Chapter 9
Skye
W hen I wake, I’m temporarily confused as to where I am and then last night comes rushing back to me. I don’t know why I came here instead of calling Meghan, Trish, or Lucy. In my distress, it’s like I went on autopilot and found myself back here. I certainly didn’t expect to be shacking up with my bosses who I just so happen to be trying to write a story about. Oh, and that I also have a crazy huge crush on. I must have completely lost my mind.
Mom and Bill certainly seem to think so.
When they confronted me, I told them the truth, or at least part of it, that I wanted to get to know more about my dad. Mom started spouting her usual lies and I cut her off, telling her I knew she hung out with the Angels of Havoc once and was married to Tommy. From the look of horror on her face and confusion on Bill’s, it seems I’m not the only one who didn’t know about Mom’s past. That’s probably why it devolved into such a blazing row that I stormed out, both of them want to live in a make-believe world and I refuse to bury my head in the sand and pretend we’re a nice normal family when we’re anything but.
Mom didn’t try to stop me, but she at least did text and ask where I was going to stay. I lied and said I’m staying with my friends. That’s probably what I should have done, and I don’t want to make things worse by admitting I’m now staying in a biker clubhouse.
I can’t believe I’m now staying with the stars of my lust-filled thoughts and wild sex dreams. Speaking of which, I can still smell Drifter on the t-shirt he lent me, it swamps my frame, something I’m unused to. Wearing it feels strangely intimate somehow.
I’m climbing out of bed to go and brush my teeth and take a shower when I hear a knock at the door. I pad over barefoot, checking that the t-shirt covers my ass and teasing the worst of the knots from my hair with my fingers.
Drifter is standing in the doorway looking sexy as hell with freshly washed hair that’s still damp. “Morning,” he says with a lopsided grin. Holding up a box of cereal and a carton of milk he adds, “I thought you might want breakfast. Sorry it’s not something more substantial, we’re not usually morning people…” he says apologetically.
“Thanks,” I say gratefully, feeling self-conscious standing there in just his t-shirt and my panties. The sound of classical music drifting down the corridor distracts me and my brow furrows in confusion. “Am I going crazy or is someone listening to classical music?”
Drifter lets out a small chuckle, “Yeah, that’ll be Buzz.”
“Huh, I didn’t realize he was a fan, I never would have guessed…” I admit.
Drifter smiles at me lazily, his eyes twinkling, “There’s a lot you don’t know about us.”
Suddenly I’m painfully aware of his proximity and the fact I’m half-dressed, I blush. Feeling shy I stammer out, “Right well… thanks for the cereal… I’ve gotta go buy some things before work tonight since I can’t go home so I’m gonna take a shower and get ready…” I babble.
“Need a hand?” he asks cheekily.
The sexual tension between us is palpable and I feel as though there’s a magnetic charge between us, pulling me to him. I contemplate doing just that, inviting him in and letting him take me in the shower. The thought alone has me feeling damp between my thighs, my cheeks flushed, and my breathing labored.
It’s at that moment a door slams and Angel comes stalking out of his room. He glances in our direction and doesn’t seem surprised to see Drifter at my door.
“Drifter, we’ve got someplace to be,” Angel barks.
Drifter nods and looks at me, “Next time,” he says with a wink, his words a tantalizing promise, before walking away.
Angel doesn’t acknowledge me, he simply starts to head out and I quickly shut my bedroom door and scurry inside. It seems for now my fantasy is going to remain that way.
***
After spending the day shopping on Bill’s dime, being liberal with the emergency credit card Bill hasn’t yet blocked, I head back to the club to get ready for my shift. As far as I can tell none of the guys are home, nor are they at the bar when I begin my shift. It’s a slow night with hardly any of the usual club members, Tammy seems off too, jumpy and on edge.
“Is everything all right, Tammy?” I ask after she breaks yet another glass.
She hesitates for a moment as if contemplating whether or not she can trust me with the truth, before admitting, “Not really. Viper and some of his buddies got jumped by a rival MC last night.”
“Oh my, is he okay?” I gasp, reaching out to take Tammy’s hand.
She nods, “Yeah, all good apart from a couple of stitches. Problem is the police got involved. Normally they turn a blind eye to these kinda things but they’re coming down hard on Viper. They have a warrant to search his bike shop. According to them, they’ve got a reliable source that claims the Angels of Havoc are running a chop shop selling stolen vehicles. It’s all bullshit, a man’s hog is sacred, they’d never do that. But if they start sniffing around, they could find out some other, less above-board things that could harm the club,” she explains.
“Oh Tammy, I’m so sorry. But if he’s not doing what he’s accused of then surely, they won’t find anything and it will all blow over,” I try to reason.
Tammy looks at me as though I’m insane. “Whoever’s put them up to this isn’t going to drop it. They’ll find something. They always do. Viper’s on parole for another fight, they could lock him up for a long time because of the fight alone if they decide that it was us who started it and not the other way around.”
“You think someone put the cops up to it?” I say, wondering why the cops would listen when surely the only other people who’d likely want to take on the Angels of Havoc are rival clubs.
Again, Tammy hesitates before confiding in me. My journalist’s curiosity piques, and I have to stop myself from pressing her, I know she’s more likely to open up if I don’t seem too interested.
“The guys are being tight-lipped about the details, but some government official is on the wrong side of the club. Angel and the others gave him a warning, a pretty public one at that, hoping that their reputation would be enough to scare the shit out of him. But of course, men like that don’t take it well when their pride and egos are hurt. It wouldn’t surprise me if that asshole is trying to get his own back,” Tammy explains with a shrug.
She’s surprisingly wise in her summation of what Bill’s like because surely it can’t be a coincidence, and it has to be Bill that is causing trouble for the Angels of Havoc. He has the influence within the police department to pull it off. And he definitely is the type to hold a grudge. If only I knew what the club has against him, I might be able to help.
I mull that thought over for the rest of the night. By eleven thirty only a few stragglers are left.
“Why don’t you head on home, Tammy?” I offer, “I can finish up here and close early.”
“You sure?” she asks gratefully.
I nod and she heads out, throwing her keys to me and shouting her thanks. It doesn’t take me long to hustle the remaining drunks out and tidy up. After ensuring everything is locked, I head toward the back, ready for a shower and bed.
However, as I’m walking past the office, a thought occurs to me. I’m all alone here, with a key to the office in my hands. This could be the only opportunity I get to take a look inside and see if I can find any information about Bill. I know it’s a huge violation of trust against these people who have only been kind to me, but if I can find out more, I might be able to help.
Without further thought or deliberation, I open the door and head inside. The office is exactly as I remember, and a shiver of excitement runs through me as I recall the sex Angel and I had. Pushing the thought aside, I get into my journalistic mindset.
The drawers of the desk don’t contain anything of interest other than some keys. They don’t fit the filing cabinet and there are no other obvious doors or cabinets that would require a key. I turn my attention to the large bookcase that dominates one wall. Is it possible that there’s a hidden room or safe back there? Feeling a little foolish for trying, I search the bookcase, pulling out random books as though they might magically open a secret door if I choose the right one. Logic prevails and I realize that while hidden rooms are real, they’re unlikely to open in such complex ways as they do in the movies. I first try pulling on the shelves, but they don’t budge so I try pushing.
Much to my astonishment, it actually works. The bookcase pops open in two and I pull each side open. On one side there is a large safe, the other, a locked door. With anticipation building in my gut, I insert the key into the door.
The sight that greets me is wholly unexpected.
Holy shit.
I don’t know what I was expecting inside the hidden room, but it sure as heck wasn’t this. a huge bed dominates the space, and next to it, there is a swing with ankle straps, it’s anything but the innocent type of swing I picture when I hear the word… Next to the bed, there’s a large window that looks into a shower room. In display cabinets on the walls are an array of mindboggling sex toys, I didn’t even know there could be so many. In one corner, there’s a minibar and sofas next to a big-screen TV. Along one wall there’s a gun cabinet with an impressive selection of guns. I don’t know why I’m so shocked. The room is basically a man cave gone wild.
It’s clear that I’m not going to find any information about the dispute with Bill here, and yet I can’t help myself. I venture into the room, curiosity piqued as I look around. I can’t help but imagine what being with the guys in here must be like. My heart starts to race as I picture all four of them ravaging me on the bed. If the others are anything like Angel in bed, then I know my imagination doesn’t even cut it. I feel a sharp, irrational stab of jealousy at the thought of what other women have been in here with them, but I force it away.
Of course, it’s just my luck that at that moment, while I’m snooping through their private inner sanctum, I hear the sound of voices approaching the office.
Shit. It’s the guys. They can’t find me here.
In a panic, I pull the bookshelves closed as far as I dare without risking being trapped inside. I just have to hope the guys aren’t planning on coming into this room and that I can sneak out unseen without them noticing I’m not in my room. God knows what they’d do if they found me snooping.
“If fucking Anderson thinks he can get away with fucking with us he’s got another thing coming,” I hear Drifter growl.
“I don’t get what his end game is here. He’s the one whose shady business dealings could be exposed. Exploiting an elderly man for a land grab that’s not even his to sell,” Angel gripes.
I can hear the sound of glasses clinking as they pour drinks. Intrigued that they’re clearly talking about Bill, I lean closer, straining to hear.
“I assume he’s taking a gamble that our club is less law-abiding than his corrupt ass. He’s clearly got half the cops in Gabriel on his payroll,” Buzz suggests. “My guess is he’s trying to scare us into backing down and letting him keep the land.”
“True, but why now? Why didn’t he do that weeks ago when we went to speak with him? I thought that our threats and turning up at his fancy event did the trick,” Gunner queries, his voice calm and contemplative.
I think I have an idea why. Because Bill just found out that I’ve been working for them. The humiliation of them turning up at the gala he could spin to his narrative, explaining why his daughter is working in a biker bar is a whole other story. I feel a stab of guilt that it’s my fault the club is being looked at and that Viper could go to jail. But then I remind myself that Bill’s the one in the wrong here. Clearly, he’s breaking some laws of his own and taking advantage of a vulnerable person for his own gain.
“That’s what we need to find out,” Angel replies. “In the meantime, we need to get Viper and our boys the best representation and be prepared to play Bill Anderson at his own game. Nobody fucks with us and gets away with it, especially not some entitled politician with a bad dye job.”
A short burst of air comes out of my nose as I stifle a laugh that involuntarily bubbles up at Angel’s snarkiness.
“Did you hear that?” Angel asks, his voice tense.
My heart jumps into my throat as they fall silent, listening.
“Could be from Skye upstairs?” Buzz suggests.
“Ah yes, the delightful Skye. After the day we’ve had, surely, we can have some fun with her now? I’d be able to think a lot clearer after finally being able to screw her senseless,” Drifter says jovially, his voice wistful and light.
My cheeks grow hot, and I feel a smug sense of satisfaction that at least Drifter finds me attractive and wants me as much as I want them. I’m eager to hear what the others have to say about me.
“Look…” Gunner pipes up.
“Someone’s been in here,” Angel says, his voice dangerously low.
I can’t see them, but I know they must have seen that the bookcase is ajar.
Shit. What do I do?
They’re going to want to know why I’m in here, and I can’t think of a single excuse that won’t end up with them being severely pissed. As nice as they are to me, I’m under no illusions that if they find out I’ve been lying to them and spying on them they will be angry. And when these men are angry, they’re downright deadly.