Chapter Nine
She was insanely beautiful when she was angry. The blue in her eyes almost smouldered, and those perfect pink lips were still plump and fuckable when she pursed them together. Her hand tensed under mine, and those words, the threat, all of it, made my blood heat. I wanted to test that threat. See what she would do if I didn’t let go. But I had a job to do this morning, striking while the iron was hot, while she was still frightened by the events of last night. And now that someone had busted her office, I was certain I was onto a winner.
I smiled at her; her face contorting into a further fit of fury. But then I relaxed my grip, sliding my hand from hers, stroking my fingers over the smooth skin pulling over dainty knuckles.
“Look, Heidi,” I softened my tone, forcing the thumping heat from my brain and my words before I blew any chances completely. “The office here. You’ve no real protection against intruders.”
“We don’t get many.”
“You sure about that?”
She wasn’t. Her teeth raked her lip, just momentarily, and then her mask of control was back.
“I’m an electrician. Let me put you some cameras up. Inside and out. I’ll rig them to an alarm system. We can send any breach alerts straight to your phone and the coppers. You can even watch the cameras from the comfort of your own bed if you want to.”
“So, you want me to pay your company to install cameras and an alarm system?”
“Not pay. I’ll install all of it for free.”
“Why?” She cocked her head to the side slightly, watching me, her hair falling away from her slender neck. A neck I’d love to mark.
“The club can’t afford to pay the usual funeral rates. We only have a limited amount of funds. Dave always helped us out, recognising the good we did for the community.”
It wasn’t an entire lie. We kept businesses safe. For a price. And we raised money for charities, a proportion of our own profits from our home rally going to good causes. It helped our image, kept the police just a little further away.
“And what do you do for the community?”
God, this woman was a challenge.
“We raise money for charities, help where we can. Offer ride outs for disadvantaged kids, that sort of thing.”
“You sound angelic.”
Her tone was icy. Condescending. It boiled my piss and consumed every fucking inch of me. And already the bulge in my jeans was becoming uncomfortable.
“We’re just trying to give our dead president the send-off he deserves. He was well respected in the biker community.” And much more feared. There wasn’t much difference between the two. “If you can help us out with the costs of the funeral. I can install everything you need to keep the office safe. For free.”
Heidi stilled, her face giving nothing away.
“It’s a kind offer,” she said eventually, her tone light, business like.
Fuck. No matter whether she was annoyed, stoic, cool, frightened. Everything about her was driving me mad. She boiled my insides in a way I’d never come across before.
“But I have two offices. And both need proper security.”
I knew where this was headed. And so did she. She’d left the counter offer clear on the table between us. I should say no. Offer to fit out the other office at cost. But something about her was clouding my judgement. Maybe it was the lips, or the hips, or the pert arse I’d watched in those light-grey suit pants as I’d followed her into the office. Or those enchanting blue eyes. Fuck. She had me over a barrel, with my pants round my fucking ankles, and she knew it.
“Ok. If I’ll kit out both offices. For free. If you agree to keep the Northern Kings on a discounted rate for all our funeral needs.”
“Hmmm,” the noise in her throat was even delicious. “You seem to use our services a lot. You expecting more deaths?”
Her eyes pierced mine, holding me. I should be wary of what she was saying. Her words loaded. But all I could concentrate on was that face, with the high cheekbones and those pink lips.
“We do use your services. We’re very loyal customers. And yes, there will always be more. It goes with the territory. An aging population of members and some not so great habits.”
“So, you’ll do the entire two offices for free? Cameras, alarm system, link to the police and remote access?”
“Yes. For 50% off funeral costs.”
“25%”
Fuck me sideways. This woman was a better wheeler dealer than Magnet.
“Nah 50%. This shit should cost you a couple of grand.”
“30% then.”
“45%”
“I’ll shake on forty.”
Fuck it.
“Fine. 40%. Free installation for both offices.”
“Great,” she stood, the office chair sliding out gracefully behind her, her arm reaching forward towards me, that delicate hand outstretched, light pink nails pointing at me.
I slid my hand into hers, the flesh of her palm warm and smooth, soft, like she moisturised those hands every hour.
“Can’t do anything about the police presence though,” she said as our hands moved in unison, one movement cementing our deal. “That one’s out of my hands.”
“I’ll sort that out.”
“When can I expect to have the security up and running?”
The woman wasted no time, and I suspected she didn’t trust me. But my word was my honour. When we cut a deal, my end would be upheld, and if the other wasn’t, the full force of the Kings would come down upon them. But there was something about Heidi that made me think force would not be necessary.
“I can start in a few days’ time. What works for you?”
“As soon as possible, please. Tomorrow would be ideal.”
“See ya tomorrow then,” I smiled, watching her intently.
Her eyes bore into mine, but her face didn’t change. Hard. Unyielding. Not the hint of a smile. A far cry from the fear I’d seen on it last night. When, for the first time, she looked vulnerable. And I liked it all. Her determination, her dismissiveness, her vulnerability. Every bit. Fuck me, this woman was doing a number on me.
The knock on the door behind me interrupted this moment we seemed to have. A head bobbed in. Heidi looked up, her attention now on the receptionist who was fucking interrupting us.
“Ms Fischer, the police are here.”
“Thanks. Show them in. Fury and I were just finished.”
We fucking weren’t. I had more to say. More to ask. More to find out about her. I didn’t want to leave. Heidi looked at me expectantly, and I could have sat there until she actually threw me out, but I had no desire to hang around the coppers any longer than was absolutely necessary.
“See you tomorrow, Heidi.” I rose to my feet, smiling at her. Her eyes followed my movements, but there was no returning smile.
Behind me, the coppers had stepped in. Both uniforms, but one considerably taller than the other. Almost the same height as me, not as broad, but with the same dark eyes and the same coloured hair.
“Brother,” I commented, our shoulders brushing each other, our eyes connecting, disgust in his, indifference in mine.
*****
The clubhouse was dark when I pulled up, stuffing my truck in the pot-holed car park at the side of it. There wasn’t a light in sight. No sign of life. But Indie was here somewhere, because his van and his bike were parked outside. And next to his, another bike sat. Not a Harley. A racing bike, slick and fast and plain black.
The front doors should have been locked. Extra security measures in place. At one time, they would have been left open for members to come and go, knowing no one would take advantage. But after the burning cut situation only a few weeks ago, and the increasing threat from the Hand and their rookie club, The Aces, we’d stepped security up. The cameras above the door should have been blinking, showing signs of life. I knew that because they were the same spec I was going to install in Heidi’s offices over the next couple of days. But no red light came from the devices, no movement tracking mine. I flicked to the app on my phone, where I could see all the club installed cameras like some sinister ‘Big Brother’. Nothing. Someone had turned them off.
A heavy weight settled in my stomach. A sudden nervousness, hairs prickling on my arms under my jacket. The front doors of Indie’s pub yielded as soon as I pushed at them. Inside, everywhere was quiet, still. I didn’t switch a light on, creeping through carefully and quietly, peering through the dark, the only light a weak glow of a neglected streetlamp from the carpark, pooling a dull orange glow through the windows at the side. And as I stalked closer to the bar, there was a slither of pale grey light creeping through the bottom of the door that led to the pub’s kitchens and the living quarters above.
The floorboards under my feet groaned loudly, the silence amplifying the sound of the old wood. But in front of me in the gloom nothing moved, the line of light in front of me growing sharper, until I stopped outside the kitchen door. There was a drone of voices inside, and I listened for a few seconds, holding my breath, straining to make out how many people were inside. Two. That’s what I could hear. Two men’s voices and I was sure one of them was Indie’s. But there was a note to his tone, a hint of malice. And now I was unsettled.
I had no weapons on or near me. My only choice was my fists. And the element of surprise as I burst through the door into the gigantic kitchen and towards the two men stood in the middle.
“Fury? What the fuck are you doing?” Indie barked, as I launched myself at the other man stood with him.
The man with the long blonde haired wheeled out of my way like a graceful, overly muscled ballet dancer.
“V?” I recognised him now, the tattoos that covered his entire body, ending at his throat, as he batted me sideways and I nearly barrelled into the big fryer.
“Nice to see you too, Fury. What the fuck are you doing?”
“Dealing with intruders, you muppet. What are you doing here?”
I looked across at the exiled member of the Northern Kings and back to our new president, a quiet demand for answers.
“He’s here for a job,” Indie muttered, and I could see the hint of unease on his face.
“Who?”
“Emmie’s ex.”
“Mate, I would have done that for you. You shouldn’t have risked bringing V back.”
“It needs to be businesslike, clean. It needs to look like an unfortunate turn of events.”
“I could have made it clean.”
“I can’t take the chance Emmie finds out it’s come from me, Fury. I can’t have her knowing I’ve killed the father of her kids. And I couldn’t look those kids in the eyes knowing that I’d butchered their old man. However much he deserves it. This is a job for a professional.”
He looked back across at the man known as the Viking. The professional hit man who stood in our clubhouse. Indie was right, the Viking would be emotionless, clean and precise. There would be little interest from the police, and nothing left to tie it back to us. To the Police the Viking didn’t exist. He was a ghost, a spectre, the angel of death.
“You got any space left on that skin for anymore ink?” I asked him.
“Sure, I can fit a few more in. Just don’t tell Nat.” He smiled, conversely warm for the man he was, the best contract killer there is.
“Mate, I wouldn’t know where to find you. And no, I won’t ask.”
I knew better. Not that I would get an answer.
“You better scarper before anyone sees you,” I warned, knowing that shit would hit the fan if anyone else found him here.
The Viking grinned, like he relished the challenge of escaping nearly thirty members who had been ordered to kill him on sight if he ever breached the terms of his exile. Little did they know, this wasn’t the first time he’d been back in Kings’ territory, back in this very pub.
“Think about the funeral,” he said to Indie in a half code and our president merely nodded his head.
Then the tattooed man stepped out into the corridor, disappearing into the shadows.
“It’s a risk bringing the Viking back here,” I stated, my voice booming in the space of the kitchen.
Indie shook his head. “We’ve got bigger risks than V, Fury. He’d be an excellent weapon against what’s coming.”