2. Chapter 2
Chapter 2
The best things happen unexpectedly.
Chance slid the USB into his pocket, cursing himself as he shut down the computer. He’d planned everything perfectly, had broken into the Uptown Street Kings biker club’s back office when he knew they were all out—except for two guys they’d left behind to guard the place. But they were both passed out in front of one of the TVs in the bar, a basketball game on. A nonissue.
This should have been the perfect time for him to break in undetected, but the rumble of bikes in the distance—and what he could see on the security cameras—told him otherwise. The bikers were back for whatever reason, and currently parking their rides out front. They would all trickle inside in the next five minutes and he would be screwed if he didn’t get out of here.
He’d done some business with the president of the “club” a couple times, but all low-level stuff as he tried to work his way into getting closer to them. To finding out what had happened to his brother.
But Chance was supposed to be out of town, had specifically mentioned it when they’d asked him about a small job recently. Regardless, he couldn’t be found in here.
Their security was shit but that wouldn’t save him if they caught him in the club now. This place was closed on Fridays to everyone but members.
He eased open the office door and slipped out. As he did, the sound of male voices and laughter filled the air from the bar area. Shit .
Knowing he couldn’t use the back door without setting off an alarm, he slipped into the women’s bathroom. It was the way he’d gotten in earlier and it was the way he’d leave. He’d intentionally unlocked one of the windows a week ago in case of this moment.
As he moved to the sink, ready to hoist himself up, he heard more laughter and boots stomping down the hallway. No one should come in here, but if they did, he’d have his ass half out and half in… Nope. Not testing fate.
He ducked into the nearest stall that had an out of order sign and crouched on top of the toilet as he waited for the voices to go past.
The door swung open, followed by more laughter, this time from a woman. A man and a woman, he realized.
“I’m not even supposed to be here,” the woman whispered. “It’s Friday.”
“No one’s gonna care.” A male voice… Johnny Moore. Chance mentally cataloged everything he knew about the man. About six foot even, bulky, more fat than muscle, carried two knives and two pistols almost all the time. Helped run drugs from here to Texas and wasn’t too bright. Not stupid, but he was just a “soldier” who followed orders. And the guy liked sex, a lot , from what Chance had witnessed. As in an industrial amount of screwing. Seemed to have a different woman hanging on him every time Chance was in the bar or spying on the gang.
More laughter, then the sound of a zipper and…oh Jesus, moaning from the woman that sounded fake. Grunts from Johnny.
Just great.
“You’re so wet,” the guy growled just as the stall started to shake around Chance.
It would be his luck if they brought all the stalls down around him. If he got caught, he’d have to move fast, incapacitate Johnny and get out that window.
“Oh god, you’re so big,” the woman moaned. “I’m so close.”
Chance bit back a sigh as the woman continued to moan with porn star acting chops. Suddenly the bathroom door swung open. His adrenaline spiked, all his muscles pulling taut. On instinct, he reached for his pistol even though he could take out two threats without it. But it would be more efficient than getting in hand-to-hand combat.
“Johnny, get the hell out here!”
Chance straightened, his muscles tensing. Did they know he was here? Had he missed one of the cameras? He’d worn a balaclava and gloves in case there’d been cameras he didn’t know about. He wasn’t going to get caught by doing something stupid.
“I’m busy!” Johnny shouted back.
“I don’t give a shit. Put your dick back in your pants and get out here. Someone just set your bike on fire.”
Johnny cursed, then the woman let out a surprised cry before bootsteps stomped quickly out of the bathroom.
Chance waited as the woman adjusted her clothes while muttering to herself. Then the water ran, and finally, the door opened. He peered out of the stall to be sure, and without waiting for another chance, hurried to the plain white sink, hoisted himself up and pushed open the small window.
He bit back a groan as he landed on an old Harley someone had dumped on the side of the building. He’d used it as a step to climb in but coming out was a hell of a lot worse. Twisting, he managed to land on his feet, but not before he heard—
“What the hell!” from the bathroom.
Someone had seen his escape.
Making a split-second decision, he sprinted toward the rear of the clubhouse—which was basically a bar and grill. Almost no one parked out back, and the small parking lot butted up to a main street on the outskirts of New Orleans. He’d have a better shot at getting over that fence than taking on a gang of enraged bikers with no backup.
He heard a shout behind him as he sprinted across the small parking lot, but he was already to the fence. Moving fast, he scaled it, and by the time he swung himself over, he spotted two bikers racing his way.
His boots slammed into the concrete of the broken sidewalk as he contemplated his next move. Traffic zoomed by in both directions, but an SUV jerked to a halt in front of him, slamming on the brakes.
He made a move for his weapon, but the window rolled down and the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen said, “It’s me, Moonlighter. Get in unless you want to get your ass beat.”
He paused for a second, but rustling near the fence behind him and the familiar sound of a round being chambered spurred him into action. He yanked the passenger door open and jumped inside.
Tires screeched, the SUV jerking to life before he’d shut the door. “Moonlighter?” he rasped out as he pulled his seat belt on.
“The one and only.”
“I thought you were a guy.” Which was not the issue right now. But still…she had long, dark hair with bright pink highlights, ripped black jeans, and a tight black T-shirt. Her lips… Jesus, what was wrong with him? He shouldn’t be focusing on her pillow-soft-looking lips, but damn. If he’d ever had a fantasy woman, she was it. What the hell was she doing here, and how had she found him? He wasn’t worried that she could take him physically, but alarm slid through him that she’d found him.
“Clearly not. Did they see your face?”
“No,” he muttered, about to tug off his balaclava. But he paused, since she hadn’t seen his face yet.
As if she read his mind, she glanced at him, her expression dry. “I know who you are, Chance Hendrix.”
Cursing to himself, he tugged it off then glanced over his shoulder. “No one’s following, but I doubt that’s going to last for long.” And seriously, what the hell was going on? He hadn’t told anyone about this. Not his former unit. No one .
Grinning like a feral tiger, she pulled out a small black device, then pressed the little blue button in the middle. “No one is going to follow us.”
“What did you just do?”
As they pulled up to a stoplight, she tapped on the dashboard of the SUV and a screen popped up. It showed…a view of the front of the biker bar he’d just escaped. There was no sound, but the president was straddling his Harley, clearly pissed. The angle was static and it looked like it was from one of the club’s own cameras.
“I hacked into the Smart Security system and now none of their bikes will recognize the matching key fobs. They won’t start.” And she looked absolutely smug about that.
That was…impressive. Damn . “Someone said something about a fire.”
“Oh yeah, I set two of the bikes on fire, including one belonging to a guy named Johnny. I’ve been watching them for a week and he’s gross. Plus, his bike is older with almost no computerized stuff for me to hack. So I improvised.” Again with the smug smile that, holy shit, turned her from already gorgeous to something out of this world.
“And you’re…really Moonlighter?” The guy…no, woman he’d been gaming with for years. Even when he’d been in the army.
“The one and only, assface.” Which was what she sometimes called him when they were gaming and got mad when he beat her at something. But that wasn’t proof. Still, it sounded like her.
“Okay, I have questions. Like how the hell did you know I was here? Or who I am? Why are you here?”
“I’m here to save you,” she said as if he was the densest person she’d ever met, and glanced in the rearview mirror before taking another turn onto Lasalle Street. Then she pulled into a parking garage and kept going until they were on the top floor. She reverse-parked next to an empty Mini Cooper with tinted windows. “Come on. I’ll tell you everything once we get out of here. They shouldn’t have been able to follow us but I want to be careful.”
Since he knew he could take her out if she ended up being a threat, he did as she said, sliding into the passenger seat of the Mini Cooper and immediately pushing the seat back. Not that it helped much. “This is a freaking clown car.”
She snort-laughed and glanced over at him, her dark sunglasses unfortunately covering her eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t think about your height.”
“Answers. Now.”
Letting out a soft sigh, she headed back the way they’d come, driving way too fast for being in a parking garage. “When you stopped gaming…I got worried. So I decided to see what was going on. And sorry, I know that’s intrusive, but I’m a PI so it’s basically what I do.”
“A PI? Who hacks?”
“Yep, been doing that a lot longer though. And FYI, most PIs hack in one form or another or hire someone who does it for them so it’s not weird.”
“How long?”
“Ah…since I was nine, I guess.”
He blinked, then clutched the center console when she took a sharp turn out of the garage. “Why is your avatar a giant guy?”
She paused, and even though he couldn’t see her eyes, she seemed surprised. “That’s why you thought I was a guy?”
“Well…yeah. And some of your stories…” He trailed off as he remembered one. About how she’d gotten revenge on some asshole who’d messed with her sister when they were kids. She’d set the guy’s bike on fire, which…he’d thought had been a little nuts but also hilarious. And she’d been twelve at the time. “Yeah, I definitely assumed you were a guy.”
She shrugged, then pressed the gas as the light turned green. “Fair assumption. I chose the avatar when I was fifteen and just kept it.” She was quiet for a long moment, and he couldn’t tell if she was going to say anything more.
Chance also knew that he shouldn’t be concerned so much with the avatar, but how she’d found him. And you know, why she’d saved him. Because he wasn’t certain he would have gotten away without her. Which was a humbling feeling for someone with his training. But he’d rushed in because he’d seen an opening and had thought the risk was worth it to find his brother.
“I was scrawny when I was a teenager and the avatar is how I felt on the inside,” she finally continued. “Or how I wanted to be perceived by the world. I honestly haven’t thought about it in years though. I didn’t set out to make you think I was a guy or anything. It’s just part of my online persona now.”
He nodded slowly, finding himself believing her. It wasn’t like they’d ever specifically stated their genders, but they had shared stories. Life experiences. And he’d loved gaming with her over the years. She was hilarious and a little vicious and now it turned out that she was a PI hacker who’d ridden in to save him like a white knight. Or insanely sexy queen. “Did you really…raise your sisters?”
“Yep. For their high school years anyway.”
And it was clear that was all he was going to get about that. “So what’s the deal? You were worried about me and…tracked me down?”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you,” he finally said, because screw it. “Pretty sure you saved my life.” Quite literally. He might have been able to talk his way out of things, but he doubted it. And not without some bruises and busted ribs.
She shrugged as she pulled down a quiet street in an older part of New Orleans near Tulane. Older, but pricey. It was clear the neighborhood had been affected by a major storm or maybe just time. Half of it was currently being renovated. “Where are we?” he asked.
“Ah…my place. I just moved in a couple weeks ago,” she murmured as she pulled into a long, skinny driveway next to a shotgun-style house painted pale purple with blue shutters. There was a little bit of yellow trim in places and a lot of greenery along the house.
“You’re bringing me to your house?”
“Is there any reason I shouldn’t?” She slid her sunglasses up as she turned to face him, and he was struck by the force of blue-green eyes so clear they reminded him of the waters surrounding the Bahamas.
“No.” But it bothered him that she was just trusting some guy entrance to her place. He was a lot bigger than her and they only knew each other from online. Later they were going to talk about that—she needed to be smart about her physical safety.
“Okay, then. Come on. We’ll talk more inside and you can clean up a little.”
He glanced down at himself, winced at the ripped flannel sleeve and dried blood on his forearm. He’d felt the scrape as he pushed himself out of the bathroom window, but had ignored it. Compared to past injuries, this might as well be a paper cut.
He couldn’t ignore it any longer though. Much like he couldn’t ignore the dark-haired goddess who’d busted into his life out of the blue and saved his ass.