Chapter 8
Many Forms
Ryan
The moment I noticed Chad and Ivy were gone, I rushed outside. The two of them were chatting next to her car. I thought they would come back to talk to Lark, but then she climbed into her car.
“Shit,” I whispered.
As she drove away, I hurried over to Chad, ignoring my pounding headache.
He heard me approach and turned to me. “Is there a—”
“She was knocked out by those bastards. She isn’t good to drive, man. Give me her address, I’m following her home.”
He aimed an unhappy look at me. “In that case, I’ll follow—”
I shook my head. “Let me. Two of the men are out of commission for now, but that doesn’t put her in the clear. One of them made a phone call, and at least one other person is involved from what I heard. Time’s wasting. Help me out here, I need her address so I can catch up to her.”
He hesitated.
“I’m not going to hurt her.”
His lips quirked and he cocked a brow at me. “Hurt comes in many forms, so make sure you don’t. She lives in Ortega.”
He gave me the name of her townhouse complex and I ran to my bike.
Railroad tracks ran parallel to US 90, and I heard a train whistle in the distance.
It sounded like it was coming from the east. I didn’t want the train to hold me up and I sped toward the crossroad that would get me to I-10.
As I approached Chaffee Road I almost thought I’d lost her.
Luckily, she’d been held up by the train.
Once we were on the Interstate, I let her gain some distance, so she wouldn’t get suspicious. Chad’s words tumbled through my mind. Hurt comes in many forms.
That was true, but he made it sound like she’d been hurt. That irritated me more than it should.
We were almost downtown when she exited onto McDuff Avenue. A car cut me off at the last minute, but I made the light and kept following Ivy. Ten minutes later, we both drove into a small complex of townhouses not far from Highway Seventeen.
She pulled into a narrow drive for the first unit, and I parked my motorcycle behind her car. She threw open her car door and twisted out. “Why did you follow me? We’re free.”
“You need someone around. You probably have a concussion.”
One of her sculpted brows rose. “Not sure if you’re the best candidate since you have one too. I heard how hard they hit you. It had me so worried, I stared at you for a good minute to make sure you were still breathing.”
I resisted the urge to flirt with her, but the fact she stared at me definitely stroked my ego.
“Can you take that magnet off your car before we go inside?”
She nodded. “I normally take them off so they don’t get stuck. Chad has an ex who ran marathons and one of his magnets wouldn’t come off. But seriously, Ryan, we’re free. I can have Chad come over instead.”
I crossed my arms. “We’re free, but I killed two men to do that. They’re gonna find out and they’re gonna come after you.”
She lowered her chin. “But you killed them.”
I didn’t point out that she helped. “They don’t know that, but they do know you were with me. I’m not leaving.”
What went unsaid was that I got her into this. I was going to make sure I got her out of it.
She peeled the magnets off her car and stowed them under the passenger seat. I walked her to the door of her unit, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious.
She led me inside her townhouse. The foyer was wider and longer than I expected with two closets to the left, and a staircase to the right.
I followed her deeper inside. The U-shaped kitchen appeared to be fairly new, and a living room-dining room combo sat just beyond it.
At the far end of the living room, an open doorway provided a glimpse of what appeared to be a master bedroom.
She started toward the kitchen, then stopped, and slowly shook her head. “Well, I’m starving, but it’s been almost a week since I bought groceries. Your choices are a Boston Market frozen dinner or a chicken pot pie.”
“I’m not hungry.”
She gave me a pointed look. “After the day we had, you can’t come to my house and refuse to let me feed you.”
My eyes narrowed. “Why are you so insistent?”
Her eyes widened. “I’m starving, and I’ll feel incredibly rude if I eat and you don’t. It’s almost nine o’clock, you have to be hungry.”
The way my head hurt, I wasn’t sure eating was a good idea. Then again, a full meal might alleviate the persistent ache.
“I don’t want to eat your last frozen meal.”
Her head jerked and those green eyes lit up. “I almost forgot. There’s some left over jambalaya we can have instead.”
That gave me pause. Dad made jambalaya when I was growing up. His was top-notch, and my favorite dish. “Did you make it yourself or is it from a restaurant?”
Her head tilted. “I made it. I’m not a half-bad cook, even if I’m saying so myself,” she said with more sass than I expected.
This was even better than riling up my sister. Not only was it fun, but I found it made Ivy more adorable.
I threw my hands out in surrender. “Jambalaya it is, but you should know, you got big shoes to fill. My dad makes some of the best jambalaya.”
“Great.”
Ivy forked up a bite of andouille sausage, but didn’t put it in her mouth. “I think this is overkill. They aren’t going to come here for me.”
We were seated at her oval dining table, me across from her.
I’d finished eating before her. If there’d been more jambalaya, I’d have had seconds.
It wasn’t quite as spicy as Dad’s, but it was damned good.
I leaned back in my chair. “You’re the first unit at the front of the neighborhood.
You aren’t exactly in the safest position. ”
She smiled. “Which is why I have a gun.”
Given her profession, that didn’t surprise me. “Is it in your purse?”
“No, it’s in a lockbox in—”
“You should get it now, Ivy.”
She chewed her food and swallowed. “I’ll do that before you leave. Surely, you have better places to be. That reminds me, where do you live?”
I swallowed down a chuckle. “Why? Gonna send them my way?”
Her brows drew together and she almost frowned. “No, you followed me home. Fair’s fair in my world.”
“I live at the clubhouse.”
Her eyes widened. “You have that as your address on your license?”
I fought off a grin because that was what my sister said when we moved into the clubhouse – the brothers would never let us give that address. “No, my license still lists an old address.”
She tilted her head. “That’s not too smart.”
I chuckled. “Makes it harder for them to track me.”
“They know where you work.”
“Yeah, but that’s a problem for me and Killian.”
She stood and grabbed my empty plate. “Well, you should be on your way. I’ll be fine.”
A loud buzzer went off near her door. She gasped and fear shrouded her face.
I pressed my lips together, tamping down my anger. The next thing I knew she was at the door, talking into an intercom. “Who is it?”
I hurried up behind her as a garbled male voice said, “ delivery.”
A zing of awareness shot through me when I grabbed her hand before she pressed any more buttons. I lowered my lips toward her ear and whispered, “You got a camera out there?”
She nodded and pulled her phone from her pocket. On the screen a man in a uniform walked away.
“Were you expecting a delivery?”
Her eyes slid to the side. “Probably. I have subscriptions for certain things.”
I didn’t trust this. Something about an delivery this late bugged me. “Humor me. Go get your gun.”
“It’s a package.”
I stared into her jade-green eyes. “It could be a trap.”
She kept staring at me and twisted her pursed lips. “Okay, I’ll humor you.”
She hurried through her dining-living room combo and into her bedroom, then came back with a small handgun.
“I’m going out the side door.” I held out my hand. “Give me your keys. I’ll come in with the package if it’s all clear.”
She went to her purse, plucked out her keys, and handed them to me. “Why do I need my gun if you’re going out there?”
I tucked the keys into my pocket. “In case I’m ambushed and they come in here.”
Her chest rose and she exhaled slowly. “Be careful, Ryan.”
I shrugged off my cut, hung it on a chair, and went out a side door to a small yard.
I crept out through a gate and up the sidewalk.
At my bike, I pulled my gun out of the saddlebag.
Across from her unit, a sports car was parked in a space perpendicular to the street, the engine ticking.
A sedan had been backed into a space next to it and someone was in the driver’s seat – watching Ivy’s building.
As I stared at the windshield, I noticed a light coming from below, then the person looked up and I realized they held a cell phone most likely.
At a regular pace, I walked along the sidewalk and then up the two steps to her door.
I glanced back at the car as casually as I could. The driver had tipped their head down, focused on the phone. I grabbed the box and unlocked the door and I let myself into Ivy’s unit.
She stood in the foyer when I entered. “Just a package, right?”
I quirked my lips. “Is it normal for someone to sit out in their car on their phone at this time of night?’
Her eyes lit and she smiled. “Oh, that’s Mr. Billings. He smokes in his car and scrolls his phone.”
“I don’t care. You need to come with me.”
“I thought you didn’t have a place.”
I grinned. “It isn’t a place someone in your line of work could sell, but I’m taking you to the clubhouse.”
Her head reared back. “Taking me? I can follow you, seeing as I have to work tomorrow.”
A wry laugh escaped me. “That’s funny since most bosses don’t like their employees to be on the job if they have a concussion.”
She narrowed her eyes at me.
I twisted a hand toward what I assumed was her bedroom. “Put your gun in your duffle and let’s go.”
She crossed her arms under her breasts, and my fucking cock took notice. I took a deep breath and willed myself not to get hard.
“Chad doesn’t live that far away. How about you drop me off with him?”
That made sense. Hell, it would probably work out better that way, but her obstinance –no, resistance – drew out something inside me. A strange need to wear her down…and having her in my room wouldn’t hurt either.
I shook my head. “You’d put him in danger like that? Does he have a gun?”
Her silence brought something else to mind.
“You got a problem with bikers?” I asked, grabbing my club cut and putting it on.
Her lips pushed into a pout and she dropped her hands to her hips. “No, I just don’t want to be around Lark. I know I was looking for him, and that none of this makes sense, but I’m guessing he stays at the clubhouse, too. Or he’ll be there.”
I nodded once. “That’s understandable. But no, he has a place closer to the bar, and is only at the clubhouse when we have meetings or cookouts.”
I didn’t tell her it was highly likely we’d have a meeting in the morning, but I didn’t know that for certain.
“I still think this is overkill.”
“Would your mother see it that way? I’m guessing you’re her only kid.”
Her eyes darted to the side. “Yeah, I’m her only child.” She looked at me with attitude. “You’re way too observant.”
“Get your bag, Ivy.”
She stared at me a beat, then turned around, and went to her bedroom. I liked watching her walk away even more than I did the first time she came to the bar.
Again, I got the feeling she was trouble, and I was screwed.