It was pretty much the unspoken rule that when businesses had a problem, when outsiders disrupted their quiet landscape, when permits had to be granted, tickets erased, violations magically disappeared, zoning parameters changed or votes had to swing a certain way, it was either the Mountain Skulls supplying the muscle on the lowdown or Elle Connors pulling the puppet strings of the town officials. On the surface, one would call it corrupt, though Eva never recalled overhearing any complaints in the years she lived here and upon her return.
What she thought was a bunch of guys who banded together, formed a club and rode Harleys were actually more. And judging by Elle’s expensive taste in clothes, accessories and jewelry, her MC president husband either had to be making a killing in body shop work or……in ways not actually reported on the IRS Form 1040.
She learned that Taz’s real name was Gabriel, finding it ironic, as Saint Gabriel was God’s messenger. He was four years older than her, which explained how she never collided with him in school and had probably bought a bike, joined an MC, turned to the dark side and pierced half his face by the time she graduated. Janice didn’t offer much else, including the other members, and Eva didn’t ask. She didn’t want to seem nosy nor did she want Janice to suspect anything if she asked about Ben.
Ben. Taz. Janice. Elle. Almost two weeks and she’d already crossed paths with four connections to the MC. One a little more than most. And the mystery behind who and what they really were which Janice couldn’t expound upon just made Eva curious rather than cautious. And in a little more than twelve hours she’d be meeting with the top female in town to discuss outdated party supplies and paper goods. For this, she decided to head home. She needed a clear head, a good night’s sleep and prepare herself to make a good impression upon this woman. She owned a business in town and any good deed Eva could do for the person who seemed to make things happen around here could be useful down the line.
Yes, it was all about business. It had nothing to do with a certain biker.
~~~***~~~
Moody classic rock filled the Skull’s clubhouse along with the choking aroma of smoke, booze and an array of sweet perfumes. By the time Ben and Taz arrived back from Carrollton it was almost eleven p.m., stolen parts in tow and the party still in full swing as the van pulled up the gravel driveway.
Once inside, the noise and atmosphere was like a light switch as opposed to what happened over an hour ago. Music, shouting, laughter, rough-housing, drink, bar food and a crush of people, mostly made up of members, prospects, mill workers and hang-arounds.
And lots of women.
Aside from Vic and Tanner who didn’t dabble, all the available men helped themselves to the female buffet which lined up every Saturday night outside the clubhouse for an opportunity to party, and maybe even score with, a bunch of bikers. Over on couch, Doug was being straddled by one of the female offerings while his brother, and business partner, also shared in the spoils of his sibling’s MC lifestyle with one of his own. Aero had a busty redhead feeding him shots of tequila so his hands were free to roam up her dress while young Wes, still new to this, sat in an easy chair with a bottle of beer while watching a pretty, dark-haired newbie play amateur stripper on a pole long, since installed. In between, non-members were either playing pool or making a hell of a ruckus around an old fashioned foosball table while trying to hit up the leftovers.
And what was left over was enough for Taz. “Later, brother.” He smacked Ben in the gut with the back of his hand before landing himself a piece of ass, or two – as he was known for liking -for the night. Rubbing the back of his neck, Ben went over to the bar, snatching a shot of tequila out of the redhead’s hand as she was about to pour it down Aero’s throat.
“Hey!” The V.P. protested until he saw who the recipient of his shot was, then hopped off the stool, sending the redhead to the floor. “Sorry, sweetheart,” Aero said, offering his hand then sitting her down. “Keep it warm for me.” With a wink, he maneuvered Ben over to the quietest spot they could find. “Vic called – told me the deets. Gave the Hogs a ring, let ‘em know it’s done.”
Ben had called his president soon after he and Taz disposed of Dewey. “Got the parts in the van. I’m sure whoever’s picking ‘em up at midnight’s gonna be pissed. Vic wants to discuss first thing Monday morning.” Ben shook his head. “Shit, Aero. If the Santagios set up that hit on the warehouse to fake stealing their own stuff…..”
“Yeah. I know. Which makes this ‘last hurrah’ run, as Emilio put it, look……”
Both men left their own insights on the situation dangling, but there was no question that something else was up to keep the Skulls out of the way – for good. “Monday, bro,” Aero told him. “Let’s save it for Monday. Grab some booze, some tail and unwind.” He clapped Ben hard on the back then took a fresh, opened bottle of beer offered by a passer-by. “You deserve it.”
Ben looked around. “Place is packed more than usual.”
“Yeah.” Aero palmed his neck, discreetly trying to gage his hair growth. “Doubling up. No party next Saturday. Elle’s doing Vic’s surprise birthday thing. Just us….quiet, maybe. Stopped by earlier with the arrangements.” Aero took another long pull from the bottle before his eyes widened. “Oh yeah, she’s meeting the owner of that card place when she gets back in town tomorrow to get paper shit. Wonder if that sweet, little brunette you were sniffing after’ll be there?”
With a hard shake of Ben’s shoulder to accompany the ribbing, Aero went back to the redhead and tequila. He stood there in the middle of the Saturday night madness, his ears ringing and brain humming. There was serious shit on the table which could put their asses in prison-orange slings and available pussy galore around him to ease the stress, but all he could think about was how the hell Eva met the club’s tough-as-nails, business-savvy queen. Aero had no idea the owner and the ‘sweet little brunette’ were one in the same.
“Can I get you something, big guy?” A blonde in a tight black dress came up behind him. The meeting with Emilio, killing Dewey, the intel, his sister’s betrayal – it all still clung to him. And as with every other job, Ben needed to go into detatch mode, but his cock had other ideas at the sight of the blonde’s plump, delicious lips.
For a moment, he went off his routine course, pulling the blonde by the back of her neck and kissing her – hard. The Allman Brother’s
Midnight Rider
blared out of the piped in satellite station, it’s soothing tone and vibe of the road relaxing Ben a bit, making him forget his normal process as his tongue swept inside the blonde’s mouth while his hand slid down to grab her ass. His other hand came up to her hair, brittle and crunchy with spray and she reeked of coconut. Different bitches, same dance. He was both horny and bored at the same time. But through the stiff hair and pina colada scent Aero’s words smacked him.
“
Gonna meet her at the store when she gets back in town tomorrow
.”
Back in town tomorrow? Which meant Eva was away overnight. Where? With who? What for?
Why the fuck did he care?
The blonde’s hands came up behind his neck and Ben flinched. They were ice cold. And he suddenly went chill. Pulling them down, he gently set her back. “Rain check. Gotta head out.”
Leaving her speechless, Ben tore out of the clubhouse and straight to his bike. He rode hard and fast until the little Victorian house came into view behind the streetlights. The house was dark except for the front, porch light and a wrought iron lantern on the front lawn. He stopped his bike on the street and killed the engine, walking it up to her driveway while still astride. It was then when he noticed the mailbox, an almost exact replica of the house. He wasn’t sure which came first, but Ben was sure Eva had a story behind that.
Dismounting, he rolled his bike onto the cement walkway in the backyard then sat on the deck steps. The air was chill, the sky was dotted with stars and the natural night sounds began to ease the noise in his head. He could very well have gone to his corner booth at Ziggy’s, as heading back to his place when he was like this wasn’t an option, but this was more appealing. Yeah, he was trespassing just like when he came to chop wood, but he wasn’t thinking that way. He wasn’t here to drop in unexpectedly, impose or invade her space. She wouldn’t be back until tomorrow and he’d be long gone by then. He just wanted to enjoy the serenity which was her backyard, to envision what it would feel like if he had something of his own. A place he could work on or build something in. Something he could finally attach to.
Something that felt like a real home and not some temporary residence.
Zipping up his dark, blue hoodie, he edged his ass forward on the step, leaning back to prop his elbows on the deck floor behind him. Closing his eyes, he steadily breathed in and out, trying to wash away what a fucked up day today had been. Slowly, he felt himself begin to de-stress, while his breath became more and more visible, signaling the drop in temperature. Just for the heck of it, he stood up and went to the slider to try it, frowning when it slid right open. Damn, did this chick count on her nosy neighbor across the way to be her security system as well as the neighborhood watch?
He should just leave well enough alone and get his ass to his own place and get some much needed rest, but he couldn’t resist stepping inside. Eva’s kitchen was dark, save for a small night light plugged into the backsplash behind the still-cluttered counter. When the hell was this girl going to clean this shit up and put it away? Fortunately, it was dark so the sight of it didn’t cramp him too much, but ooof’d when he almost knocked over stuff still stacked on the floor. Carefully, he pulled a kitchen chair out and sat down. He was chilled to the bone and decided just to warm up a bit before taking off. Leaning back in the chair he folded his arms across his chest and closed his eyes a bit.
Then dozed off completely.
~~~***~~~
Home at last.
Entering through the front door, Eva dropped her purse and overnight bag on the bottom of the steps, too tired to even make it up. She first thought to crash right on the living room sofa, but decided against it. She needed to set her alarm early enough to get up, dressed and to the store to select appropriate party supplies for Mrs. Elle Connors.
As tired as her body was, her brain was wired and thought a nice cup of hot tea to send her off to sleep would help. Kicking her warm boots off, she padded barefoot against the cool of the wood floors, through the dining room and into the kitchen where she flipped the light on.
And screamed.
Chapter Eleven
The first thing Ben went for was his piece.
The kitchen chair toppled over as he stood, revolver in hand. His eyes tried to adjust to the brightly lit kitchen - and Eva plastered against the archway with a hand to her chest. “
What……what the hell are you doing in my house?”
She was scared. She was beyond pissed. She had every right to be.
She also wasn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow.
“Eva, you don’t…..shit, this ain’t what you think……”
“Why do you have a gun?”
Great. It was bad enough he came onto her property, into her house and now pulled a gun on her. Holding his left hand up to calm her, he slowly re-holstered it with his right. “Reaction, darlin’. You scared the shit out of me……”
“Me?”
She incredulously cut him off. “
I
scared the shit out of
you
?”
“Eva, let me explain……”
“Out!” She extended her right arm, pointing to the slider. The move caused the long cardigan she was wearing to part, exposing what she had on underneath. And it didn’t look as if she had much on underneath that as well. Her tits moved in a way that told him she had no bra on and, even with his mal-adjusted eyesight, could see her nipples poking through. It was some flimsy thing which looked more appropriate for sleeping than going out for the night. Where’d the hell did she go dressed like that? Again,
why
the fuck did he care?
As if sensing where his eyes were, she pulled the sweater across her body to cover up, those blazing blue eyes even more furious. “Ben. Please. I need you to leave. Now.” The tone of her voice had gone down a notch, a bit more calm and controlled. And the way she tugged the ends of the sweater across her body spoke volumes. On paper, he broke into her house and was lustfully looking over her barely-clothed body. She obviously opted for a less angry tone as not to rile him.
Shit, she thought he was going to hurt her.