Chapter 10
Maverick
Icleared my throat. “Look, man. Enough is enough. I’m tired. You’re tired. I’ve got shit to do. You’ve got…” I paused, taking in the battered man strapped to a chair.
Bear had worked him over good. His face was almost purple with one eye swollen shut and a few teeth missing. His chest was covered in bruises and dried blood, and based on the wheezing, he probably had a broken rib stuck in his lung.
“And you’ve got dying to do. Tell us what you were doing last night, and we’ll end it now. Keep up with this shit, and I’ll turn you over to him.” I nodded toward Blade, who was sharpening a long bowie knife. “This guy’s got all fucking day.”
The man spit on the floor. “Provalivai.”
Thank fuck. It was the first word he’d spoken in twelve hours, but it was enough.
Baller had clocked the guy on one of our surveillance cameras.
He’d come into the bar and nursed one beer over several hours.
His focus stayed on the brothers and the door that led from the bar to the main clubhouse.
The one that had a special code on it. Eventually he made his move to sneak through the door behind a brother, but we were ready for him.
“He’s all yours.” I patted Blade on the shoulder as I opened the shed door. “Bear, come on. You’re with me.”
He huffed like a kid who had his toy taken away but followed me out.
As much as I sympathized, I needed Bear working on the first real lead we had in months.
We walked along the path in the woods toward the clubhouse.
I’d have much rather been on the path that led to our sexy as hell temporary neighbor.
I sighed. Maybe it was time to visit Ol’ Larry.
I had plans for Kat, and our time was running out.
“You wanna clue me in, VP? He had at least two more rounds in him. He was starting to warm up to me.”
I shook my head. “He’s not going to talk. You heard what he said.”
“I heard something—provolone or some shit.”
I rolled my eyes. “He didn’t say provolone.” I opened the door to the clubhouse and led the way to my office. “He said, well, fuck, I don’t know what he said. But that’s because I don’t speak Russian.”
“Russian?” Bear stopped. “Are you serious?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Tracker and I guarded a shipment for the Irish that was held at a Bratva-controlled port. We sat in front of that container for fifteen hours until the buyers arrived. Everyone around us spoke Russian. It was boring as fuck. But it led to my new skill of being able to identify Russian words.” That and my love of spy movies, but I’d leave that out.
“So the guy in our bar was Bratva? What the fuck do they want in Atlantic Shores?”
“Good question, and one I’m sure my enforcer will stop at nothing to figure out.” My voice turned hard. Bear might be my best friend, but the club came before everything and he understood that.
We’d prospected together, though it felt like a lifetime ago.
Bear had been eighteen and I was twenty-two.
Dad had insisted I get a college degree before joining the club, said we needed some book smarts to go with the street smarts.
In retrospect, I think he did that to keep me safe.
At that time, Sinner had recently gone to prison and there was rot in the club.
Dad worked hard to get rid of the traitors, and by the time I finished school, things were looking up.
He’d purchased the property we were currently located on and the club’s finances improved.
Then a massive heart attack took him out.
Ironic, really. After all the crazy shit he did, it was the bacon and fried food that did him in.
It became my mission to see his vision come true, to see the club prosper and go back to the brotherhood it was meant to be.
I streamlined our businesses—got rid of the ones that were high risk and low reward.
Nobody had time for that shit. Our protection business was high risk but very high reward and we were now the strongest we’ve ever been financially.
Maybe that business degree worked out after all.
I stepped inside my office. “I’ll get you the contact. Rowan might have information he’d be willing to share.”
Bear scratched his beard. “Bratva, huh?” His eyes danced with excitement. “Yeah, that could be a lot of fun.”
My phone rang and I checked the caller ID. “I’ve gotta take this. I’ll text you Rowan’s number.”
With a two-finger salute, he turned and left.
“Larry, how are you my friend?” And how is your gorgeous daughter?
“I’m good, thanks. Just need a favor.”
“Of course, man. Whatever you need.” Especially if it involved seeing Kat.
“My daughter needs her oil changed, and I was hoping your boys could fit her in this afternoon. She’s got that fancy ass car with the three letters, and she’s used to going to those overpriced dealerships. I told her I had a place that would do her up right for half the price.”
I chuckled. I’d offer to ‘do her up right’ for free. “Yeah, that’s no problem, Larry. Send her on over. I’ll make sure she’s well taken care of.”
***
I waited until Kat’s Beamer was on the lift before coming out. In the event she misconstrued my attentiveness for stalking, I needed to limit her ability to run.
She sat in the waiting area, flipping through a magazine and looking like a fucking goddess in another pair of tight jeans and an oversized, off the shoulder t-shirt.
Her dark hair was braided over her shoulder and she twirled it between her fingers.
She looked softer, more relaxed than before.
Maybe country life was working for her. But enough staring from a distance.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Kitty Kat.” I stepped from behind the counter as if I’d just come from the back office.
“Mav?” Her brows furrowed. “Do you work here, too?”
I shook my head. “Nah, but it’s one of the club’s businesses. The brother who runs the place is on medical leave, so I pop in a couple times a week.”
“Oh.” She nodded. “Well, it was good seeing you again.” Her eyes lingered on mine as she turned a page without looking.
“Have you had a chance to see the town yet? A lot’s changed since the last time you were down.”
“Not really, just the grocery store, hospital, and here.” She glanced out the window. “I guess I should get to know the place a little better.”
And there it was. My opening. “Your car has another hour before it’ll be ready. I’d be happy to take you for a ride, show you a few of the local highlights.”
“I hadn’t planned on—” She stopped and took a breath. “You know what? Why not? That sounds like fun. I’d love a tour. A fun, spontaneous, unplanned tour.”
I handed her a spare helmet from under the counter and took her outside to my bike. The helmet connected to mine with Bluetooth so we’d be able to talk during the ride.
“You ridden on a bike before?” I asked her.
She nodded, fastening the helmet. “It’s been awhile, but yeah.”
My jaw clinched. The thought of Kat on the back of someone else’s bike made my blood boil. I must not have hidden my reaction too well, because Kat smirked.
“It was my mom’s. She went through a phase between husbands two and three.”
I let out a whoosh of relief. I had no right to be upset one way or another. I had no claim on this woman. This woman who was only in town for a few weeks and needed to focus on her ailing father. But tell that to my aching cock.
I helped her onto the back of my bike, placing her feet on the pegs. She was wearing some kind of short boots which were perfect for riding. I climbed in front, wrapping her arm tight around my waist. “Scoot a little closer, babe.”
She closed the space between us, but it wasn’t enough. “Closer.” She scooted more, and I could feel her warmth against my ass. “That’s it.” Riding with a hard on sucked, but that seemed to be my permanent state around Kat. “Tap my leg twice if you need me to stop. Otherwise, enjoy the tour.”
I started the engine and we took off. She gasped and scooted closer, her arms squeezing my waist in a death grip. I fucking loved it. And based on the little whimpers and subtle grinding of her hips, she did, too.