CHAPTER 5
EMERY
Do those cheesy disguises people put on in movies—like a hat, trench coat, and sunglasses—work? It would be too late for me to use one now, all things considered, but I really wish I knew if they worked and then could produce them out of my ass if the answer is yes. Since I don’t know and don’t have those things, the only thing I can do is scrunch my shoulders closer to my ears, as if that will help, and hunch down into the chair I’m sitting in.
Because we’re not in an office meeting with a PI. Nope. Aunt Dot, in her infinite wisdom, brought me to the Devil’s Saints MC clubhouse.
I was shocked as hell when she picked me up from the shop after work and then drove to the clubhouse like it’s fucking normal for her. As she gave a wide smile to the man watching the gate, I have no doubt that my jaw was hanging so far open you could see my still intact tonsils.
There was not a hint of trepidation in her voice when she told the guy, “I’m friends with Apostle and I work with his old lady, Sioux.”
Then he let us in. Without any more questions being asked.
I hissed, “What the fuck, Aunt Dot?”
“Language,” she admonished me with a click of her tongue added in for good measure. Then she shook her little shoulders like she was hot shit and informed me, “Just like I told the nice young man at the gate, I know one of the brothers here. His road name is Apostle,” she informed me as an aside like it was perfectly understandable that she just used the term ‘road name’. Then she chirped, “He’s one of the club’s enforcers.”
I made a strangled sound in the back of my throat that had her looking at me like I was the one who wasn’t right in the head. Yeah, I was clearly not the problem and I’m definitely not the problem now.
Because Aunt Dot is sitting at a table in the large common room of the warehouse which has been renovated for the purposes of the DSMC without a care in the world. Did something happen to me this morning and I’m dreaming? Or someone uploaded the wrong program for the virtual reality simulator I’m stuck in?
Both feel like much more plausible explanations as to why I’m sitting in the DSMC clubhouse right now while waiting for Apostle, his woman, or someone else to show up and talk to us. Let’s not even touch on the fact that I know Loot, who is probably around here somewhere. Nope, I’m too busy sending up little prayers that I don’t see Kade.
That’s the very last fucking thing I need.
I lean toward my aunt while still trying to keep myself as small as possible and hiss, “Who are you right now?”
Aunt Dot looks at me, a quizzical expression on her face as she takes in my posture and shifty eyes. She doesn’t look uncomfortable at all. In fact, she looks like she’s happier than a pig in shit. Her shoulders are back, and she’s taken more than one drink from the beer sitting in front of her.
A beer which was delivered by a very young man wearing a cut with ‘Prospect’ on the front. Oh, and he winked at her. Fucking winked.
What did my Aunt hussy do? She tittered like a schoolgirl and chided him, “I’m far too much woman for you, young man.”
That little quip was followed up with a wink of her own. A wink!
As if I wasn’t wishing for the ground to swallow me up before that little display because of the fear of seeing Kade. Then I had to witness that little display.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Aunt Dot waves off my question with a twist of her wrist in the air like she’s simply swatting away an annoying fly.
I keep my voice low, disbelief coloring the question, “Have you been here before?”
“No,” she admits and looks around at a few of the men who are hanging out in the bar area, “but if I had realized there were more men who look just as good, if not better, than Apostle, you better believe that I would have insisted on coming by sooner.”
I blink a few times and breathe out, “What?”
She gives me a disapproving look full of judgement. “Don’t tell me you’re going to judge the men of this club, Emery,” there’s a sharp edge to her tone. “I’ve spent the entire school year watching a man who loves his woman deeply take care of and put her first.” When all I do is open and close my mouth, unsure of what to say to that, she fills me in. “Sioux is a wonderful woman who teaches at my school. Right before the year started, there was some sort of incident, and she was injured.” I narrow my eyes, questions briming inside of me, but she waves them away before I can voice a single one. “I don’t know the details and I don’t want to. What I do know is that Apostle came to me and asked me to make sure she was doing okay on a daily basis when she was given the all clear to come back to work. It was clear he would rather be at her side but couldn’t. Not that she would have allowed it,” she giggles a little with her words. “We became friends,” she adds with a shrug.
“You became friends?” My words are measured as my mind whirls, “With one of the enforcers of the DSMC?”
Before she can answer, a deep voice from behind us has me jumping, “She did. Mrs. Bisby is one classy lady and I’m grateful for her friendship.”
I turn slowly and then crane my head back so I can look up…and up…at the man standing behind me. He’s fucking huge and I’m not just talking about height. I also doubt he has an ounce of fat on him.
Are my eyes bugging out of my head right now? It feels like they are.
The man smirks at me before Aunt Dot practically tackles him to the floor as she hugs him.
“Holy shit,” I whisper.
Aunt Dot doesn’t look my way as she chastises me, “Language, young lady.”
I shake my head at her even though she can’t see me as the giant of a man, who must be Apostle, laughs. And let’s not be deluded about it—he’s laughing at me. I just know it.
“It’s good to see you, Mrs. Bisby,” the man says as he pats her back gently.
Aunt Dot pulls back and grins up at the man. “Dot, please, since we’re not at the school.” She gives him another squeeze before she steps back. “Normally I’m stuck behind the desk and can’t hug you properly. This is a nice change of pace.”
He chuckles, the sound gorgeous, but it doesn’t do anything for me. Not like the way Kade chuckled. I shake off the memory and remind myself to be on guard as a gorgeous, blond woman walks up with a huge smile on her face.
“Mrs. Bisby,” she greets my aunt. There’s a tease in her voice, “Didn’t I just see you earlier today?”
My aunt laughs and nods. “Sioux, please call me Dot when we’re not working. Mrs. Bisby makes me feel too old.” She leans closer to the woman and stage whispers, “Especially when I’m surrounded by so many fine male specimens.”
I choke on fucking air at her words which turns into a small coughing fit. When Sioux and Apostle look my way I wave off the clear concern written across their faces. “Sorry,” I gasp out, “my aunt just caught me off guard with her hussy ways.”
Aunt Dot rolls her eyes and huffs out a breath as Sioux’s smile widens. There’s a kindness in her eyes that sets me instantly at ease. Maybe in another life, one where the man I thought I connected with instantly didn’t disappear without a trace, we might have been friends.
Oh well.
I swallow hard and take a sip from the soda in front of me. Honestly, I might act scandalized by my aunt, and I am, but I’m also glad that she’s no longer stuck in the depression she was shrouded in after she lost my uncle. That was a hard time in her life, and we leaned on each other since it wasn’t all that long after my parents disowned me.
It’s been a few years now and if I thought a biker would be the right fit for my aunt, I might encourage her. As it is, I’m not so sure.
Well, hell, talk about projecting.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you, Dot,” Apostle’s voice pulls me from the impending thoughts about Kade which were barreling down on me, “but is there something you need?”
Sioux jumps in quickly, “If you’re just here for a beer, you’re more than welcome.”
“Of course,” Apostle assures my aunt who has an amused smile on her face.
“While I’m thankful for the drink,” Aunt Dot assures them, “I am here for something else.”
Apostle’s face turns serious and there is a part of me that is kind of afraid of the man. The expression on his face promises violence and it’s clear why he’s an enforcer for the club. He glances my way before focusing all his intensity on my aunt. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”
“I need some help in regards my other niece, Jennifer,” she informs Apostle.
He gives a nod before kissing Sioux’s temple and murmuring something to her softly. She sighs softly before shooting my aunt and then myself a look that screams ‘men’. After a brief hug for my aunt and a small wave in my direction, she moves toward the other side of the room.
Apostle calls out, “Lucifer. Prodigal.”
I turn slightly to find two men walking into the room from a hallway. It’s clear with one look that they’re father and son. Oh, and both are hot as hell. Even though one of them is older, that doesn’t take away from the power rolling off him or the magnetism.
Fucking hell, is a requirement for joining the club being hot? Loot and Kade are the other brothers I’ve gotten close to before. Clearly, I’ve been missing out.
My thoughts must be written all over my face because Aunt Dot shoots me a wink that has me slinking down even more into my chair.
The older man inclines his head slightly, his voice an intonation filled with authority, “Apostle. How can I help you?”
“Prez, this,” Apostle grips Aunt Dot’s shoulders and leads her back to her seat and helps her to sit, “is Mrs. Bisby. She works at the front desk at the school where Sioux works,” there’s a weight to his words along with a healthy dose of respect.
The younger of the two, who I can now see is Prodigal—and the VP—from his cut, grabs a fifth chair from close by as the three big men settle with us around the table. It’s almost stifling, but also thrilling in a sick, twisted sort of way.
What is wrong with me?
Lucifer and Prodigal are both wearing wedding bands and I’ve already met the woman Apostle is head over heels for. It’s not like I’m interested in any of them way.
Nope. My heart and body have decided there is only one man for us. Too bad he disappeared on me three months ago.
“Thank you for keeping an eye on our girl,” Lucifer’s voice is full of gratefulness. Apostle lets out a small growl that has me biting back a smile. All the older man does is shrug one shoulder like he doesn’t give a single fuck about Aposlte’s reaction. I’m sure he doesn’t. “What can we help you with?” He glances over at me, his eyes intently focusing on my body language before asking me, “Are you in some sort of trouble, honey?”
That has me sitting up straighter and I almost groan at how silly I’ve been acting. Does that stop me from saying one more little prayer about avoiding Kade? Not even a little bit.
“Not me,” I let him know, “my sister.”
Aunt Dot nods, her eyes sad and the expression on her face solemn. “Jennifer has always been a wild child,” she starts off her explanation about why we’re here and how long it’s been since she’s heard from my sister.
I kind of zone out a little as she talks. Not because I don’t care. I do care about my sister. Hell, I even love the woman. It’s just not easy for me because I made peace with the person Jennifer is a long time ago.
Jennifer is the embodiment of the Maya Angelou quote ‘When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.’
I didn’t believe the first time because she’s my sister. I thought I was supposed to look past all the bad because of the bond we have forged in blood. I’ve learned that blood can betray you. Which is exactly what Jen did.
I do hope she’s okay, but I’m here more for my aunt than for my sister. Sad, but true.
I’m pulled from the memories of my sister—the spat words designed to wound, the lies she’d tell our parents, the way I found her fucking my boyfriend—when the atmosphere in the room changes. Goosebumps cover my skin and the fine hair on my arms stand on end.
Fuck. He’s here.
I want to look around, but I force myself to stare at my aunt. I don’t even look at the three men, who are wearing matching stoically sympathetic expressions, with more than my peripheral vision.
“Emery?”
I jolt a little and snap my gaze toward the man who just called my name. Not because it was Kade. Nope. Because it’s Loot.
I give him a small smile and murmur, “Hi, Loot.”
Since my client, and kind of friend, is standing next to the man who stole my heart three months ago in the span of only a few hours, I don’t miss the way Kade narrows his eyes and looks between Loot and myself. Loot doesn’t notice, but someone did because one of the men at the table with us mutters, “Well, shit.”
Kade’s voice is full off accusation which isn’t warranted at all, “How the fuck do you know Emery?”
Loot’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and he opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, I look over to Lucifer. The man’s eyes are practically dancing with amusement. Yeah, I’m not interested in being their entertainment.
I grit out through my teeth, “Are you going to help find my sister? If not, then I think it’s time for me to take Aunt Dot home.”
Lucifer leans back in his chair like he’s thinking about it, and I glance over at my aunt who is staring at Kade in a way that has my skin crawling. There’s no interest there, but she definitely is studying him like he’s a puzzle and she’s about to solve him.
Which means she’ll solve me, and that shit cannot happen.
The need to run, which feels like fire licking at my heels, is almost overwhelming.
“I fucking asked you a question, Loot,” Kade growls.
“What the fuck is your problem, brother,” Loot spits before he looks back over at me as I sit stiffly and refuse to look back in Kade’s direction. “Oh,” he holds out that one word, “I get it.” I glance in their direction and glare at Loot, but all he does is flash me a grin and cross his arms over his chest. “Emery is an amazing tattoo artist. She just finished that back piece not long ago.”
Understanding washes over Kade’s features and then he’s looking over at me with huge puppy dog eyes. And with the aquamarine color of his eyes already, I’m practically melting. Which is bad. Very fucking bad.
I straighten my spine and look at Lucifer with expectation. Thankfully, he doesn’t take offense. At least, I hope he doesn’t and the smile on his face tells me I’m good.
But then he calls out, “Driller, come on over here.”
It takes everything in me not to sink down into my chair and slide right under the table.
The need becomes even worse when Aunt Dot leans toward me with a sly grin on her face. If she’s trying to whisper, she’s doing a shit job of it as she says, “Please tell me you took him for a ride. And I’m not talking about on his bike.”
The men all bark out laughs, but the only thing I can do is close my eyes and hope that when I open them again that I’m anywhere but in the DSMC clubhouse.