surmised, my words whispered. Both Brooks’ and Garrett’s clenched jaws gave me all I needed. “You got it, boys.” Garrett huffed a single laugh while Brooks smiled at me.
“Come on, I’ll show you where they are.” Brooks did his head tilt thing toward the hallways. I slid off the stool and started to follow, when Garrett grabbed my arm.
“You heading straight home after this?”
I scrunched up my eyes at him. “Why?” I dragged out the word, not in the mood to deal with his overprotective possessiveness.
“I need to know when you want to work on Harbold’s files,” he ground out, his jaw clamping shut. His shoulders were tensed, and he looked severely uncomfortable with having to offer up his help. Smirking, I patted his cheek.
“I’ll let you know when I need you, bitch boy.” He snarled at me before yanking out of my reach.
“Fuck you, Kiera. See if I’ll help you in the future.” He turned to storm away, only stopping when I snapped at him.
“Damn right you’ll fucking help me. You cost me precious time on my final move against that fat fuck, so suck it up, Garrett, and be ready to jump when I say so.” I whipped around, following a snickering Brooks down the hall, Garrett’s grumbling inaudible due to the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. Fucking asshole.
Brooks led me to one of the last rooms in the dingy hall, a small space holding a dented metal desk, a couple of stained chairs, and one file cabinet sat in the corner. The walls were a discolored yellow, as if someone had smoked in here for years, and there was a giant, boot-sized hole in the wall. There were several rolls of paper lying on the desk, held closed by rubber bands.
“I’ll hold off on looking through these till I’m at my house,” I advised Brooks, bundling up the pile of papers, my eyes counting the number of rolls I had so I wouldn’t misplace or lose one.
