CHAPTER FOUR
Three days later
– LIVI –
I take a moment to swallow the sip of coffee I took to let my mind process what my supervisor, Akari Sakura, just told me. We have regular check-ins to make sure I’m okay during this undercover operation. Sometimes we have to meet face-to-face as well, like now.
This morning, I received a text message asking me if I was up for a cup of coffee. Akari is functioning as my friend in case we have eyes on us. Undercover means I need to stay in my role at all times.
Which is why we’re sitting in a booth across from one another at a practically empty diner. It’s way too early for breakfast, so we only ordered coffee. Good thing too when I’m glancing at a dead man’s face, all carved up.
“It’s Rainer’s signature kill,” I whisper, though the only other person in the diner is a waitress who is currently in the kitchen.
Akari leans back, but keeps her voice down when she says, “The two vertical knife slashes from the forehead to the cheeks is the typical indication for snake eyes. Paired up with the bullet to the head and it’s the modus operandi of Rainer Rhyland.”
“Rainer killed Ruben Arturo, part of the Feliza Cartel. Why the hell would he kill one of them, and let everyone know he did it by leaving his signature?” I murmur as I glance at the photographs. “Doesn’t make sense unless the deal went to shit…which means they are at war.”
“I know it’s a big risk, however, you need to get in there. Kayden only has eyes inside and no damn intel.” Akira looks at me expectedly.
I have no clue what she wants me to say, but I do know one thing. “Kayden is a prospect, he’s not allowed in church until he becomes a member. There is no way he’ll have details as to why and how when it comes to club business. He shouldn’t be asking them either or they’ll get suspicious.”
Akira bobs her head and places her forearms on the table sitting between us. “Yet you told me you were able to entertain a bunch of them at your place the other day. You should bake muffins and bring some to their clubhouse.”
I can barely keep a “what the fuck” expression off my face. Going undercover is putting your own life at stake to get justice. The task force is counting on me to do my damn job.
“Fine,” I grumble and shove the tablet in her direction.
There’s no need to stare at those photographs any longer. Throwing back the last sip of coffee, I slide out of the booth.
“If I can get some information, I’ll let you know,” I tell her and walk out of the diner.
Straddling my bike, I grab the helmet and put it on. The ride back to my temporary home right next to the clubhouse gives me enough time to think about a plan. Well, other than baking muffins and bringing them to the clubhouse. For one, I’m going to make damn sure the guys I met the other night will be there.
I come to a stop at an intersection. The rumbling of a bike coming up from behind catches my attention right before it comes to a stop next to me. Slowly, I turn my head and feel the corner of my mouth twitch when I meet Thorsten’s green eyes. My stomach flips when I watch his eyes crinkle, knowing the helmet he’s wearing is hiding his smirk.
My stomach flips and I quickly turn my attention in front of me. The light turns green and I hit the throttle. It’s a short ride from here to my house and the weird reaction of my body causes me to act reckless and actually race down the street as if my life depends on it.
Adrenaline is pumping through my veins and it’s been a long damn time since I’ve felt as alive as I do now. Eight years ago, I lost my grandparents and my mother in a car crash. From that moment on I was alone on this fucked-up planet.
Or so I thought…until a woman showed up, along with a guy, telling me they are my aunt and uncle. The brother and sister of my mother, and how my grandparents weren’t the biological parents of my mother. Quite the little bomb drop while I was preparing for my first undercover job. Need I mention, my newfound family by blood are all part of different motorcycle clubs?
The kind of people my grandparents hated. It’s basically why I followed in my grandfather’s footsteps; law enforcement to put those outlaws behind bars. I have very strong…opinions. I basically had been influenced by the judgmental state of mind of my grandfather. Though, it turns out “the truths” about certain events he told me turned out to be lies.
I’ve seen the evidence. The truth exposed doesn’t change my past it can’t, and I’m left to deal with it. I do know one thing…I wouldn’t be here right now if my mother wasn’t taken…kidnapped…as a baby. The grandparents I thought were mine were actually not my blood. They lost their baby and my grandfather thought it was right to take the newborn of the president of Areion Fury MC and tell those parents their baby girl died…while he raised her as his own.
It was probably his own justification to keep her safe from a violent life, growing up in a motorcycle club. My mother never knew her real parents, and I don’t know how to feel about that.
A touch on my arm breaks through my thoughts and it causes me to rip my arm away and am about to throw a punch when I barely manage to stop in time. Shit. I shouldn’t be thinking about my personal shit when I’m undercover. A slip of the mind can get me killed in the blink of an eye.
Great way to screw things up.
“Fuck,” I grunt and get off my bike.
“Everything okay?” Thorsten asks.
Throwing half a glance over my shoulder, I keep walking toward my door when I tell him, “Dandy as shit.”
“Yeah, thought so,” he says with a thick undertone of disbelief in his voice.
Anger gets the best of me, and I get right in his face when I snarl, “I’m having a bad day, okay. Family stuff you wouldn’t understand. Like…finding out dark secret dead relatives which literally changes the past as I’ve known it irrevocably. Him dead, and the past unable to change it basically means I can’t do shit about it. Hell, it makes me so damn angry I might have killed him with my bare hands if he wasn’t dead already. I mean, how can one single person choose to alter the lives of so many others? It’s like robbing people of their own choice and forcing a different future down someone’s throat who doesn’t even know what the fuck he just swallowed. Gah, people fucking suck.”
He reaches out to cup the back of my neck while he leans forward and connects our foreheads.
His voice is raw when he tells me, “Breathe, Livi. None of this sounds like it’s on you. Decisions should always be your own, no matter what. No one should rob you of a future that isn’t yours and lies have a way of bubbling to the surface like farts hitting you in the face.”
I snort out a laugh while he releases a husky chuckle. We stare into each other’s eyes and it’s as if life itself hits pause. It feels as if my body forces me to take a moment. A moment where I can’t breathe and have to listen to my heart while it waits with the next beat until my brain catches up to acknowledge the chemistry between me and the man standing before me.
Thorsten squeezes my neck and pulls back. He releases a curse and to my surprise brushes his lips against my forehead.
“You should go inside. And don’t fucking race your bike like a motherfuckin’ madman,” he growls.
I narrow my eyes and stomp to my door to open it.
Turning, I watch Thorsten straddle his bike. “Hey, Thorsten.” He gives me his attention, so I flip him off and state, “I’m not a madman, I’m a motherfuckin’ madwoman.”
There’s a grin on my face as I step into the house and shut the door while I hear his bark of laughter. I don’t know what it is about this man, but he sure has a pull on me. It’s like dancing on a cord where the balance rocks my core as I curse from the jolt while riding high on the adrenaline rush.
I knew going undercover was going to be dangerous and risky. Being prepared is everything and why I read information, watched surveillance tapes, but everything only gives you the basics. Nothing could have prepared me for the chemistry created by two people the way Thorsten sparks a flame low in my belly.
It sure makes my job harder, but in the end? It’s my damn job and I’m going to see it through…no matter what.