Chapter Seven
Wren
Day four of Operation Find the Truth About Rocky, and all I had to show for it was three empty cups from Perkatory for every day I’d been working, and an entire pack of cinnamon gum chewed to oblivion.
OK, so maybe there were more Perkatory cups than three a day because I had a serious addiction.
Also, I had a sore ass from sitting in my car for hours and a new zit forming on my chin from stress or sugar. Or both.
I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, staring through the windshield at the faded brick storefront across the street.
Inside, Rocky nursed his usual breakfast. Black coffee and two plain bagels.
Who ate plain bagels? If he hadn’t given me the most fantastic sex of my life, I’d have to seriously reconsider being his friend over plain bagels.
I didn’t think he knew I was following him but I knew I needed to be careful.
Honey would have lost her shit if she saw me now.
The night she wrung the truth out of me, she’d made me swear I’d do recon before contacting Rocky again.
Fine. I was nothing if not a woman of my word.
But if I’d known how fucking boring stakeouts actually were, I’d have lied and taken my chances with Ghost or Bloody Jack.
At least they’d get results. They’d also get Rocky dead and I didn’t want him dead. At least not yet.
From my current vantage point, I watched Rocky through the coffee shop window.
And yes, Perkatory was aptly named. The coffee was the strongest in the entire state.
And the most sought after. Shit was heaven and hell, and I loved every glorious drop of it.
He sat with his back to the wall, never facing the entrance.
Every so often, he glanced up from his phone to scan the room.
I saw him check the parking lot a few times, too.
If he made me, he didn’t show it. Maybe he just looked over his shoulder out of habit, or maybe I was better at surveillance than I thought.
Or maybe he liked being watched and knew I had him in my sights.
Crap. The memory of those hands on my body, pinning my wrists, teeth nipping my throat, flashed behind my eyes. I bit down hard on my lip, willing the distraction away.
I watched as Rocky paid for his breakfast and nodded to the waitress, a pretty brunette who gave him a grin and bumped his arm with her hip as she winked at him and swished her ass as she left his table.
I clenched my jaw. I was not the jealous type, but something about the way the waitress flipped her hair and bit her lip all coy and shit made my blood pressure spike.
I told myself it didn’t matter. I wasn’t here for a date.
I was here for answers. And, yeah, to see if I was nothing more than a means to an end for him.
Rocky headed for the exit. If I payed attention and noticed he didn’t let his gaze rake over the flirting waitress, fuck anyone who called me out.
I ducked my head, slouching down in the driver’s seat as he walked past the car.
He paused, just for a second, scanning the parking lot.
I kept my face hidden, only glancing up through the gap in my sunglasses.
When his eyes swept past, I had the distinct, almost physical sensation he knew I was there.
But he kept walking, climbing onto his Harley and revving the engine and taking off.
I followed him to a park near the river where he took off on a run. Great. I wasn’t that dedicated. So I sat in the car while he ran the loop around the park. Several times.
I left after another hour, bored to tears, and grabbed lunch at a taco truck nearby.
By sunset, I was ready to scream. The man didn’t seem to have a life. I couldn’t pin him down to being affiliated with the Copperheads, but I knew he was hiding something. No one had this little contact with people unless they were into something they didn’t want anyone to know about.
Finally, I wandered back to Outlaw’s Rest where I knew Rocky would end up sooner or later.
Only one night out of the five I’d been following him had he not gone to the bar where I’d met him.
I hadn’t been prepared for him not to show and so I hadn’t followed him.
Which should have taught me a lesson but steak outs were boring!
Sure enough. Rocky showed up at ten, stayed until midnight, then left and drove back to his apartment.
Always alone. I might have been more concerned about who he came back with than I was about him being part of the Copperheads.
Stupid? Probably. I kind of wanted a reason to write him off, but the man seemed to be exactly what he looked like.
Though he appeared comfortable with the MC culture in general, Rocky didn’t affiliate with anyone.
But if he was a true Lone Wolf, I’d eat my shorts.
Rocky wasn’t an independent, but I couldn’t find out who he was with.
Not on my own. I could call in help, but that would mean involving Bound in Blood and I didn’t want to bring the club's attention to him unless I knew for sure he was guilty. So I was literally chasing my tail.
I knew I couldn’t last long without contacting him, though.
Especially when he texted me again the next day as I watched him take his afternoon jog.
He’d been on the other side of the park, but I had a clear view of the trail from the parking lot.
I think the trail had been designed that way to make it easy to spot someone.
Now, I sat outside fucking Perkatory again, watching while Rocky ate his bagels with his coffee. And smiled at something the barista said. I wanted to kill the bitch on principle. The only thing that saved him was the fact he texted me again.
Sorry if I scared you off. Not trying to be a creeper. Just remember I’m here if you need me. In any sense of the word.
A devil emoji followed his text.
“Fucking hell, Wren, just admit you want to see him again.” My voice echoed in the empty car.
I stared at the message thread with Rocky, thumb hovering over the screen.
I could make excuses all day, but the fact was, I missed him.
Missed the way he looked at me, like he could see straight through to the center of me and didn’t flinch.
Missed the way his hands felt on my skin, and the way he.
Hard to believe I’d been so totally enthralled by the man after only one fucking night.
I gave in. Cause, why the hell not?
You busy? Meet me at Outlaw’s Rest. One hour.
I hit send before I could chicken out, then tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and grinned at my own stupidity.
Honey would kill me. Ghost would kill Rocky if he found out.
But I’d never know what tied me to him so closely if I didn’t get close to him.
Maybe I wasn’t such a badass after all. Maybe I was just a sucker for punishment.
But at least I was done hiding.
I’ll be there, baby.
Why did I feel so ridiculously happy? I felt like a junky trying to decide if she was going to give in and take a hit. Once the decision was made, the course of action set in motion, a kind of euphoria stole over me. The high before the high. A conditioned response.
A half hour later, I pulled up outside Outlaw’s Rest. On my Harley this time instead of that beat up Pinto I’d taken to driving. Thing looked like shit, but I loved her. I might also have a sadistic streak when it came to challenging the garage crew of Bound in Blood to keep her running for me.
The bar hadn’t changed since the Valentine’s Ball.
Red and pink streamers drooped from the ceiling, a few paper hearts still stuck to the mirrored back wall behind the liquor bottles.
Someone, probably one of the old ladies, had swapped out the vases of fake roses for actual wildflowers, which were already brown and shedding petals onto the sticky tabletops.
I wondered if anyone had the balls to tell the old ladies their decorations made the place look like a funeral parlor in a strip mall.
Normally the decorations only lasted until the party was over.
But, I’d heard the owner had a new old lady.
I’d also heard he was more than slightly afraid of her.
Rocky was already there, hunched over a whiskey at the far end of the bar.
I spotted him instantly. Even seated, he looked like the guy you’d pick to lead a prison riot.
Except, then he caught my reflection in the mirror, and for a second his expression lit up like I was the one person in his world he wanted to see the most. Then he smoothed it out, went back to stoic.
I liked that I could get a reaction out of him even after playing the world’s shittiest hard-to-get.
I took a slow walk to the bar, tracing my fingertips along the edge of a high-top on the way.
Two of the regulars gave me a once-over.
One of them, a guy whose entire wardrobe was camo and not ironically, said, “Hey, Wren.” I flipped him the bird and kept moving.
Guy sagged in disappointment. Not the first time we’d repeated the scene. Probably wouldn’t be the last.
I slid onto the stool next to Rocky, close enough to smell the whiskey on his breath. He wore a black T-shirt under the jacket with no visible patches.
“Told you I’d see you again,” Rocky said, his voice a husky growl.
“Sorry I took so long,” I said, trying to keep it casual. “Got caught up in some things.”
He didn’t press. “You drinking?”
I nodded. “Whiskey, rocks.”
“You got a ride home?” He raised one eyebrow in question.
“Back off, sunshine.” I grinned at him to take the sting out of my words.
“You ain’t my daddy. I know how to get home when I drink.
I also know to quit at least an hour before I plan on leaving, and to eat during that hour, even if I have already.
Besides, Honey’s got my back. If I get too blitzed, she’ll come get me. ”