Chapter 3 - Maddie
Dice's apartment is exactly what I expected: leather furniture, motorcycle parts on the coffee table, and a distinct lack of anything resembling decoration.
What I didn't expect is how clean it is.
No dirty dishes in the sink, no clothes strewn across the floor.
James always made his brother sound like a human tornado.
"Home sweet home," Dice says, tossing his keys onto a small table by the door. "It's not much, but it beats bedbugs and mysterious stains."
"Charming sales pitch." I set my overnight bag down, scanning the space for exits—old habit. Front door, sliding glass door to a small balcony, and what looks like a fire escape outside the kitchen window. Good enough.
"Spare room's through there," he points down a short hallway. "Bathroom's across from it. Feel at home and all that."
"Thank you," I say dryly, following him as he gives the nickel tour.
The spare room is basic. Just a double bed and a dresser, but the sheets look clean and there's a lock on the door. Not that I'm particularly worried about Dice trying anything. For all his bad-boy swagger, there's something oddly trustworthy about him.
"You want something to drink?" he asks as we head back to the living room. "I've got beer, whiskey, or..." he opens the fridge, "...chocolate milk?"
I laugh. "Chocolate milk?"
"Don't judge. It's fucking delicious."
"Whiskey for me, thanks." I settle onto his couch, kicking off my boots.
He pours two glasses and hands me one, then sits on the opposite end of the couch. Not crowding me. Interesting.
"So," I say after a sip, "Outlaw Order… You said 8 months, right?"
"Yeah. Knew them about a year before that, though."
"And they're legit? Not just some thugs playing dress-up?"
His eyebrows shoot up. "Why do you care if they're legit?"
I shrug. "Just making sure my friend's little brother isn't mixed up with losers."
"They're family," he says simply, like that explains everything. And in a way, it does. "They took me in when I was spiraling after James got sent up again."
"Spiraling how?"
He takes a long drink before answering. "Let's just say I was on the fast track to joining my brother behind bars."
"And now you're what? Reformed?" I can't keep the skepticism from my voice.
"Fuck no." He grins. "Just smarter about it. The club has rules, structure. Keeps me from doing really stupid shit."
"Like boosting cars from the mayor's fundraiser?"
He winces. "James told you about that?"
"He tells me everything." I lean forward. "Including how he took the rap for you."
"Yeah, well..." He looks away, and I can see the guilt written all over his face. "He's always been looking out for me. Even when I was too stupid to look out for myself."
There's a rawness in his voice that catches me by surprise. For all James's stories about his reckless little brother, he never mentioned this depth of feeling.
"He's proud of you, you know," I say quietly. "Says joining the MC was the best thing you could've done."
Dice looks genuinely surprised. "He said that? In his letters, he always gives me shit about it."
"That's just his way." I finish my whiskey. "He was terrified you'd end up like him."
"Instead I ended up an outlaw biker." Dice laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Not exactly the straight and narrow."
"Better than prison."
"True enough." He refills our glasses. "So, what about you? James says you've been all over. What brings you to our shitty little town? No way it’s just because of James."
"I’m serious. James is getting out. I wanted to be here for it."
"You could've just shown up on release day."
Smart boy. "Could have." I take another sip. "But I like to get the lay of the land before diving in."
"Reconnaissance," he says.
"Exactly."
"And what have you learned so far?"
I meet his gaze directly. "That Pine Haven has an interesting MC. That your President is intense but fair. That his old lady has been through hell and come out fighting." I pause. "And that you're not quite what I expected."
"Oh?" His cocky grin returns. "And what did you expect?"
"James described you as a 'reckless fuckup with the attention span of a goldfish on meth.'"
He throws his head back and laughs, a genuine sound that transforms his face. "That's... surprisingly accurate, actually."
"But there's more to you." I hadn't meant to say it out loud.
His laughter fades, and he stares at me with those dark, mischievous eyes. "There's more to everyone, Maddie."
The way he says my name sends an unexpected shiver down my spine. Dangerous. I need to remember that Dice Thompson is off-limits for multiple reasons, not least of which is his connection to James.
I stand abruptly. "I should get some sleep. It's been a long day."
He looks disappointed but nods. "Sure. Need anything else?"
"I'm good." I grab my bag. "Thanks for letting me crash here."
"Anytime." He doesn't move from the couch. "Hey, Maddie?"
I pause at the hallway. "Yeah?"
"What did Reaper really talk to you about?"
So he caught that deflection earlier. Sharper than James gives him credit for.
"He wanted to know if I was trouble," I say honestly.
"And what did you tell him?"
I can't help but smile. "I told him the truth. That I'm the worst kind."
His answering grin is pure trouble itself. "Good night, Maddie."
"Night, Dice."
In the spare room, I lock the door behind me. Not because I don't trust Dice, but because I don't trust myself. There's something magnetic about him that draws me in despite my better judgment. And getting involved with James's little brother would be a catastrophically bad idea.
I change into sleep shorts and a tank top, then sit cross-legged on the bed and pull out my phone. Three missed calls from a blocked number. Shit.
I should ignore it. I'm here for James, nothing else.
But then again, a girl's gotta eat.
I dial the number from memory, keeping my voice low.
"It's me," I say when they pick up. "I'm in position."
"Good." The voice on the other end is all business. "The package arrives in two days. You'll receive coordinates then."
"And my fee?"
"Same as discussed. Half now, half upon delivery."
I hang up and check my bank account. The first payment has already arrived—a cool twenty-five thousand. Not bad for what should be a simple job.
I hadn't planned to work while in Pine Haven, but when the offer came through last week, the timing seemed too perfect to pass up. A quick in-and-out job, no one gets hurt, and I walk away with enough cash to set James up comfortably after his release.
The fact that it's happening in the Outlaw Order's backyard is... unfortunate. But as long as I keep things separate, there shouldn't be any issues.
I stretch out on the bed, listening to the muffled sounds of Dice moving around the apartment. The shower turns on, and I find myself picturing him under the spray, water cascading down his—
Nope. Not going there.
I roll over and pull the covers up, forcing my thoughts in a different direction. I need to focus on the job, on James's release, on anything but the irritatingly appealing man in the next room.
But as I drift toward sleep, it's Dice's crooked grin that follows me into my dreams.
Next Day
I wake to the smell of coffee and bacon.
For a moment, I forget where I am, reaching instinctively for the knife I keep under my pillow when traveling. It's not there, and the momentary panic subsides as I remember: I'm at Dice's apartment.
The clock on the nightstand reads 7:14 AM. Who the hell is up cooking breakfast at seven on a Saturday?
I pull on a hoodie over my tank top and pad barefoot to the kitchen. Dice stands at the stove, his back to me, wearing only low-hanging sweatpants. The defined muscles of his back and shoulders ripple as he flips bacon, and I allow myself a moment of pure appreciation before announcing my presence.
"Morning," I say, leaning against the doorframe.
He glances over his shoulder, and his eyes widen slightly as they take in my bare legs. "Hey. Didn't expect you up so early."
"Wasn't planning on it, but something smelled too good to sleep through."
He grins. "Coffee's fresh. Figured you might want some breakfast before I head to the garage."
"You work weekends?" I pour myself a cup of coffee, black.
"Club's short-staffed, so I'm covering." He plates eggs and bacon. "Hope you're hungry."
"Starving." I accept the plate and sit at his small kitchen table. "You cook for all your overnight guests?"
"Only the ones who don't steal my bike and sell it for parts."
I laugh around a mouthful of perfectly cooked eggs. "The day's still young."
We eat in silence for a few minutes. It's strangely domestic, and I find myself enjoying it more than I should.
"So," he says eventually, "what are your plans today?"
I shrug. "Look around town. Get to know the area. I'm thinking of sticking around after James gets out."
"Really?" He looks genuinely pleased by this. "Pine Haven's not exactly a happening place."
"I like small towns. Easier to know who's who." And what's worth stealing, but I keep that to myself.
"I could show you around after my shift, if you want."
The offer is tempting. Too tempting. "I'm more of a solo explorer."
"Fair enough." If he's disappointed, he hides it well. "You need a key if you're coming back here later?"
"You'd give a virtual stranger a key to your place?" I raise an eyebrow. "Not very security-conscious."
"You're not a stranger. You're James's best friend." He says it with such conviction that I almost feel guilty for the half-truths I've been feeding him.
"I could be casing your apartment right now," I point out. "Planning to clean you out the minute you leave."
He laughs. "Go ahead. My bike's worth something, but the rest?" He gestures around the apartment. "Knock yourself out."
"Such faith in humanity."
"Not humanity." His eyes meet mine. "Just you."