5. Wraith
Wraith
“ W here am I taking you?” I picked up my helmet and handed it to her. No one but me rode this beauty of a bike, so keeping a spare helmet wasn’t in my repertoire. Which was saying a lot right now. But I’d rather risk it and give her mine to make sure she was safe. I had this weird thought of her riding in another car with a strange man and it made me very angry. Then a stray claim flitted around up there in my head, like it was doing fucking ballet, but it kept floating around saying the anger was because for some reason, I had to be the one to take care of her. Make sure she was safe. Me… no one else. Mine. Better believe I shut that thought process down real fast. I ain’t got time for that type of shit.
She gave me a look that was borderline defiant. Not to be deterred, I crossed my arms across my chest. Two could play this game. After an intense stare down, I chose to give her a nugget of truth. “I was headed to the French Quarter for a meeting but I can take you wherever you need to get home. Although… I don’t advise it after what just happened here.”
Too much to be coincidence has happened lately with me running into those assholes from the Veiled Society. Why were they after her? I should’ve killed them, then that would’ve been the end of that. No… they would only send more to finish the jobs those punks couldn’t do.
“I need to go home. I gotta feed Ms. Beowtch. She’s going to be pissed that I’m late feeding her dinner.” The little spitfire had given in and grabbed the helmet I held out to her. Zaire stared at it like she didn’t know what to do with it or figure out how to put it on. She frowned. I didn’t like seeing her frowning. She turned it around in her hands before she glanced at me. “It’s gonna mess my hair up. I just got it done this morning before work.”
My eyes darted to her dark purple pixie cut. Not gonna lie. It looked really good on her. I liked it. It was different in an edgy type of way, yet it fit her. “It’s beautiful too, but safety first. Here,” I took the helmet from her. She pouted, but let me take the helmet. “Let me help you.”
It wasn’t one of those full helmets. The weather was too hot for one of those. This one was an all black matte half helmet and it looked good on her after I placed the helmet on her head and secured the chin strap.
“I’m sure I look ridiculous.”
“Naw, sugar lips, you look fine. Now, where am I headed?”
She rolled her eyes with a chuckle. “Don’t you have a meeting?”
“My brother can wait.”
She glanced around. “Listen, I don’t want to keep you from anything important. I can find a ride out of here. Get a ride share or something. Unfortunately, I can’t call Nadia or my cousin, Malik, because they’re on a date. But I’ll make it home and be alright.”
The woman was rambling, but when she bit the corner of her bottom lip, damn my dick stiffened. If rambling had her looking like that, then let her continue on. A random thought had me imagining her with that look on her face while on top of me, riding my dick hard, and I knew then I needed to get away from her. Take her home and get her on her knees. The right thing to do would let her catch a ride share. But yeah, that shit wasn’t happening. We still needed to talk.
“I’ll take you home. Never know if them fools have someone watching your place. I mean, they did find you at your place of employment. And I really would like to know what business they had with you. You can come with me to my brother’s restaurant. Get some food while we talk about what happened, then you can go home. Maybe your friend and cousin will be done by then. You shouldn’t be alone. How about that? I’ll even make it up to Ms. Beowtch and gift her with some fresh fish or whatever she may like.”
“Aww, she would love you forever,” Zaire said. “She’s a fickle lady, but she can be bribed. Her favorite is salmon.”
I threw a leg over my bike and sat down, then looked back her. “I know a thing or two about making pussies happy. Now, get your ass on here so we can go.”
The way her eyes darkened only confirmed what I already knew. She wasn’t disinterested. She was far from it. I’d bet a shit load of money that if I swiped a finger between her legs, she would be weeping for it. I recognized her type. It was exactly my type. Which was why I knew we would be dangerous for each other. Too bad dangerous was my middle fucking name.
Zaire inched closer to the bike, then hesitated. “Are you sure this thing is safe? You know statistics and all that says they’re not.”
I could’ve been an asshole and made her get on the bike but she already had a traumatic evening so far. No need to scare the woman. I was only trying to help her. Our eyes met and she didn’t look away. “Do you trust me?”
“I mean… I really don’t know you like that.”
I opened my mouth to say something but she stopped me before a word could come out.
“But you did come and play Captain Save-a-Librarian. So, yeah… I trust you a little.”
“A little is better than nothing. You’re going to love this place. The food is so good it’s gonna make you want to slap ya mama.”
Zaire eased onto the back of my bike and scooted in close. Her arms wrapped around my waist and the sweet scent of her perfume permeated the air between us. I could get used to this. It felt right with her behind me, riding bitch.
“Oh no,” she said. “I don’t want anything that’ll make me want to slap that woman. That’s asking for trouble. I got a black mama for real. I slap her, she gon’ slap me back into nothing. I’m good on all that jazz.”
I started the engine, letting the purr of the machine vibrate between us while drowning out my laugh. The roaring rumble was sweet music to my ears. It always had a way to calm my nerves. The woman behind me was helping too. “Your mama sounds a bit like how my mama was. She didn’t play.” I glanced over my shoulder at her. “Hold on tight, Sugar Lips.”
**
The ride to my brother’s restaurant didn’t take long. Located near Jackson Square, I got us really close to it and parked. She eased off the bike and instantly I missed her arms wrapped around me. Pushing that stray thought to the back of my mind, I surveyed our surroundings as I got of my bike because one could never be too careful. When I felt that we were good, I turned to the woman and undid her chin strap, taking the helmet from her.
She frowned again. “It’s bad isn’t it?”
Her hair was a little flat, but it still looked good and I told her so. “Fluff it out some. Other than that, it’s not bad looking. Still looks good.”
“Ugh… it’s bad then.” She sped over to look in the side mirror. I leaned against the motorcycle and waited while she did what she needed to make it look right. She fussed the entire time, but I found it amusing. After a couple of minutes, Zaire turned to me. “You made me wear that helmet so you gotta get this fixed. I can’t go all week looking like this.”
My gaze roamed over her ample curves. She had tits big enough to palm with each hand. Wide hips. Perfect sized ass that gave enough jiggle when she walked. Lord I could imagine me sliding my dick in between those cheeks and did my best to not adjust myself in front of her. Thick thighs that probably saved lives. Yeah, there was nothing wrong with her at all.
“You look perfectly fine,” I said, voice had gone raspy, and I knew why. Desire was coursing through my veins and it was because of her. Clearing my throat, I asked, “Why can’t you go all week looking like that?”
“Men…” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Of course you wouldn’t understand.”
I laughed, then stood. “Come on. Let’s go inside before the crowd comes.”
Zaire turned and read the name of the restaurant. “ Maison Batiste . This place sounds fancy. I don’t think I’m dressed properly, if that’s the case.”
“Do you see how I’m dressed?” I pointed to myself. I was in my leather cut with Sin City MC and our club skull on the back. My name Wraith was patched on the front. Of course I had on my staple color of black. You know… black jeans. Black t-shirt. Black steel toe boots made for ass kicking. If anyone was underdressed in this place, it would be me. “Who gives a fuck? If someone has a problem with it, they can take it up with the owner.”
Zaire looked at me skeptically. “Who is your brother…”
“Yeah. He’s older by a year.” Her cute mouth formed a perfect O, and thoughts of them wrapped around my dick like that had me looking away for a second. I needed to get laid. “He’s actually blood. Not brother by choice.”
“I see,” she said, then looked back at the restaurant. “Well, if you say I look fine enough to go inside, then why are we standing out here still?”
She was going to keep me on my toes and I liked that. Not wanting to keep her waiting, I went to the door and held it opened for her, beckoning her to go inside. Soon as she passed me by, I adjusted myself before following close on her heels. The hostess recognized me soon as we entered and quickly ushered us to the table reserved for whenever I came in. It was towards the back, near a window that overlooked the square.
“I’ll have Mr. Batiste notified of your arrival,” the hostess said before hightailing it out of there.
With a shrug, I gave my thanks and focused all my attention on the beauty sitting across from me. It would take René a few minutes before coming to the table. Our waiter came along and introduced himself. He was a tall, skinny kid. Blond hair, green eyes, and more than his share of pimples on his face. He was still a high school kid. That was rare for my brother to have someone so young be a part of his staff. Still, he was friendly and was quick about getting us our drinks.
“Welcome to Maison Batiste, Monsieur Batiste. I’m Jean-Pierre,” the waiter said with a bit of an accent and a friendly smile. “Monsieur Batiste sent me over to let you know he will be with you shortly. Something has come up in the kitchen and he can’t leave until it has been taken care of. I can take your drink orders or food orders while you wait. What would you like to drink tonight?”
“I’d take some still water on rocks.” Since I was the one driving, I needed to be responsible. I turned to Zaire. “What would you like? They have a wonderful selection of wines if you like that. If not, the bartenders here are pretty good, considering I’ve trained most of them.”
The woman gave me a strange look. Like she was trying to figure out what I was about. I knew the look oh too well. I know how to fit in whenever and wherever I needed to. It came along with the profession I’ve done most of my life.
“What do you know about wines?” she asked.
“More than you would probably expect just looking at me. You work in a library. Take the advice most librarians give its patrons. Don’t ever judge a book by its cover .”
She leaned back in her chair, with a look of being properly chastised and amused all in one. “Touché.” Focused on Jean-Pierre she turned on her thousand watt grin. The kind that had the kid ears turning red at the tips. I feel ya kid, I get it. Zaire leaned forward, her ample breasts pressed tight against her shirt. Jean-Pierre kept trying to not look but I knew exactly where his gaze was going. Teenage hormones were no joke. She didn’t realize her girls were propped up like they were on center stage. “It’s been a rough night and although wine sounds great, I would really like something dark, strong,” she quickly glanced at me before looking back at him. “And tasty.”
“Bring us the best bottle of whiskey my brother has in this joint,” I said, getting him to look at me instead. I may have understood his staring, but never said I liked it. Besides… I could read in between the lines.
He straightened to his full height, looking a little nervous. “Yes, sir. I’ll have it brought right on out.”
My lips curled into a smirk. “Good.”
Our waiter left our table so fast I could’ve sworn the rubber bottoms of his shoes left skid marks on the floor.
“Why you scare that poor boy like that?” Zaire asked with a chuckle.
“Because if I didn’t, he would still be staring at your tits, and although, I totally understand the fascination because you got a nice rack up there,” I briefly nodded towards her chest. “I really wanted him to stop looking. It’s not that type of establishment.”
She glanced down. “Oh, shit! They got a mind of their own sometimes.” She promptly fixed her shirt, and got the girls back right, then her glaring gaze met mine. “How come you didn’t say anything?”
My smirk had gotten wider. With a shrug, “I wasn’t going to complain about the show.”
Zaire tsked. “Ugh…men! Why are you such a brute?”
“I am what I am, Sugar Lips.” I leaned forward in her direction, getting really close to her. Zaire’s breath hitched and her pupils slightly dilated. “Now, you gonna tell me what all that was about back at the library? I didn’t forget that we needed to talk. It’ll be a minute before my brother comes out here. We have time. Why did they want you? Or know who you are? You into some bad shit and running?”
“First off, the name is Zaire, not Sugar Lips. At least get that much right.”
“I just call it like I see it.”
“What is that even supposed to mean? Ugh, anyway, secondly, I don’t know why they wanted me. I had never seen those men before in my life.”
“And I’m surprised you saw them today. Those types usually kill first and ask questions later.”
“How would you know?”
“Because I just do. Now answer my question truthfully. I can tell when I’m being lied to. You know exactly why they wanted you. I suggest you tell me, since I was the one to save you, Ms. Librarian.”
Luck must have been on her side because even though she opened her mouth to probably argue with me, she still didn’t get to say anything. Because it was at that point my brother showed up with our drinks and handed them to us.
“Rainier, it’s about time you showed up,” René said before pulling a chair out to sit. His gaze hungrily roamed over Zaire, then looked at me with a raised brow.
I knew the look and didn’t like it. My brother had a reputation with the women in this city, and I’d be damned if he tried that shit with her. The calm yet deadly tone of my words that came out of my mouth surprised even me because I’ve never used it on him before. “Je vais te briser tous les os si tu la regarde encore comme ?a.”
Apparently, it didn’t faze him. In fact, it caused René to burst out laughing. Patrons turned to look at us, but René didn’t care. We were both the same in that regard. He tilted his head slightly and said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Elle c’est la votre?”
“Oui.” I took a sip of my water. Glanced her way before meeting my brother’s eyes. I was pretty damn sure she wasn’t understanding our conversation. So, I didn’t have a problem saying the next words out of my mouth. “Elle sera.”
My brother leaned back in his chair and shook his head. Still with a wide grin on his face, he spoke in English this time. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
Zaire was still in shock as the conversation registered with her. “Wait… you speak French?”
“Something like that, ma chérie,” I said, amused because, like I had just said to her earlier, never judge a book by its cover.
“Our mother was a transplant from France,” René told her. “Our father was a local boy she fell in love with on her visit to New Orleans. You could say it was love at first sight for both of them. She never went back home after that. She taught us many things… her native tongue was the first language we learned as children growing up.”
Zaire took a sip of her drink before looking my way. “Well, I’ll be damned. Aren’t you just full of surprises.”
“You have no idea,” I said.