Possession (3 page)

Vincent snorted at Tina's choice of vehicle—the girl was so petite she'd drown in a dewdrop, yet she owned an Escalade. He walked around to the driver's side and stopped. Someone had keyed the word
cunt
on her door. He spit on the ground and shook his head; the idea of anyone harassing Tina pissed him off. Must have been her psycho client Kline Barnes. If the bastard thought he'd get away with it, the minute Vincent met him, he'd rip his fucking head off. On an angry growl, he stalked through the front doors of Valhalla and went straight to the security room.

With the building protected by a state-of-the-art surveillance system, Vincent intended to check every minute of footage from the three cameras located on the front.

“Up early.” Leonard greeted him with a fist bump.

“Do me a favor?” he asked. Leonard had been promoted to head of security last year. “Review the footage from last night after eleven p.m. Keep an eye out for a black Mercedes and anyone hanging around in the parking lot.”

“Might take a few hours.”

“No problem,” Vincent said.

He left the office and headed to the bar for coffee. Sheila handed him a cup.

“Good morning,” she said. “Beer distributors are scheduled for this afternoon and the cleaning crew just finished up. Anything else, boss?”

Although the Sons of Odin owned shares in the bar, Lang Anderson still held the majority stock. Vincent acted as manager. It was one of the reasons he stayed behind while the rest of the officers traveled to Austin. With Lang away too, it made sense for him to stay in Corpus. “Is the produce stocked?”

She nodded. “We're good until next Monday.”

“Have the schedule worked out?”

She slid a clipboard down the counter. “Just requires your signature.”

Most of the staff had been employed for five or more years, so the club practically ran itself. But occasionally Vincent popped in to check on everything. He scanned the page, then signed it.

“Thanks for keeping up, Sheila. I'll be on the road today—call my cell if you need anything.”

Vincent drained his mug, then went outside, considering whether he should tell Tina about her vehicle or just have one of the Prospects in the shop fix it while they were out. Bad news would ruin their day together. He climbed into the plush leather seat and started the engine. The air conditioning and radio came on full blast. He turned both down and drove through the compound gate, parking in a spot where Tina wouldn't notice the damage to her door.

He twisted around and grabbed her sandals off the floorboard behind the front passenger seat, holding them up. Size six? He smiled; he wore thirteens. He turned on the car alarm and walked around the corner of the clubhouse to the shop, where several Prospects were employed full time. Another profit-making enterprise. With two tow trucks and a four-stall, fully licensed auto body repair business, the garage stayed busy.

J.T. met him just inside the entrance. “Something wrong with your bike?”

“No—someone keyed my friend's Escalade in the parking lot last night. Driver's-side door. The taillights are smashed, too. Think you can get it fixed today? I prefer she didn't see it.”

“Sure.”

Vincent gave him the keys. “Take some pictures of the damage. Get one of the boys to run a complete background check on a guy named Kline Barnes, has a recent assault charge. I want to know what time he takes a shit in the morning.”

“Got it,” J.T. said.

Satisfied he'd remembered everything on his morning schedule, Vincent returned to his room in the clubhouse. He found Tina dressed and waiting on the bed. She looked adorable in the faded jeans, still wearing her halter top and jacket from last night. With her hair styled in a ponytail, pink lipstick, and blush, she looked like a teenager, not a defense attorney. Perhaps he preferred her this way—no fuck-me heels and miniskirt. Just Tina, a girl he wanted to spend the day with.

“Thought you forgot about me.”

“Impossible even if I wanted to.” He placed her sandals on the floor by her feet. “Ready to go?”

She stretched out on her side and patted the open space in front of her. “Can't we hang here for a while?”

Why did she continue to test his resolve? Because the woman didn't know how to quit. An admirable trait under any other circumstances. “We shouldn't waste daylight—the birds are waiting.”

On a disappointed little sigh she slipped her feet into her shoes, then grabbed the crutches leaning against the mattress. “Are we hitting Portland first?”

“Sure, should only take a few minutes.”

“What kind of business are you conducting?”

“Club business,” he rumbled, not ready to open up to her. “The kind you shouldn't ask questions about.”

She saluted like a soldier, middle finger extended. “Yes, sir.”

She flipped him off for that? “Didn't mean to sound like an asshole. But you know better,” he said with annoyance.

“Maybe I do.” She bounced toward the door. “But I can't help my inquisitive nature.”

“Is that why you became an attorney?”

“Partly.” She shrugged. “I enjoy debate and believe in our judicial system; it's by far the least prejudicial in the world.”

Vincent clicked his tongue. “Beautiful
and
delusional.”

“Excuse me?”

“Least prejudicial? Goddamned liberal arts schools brainwash their students. Don't you watch the news or read the papers? Check the stats—there's a disproportionate number of guys like me convicted and sentenced to long prison terms just because of their affiliations with clubs.”

“Wouldn't have anything to do with illegal activities, huh?”

Vincent eyeballed her. “I knew that's what you'd say.”

“Am I that predictable, Vincent? In case you forgot, I'm a defense attorney. So I'm on your side.”

“Maybe,” he commented, still studying her with interest. Nothing seemed to ruffle her feathers, not like most women. “I still suspect all lawyers are part of some secret society where you sacrifice helpless animals to your legal gods.”

She laughed. “Yeah, and bloodletting is still a popular medical procedure. If you're truly interested in the ancient history of my profession, Emperor Claudius abolished the ban on legal fees in the first century. So paid advocates have been around for a long time.”

He rubbed his chin. “You don't say.”

“And to sum it up, I'm a capitalist.”

“You mean opportunist? Like all ambulance chasers.”

“Hey.” She slapped his arm. “Not my thing.”

“Can't blame you for wanting to make money.”

“I believe in what I do.”

Maybe. Or she's another victim of society's conditioning process.
One of the biggest reasons he'd joined the Brotherhood, to escape suburban slavery. No one owned him. Not a corporation and definitely not the law. “I'll keep that in mind,” he said as he followed her down the hallway and out the front door.

Vincent reminded her of the boys her parents provided foster care for after she moved out. All teenagers with violent histories, some physically abused, others severely neglected. Each carried a serious chip on his shoulders. She gazed out the driver's-side window of Vincent's Silverado. He was standing at the doorway to a house on San Saba Drive in Portland, an upscale neighborhood. Everywhere she looked reminded her of traditional Texas suburbia: cookie-cutter houses with lush lawns, flower beds, two late-model cars in the driveways, covered porches, and cobblestone walkways. Did one of the club members live there? She didn't see any motorcycles.

The front door finally opened and Tina eyed the pretty blonde. She smiled and invited Vincent inside. Curious to a fault, Tina tried to occupy herself with the radio, then the CD player. She hit play and Mötley Crüe came on, “Ten Seconds to Love.” She giggled at his taste in eighties glam rock. Something she'd have to tease him about later.

Seriously though…Her mind played mental ping-pong all the time. Maybe that's why she could multitask so well. What if he was making a drop—drugs or money? Would he jeopardize her safety like that? She knew better; he'd done nothing but treat her with the utmost respect. Too much, really. Which drove her crazy. She preferred her men a little more callous; alpha males turned her on. Hell, Vincent turned her on. She wanted to tap into his bad-boy side, unleash the antagonistic nature she knew he possessed.

Why didn't he open up like other guys?

Twenty minutes flew by and still no Vincent. Bored with her iPhone, Tina opened the glove box to explore. She found some loose photos on top, four pictures of Vincent and his sons. The sunny-faced eldest had copper-colored hair; the younger, blond curls and wide blue eyes. Both favored their father.

Looking up as the front door to the house opened, Tina quickly returned the pictures and closed the glove box. He wouldn't appreciate her riffling through his truck. He climbed inside and smiled.

“Sorry, it took longer than I expected.”

“No problem,” she said, feeling guilty for snooping. She stared out the windshield.

“Hey. Something wrong?”

She looked at him. “Of course not.”

“Still dying to know what I'm doing?”

“Honestly?”

He patted her knee. “I wouldn't expect anything else from you.”

“Don't believe it for a second—I'm pretty crafty.” There, she'd lightened the mood.

He chuckled in appreciation. “My ex-wife lives here. I dropped off some money for my oldest boy's birthday.”

Tina welcomed his sudden openness. “Having a party?”

“Next Saturday.”

“I bet you're excited to spend time with him.”

“I'm not invited.” His tone intensified. “I get one weekend a month. Terms of the custody arrangement. Unless Laura gives me special permission to attend family functions, I'm screwed. Seems the court system doesn't appreciate my lifestyle.”

“That's bullshit,” she said. “I know violent felons who win shared custody, sometimes sole custody.”

“Laura had an affair with the judge's son while we were still married. Still is.”

Tina snorted. “Can you prove it?”

“Absolutely,” he said, starting the engine. “They post pics on Instagram and Facebook all the time.”

Tina unbuckled and twisted around so she could look him directly in the eyes. “That's a conflict of interest for the judge. He needs to recuse himself and let the court reassign your case. You have grounds for a new custody hearing.”

“I know.” He made a U-turn and headed for the highway. “Avoiding the legal system is my way of staying below the radar.”

“Family court is different.”

“Is it?”

“Aren't you a bank loan officer? Surely the judge took that into consideration.”

“I retired early.”

“Oh.”
At twenty-something?
So he relied on his income from the MC. Tina sighed. Why did he accept that botched custody agreement without a fight? One weekend a month? “I could take a look at it.”

“Not necessary,” he said flatly. “But I appreciate the offer. Sometimes life doesn't give you what you want.”

“You don't strike me as the kind of man who subscribes to that kind of hopelessness. Do you have a criminal record?”

“No. Not even a speeding ticket.”

Not wanting to press him any further, she repositioned herself. His hands-off approach with his children didn't make sense. Maybe he didn't want to spend more time with them. “Can we stop for a cup of coffee?”

“Read my mind,” he said.

As he pulled into the parking lot of the nearest café, her cell chimed. She checked caller ID. “It's Lily,” she told him, picking up.

“Tina?”

“How are you?” Tina asked, unable to hide the excitement in her voice.

“Wonderful. Guess where I'm at?”

“France.”

“Very funny, smart-ass,” Lily said. “Standing near the Eiffel Tower. Thought of you and all those travel magazines you used to make me read in our dorm room.”

Tina laughed. “I do believe Paris was one of my favorite dream destinations.”

“Yes. And you couldn't have been more right. It's beautiful—the food is decadent, the shops are exhausting, and Lang rented a Harley for tomorrow. We're leaving the girls with Rosa and touring the countryside for two days. Are you keeping busy?”

“That's a very interesting question.” Tina eyeballed Vincent. “You'll never guess where I'm at.”

“A bar?”

“Try again.”

“The mall?”

Tina laughed. “Portland.”

“Maine?”

“No. Texas.”

“Why?” Lily asked.

“Vincent is taking me bird-watching at Sunset Lake.”

Lily paused. “
A
Vincent or
the
Vincent?”

“
The
Vincent,” Tina clarified, gazing at her companion, who appeared beside himself because they were talking about him.

“Oh. My. God. How did you reconnect with him?”

“Long story.”

“Don't be cryptic,” Lily said.

“Yeah, Tina,” Vincent commented. “Don't be so secretive.”

“Hold on, Lily.” She lowered the phone from her ear. “You can hear what she's saying?”

“Everything,” he confessed.

Tina felt her face flush as she got back on the phone. “I miss you, Lily.”

“Miss you, too. Want me to call tomorrow night, after Vincent's bedtime?”

He smirked.

“Perfect. Hug the girls and Lang.” Tina disconnected.

“
A
Vincent or
the
Vincent?” he repeated. “What's that about?”

“Oh, girly stuff.” She waved her hand dismissively.

“Nope, not getting off that easily. So I'm
the
Vincent?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

He nodded, his roguish grin infectious. “I like it.”

“Wait…” Tina leaned close, holding her hand to her ear as if she were struggling to hear something. “Did I catch a hint of humor?”

“Your daddy didn't spank you, did he?”

“No,” she answered proudly. “I'm completely overindulged and spoiled rotten.”

“Keep misbehaving and I'll be forced to introduce your ass to my hand.”

She admired the sheer size of his palm. “What makes you think I'd be averse to something that enticing?” She'd take advantage of every opportunity she found to bombard him with that sexual innuendo he'd complained about so long ago.

He opened his door. “Not even sure how to respond to that.”

Tina giggled. Spankings were only one of the kinky things she enjoyed. If he only knew…but at this rate, he'd never find out. She used the time alone to text Lily:
Not sure how to seduce this man.

The response was immediate:
Be yourself.

I am.

Lang suggests getting drunk.

Failed the first time, remember?

Get naked?
Lily shot back.

Spent the night at the clubhouse—nothing happened.

Blame it on global warming. LOL. Gotta go. Hugs.

Tina realized all good things took time. Though she wanted to fall carelessly into bed with Vincent, she appreciated his hesitation somewhat. It meant he had a conscience and didn't view sex as a casual thing. But how could she get him to relax more and stop running away? Biker boy needed some convincing. Biker boy needed a steady girlfriend to help work out some of his painfully visible frustration.

He returned with two coffees and a bag of pastries. “Ready?”

She nodded.

Ten minutes later they arrived at the park. Tina could see the Harbor Bridge and downtown across Corpus Christi Bay. The city of Portland must have invested a lot of money on improvements. The nature trail stretched as far as she could see, almost camouflaged by scrub brush and wildflowers. The occasional palm tree shot up from an otherwise flat landscape, but she appreciated the natural beauty of the sanctuary. Gulls screeched overhead, gliding on the steady breeze.

“So peaceful.”

“I'm glad you like it. One of the only places I can close my eyes and actually forget about life for a while,” Vincent said.

He disembarked first, grabbing a backpack from the bed of the truck, then helped her out. They walked a fair distance before reaching a floating pier that granted better access to the marshes.

“There's a couple benches at the end,” he said.

“How far out does it go?”

“A hundred yards. It makes all the difference when you're trying to spot species that nest in the reeds. For some reason people are more interested in the nature trail and water sports, so I rarely find anyone out here.”

Careful not to trip over the uneven planks on the walkway, Tina followed Vincent. By the time they reached the end, she was a little breathless and ready to retire the crutches.

“Now I know why I hate crutches.” She sat on the closest bench.

“Are you in pain?”

“My underarms ache from leaning on those hard pads, but my ankle feels better.”

“Good.” He started to unload the backpack. “You'll probably want this.” He handed her the Audubon guidebook. “I've tabbed the pages with birds from South Texas. Considering the time of year and mild weather conditions, we might get lucky today.”

His enthusiasm still surprised Tina. She'd never met a dedicated bird-watcher before, much less one that wore patches from a 1%er MC. “I hope we find a great blue heron.”

“What about brown pelicans?” he asked.

“I've never seen one. Why?”

He pointed. “Four or five of them floating on the water.”

Tina immediately joined him near the railing. She squinted against the bright sunshine. “Can I use the binoculars?”

“Yes.”

She zoomed in. “Silly creatures—the kind of face only a mother could love.”

“Skilled predators.”

She lowered the binoculars and turned to Vincent. “Where else have you bird-watched?”

“New Zealand, South Africa, Mexico, Venezuela, Japan, and England.”

“Military?”

“Two years in the Marines fresh out of high school. I was stationed in Japan for a few months, then transferred to England. The others were personal vacation choices.”

“New Zealand is gorgeous,” she observed.

“Best birding destination in the world. I spent three weeks traveling between North, South, and Stewart Islands, mostly camping and hiking.”

“Nothing so adventurous for me. I split my time between Christchurch and Auckland for an international law symposium.”

“Did you get to explore or were you chained to a conference table the whole time?” he asked.

“I attended the Beef and Lamb New Zealand Steak of Origin Competition and gorged myself with samples from all the farms and sponsoring restaurants. Best meat I've ever tasted.” She batted her eyelashes, turning on the charm.

Vincent couldn't hide his amusement. “I'm not afraid of stiff competition, Tina.”

Finally—he let go and countered with something naughty. But how did he keep a straight face? Movement nearby caught her attention. Another bird. “What's that?”

“An egret.”

She explored every direction with the binoculars, spotting loons and sandpipers, which were common enough around town. A few ducks splashed by and even a canoe. But then she discovered something she couldn't identify with dull gray feathers on its lower body and reddish feathers up top, crowned by crazy bed head. She couldn't believe how exciting it felt. “I'm an avian explorer now,” she laughed, handing Vincent the lenses. “I need your expertise again. What's that?” She showed him where to look.

“A rare find actually. The reddish egret is currently listed as a threatened species in Texas.”

He lingered, obviously captivated. Tina sucked in a breath, prepared to heat things up again. “What's this?” She caressed his stomach with the back of her hand. Even through his clothes she could feel his rock-hard abs.

Good manners had never infected Tina the way they had other women in her family. Her mother would have a heart attack if she knew how sexually charged Tina's words and actions were. But if Tina didn't act, the chance to connect with this man might slip away. Verbal teasing provided entertainment, but she wanted more. Was pretty damn close to demanding it.

Vincent exhaled and laid the binoculars on the bench, then encircled her wrist with his hand. “Didn't you take physiology in college? Solar plexus.”

“And this?” She dipped her fingertip into his belly button.

His eyes met hers. “Umbilicus.”

“Here?” She gently cupped the spot between his legs.

“A fucking erection.” He leaned in, tugging her against his steely body. “But you already knew that.”