Chapter 20
I’m headed for Decker’s front steps when a light in the window of his small, detached garage catches my eye. Without slowing, I veer off and pull open the side door.
Decker is kneeling on the ground, wrench in hand, fidgeting with his bike. His focus whips up. For a moment, he stares, a mix of contempt and surprise flashing across his face. Along with that other look he can’t seem to bury behind all that irritation. The look that says I’ve seen you naked.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
“I was hoping we could talk,” I say as I step inside.
Yesterday was intense. The shit at the clubhouse. The fresh bruises all over Axe’s face when he came back from lockup. The conversation Decker and I had in that wretched basement cell.
A war is coming, he said. Because of me. And him.
He killed a man for me.
We might not exactly be friendly. Or maybe we are, since he knows w hat my pussy feels like wrapped around his dick , as he so eloquently put it. Regardless, we’re definitely… something. In deep shit, I guess. Together.
“Yeah? About what?” He moves his attention back to his machine, cursing under his breath as he works the wrench back and forth.
His light jeans are grease-stained, full of black smudges and fingerprints, his grey T-shirt streaked with all the usual smears of what you might find in a garage—oil, fluids, dirt, and grime. “Take it Easy” by the Eagles plays low from a small radio on his workbench.
“Something wrong with your bike?” I ask.
He sighs, head down. “Clutch has been slipping a bit.”
I hum. “Might just need to adjust the cable tension. Need some help?”
Chin lifted, he arches a brow. “Yeah, I know that. How do you know that?”
“Jimmy wouldn’t let me get a bike until I learned how to fix ’em. He says a man should never pay another man to do what he can do himself.” I tread closer and perch myself on the small stool next to him. “That surprises you?”
“What surprises me is that he let you have one at all. Aren’t women in your world supposed to ride on the back?”
I scoff. “Don’t be sexist.”
“I said your world. Hot chick on a bike? Sign me up. You forget I’ve seen how you ride.
” His amber irises darken. “If anyone belongs on a machine like the one you’ve been ripping around town on, it’s you.
” His wrench slips through his fingers and drops to the floor with a loud clatter. “God dammit.”
I snort. “Not all that handy in the garage, huh?”
“I am the kind of man to pay another to do the shit I don’t want to do. Unfortunately, the only shop around here that can handle a bike has your last name on it. So I’m stuck trying to figure this out myself.”
Elbows on my knees, I let out a small laugh. “How do you manage when you need more than a wrench to get the job done?”
With a shrug, he says, “Jack helps some.”
My stomach sinks a little. How is it that Jack seems to be happy to spend time with everyone but me, even Decker?
“What?” Decker asks, like he can see the surprise on my face.
“I guess I didn’t think you two were all that friendly.”
“Axe being back in prison for the last bit made us being friendly a little easier. Not so much now, though, especially with OPP in town. Hence all this struggling.” He motions to his bike, and with a defeated sort of look, he holds out the wrench. “You gonna help me with this or not?”
Smirking, I take the tool from his hand and kneel beside him. I run my fingers along the clutch cable, then move to his hand lever, testing the tension. “This is really tight.”
He clears his throat. “It was uh, well”—he rubs the back of his neck—“bike wasn’t riding as smooth. The internet told me to tighten it.”
I bite down on my smile. “You didn’t give it enough slack. You’re gonna wear out your clutch plates if you ride it like this.”
Angling towards the machine, I loosen one nut, then another. Like this, I’m hyper aware of how close he is. I can feel his breath on my shoulder, smell the clean shampoo scent clinging to his hair.
With a quiet exhale, I will my mind to stay focused and continue to adjust his cable. Though my fingers are a little clumsier than they should be.
Because he’s staring.
I try to ignore it as I test the cable.
He stares.
I move my attention to his handlebars and make a few adjustments to his lever.
He stares.
“Linc,” I warn.
“Gracie.”
The deep tone of his voice has heat pooling low in my belly. “You’re staring.”
“Can’t help it. You look good like that.”
“Like what?” I force out. “And if you say ‘on your knees,’ I will for real punch you.”
He barks out a laugh. It’s one of those nice, easy laughs he lets slip once in a while. “I wasn’t gonna say that. But now that you mention it…”
I bite back the desire that hits me at the idea of Decker’s dick sliding down my throat, the sudden urge to know what he tastes like and how much of him I could actually fit. Instead, I slam my fist into his shoulder.
He winces. “A woman your size should not be able to hit so damn hard. Happy to see that swing of yours has only gotten stronger with time.”
“No getting soft in this life.” I break eye contact and busy myself with his motorcycle. “But for what it’s worth, you didn’t deserve that first one. I was looking for someone to blame and you just happened to be there.”
He smirks “Right. Me and my punchable face.”
His cable is fixed. The work is done, but I move my hands over his machine anyway. Touching wire and metal and carbon fibre, checking nuts and bolts, poking at anything and everything.
Decker either doesn’t care or really is as bad in the garage as he implied and doesn’t notice that I’m tinkering with nothing.
“And maybe you didn’t deserve that second hit, either,” I say.
“Nah, that one I earned. If you’d gone for Sergeant Bag of Dicks instead, I don’t know that either of us would have come out of that in one piece. He’d probably have been a little too liberal with those fists of his, and I’d have had to kill him for that.”
“What a shame that would have been,” I say with a smile.
He clears his throat. “Well, maybe I’m sorry for being a… what did you call me?”
“A fuck boy.” Snorting, I peer up at him. And I find I can’t look away. I can’t focus when he’s near me like this, when he’s looking at me like he wants to take a bite out of me.
A slow smile quirks up at the edge of his mouth. “Circling back to you on your knees.”
Head dropped, I sigh. “Really, Linc?”
His shoulders shake, face painted with wary amusement. “I’m kidding. Half kidding.”
“I thought I was out of your system ?”
“And I thought I was out of yours?”
I push up, skirt around him, and pick up a rag to clean my hands. The first notes of “Brown Eyed Girl” by Van Morrison filter around us, and Decker’s easy smile falls from his face. He stands and then quickly kills the music.
“Not a big Morrison fan?”
“I’ve heard it too many times.”
“Right.” I dip my chin. “Can I ask you something?”
His lips turn down in a sincere expression. “Sure. Shoot.”
“When you and Jack spend time together?—”
“We don’t spend time together , Grace. We’re not teenage girls.”
With a huff, I toss the rag at him. “Whatever. When you hang out . What do you talk about?”
He catches it easily and wipes his own hands. “I don’t know. Baseball, bikes, regular shit. Why?”
“He’s different. I’m just trying to understand him. I expected a little hostility from Axe. He and I have always been a little icy. But Jack doesn’t seem to want me here. Things just feel… I don’t know. Weird. Did something happen to him?”
He’s quiet for a beat, then he lets out a loud breath. “You’ve been gone a long time.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not really in a spot to talk about what they’ve been up to.”
I glare at him. “Seriously? You’re gonna pull the club business card on me? I don’t see a patch on your back. And it’s pretty clear how much you hate Axe. How loyal can you be?”
“It’s not about loyalty, it’s about survival. You more than anyone should understand the necessity of keeping secrets that your life might depend on.”
“I can keep my mouth shut. Especially about something that might get you killed.”
“You sure? You sending a fucking skull and crossbones to my house says otherwise.”
Right. Keegan. But that was different. A momentary slip.
I shouldn’t have let my desperation get the better of me.
But at least the man hunting me is dead.
Though I also might have just breathed life back into a war that was settled decades ago.
And I dragged Linc into it with me. Axe finds out what happened, that Decker is the one who laid the final blow, it’ll be just as bad for him as it will be for me.
“You need another apology?” I ask.
“No.”
“Then move on. I did what I did. We’ve got bigger problems.” I take a breath. “But thank you for… you know. For…” I can’t quite say it.
“Blowing his brains out all over my garage?” he says with a too-easy smile.
I scan the small room, inspecting the ceiling, concrete floors, the tools affixed to the wall, the small beer fridge. Despite how clean the place looks, I can’t help the shiver that runs up my spine.
“Yes. Thank you for… for that.” I clear my throat. “They’ll send someone else.”
This is far from over. The question isn’t if they’ll come, it’s when.
“I have his phone. I’m keeping his little friends abreast of his movements. They don’t know he’s dead yet.”
“And when they do?”
He winces. “Haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“And… the product you stole?”
His expression darkens. “ You stole that product. And it’s safe. Maybe I can use it as leverage. I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”
He steps closer. Air snags in my throat when I look at him again. The man who killed for me. Whose eyes keep dropping to my lips.
He cups my chin, tipping it up. I let him linger there, let his fingers trace over my skin as I will my own to stay in place.