by Brook Wilder
Gone, just like that.
I never got to say goodbye or even apologize for ruining our relationship. Now I carried the weight of her death on my shoulders, hoping one day I could screw over the cartel and make them pay for what they had done to her.
That day was drawing closer, and with each Azteca commander I killed, I relished in the taste of victory.
It’s what I did.
“So, figured you would hide out here?”
Rivet stood on the step above me, the swell of her belly sticking out. “God, you’re huge.”
She grinned and sat down next to me, wiping her hands on her jeans. “Fuck you, Crankshaft.”
I shared her grin, knowing any other person would take offense to my direct words.
Rivet never did. She had really opened up since her own capture with the Aztecas a few months ago and subsequent reunion with Ironsides. Now they had a kid on the way, and deep down, I was happy for them.
They both deserved some happiness in their lives. “I’m surprised you are still talking to me.”
She gave a shrug. “Why wouldn’t I? You are out there killing all those assholes who made my life miserable for six months. Some might not agree, but I say kill them all.”
“A woman after my own heart,” I chuckled.
“I saw what you did in there. There is some good in you after all.”
“Don’t think too much into it,” I warned her, Sabrina’s words spinning around in my mind. “I brought her here. She’s my responsibility.”
“Yeah, okay,” Rivet laughed. “And the look you gave her was purely platonic, right?”
“Purely.”
Rivet socked me on the shoulder lightly. “Come on, Crankshaft. All the other guys are getting women to take care of them. You need someone to take care of you. I can’t worry about you forever.”
Her words touched me, they really did. I opened my mouth to say something snarky back to her but was interrupted by someone touching my shoulder.
“Crankshaft, I’ve been thinking. Get Gun Jesus involved in this. I bet he could find that accountant.”
I sighed as I stood, facing Widow Maker. “He’s probably drunk off his ass right now, but I will find him.” Gun Jesus was the club’s personal weapons expert, who recently helped us secure the guns to fight off the cartel and make friends with the FBI along the way.
She gave me a tight nod. “I also put Sabrina up in your space. Surely you don’t mind.”
“Shit,” I swore, running a hand through my hair roughly. “Why would you do that?” My rooms at the club were my way of not putting down any roots. I kept my stake on them secure by offering to be the watchman when I was in town.
But hell, they were small enough already without another person bunking.
“Because,” Widow Maker said, a grin playing on her lips. “You brought her here. She’s your responsibility. What better way to watch over her than to have her share your rooms?”
“Thanks,” I grumbled.
“Just try to be nice for once, will you?”
I wanted to flip her off so badly I could taste it, hating that she was enjoying teasing me. They were all enjoying the fact that I had failed a mission.
“Oh, it won’t be that bad,” Rivet said softly, pushing herself up to a standing position as Widow Maker walked away. “I’ll connect with her. It’s not like they will let me do anything else.”
I didn’t answer, clenching my jaw as I thought about being near Sabrina in such close quarters. It wasn’t that I had an aversion to her. Hell, I was attracted to her just like every other red-blooded male in the room.
The problem was, she reminded me of a time that I didn’t care to be reminded of, and a girl I hadn’t been good enough for.
I needed to remind her I wasn’t the nice guy around here. I killed people for a living, and given the shot, I would have killed her father. That would surely put some walls up between the two of us.
Looking over at Rivet, I ignored her probing gaze. “I’m going after Gun Jesus. I’ll be back.”
“Be careful,” she offered as I walked down the steps before I realized I didn’t have my bike. It was currently in the impound lot at the police station, meaning I would have to wait until morning to even think about bailing it out.
“Fuck me,” I muttered as I continued down the sidewalk, toward the garage where I kept my truck. When would this nightmare ever end?
Chapter 7
Sabrina
I awoke the next morning with a headache, and at first, confusion with my surroundings.
But then, it all came crashing back and I swallowed the emotion in my throat, willing myself not to cry. It hadn’t been a horrible dream. My father really was tied up with the cartel and I was currently staying with a group of bikers who wanted to capture him.
It was like something out of a mystery novel. Or maybe a horror novel.
Wearily, I stood, sliding on my glasses before stripping off the pajamas I had put back on sometime wee hours of this morning when Kristina led me to this room. Now, in the light, I could tell I had taken someone’s bed, someone who smelled suspiciously like the guy who had taken me in the first place.
There were two twin beds in the room, one piled with saddle bags and clean laundry, so I had naturally taken the other bed, the excitement of the last twenty-four hours catching up with me.
At least he hadn’t come in the middle of the night and tried to climb in the bed with me. Now that would have topped off this great adventure I was having!
But looking at the room, it didn’t match the guy who had taken me out of my childhood home. It was clean and neat, with no personal effects on the shelf behind either bed. If there hadn’t been the faint smell of his spicy scent in the air, I would have assumed it was an unoccupied room.
With a sigh, I walked into the small adjoining bathroom, did my duties, and pulled on the clothes Kristina had lent me. My phone was still on the sink where I had left it charging, so I unhooked it from the borrowed charger and touched the place where the SIM card resided. I still had leverage.
Maybe. Unless Kristina decided to kill me for withholding it from her.
My mom, she had finally settled down. I had fired off the promised text message, explaining to her that I had left the house so quickly I didn’t have a chance to let her know. She had informed me of the trouble I had caused with the police, but finally she understood my need to go be with my ‘friend.’
I felt horrible about what I was doing to her, lying about where I was when in truth, I was only about five minutes from my home.
But if it meant that she would stay safe and blissfully unaware of what her husband was involved in, the illegal dealings that could get their entire family killed, then I would do it.
So, it was up to me to make this right. The first thing I needed to do was try and find my father. I could do some digging online, if I had a computer that is.
I bet there was one in this clubhouse.
After making myself presentable, I stepped out into the hallway, the club quiet given the ruckus that had been going on only hours before. Cautiously, I walked out into the common area, where a few people, including Kristina, sat.
“Good morning, Sabrina,” Kristina said, motioning for me to join her. I did so and she reached for a mug from behind the bar, pouring a steaming cup of coffee before handing it to me. “Here. This will get you started.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking the mug. I wasn’t a huge coffee drinker, but I did feel like I needed the boost.
“There’s eggs and toast in the kitchen,” she said as she cupped her own mug, “if you’re hungry. We kind of fend for ourselves around here, but someone always makes sure there’s food for the late risers.”
I took a sip of the inky black liquid, trying not to grimace at the bitter taste.
“Here, put this in it. It will make it passable.”
A pregnant woman slid into the stool next to me, pushing a carafe of what I figured was cream
er.
“Thanks.”
“I’m Rivet,” she said, extending her hand. “And yes, I am pregnant.”
“Sabrina,” I answered, shaking her hand. “How far along?”
A soft smile crossed her face as she looked down at her stomach, patting it lightly. “Nearly five months or so. This is gonna be a little biker given the way it kicks the hell out of me on a daily basis.”
“Not a biker,” Kristina said on the other side. “We don’t need any more kids running around here.”
Rivet laughed. “You’re probably right. There’s a bunch of grown kids anyway. Maybe this one will do something good, like be a doctor or a lawyer.”
I listened to their conversation, surprised at how normal this sounded. How could they act like this and be the ruthless bikers that Castillo knew them to be? It was crazy, really crazy. “Is there a computer I can borrow?”
“For what?” Kristina asked instantly, a hint of distrust in her voice.
I poured some of the creamer in the mug, swirling it around to mix the two liquids together. “I think I know how to find my father.”
“How?” Rivet asked.
“There was a car that night,” I said softly. “One that followed my father after he left the house. I bet the license plate was captured on the video camera.”
“Huh,” Kristina said, sliding off the stool. “Well, let’s see what you can find.”
I grabbed my mug and followed her to a dark room, where Kristina flipped on the light.
“Shit, man! Cut that back off, will you?”
“Crankshaft,” I heard her say, surprise in her voice. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
“Trying to get some sleep. I’ve been out looking for Gun Jesus, and since my damn bed was occupied, I had nowhere else to go.”
I flushed, not sure if I was more embarrassed that I was the person in his bed or the fact that he had walked in to find me there.
“Well, Sabrina needs to use the computer and since you are in here, you can supervise.”
No, no, anyone but him! Kristina turned toward me.
“Here you go. It’s not the best computer, but it’s got WIFI, so feel free to type away. I got club business to attend to.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, stepping into the room. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked around the desk and sat down, booting up the piece of equipment. I wanted to apologize for kicking him out of his bed, but the words wouldn’t form on my tongue.
“What are you planning to do?”
Startled, I looked up to find myself staring into a pair of hard green eyes. Wow. Even with him frowning at me it was hard not to notice his features. His hair was covered by a ball cap turned backwards. There were tiny silver hoops in each ear, and the barest hint of that tattoo licking up his neck, disappearing under a black t-shirt. Dark hairs dusted his jawline and his strong forearms tanned from the Texas sun bulged as they crossed over his massive chest.
He was both terrifying and sexy at the same time.
“I-I’m going to hack into my neighbor’s security camera.”
He arched a brow and a shiver snaked through my body. He was far too good looking to be a kidnapper.
“What?”
I ducked my head and logged into the security camera server, glad I had set it up for them last summer. There had been a rash of car thefts and Mrs. Cornish wanted to catch them in the act. She had asked me to go to the store and set these cameras up for her. I hadn’t realized what the impact of that decision would be until now.
“It’s easy. I have the password to the program. All I have to do is locate the camera and pull the footage.”
He pushed away from his chair, his boots ringing on the bare floor as he peered over my shoulder.
Gah, that smell! It had had lulled me to sleep last night and haunted my dreams.
Though in my dreams, he wasn’t nearly as gorgeous as he was now.
“And then what?”
I located the approximate time my father had left the house, going frame by fame until I saw him pull away. “Now I will locate the car that followed him and pull the plate.” At least I hoped I could. The streetlight should have been enough to illuminate the plate briefly, which was all I needed.
“How do you know to do this?” he asked, his breath tickling the hair right above my ear.
“Computer science major,” I answered, my mouth suddenly dry. “We practice this all the time.”
Sure enough, I located the car, zooming in until the license plate was visible. “There you go,” I said, feeling proud of myself. It was the first step to finding my father and I had single-handedly done it.
“Now what?” he asked as I took a screenshot of the license plate with my phone.
I pulled up the search engine and after a few clicks, found a way into the police database.
“Shit,” he said, something akin to awe in his deep voice. “You just hacked into the police department?”
“Not the police department,” I answered, unable to keep the grin off my face. “But their traffic camera system. I can run the license plates through the traffic cameras and try to match them up. Then we can track their routes.”
Sitting back in the chair, I watched as the search started. “It will take half the day probably.”
“That’s pretty impressive,” he offered as I fiddled with my phone. “We could use someone with your skills in the Rough Jesters.”
I snorted a laugh. Me? Part of a biker club? That was like putting a nun in a strip joint. I was nothing like Kristina or Rivet. I stuck out like a sore thumb.
“It’s all cash,” he added. “No strings attached. You don’t even have to join the Jesters. Gun Jesus hasn’t.”
“Gun Jesus?” I asked with another incredulous snort. “What kind of name is that?”
Crankshaft walked over to the chair across from me and dropped into it, giving me full view of the man who had broken into my parent’s house. “Wait until you see him. You’ll know why we call him that.”
My smile died and I suddenly felt nervous in his presence. Not because I was scared, but… because of how my body reacted to him being so close to me, right in front of me.
He unnerved me.
“You think you can find your father that way?” he asked after a moment, nodding to the computer.
I looked back at the screen, ensuring that it was still searching. “I think it’s the best shot we have.”
He sat forward, clasping his hands loosely between his open legs and I found myself staring his crotch.
I was staring at his crotch.
Blushing, I quickly looked down, hoping he hadn’t noticed. What was wrong with me? I should be terrified. I should have accepted the offer of the police chief and left this place.
I shouldn’t be here.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-one,” I said softly, feeling like I was ten around him. “I turn twenty-two next week.”
He made a sound, but I kept my eyes adverted from him, wishing I was brave enough to ask him the same questions. He didn’t look that old, but I knew he was older than the guys at college.
I was way out of my league with this whole deal.
Crankshaft pushed out of his chair. “Well, the offer still stands for the job. If you can do that shit, I can only imagine what else you can do.”
I glanced at him then, seeing nothing but curiosity on his face. “Thanks, but I don’t think this is the career for me.”
He gave a shrug. “I’ll be back.”
I didn’t release my breath until he was out of the room, slumping in the chair. Sure, I had done something semi-illegal, but I didn’t want to make a career out of it.
Did I?
“That’s ridiculous, Sabrina,” I muttered to myself, looking at the screen in front of me. Of course, I didn’t. I wanted to go back to college, finish my degree, and get a nice desk job in one of the big cities, where I knew what was expected of me day in and day out. I didn’t
want to be dodging the police and bullets, or hanging out with guys like… like him.
Guys who intrigued me.
Was he disappointed I turned down the position? That was also ridiculous. Guys like him didn’t care about girls like me. They liked those who had excitement flowing through their veins, those who could go through life with reckless abandon.
