Asher

by Piper Davenport

  “Now’s not the time to fuck with me, Addison. I’ll follow you there,” Jake said, closing her car door.

  There was a commotion at the front door of the strip club. Bikers started emerging.

  “Go,” Jake said, hurrying toward his car.

  Addison’s eyes grew round as the angry mob of bikers set their sights on us. She slid her car into gear and peeled out of the parking lot, heading for the freeway. Traffic heading into Portland was a lot lighter than traffic heading away, so I watched behind us as Addison wove through cars and put distance between us and the club.

  “You see any of them?” she asked.

  There were no motorcycles in sight. “Nope.”

  “Your brother is keeping up, though.” Knowing Asher was behind us made me feel better. “I don’t see Jake’s car.”

  “Good.”

  The adrenaline that had been coursing through my veins since we parked in front of the Pink Fox started fading, leaving me worn and weary. As we exited the freeway, I stopped watching behind us and relaxed in my seat.

  Addison, on the other hand, seemed to grow even more keyed up as she drove. “Can you believe the nerve of Jake?” she asked. “If he thinks he’s going to come to my house and ride my ass for doing my job, he’s got another think coming. You know what Jake is?”

  “Concerned about your safety?” I suggested.

  “A hypocrite. He puts his life on the line every day for his job. All I did was a little pole dancing. Which, I might add, is excellent exercise.”

  “You were basically working out,” I agreed. Sometimes agreeing was all I could do. Addison processed externally, and she needed to get her emotions out before she exploded. It was better that she processed by ranting to me, rather than by verbally sparring with Jake.

  “Exactly.”

  “Only we were shot at,” I pointed out.

  “Whose side are you on?” she asked.

  Holding up my hands in defense, I replied, “Yours. Always yours. But, let’s never do this again, okay?”

  “It’s not like we knew it was a biker bar and that Candy...” Addison’s expression softened. “Oh, God. Do you think they killed Candy?”

  I shrugged. I’d been trying not to think about Candy in the back of that van because she’d been so warm and welcoming to us. “I don’t know, but I can’t imagine why they would. If she’s a stripper at a club owned by the Spiders, it seems a lot more beneficial to keep her alive.”

  “To use her?” Addison asked.

  I didn’t want to think about that, let alone talk about it, so I bit my lip and checked behind us again.

  “That’s worse than death,” Addison said, and I silently agreed.

  We spent the rest of the drive in silence, as I tried not to think about what could be happening to Candy. By the time we parked and headed up to the condo, we were both morose as hell.

  Asher followed us up. “What the hell happened?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

  Addison marched into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine and three glasses.

  “We might want to wait until Jake gets here to go over that. He’s going to want to hear it all,” I replied.

  “Did anything happen that your attorney wouldn’t want you to confess to a police officer?” Asher asked.

  I hugged him, grateful for the sentiment. “See, Addie? He still has our backs.”

  “If he really had our backs, he would have come alone rather than calling in the PoPo.” She poured us each a glass of wine.

  “Jake and I have an understanding.” Asher sipped from his glass. “We figure it’ll take both of us to keep you two alive and safe, so we made a pact not to keep shit like this from each other. It’s bro-code, sis.”

  “What about sis-code?” she asked, eyeing him.

  “That’s not a thing.”

  “Well, it should be,” she snapped.

  Asher set his glass down and grabbed my hand. “Table it, Addie. I need to talk to Dylan alone for a moment.”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but he tugged me through the living room and into my bedroom, closing the door behind us. Before I could ask him what was going on, he released my hand and trapped me between his body and the door. His lips landed on mine as his hands snaked around to my back pressing me against him. His tongue plunged into my mouth in an almost desperate claiming that wiped all thoughts and words from my mind.

  When he finally let me up for air, we were both gasping for breath. Leaning his forehead against mine, he kept me tightly tucked in the safety of his body.

  “You okay?” I asked when I could form the words.

  “Better. now that I know you are. I’m sorry, Dylan.”

  Confused, I pulled away so I could look him in the eyes. “Sorry for what?”

  “Ethan. The job. I know how Addie can get and I never should have referred—”

  “Whoa.” I pushed him away. “Stop right there. This is a new business and we have a few kinks to work out, but referring us to your friend was a good move, Ash. It showed that you had faith in us.”

  “And you were shot at. Again. I know you and Addie like the whole detective thing, but maybe this job just isn’t right for the two of you.”

  My chest squeezed. Fighting for breath, I stepped around him and moved away. “It was a hiccup. We’ll discuss it and figure out the best way to proceed.”

  “Or, you can quit.”

  Shocked, I stared at him, silently willing him to recant that nonsense.

  “There’s no shame in admitting when something isn’t working, Dylan.”

  “Isn’t working? This is our first job.”

  “But the third time you’ve almost gotten yourself killed while sleuthing.”

  “And the second case we’ve solved,” I replied. “I got video footage, and Greg the cheater is going down.”

  “At what cost?” he fired back. “Addison turned into a stripper, you were both shot at, and you pretty much started a riot at a strip club.”

  “None of which was technically our fault.”

  He stared at me, folding his arms across his chest. “All of which stemmed from one poor decision after the next.”

  “What was I supposed to do? Let her go into that club alone? Don’t patronize me, Asher.”

  “She wouldn’t have gone in without you. Maybe you should have called her bluff.”

  “That’s really easy for you to say, now. Hindsight is a great tool.”

  “Jake and I are putting you two on lockdown.”

  Certain I must have misheard him, I shook my head. “Come again?”

  He dropped his arms. “Look, we don’t want to do this, but you and Addie have given us no choice. It’s not even us, really. It’s Dad. He can’t have the two of you—”

  I couldn’t hear anymore of his nonsense. Holding up my hand, I stormed past him, opening the door to head into the living room. I needed backup. Or at least a weapon.

  * * *

  Addison

  Asher whisked Dylan into her room, no doubt to make out or something, leaving me alone to think about how hot Jake looked, storming across the bar toward me. Hot and incredibly pissed off. I sighed. I was all for my man being alpha and shit, but not if it meant I became the kept woman. I refused to be my mother.

  My doorbell pealed, and still undecided about whether or not I was going to let him in, I made no move to open it.

  “Open up, Addison. I know you’re in there.”

  When I still didn’t answer, he sent me a text. Open your door.

  I set my wine glass aside and slowly meandered toward the door, pulling it open with a forced smile.

  “Did you check the peephole?” Jake demanded, pushing inside.

  “Um, you just texted and told me you were here.” I conveniently left out the part where I’d heard his voice first. No need to let him know I’d made him wait.

  “What if someone got hold of my phone and used it to get to you?”

  I crossed my arms and
frowned. “For your information, my building has a pretty badass guard and no one else would have been able to get to me.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Yeah, it kind of is the point. What are you doing here, Jake?” I asked. “Are you here to yell at me or fuck me. Because I’m not really interested in the former.”

  “I’m here to inform you and Dylan that you’re both locked down.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “That stunt you pulled tonight—”

  “My job. The job I was hired to do for money,” I corrected.

  “Babe, you have money. You don’t need to take your clothes off for it.”

  I wasn’t going to dignify that remark with a response. Although, I did snap, “You’re being a dick.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes,” I hissed.

  “Am I getting your attention?” he snarled.

  “Oh my god, Jake, you don’t have to be a dick to get my attention.” I crossed my arms. “I’m also a grown woman and you have no right to speak to me like I’m an errant child.”

  “That stunt got you on the radar of the Spiders, Addison.”

  “So?”

  Before Jake could answer, Dylan came storming out of her bedroom. “Addison!” she bellowed.

  “Out here,” I called.

  “I need your gun.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I’m going to kill your brother.”

  “Maybe stow that kind of talk in front of the detective,” Jake suggested.

  “Oh, I’ll make sure you go first, buddy,” she warned. “Considering, you’re the one who cooked up this cockamamie plan.”

  “Let’s not be so dramatic, huh?” Asher said, strolling out of Dylan’s room, his hands in his pockets as he joined us.

  “Wait,” I said. “Back up. Explain what the hell is going on, or Dylan won’t need to murder either of you...I’ll do it for her.”

  “Your father—”

  “My father?” I squeaked, and Dylan nodded.

  “Yes. Your father has ordered us to be locked up until this motorcycle gang no longer wants to kill us.”

  “Not locked up,” Jake corrected. “Locked down, until the heat dies down.”

  “He told you this?” I asked.

  “Order came from the commissioner.”

  “You shouldn’t be surprised,” Asher said. “You know Dad’s not going to let anything happen to you.”

  “Why does he even know about any of this?” I aimed this question at Jake, narrowing my eyes and studying his reaction. He didn’t even flinch.

  “I told him,” Asher admitted.

  “Why?” Dylan and I snapped at the same time.

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you walked into a strip club owned by a notorious MC and snooped in places you shouldn’t have snooped.”

  “Or, it could be because you took your fuckin’ clothes off in front of a shit ton of degenerates and their friends.”

  That last part was from Jake and I could tell he was trying exceptionally hard not to yell.

  I glared at my brother. “Did you tell Dad that I stripped?”

  “Of course I didn’t tell him that, Addie. I just told him you were investigating something and saw something you weren’t supposed to see. He didn’t ask anything further. By the way, what did the two of you see?”

  “Shit. Candy.” Dylan expelled the air from her lungs and collapsed on the sofa. “Addie, we need to tell them. We don’t even know if she’s alive.”

  Nodding my agreement, I sat beside her and launched into the story about the bikers behind the Pink Fox. Jake took a seat and removed a pen and notepad from his jacket pocket and started taking notes. Asher paced as he listened. When I finished, we all sat quietly, digesting the information.

  “You both said you heard a scream. Was Candy moving at all?” Jake asked.

  “No,” Dylan replied. “By the time I opened the door, she was basically a rag doll in their arms, and they were loading her into the van.”

  “What about before she went outside?” Jake asked. “Did she say anything about meeting anyone?”

  I leaned forward. “I was going onto the stage as she was coming off, so I didn’t talk to her.”

  He looked to Dylan.

  “I was busy videotaping Addie and Greg. I didn’t even see Candy come off the stage.”

  Jake jotted down Candy’s description, an approximate time, and asked us about any other possible witnesses.

  “The Spiders saw you two,” Asher said. He stopped pacing long enough to watch us.

  “Of course they did,” I replied. “I was on stage.”

  “No, the two who were loading Candy. You’re witnesses to a probable crime.” His gaze cut to Jake.

  “Fuck,” Jake replied, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  “What?” I asked, turning toward Dylan, but her expression mirrored my confusion.

  “Shit!” Jake stood, throwing his head back.

  “What?” I repeated. “Will you please tell me what the hell is going on?”

  “No witnesses against the Spiders have ever made it to court,” Asher said, glancing from me to Dylan. “Something always happens to them.”

  “By something, you mean death, don’t you?” Dylan asked, the color draining from her face. “They die before they can take the stand.”

  He nodded. “For the most part. Some disappear and never resurface.”

  “Well, we just need to be extra careful,” I said. “We can work from here for a while. It’s not like anyone knows our real name.”

  “Radar, Addison,” Jake said. “They will find out your real name.”

  “Regardless.” I glared at my brother. “You had no right to tell Dad anything, Ash.”

  Asher shrugged, which just pissed me off, but I’d deal with my brother later. I had a bigger issue with Jake. “Let’s go talk.”

  I led him back to my bedroom and closed the door behind us.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “For which part?”

  “The stripping part. Believe me when I say, that was not planned, and the only reason I went on that stage was so Dylan didn’t have to.”

  “We’ll loop back to you taking your clothes off and showing your body to degenerates in a minute.”

  “Okay.” I waved a finger at him. “This tone, the one that makes me think I’m talking to my dad, is not working for me.”

  He sighed, dragging his hands down his face. “I’m pissed, Addison, and I’m trying not to tie you to the fucking bed until you stop doing this shit.”

  Him tying me to the bed had promise, but instead of acknowledging that fact, I crossed my arms and forced down a shiver. “You mean, my job?”

  “The job that might get you killed.”

  “Jake, I—”

  “Wait,” he interrupted. “I realize it’s not fair for me to try to put limitations on what you choose to do in your life.”

  I relaxed, my guardedness leaving me. “Thank you.”

  “That being said, I can’t...” He cleared his throat, “I can’t worry about you jumping in and out of dangerous situations.”

  “Then don’t, honey. Dylan and I have everything under control.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not what I mean.”

  I frowned, confused. “Well, what do you mean?”

  “This isn’t going to work, Addison. I’m sorry.”

  “What isn’t going to work?” I asked, but my stomach started to roil with the realization I was pretty sure what he was saying.

  “This.”

  “Are...are you breaking up with me?”

  “I will continue to work the Spiders situation, you can be sure of that.” His face gave away nothing. No emotion, nothing. I searched his eyes and saw sadness there, but I could have been projecting.

  “But...?”

  “I’m sorry, Addison. I really wish the best for you.” He sidled around me and pulled open the
door, glancing back at me. “Sorry.”

  He walked out my bedroom door and I stood frozen to the spot, not entirely sure I knew what had just happened.

  Dylan

  I HAD JUST closed myself in my room when my cell phone rang. I snagged it off the nightstand and checked the display. Dad. I couldn’t deal with him right now. Jake and Addison had broken up and my possibility of a future with Asher was looking grim. Addison and I had finished off a bottle of wine and a pint of ice cream, and now I felt worse, not better.

  Deciding I might as well go for broke, I accepted the call. “Hey, Dad.”

  When my dad was sober he was a decent guy, but he was rarely sober.

  “Hey princess.” He didn’t slur his words, but that didn’t mean anything. Dad put the ‘F’ in functional alcoholic. “How’s the new business going?”

  “Good. Addie and I closed our first case today.”

  The one whiff of potpourri in this otherwise shitty day came somewhere between Jake’s hasty exit, Asher’s announcement that he’d talk to us when he cooled off, and our ice cream and wine binge. We uploaded the video footage from the club and sent the link to Ethan, who in turn contacted Greg the cheater. I don’t know if it was the mention of video evidence or the sight of the biker revolt, but Greg had been scared straight. He made promises to go to marriage counseling and call it quits with his home-wrecking coworker and his strip club attraction.

  Addison and I both had our doubts that Greg had changed his cheating ways, but we’d done our job and were getting paid, so we’d washed our hands of that mess.

  “I’m not surprised,” he replied. “I bet you two have everything you need up there to do your job. Those Allens are handed everything on a goddamn silver platter, after all.”

  Dad had never been a fan of my friendship with Addison, and I shuddered to think of what he’d say if he knew about my and Asher’s pending relationship status. He didn’t trust rich people, and he wanted nothing more than for me to pack my bags, say good-bye to city life, and return to the town I’d grown up in. I couldn’t understand why Dad would want me to move back, when we could barely maintain civil tones for a five-minute phone conversation.

  And I wasn’t going to let him throw backhanded compliments at the Allens. “Their platters are actually platinum, Dad. Silver’s not worth much anymore.”