5. Casper
five
Casper
I'm in the middle of a very nice daydream when a heavy leather toe digs brutally into my calf. Fucking ouch.
"Are you listening?" Dante's next to me, his scowl etched in deep.
"To each and every word, Prez." Being cheeky with him only makes his frown deepen, but it's better than being called out in front of the others sitting through this boring church session.
"The Hounds have been sighted by Azrael.
Axel got a shipment stolen under his nose.
Yes, those clubs have their hands full."
"And they stole one of our vans." Three seats down, Havoc looks more displeased than Dante does. Is it because of the theft, or because he was made to leave the garage to talk about our newest threat?
"They didn't kill the prospect driving it, so what's the big deal?
We've got vehicles for days." Trying to tell a pissed-off crew to calm down does exactly what I assume it would.
Getting huffy on both sides, they don't enjoy my shrug, either.
"If they're driving one of our rides, it'll make it that much easier to spot them.
Whichever prospect is the one who got a good look at them should be able to give a decent description of them, right?
We find and take care of them. Just as we always have done. "
If all three clubs have a shaky truce going on to take down these pesky dogs, then it'll all work out in the end. We've had a momentary ceasefire happen a few times in the past handful of years; this isn't something new.
I want to leave. Fuck. It feels like Dante's keeping me away from my favorite shop on purpose. He's not a fan of how distracted I've been as of late, but he doesn't get it.
He hasn't met someone who has flipped everything upside down.
If he can find a woman who doesn't mind his asshole attitude and scarred look, then he can see where I'm coming from and stop worrying about me.
"The Hounds aren't the only issue." Dante sits back in his chair, and the old seat creaks beneath his bulk. "The mayor is trying to overstep once again, and I'm growing tired of it."
He's been picking fights with that asshole for the last three years.
"I found a few cameras posted up by the docks," Hex informs as she fiddles with her energy drink can. "Assuming he's trying to shed us in a bad light, it took no time to play dummy footage, but they'll notice eventually."
"He's not going to keep the position long enough to do anything about it." Dante huffs and grinds his teeth, and I wonder if this is what has him in such a mood. Maybe it's not me after all.
Well, while I'm happy to use my blades to his demand, all that drama he has on the political side of the town is his drama.
Leaning back, I'm right back to where I was before. Back to my daydreams, and the curiosity of what color her lipstick will be.
I'd texted her this morning with a hidden intention, telling her not to wear a dress today. As much as I enjoy the different designs she must keep stored in her closet for the warmer weather, I'm going to need her completely covered.
Just thinking about everything happening in my head, I rub my face to keep the grin there hidden from the others.
Now's not the time to be cheerful. Especially when the one guy who can get in my way may do something if he knows I'm going to go out of my way to be reckless.
After listening to some planning on what Dante plans to do to deal with the mayor, he finally wraps up the meeting.
As difficult as it is not to be the first person to jump up, I stay settled in my chair as bodies vacate the room.
"How's your side?" Next to me, Dante doesn't budge. His stare weighs me down, but it's his caring attitude that makes me squirm.
It's nice to be cared about, sure. Especially when, unlike him, I don't have any blood family to get all fussy over me. At the same time, I don't get injured enough to have him worry like this.
I really gave him a scare, huh? During my in and out of consciousness back when it happened, I remember waking up to him being ready to kill one of those poor nurses at the Last Stop. It's a miracle they took me in after the threats he spouted at them.
Lifting my shirt, I pat my wound. I'd ditched the bandaging after removing the stitches myself. "I'm good as new. Stop stressing. I still have, what, six lives?"
He doesn't laugh at my joke, then again, when was the last time he cracked a smile?
Now all alone, I push to my feet. "Now, if you don't mind, I've got a craving for literature to feed."
He sighs out his disapproval, but thankfully, he doesn't fight me on it. We've been together for too long to know moments like this don't come up often enough for us. Finding people who can't seem to dislodge themselves from our minds.
"Don't be reckless." Making sure to send me away with one last demand, he grunts at the salute I send him off with before leaving the room.
By the time I've circled around a sprinting toddler being chased by Ace, passed an aggressive match of darts between Butcher and Riot, and excused myself past the increasing amount of bodies that are starting to crowd the warehouse space, I finally make my way out.
Not even the fresh air hitting my lungs is enough relief to ease the tension in my body. The only remedy to fix me is a ten-minute ride away.
"I love the gothic look, I really do."
Kylee practically jumps out of her skin as I take her in from behind. The sound of the book in her hand hitting the ground strikes the silence between us.
I've been told that I'm quiet, and it's a talent I've mastered over the years to the point of being second-nature. At the same time, she must've heard that bell ring. What kind of thoughts were occupying her pretty head to be so lost in thought?
Could her head be as full of me as mine is of her?
"How do you keep doing that?" Flustered, she bends to rescue her fallen book and checks it over for any scuffs or folds.
She's wearing a pair of black jeans that make the front of mine painfully tight. It's not just the way the denim hugs her thighs and ass as she folds over, it's the fact that she put them on to begin with.
Is she going to play hard to get again today? Every few days, it feels like she tries a new method to turn me away from my ritual visits.
Before she can consider arguing, I'm taking the book from her. As her plump, black-colored lips part, I swap the book with my helmet.
"See if that fits." Tearing my eyes away from her, I turn on my heel and flip the book over to read the back of it. From the synopsis, it looks like a fantasy romance.
By the time I settle at the table that may as well be mine, I notice she hasn't moved. Instead, she's simply standing there, gawking at me.
I shouldn't give her jeans my appreciation only. The blouse she's wearing is doing wonders for her top half, too.
Hell, I'm pretty sure Kylee could be wearing nothing but a burlap sack, and I'd still go crazy. Even more if she'd let me peel it away.
"Why would I..." Snapping out of her daze, she looks down and stares at her reflection through the visor.
"I was thinking that if you hit your quota early, you could close shop early and go somewhere with me." Pinching the cover between my fingers, I fight not to squirm in the seat. Is it because of my excitement for the thought of getting her on my bike, or am I nervous she'll reject my offer?
"I..." She lets out a breathless laugh. "That's irresponsible."
"It'll be fun." Setting the book down, I look at her impressive collection of unsold stock. "How many books do I have to buy to convince you to be irresponsible for the day?"
She puckers her lips at me, and it takes all the strength a man can possess not to get up and crowd her against the shelf behind her.
While she mulls over her answer, struggling to settle on a number, I know whatever she comes up with won't make a difference. Even if it's a bad financial decision, I'd buy out this entire store if it means I could steal her away for however long it takes to restock.
"Fifty books," she finally decides after a couple of minutes. "I'll warn you, my books aren't cheap."
This woman is adorable. "You don't ship books by any chance, do you? I'm not sure I can fit that many on my bike."
Let alone the fact that I doubt this store sells that many books in a week.
"Though, I wouldn't mind if you left me no choice but to stop by multiple times to pick up my order." Biting the inside of my cheek to avoid smiling too much, I'm surprised as she considers my question.
Turning to the side, she attempts to hide her blush from me. "Do you live in town? I could deliver them to you to save costs."
I try to imagine it, this woman strolling up to the very apartment complex where so many club members live. She'd be surrounded by so much leather that any fear she may feel for a biker could be taken care of in a single visit.
At the same time, what if she catches a glimpse of someone else and likes what she sees? Is that a risk I'm willing to take in order to coax her into my apartment? To see a side of me that I haven't shown anyone in... ever?
"I think we can work something out." Sitting up straighter, I forget about the book in my grip altogether.
Moving to my feet once more, I pull out my wallet.
Plucking out a card, I force my body to move toward her front counter instead of in her direction.
"How long will it take to check out that many books? "
"You're really serious?" Flabbergasted by me, she drifts in my direction. "With that many books, you won't need to come here every day."
Is it me, or do I hear a hint of disappointment in her voice?
"I may not need to, but I'll still want to. That's something for me to deal with. Now, ring me up, sweetheart. Drain my account as you please."
As she stares at the card I offer her, she lets out the cutest scoff. "You're crazy."
"I've been called far worse."
There's another wave of hesitance on her part, and I can't help but wonder if what she's feeling is some kind of guilt. Her attempt to scare me away has failed, and now, she's left with this feeling.
At this rate, I'm going to have to kidnap her, aren't I? Forget the books. I'll just scoop her up and carry her out of this shop and steal her away for however long I please. That'll make the decision to join me easier, and she can aim her feelings at me instead of herself.
She drifts toward me to set my helmet on the counter. Glancing at my card, she turns her gaze away. "May as well sit down. This is going to take a minute."
Fuck yes.
I do as I'm told, making sure to tell her to include the book I'd touched earlier.
I don't even mind that she ignores me as she starts making her decisions on which books to part ways with. It's impossible not to notice that most of her choices are in the mystery section.
A moment like this feels priceless, so whatever the total is, it'll be worth every penny.