Chapter 8
eight
ISABELLE
I wore the pleather again. It was the only skirt I had that was anything near edgy. I wasn’t a huge shopper, so apart from my second-hand disguise haul, I mostly wore whatever my mother pressed on me when I went to my parents’ monthly brunch at my childhood home.
This time, however, I wore a plaid shirt unbuttoned to mid-sternum and tucked into the skirt, and completed the look with a black lacy bra peeping out of the shirt. I didn’t have much to fill a bra with, so I might as well make the most of it.
It was similar to an outfit I’d seen one of the Hounds’ girlfriends wearing the last time I’d come, and honestly, it had looked hot as hell. I wasn’t sure I was pulling it off half as well as that curvy queen had, but there was only so much I could do with a ruler-shaped body.
The drive over to the bar didn’t take long enough for my fears to overtake my curiosity.
I parked at the far edge of the lot and gave myself a pep talk. Maybe I’d get lucky and Cole wouldn’t even be there, just some random minion I could sweet-talk for some information.
I walked in and paused in the doorway. Damn it. I’d been hoping to see Ronnie behind the bar again, but to my disappointment, I recognized Asher Martino, Eve’s brother.
He raised a dark eyebrow at me as I approached the bar, ignoring the fan club of women sitting at the far end of the bar and watching him dreamily.
Sure, Asher was hot. He was a tall hockey player, with dark good looks courtesy of his South American heritage, and the confidence of a man who knows he’s already met the love of his life and wants for nothing.
Luckily, the women were keeping their distance, as his girlfriend, Winter, wasn’t someone to mess with.
“Isabelle, I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, getting me a beer. “You meeting someone?”
“Maybe, if I get lucky,” I quipped and slid onto the barstool.
Asher frowned. “You’re not here on a date, or something?”
I shook my head.
Asher narrowed his eyes at me. “Then why here? There are plenty of bars in town that are more your speed.”
“You don’t know my speed. Maybe I felt like a walk on the wild side.
” I attempted a smile, but I felt like Ash could see right through me.
Damn it. Why did he have to be here? He would tell Eve, who’d tell Lily, and she’d tell her boyfriend, and it would get back to Marcus.
As far as I could tell, Marcus had absolutely nothing to do with MC business.
He was too busy being a hotshot hockey goalie and punching above his weight in the fiancée league.
Still, he wouldn’t like me sniffing around his brother’s bar. He wouldn’t like it one bit—he’d told me so himself in the past.
“Honestly, I just felt like going out, and didn’t want to see anyone I knew,” I told Ash, hoping my tone hinted at drama with a guy at HHU.
Ash stared at me a long moment and then shrugged. “Ok, whatever floats your boat, but be careful around here, ok? This isn’t a frat party. These guys aren’t drunk twenty-one-year-olds.”
“I know, dad, don’t worry about me,” I sighed, and nodded to another patron along the bar who was trying to get Ash’s attention.
“Did Eve tell you about Marcus’ surprise party next week?”
“What?” I was looking around and trying to see if I recognized anyone. “Oh, yeah, I’ll be there.”
Ash nodded. “Good, now, try not to get in trouble until I get back.”
He shot me another warning look and then ambled down the bar, taking his sweet time to get to the next customer.
I took a pull of my beer and tried to pry my shoulders from under my ears. Ronnie not working meant I had no one to chat with, either. I knew Asher well, but I was better friends with his sister than him. Besides, he wasn’t really a small-talk kind of guy.
I finished my beer quickly, figuring I needed the courage. I was determined to get some intel tonight, and for that, I was going to have to do more than just sit at the bar.
Asher reappeared as I set down my empty bottle. “Another?”
“Um, yeah, I’ll take a rum and Coke actually,” I replied, knowing beer wasn’t going to make enough of a dent in my nerves.
“I can get that for her,” a man said, sliding onto the stool beside me.
Asher looked at me for confirmation, and I shook my head. The last thing I needed tonight was some guy acting like I owed him something because he’d bought me a drink.
“Thanks, but I don’t let strangers buy me drinks—no offense,” I added.
“Maybe that’s why you looked lonely,” the guy said, running his hand through his slicked-back hair.
“I’m not,” I replied, not even looking at him.
He laughed like I had just said something cute. “That can always change. I’m Ryan, by the way. We’re not strangers now.”
I sighed and turned to face him. He was wearing a worn leather jacket over a stained tank. He had a patchy goatee and dark wandering eyes. I was getting hit on here at The Clutch in two nights more than I’d been hit on in my entire life.
“I’m not interested in meeting anyone tonight, I’m just here for a drink,” I said.
“You can’t tell me that you came here to drink alone,” he continued, not taking the hint.
“She’s not alone, Ryan,” Ash said, appearing back in front of me and placing my drink on the bar. “She’s my sister’s friend.” Nothing more was said, but it felt like a line was drawn at that moment. Ash stood in front of me and stared Ryan down across the bar.
Ryan held up his hands in mock surrender, vacating the stool next to me.
“Your loss, pumpkin,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He wandered away as I took a sip of my rum and Coke.
“Thanks for that,” I said to Ash.
He nodded, watching Ryan go. “Like I said, the guys here don’t play around. It’s not a fun place for a woman alone.”
“Asher, stop scaring her away!” a youthful voice said, and once again, the stool beside me filled up.
This time with a familiar face: Finn. His energy, reminiscent of the eagerness of a labrador puppy and about as much finesse, was back in full force.
I could only guess Cole wasn’t around tonight to rain on his parade.
“I was wondering if you’d come back. Do you remember me from the other night?” he asked, giving me a hopeful grin.
“Sure I do, you’re the young one,” I teased him.
“I am not!” he protested.
“Well, you’re younger than most of the guys in here,” I said.
“You’re pretty young too… anyway, does that bother you?” he asked, giving me a flirtatious grin. I nearly choked on my drink.
I coughed a few times, struggling to get my breath. Rosie’s son was going to be a real charmer when he was older. For now, it was just awkward.
“Your name was Belle, right?” Finn forged on.
Ash frowned at me. I coughed awkwardly again and came clean before he could interrupt. “Actually, it’s Isabelle.”
Finn amped up the charm. “That fits you.” He leaned even closer.
“And Finn fits you. Seems like you’re pretty at home here. The boss lets you hang out, even though you’re not twenty-one?” I asked. I needed to get back to trying to get info from him.
Finn grinned, proud to be in the know. “The boss? Yeah. Cole owns the place and runs the club.” His smile slipped.
“There’s no chance he’ll let me forget it.
” This kid definitely had some pent-up anger toward the man in charge, and I could use that.
Probably because he was going around and embarrassing him when he was trying to look cool in front of the ladies.
“Runs the club?” I asked, playing dumb.
Finn puffed up his chest. “The Harbor Hounds. This is our bar, and Cole is in charge. No one moves around here without his say-so.”
“So, do I need his permission to be here? He seemed to say last time that I had to be with a member to show up,” I sighed, acting sadder than I really felt.
“Bullshit. Random bachelorette parties come through all the time. But I can say you’re with me if you want,” he replied, leaning against the bar. “Can I get you something?”
Pointing out he was an underage kid in a bar where he shouldn’t be would only humiliate him, so instead, I shook my head and grabbed my barely-touched cocktail off the counter.
“So, you are part of the Harbor Hounds?” I asked. “What is it that you do?”
“In the shop?” he asked, lifting his chin toward the door where Cole entered. “Or in the club?”
“Both,” I answered and gave an encouraging smile.
Finn’s eyes darted around and then back to me. “Let’s just say that we get people what they need. No questions asked.”
“Like what?” I asked, my heart pounding. Finn seemed like he liked to feel important and show off. I had a real chance of getting information out of him that Cole Bailey would never divulge.
He shrugged. “I shouldn’t talk about that,” he said, his eyes darting around the bar nervously.
“But you are talking about it,” I reminded playfully. “You don’t have to worry. I won’t repeat anything.”
He smirked. “I have a feeling you’re dangerous.” He checked his watch and frowned. His whole demeanor changed.
“I need to get going,” he suddenly announced. “I’ll, uh, see you next time, Isabelle.”
Just when a lead was getting good, he left. Great.
I watched Finn go, before sliding off my stool.
“Bathroom?” I asked Asher, who was watching me without comment. He nodded toward the left. I picked up my purse and headed that way.
The evening was turning out to be another bust. I was so frustrated, I could cry, or punch something. Yeah, maybe punching something would feel better. If only Emmit, asshole editor extraordinaire, would show up so I could take out three years of frustration on him.
When I came out of the bathroom, I stopped in the hall to let some other women by and found myself facing a different direction. There was a corridor with a fire door at the end, and it was propped open. Beyond I could make out the gleam of cars and bikes, parked under fluorescent lights.
The shop.
If Cole Bailey had an office in this building, it would probably be in there. I found myself drifting that way before I could question the wisdom of it.
I slipped through the gap in the heavy metal fire door and into the auto shop.
The smell of engine oil and burned rubber instantly hit my nose.
It wasn’t horrible, strangely. I looked around cautiously, ready to duck back out if I saw anyone else in here.
The place was chaotic, a jumble of car parts and tools littering surfaces and walls alike.
There were bikes parked all around, all in various stages of repair, and a car was up high, the pit below lit up with a soft orange glow.
I walked gingerly around the periphery of the shop.
There was a corridor off the main floor with a row of lockers, and the farther on, a bathroom and an office.
I stopped outside the office door. It was ajar.
Blinds were drawn in the window, so I had no idea if someone was inside or not, but if they were, they were completely silent.
With my heart pounding hard in my chest so hard it hurt, I pushed the door open another inch and peered around the edge.
The office was empty. Relief made my shoulders slump, the surge of adrenaline flowing inside me making me shake. I really wasn’t cut out for this cloak-and-dagger stuff.
I pushed the door open a little wider and glanced around behind me. There was no one here.
This was my chance. Don’t be a wimp, Isabelle, I told myself sternly. You’re doing this to save Rosie from losing her son, don’t forget.
I stepped into the office as silently as possible, and closed the door as much as I could manage without turning the handle.
The desk was actually pretty neat, considering the shop outside.
Small piles of paperwork sat on the metal top, and there was a planner with stuff written in most of the days.
I picked it up and looked at it. Small, precise letters filled the days, and it only took a moment to realize that there was no way I could decipher what was written.
It was mostly names and times. One thing I understood.
Marcus. 8pm. HHU
That was a Hellions hockey match, I knew for sure, because I was going too.
I set the calendar down and looked at the paperwork. It was order forms for parts, and agreements on booze and wholesale food for The Clutch. Nothing interesting.
I wandered around the back of the desk, growing more confident the longer I went undiscovered.
The desk had four drawers. All but one opened.
The rest were filled with more paperwork.
The last one was locked. I traced my finger over the keyhole.
What would Cole have in his office that needed locking?
I wanted to get inside that drawer so badly, but I had no idea how to start.
I couldn’t pick a lock. I had no skills for this.
With a sigh, I leaned against the edge of the desk and looked around at the shelves behind it.
“Looking for something?” a deep voice mused, and I knew it was him immediately. That smoky, gravelly tone was undeniable. It was him and I was caught red-handed.
I straightened up so fast I banged my head against the hanging light, suspended over the desk.
Ouch. I put a hand to my head as I spun around. Alarm raced through me, making me hot. My muscles screamed at me to move, to get the hell out of here before it was too late, but that was dumb. It was already too late.
Cole lounged in the doorway, his eyes on me, barely blinking. He seemed too big and terrifying to be in this harmless office setting. As if a wolf had casually walked into a picnic area.
“I asked you what you’re doing here,” Cole continued. “And if I were you, I’d think really carefully about that answer.”
Shit. I was so screwed.