Framed for Life (The Kings of Darkness MC #4)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

This is the wrong place.

It has to be. There’s no way this is the cash drop. What kind of idiot picks a park on a Saturday afternoon in the summer?

It’s crawling with all the wrong kind of people.

A woman with a camera flutters around her car, pulling out an assortment of junk.

Ear-splitting squeals echo from the playground. A horrible rendition of Happy Birthday is being sung by grade schoolers at a picnic shelter.

This ain’t it.

Lowering my Oakley shades I scan the tree line. A trail leads off into the woods.

If that asshole thinks I’m going to hike in there to find him, he’s dead fucking wrong.

With a grunt, I kick down the stand on my Super Glide. The leather of my cut creaks as I climb off, sun beating down on my shoulders.

People are staring at me. Not surprising.

When a six-foot-six tatted up outlaw biker shows up at family central, people get weirded out.

Chester Ward gets ten minutes. That’s it. Then his fee doubles. And he has to find me. That’ll make him squirm.

Grim satisfaction in my scowl, I head toward an empty picnic table under a tree.

At least people won’t think I’m about to snatch them if I’m not standing next to my bike.

Ha. If they only knew the truth.

If I want to snatch them it will be in the middle of the night from their goddamned bed.

“It’s so nice of you to be early. Punctuality is so hot,” a woman calls from behind me.

There’s no way she’s talkin’ to me.

“Your motorcycle is really badass. It’s going to make amazing photos.”

I slowly turn around, frowning. It’s the camera woman. She’s juggling a picnic basket, some flowers, and a gigantic high-end Canon.

“You talking to me?”

She’s out of breath. “Yep, I’m Anna.”

The bouquet tumbles out of her hand, my reflexes kick in and I boot it in the air and catch it.

Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open like I’m some kind of circus animal.

“Whoa! Now that’s a save. I brought those for you in case you forgot.”

“Me?” I grunt.

“It’s okay. Guys get so up in their head about this kind of thing it happens all the time.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Chester slinking into the parking lot in some kind of lowered Honda POS.

I toss the flowers on the table and walk off.

Chester parks next to my bike and gets out of his car. He looks like shit. Nervous. Sweating. Flicking his beady eyes everywhere.

When I walk up on him he startles. “Fuck. How do you do that? You’re the size of a skyscraper and you manage to walk up on me every damned time.”

“This is a stupid drop. Get in your car. We ain’t doing anything here.”

Chester bleaches to the color of toilet paper. “Um. Uh. About that…”

This fucker.

I step close enough to block out the sun. “Your payment’s due today. This one time you get a bonus. Midnight tomorrow I don’t have your money, your shop becomes property of the Kings of Darkness.”

He squeaks, backing against his car. “But…”

I snarl at him. “Prez didn’t want to give you this chance but here we are. And once again, you’re a sorry piece of shit.”

He’s frozen. Jaw flapping as he tries to think of another lie.

“Get lost,” I growl. “I collect in money or blood tomorrow.”

The punk trips over his feet trying to get in his car. “I’ll have it,” he wheezes.

He’s sweating bullets as he backs out, leaving me standing on the asphalt.

Jesus. My fists itch to punch something.

“Oh, there you are,” the woman with the camera exclaims. “It’s time to get you in place.”

I hold up my hand like a giant stop sign. “Lady, you got the wrong guy.”

She looks at me as if I need a hug. “Oh goodness. You’re nervous.”

“Me?” My laugh is loud as thunder. “Sister, the last time I was nervous I was four. Then I outgrew everyone and I’ve been scaring the shit out of people since.”

Puzzled about her antics, I mutter under my breath and head to my bike. That’s when she latches onto my arm. Hanging on like a koala bear with her giant camera dangling from a strap around her neck.

“Please! You can’t leave. It’s just too hard. I hate telling them they’ve gotten stood up.”

I scratch my beard, looking down at this bizarre woman. Maybe she needs to be admitted.

“You on something? Cause if you need to go to rehab, I got some contacts.”

That goes right over her head. Figures. Druggies never admit shit.

I’m about to shake her off when a car whips into the parking lot. The thing is rattling itself to death.

“Oh my god,” Anna chokes. “There she is. Come on, we need to get you in place.”

I set her away from me, scowling. “I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

Head-case grabs her phone from her back pocket. “But you messaged that you’d be coming on your sport bike.”

My brows shoot up.

“Sport bike,” I grumble. “What you see right there, that’s a Harley. Not a crap Yamaha or something.”

She frowns, her whole body stiffens as she reads something on her phone.

“Oh no! She’s getting stood up. He cancelled. That idiot.”

She’s rattling on as I look past her to the car that just arrived. Behind the wheel there’s a woman putting something on her lips.

Looks like someone getting ready for a date.

I figure things are clear as far as I’m concerned—as in I’m leaving—but if anything, it gets more confusing.

Anna starts preaching. “You see that girl? She’s young and beautiful and she’s been through hell. This was a blind date photo session her friends signed her up for to cheer her up, and you’re about to save the day.”

She’s serious.

I snort. “I ruin people’s days. Not save them.”

Chester Ward for example.

As if seeing me for the first time she scrunches her nose. “The vest has to go. But besides that you’re okay. Beauty and the beast vibes.”

My lip is snarling as I shake my head. “This cut goes to the grave with me. I don’t take it off.”

Her nose scrunches more but I’m hardly concerned. I’m interested in the parking lot. Or more specifically the woman that should be of zero interest to me at all.

But now the photographer’s story has got me curious.

What kind of hell has this girl been through?

I specialize in hell.

The car door opens and a blonde steps out. Ringlets catch sunlight. She looks around from behind sunglasses. Nervously biting her lip.

I’m staring, but don’t care.

She’s worth staring at. The woman’s curvy frame is wrapped in a light blue sundress the same color of summer sky.

That, and white cowboy boots with those round, girly sunglasses. She’s got girl next door written all over her.

She’s fidgeting with something in her hands.

A can of beer.

“Turn around! You’re not supposed to see her,” Cray-cray photographer gasps and I’m suddenly being shoved.

The only explanation for how the tiny woman spins me around is because I’ve been stunned by the eye-popping beauty of the blonde.

Good lawd.

“Don’t look,” Anna orders as she dashes off. She’s back with the flowers a few seconds later, smashing them against my chest. “You’ll figure it out as we go.”