Chapter 17
17
MAXINE
I lie on the sheets surrounded by Blood’s scent and our hot, out-of-control sex. I’d managed to keep my game face on during his questions, but it wasn’t easy. He totally threw me when he mentioned the scars on my back. They’d become such a part of me, I’d almost forgotten they were there. Old ones from my parents’ abuse and the newer ones from when I tried to escape Hector’s compound. Another tactic of Hector’s to break the spirit and mind. His sadistic way of controlling the weak and making them weaker.
Hector craves control the way an addict craves crack. Many people throw around the word “narcissist,” but it definitely applies to Hector. Only interested in something if it concerns him. Add dysfunction to a criminal, and it makes him one-minded and deadly.
I startle when my phone vibrates on the bedside table. For a split second, I fantasize it’s Blood telling me he misses me already.
“Hello.”
“I would hope, after all your time spent with the biker, you’d have something of interest for me.”
I sit up in bed and pull the sheet over myself. Stupid move, but I always get the sensation Hector is watching even when it’s logically impossible.
“Like most outlaws, he’s good at keeping secrets.”
“Which means you have nothing.”
“I managed to evade any questions he asked me.”
“But you don’t have anything to report about Blood or the Royal Bastards.”
“He thinks you’re the slime of the earth.” I can’t help the sarcasm. “I think the words he used were ‘motherfucking bastard.’”
Silence. “Someday that smart mouth is going to get you in trouble.”
Too late, I think it already has—but I have to stay on point and close down the other remarks flooding my brain.
“Just remember where your loyalties lie,” Hector warns, then the phone goes dead.
Alliance, allegiance, loyalty, all words Hector throws around without a second thought. Only one problem: they apply to his wants and needs—no one else’s.
I have to focus on my main goal—working on Blood’s emotions. I’d make it sound like helping me would screw with Hector, then sit back and hope his hate for Hector did the rest.
BLOOD
The next day, Diesel ambles into my office smirking at my busted face. “Shit, always wondered what would happen if I missed a church meeting.”
After Bolt’s beatdown last night, I snatched a baggie full of ice, headed for my room over The Tropics, had a shot of Jack, then lit up a blunt. The Jack and the weed eased the pulsing pain in my cheekbone but did nothing for the vivid visual of Maxine’s perfect naked body.
“Too bad Bolt can’t fight anymore, ‘cause he’s got fists like sledgehammers.” I angle my face toward the light.
“Yeah, I can see that.” Diesel laughs around his words, and I shoot him a fisheye.
“Sorry, Boss.”
“You got a reason for being in my office, or you just come in to bust my balls?”
“I wanna go over the lineup for Saturday night. We’ll put the guys up first. The new guy we took on should probably go last. He’s got the biggest following, and for whatever reason, he seems to bring in the females. Shit, last week some of those bitches were ripping off their tops and throwing them in the cage. One of them had him signing her tits with a marker.” Diesel grins. “Best part of fighting—chicks with their tits out.”
“Shit, don’t make me laugh.” I wince. “It hurts too damn much.”
“With the women next. I’m guessing you want Maxine up last since the big money’s gonna be on her. My guess is her fight’s gonna bring in the most scratch.”
“Yeah.” Fuck, I have to get my head together.
“You betting on her Saturday?”
“Never bet on the fighters—you know that—too unpredictable. Just take the cut afterwards, more reliable.”
“I know, but I figured you’d put something on Maxine since it looks like she’s the favorite, and you . . .”
“I what?”
“You’re always hanging around when she’s sparring and working out, so I just figured?—”
“Well, you figured wrong. And while we’re on the subject, what the fuck did you tell Smoke?”
“Nothing, just you seem to be into her.”
“What are you, a matchmaker now?” I knock a cig out of the pack on my desk, light up and draw deep, hoping the nicotine will smooth out the rough edges.
“No big deal, just see the way you look at her. Fuck, she’s hot. There ain’t a guy in the gym who ain’t looking.”
“From now on, keep your thoughts and your eyes to yourself.” I suck in more smoke, but it’s not working. “How are we with security Saturday? There’s gonna be twice as many people, and I don’t want any bullshit goin’ on.”
“I’m on it, Boss. Since Smoke is closing The Tropics for the night to avoid competition, I’m taking the bouncers and bringing them here.”
“Good move. What about the party favors?”
“Manny placed the extra orders of booze and kegs of beer through the club, and I’ve hit up our contacts for the chemical entertainment. Nothing hardcore, just enough to get the party going.”
“Sounds like we got it all together.” I flip my pack of smokes from end to end.
“Then how come you look like you’re gonna jump outta your skin?”
That’s the problem with working side by side with someone every day. Diesel knows all my tells, sometimes before I do. It’s one of the reasons we work well together, but right now, it’s fuckin’ annoying.
“Nothing. Got a lot goin’ on.”
“Other than the fight?”
“Hey, Diesel,” Javi calls from the door. “They need you in the gym.”
Diesel shoots me a look as he leaves. “Just stay cool.”
“Javi.” I wave the kid into my office. “I got something important for you.” I round my desk and pull out some cash.
“Sure, whatever you need.”
“Instead of working at the gym this week, I want you to keep eyes on an apartment on the corner of Calle Coahuila and Revolucion. A two-story building next to the Hotel Hacienda.”
“Coahuila is a street for hookers.”
“Yeah.” Like I need to be reminded of that info. “I want you to tell me if you see Maxine with Hector Rodriquez or anyone else going in that building.” I peel off a hundred and shove it in his hand. “And stay invisible.”
“Okay.” He shoves the money into his pocket and jets out the door.
For the rest of the afternoon, I screw around with my computer, trying to get it to work the way I want. Basically staying in the office because, when I go out on the floor, some kind of magnetic force pulls me to wherever Maxine is sparring or working out.
Now that Diesel is on to me with Maxine, I have to play it down. The last thing I need is these guys talking shit. Some of them are like a bunch of old ladies running their mouths with all the aimless gossip floating around. Especially since I’m trying to work her for information while ignoring whatever the fuck is going on between us.
She lit me up like no woman I’ve ever known, but my street smarts tell me she has secrets—a fuck ton of secrets, plus she is connected to Rodriquez, who I want to take down.
Not good.
Hours later, the gym quiets down. We aren’t a public gym, so we only stay open until six. I purposely kept watch, and when I’m sure the gym is empty, I close down the monitor, lock up my desk, grab my smokes off the desk and head for the door. After last week’s possible break-in, I purposely lock the office door, then shove the keys in my pocket.
I turn when the door to the ladies’ locker room whooshes open.
Fuck. This has to be some kind of test.
“Hey.” Maxine closes the distance between us. “I thought everyone left.”
“Just locking up.”
“I was so sweaty after my cardio.” She runs her hands through her damp hair. “I had to take a quick shower.”
I picture her wet, with messy hair around her shoulders while water droplets pebble on her tits, then sluice down her firm abs and . . . Shit, now I have that visual in my brain along with a swollen dick.
She moves closer and gently grazes my bruised cheek with her fingers. “What happened?”
“I lost track of time.”
Her brow furrows, but I have no intentions of admitting she is the reason I got my face busted up. Stupid male pride, but shit, I’m not ready to be pussy-whipped yet.
“It looks painful.” Her hand lingers on my face.
“Nah, it only hurts when I talk, eat or move my face.” I try to smile and, yeah, that hurts too.
She throws me a dramatic eye roll. “Typical male. Can’t admit you’re in pain.”
Right now, I could admit my dick is in pain. Fuckin’ thing is pushing against the zipper of my jeans, trying to bust out.
She lowers her hand, and I grab her wrist. “Did you know I was still here?”
“No, I thought everyone had left.”
I ease her gym bag off her shoulder and drop it to the floor, then I spin her around until her back hits the office door. I grip her chin and ravage her lips, shoving my tongue deep. Our tongues dance around each other. My body molds to hers as she moans into my mouth. I bury my face in her neck, and the scent of her flowery shampoo surrounds me. My hips jerk, and she groans, so I do it again.
“You feel what the fuck you do to me?” I want her to know how much my dick needs her, even if the rest of me has to play this game out.
After a few more seconds, I pull back slightly. “We gonna do this here?”
My palms are already cupping her ass. One flick of my wrist and those booty shorts would be on the gym floor. Another flick of my wrist and my jeans would be around my hips with my cock primed and ready.
Her gaze flicks over my shoulder, then back to me. “We could but . . .”
“Your place?” I ask the question and wait.
“No,” she spits the word out way too fast.
My guess is Hector has eyes on her apartment at all times, so her answer intrigues me.
“Feel like a ride on my Harley?”
Her eyes widen. “Never been on a motorcycle.”
“First time for everything.”