RECKLESS AND WILD: MOTORCYCLE CLUB ROMANCE BOX SET (11 page)

BOOK: RECKLESS AND WILD: MOTORCYCLE CLUB ROMANCE BOX SET
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CHAPTER TWO

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“You're going back to the MC, Liv.”

“What?” I was dumbfounded. Tommy sat behind his desk, his hands folded behind his head, his feet up on the top of his desk and the worn out soles of his favorite leather loafers about a foot from my face as I sat across from him the next morning. That third celebratory whiskey last night had left me a little foggy this morning, and I wasn't sure I had heard him correctly.

“You heard me. We're sending you back in.”

“But the Blackhearts broke up years ago...” I murmured, my voice trailing off in confusion.

“Not the Blackhearts. The Crows.”

“The Crows! The Dirty Crows Motorcycle Club? Are you kidding me, Tommy? They are said to be the most violent MC on the West coast, Tommy!”

“Well, not technically. That would be The Outlaws.”

“Whatever! What do you mean by 'sending me back in'?” My voice shook.

“It's an easy assignment, don't worry. We only want you to go in, get acquainted with the guys, take a look around, see what you find. Dig a little, that's all. The DA has a hard-on for the President of the club, Billy Austin, better known as Crow. Crow did five years in the joint for beating up a cop. That cop turned into the DA. So now that Crow has been out for a few years, and he's running the MC, well - the DA wants a piece of him for revenge.”

“Why did he beat up the DA in the first place?” I asked.

“Crow came up on the DA and his wife in the middle of a fight. They were in their car, and Crow saw the DA slap his wife. He pulled him out of the car and beat him to an inch of his life. Injured one of his eyes so badly, he lost it. That's why he wears that eye patch. Ol' Cyclops, we call him. Behind his back, of course. Anyway, nobody has any evidence on the MC, but Cyclops is certain they are selling drugs and guns, and maybe even selling a few women on the side. We've been watching them for a year now, but we just haven't been able to get anywhere. They run a tight ship, and Crow is vigilant about knowing exactly what goes on there. We need an insider. But we can't afford to get busted, so we need a sure thing. That sure thing is you, Liv. You've lived the life. You've got that innocent face, and yet you're as street savvy as my most seasoned detective.”

“You've got to be kidding, Tommy! This is my first assignment! Why can't you give me something easy to do at first? Let me get a little experience under my belt before you throw me to the wolves!”

“It's not the wolves, it's the crows!” He laughed loudly at his own stupid joke, and I sat there shaking in my shoes, glaring at him with angry green eyes. “Calm down. Listen, I have complete confidence in your abilities. You're sharp as tack, you're strong as a horse and you fight like a ninja – hell, you even know how to ride! This is an important case, Liv, and you are the only one that I know can pull it off. I need a woman, and if I sent any other female cop in there, it would be obvious they were faking it. But you grew up in that environment, you won't be shocked at anything you see, you know the culture, the way they talk, the way they relate to one another, you know the hierarchy....you are perfect!”

“I don't know, Tommy...” I was filled with dread and doubt. The thought of going back to that life, to experiencing it all over again was not something I imagined I would ever do.

“Well, I do. And I'm the boss, right? You'll be fine, you'll be safe, I promise. If anything goes wrong, we will be there in less than a minute.”

I looked at him silently, his brown eyes soft and kind, yet filled with excitement. He had been so happy when I decided to become a detective. I had done my best to excel at everything, to ease the burden on him and Mabel, to show them how grateful I was that they had saved me from that life. And yet here he was sending me back. What was I supposed to do? I knew I couldn't say no. I couldn't disappoint him.

“Okay,” I said, sighing deeply. “I trust you, Tommy.” “Wonderful! You won't regret it, I guarantee it!”

I laughed at his confidence, hoping it would rub off on me. “Okay, where do we start?”

 

“First we start with dying your hair black!”

 

CHAPTER THREE

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The reflection in the full length mirror in my bedroom seemed to be of an entirely different person. My thin, long wispy blonde hair was now replaced by jet black curls that cascaded over my shoulders. The leather jacket I wore was unzipped, revealing an obscene amount of cleavage that was framed by a low-cut black tank top. My tight, faded jeans hugged the muscular curves of my hips and thighs, and the worn, leather harnessed biker boots I had tucked them into made my tall 5'10” frame an inch taller.

I looked nothing like the skinny twelve year old that left the MC life behind. I was used to the leather and jeans, but not the hair.

After my parents died, the Blackhearts taught me to ride. I wanted to learn earlier, but my mom wouldn't allow it. When she wasn't around to protest anymore, I was able to convince the guys to teach me. I fell in love with the speed, the force of the wind rushing past me, and the roar of the bike between my legs. Tommy bought me my own bike for my sixteenth birthday, insisting I take proper lessons and wear the safest helmet he could find. I was willing to do anything for the freedom the bike provided. Winding down the curviest roads I could locate, I found solace and peace during those hours alone. When it was just my bike, the road and me – I felt closer to my parents than I ever did. Riding was healing. The road was my church.

Luckily, Tommy understood that and allowed me the freedom and trust to be safe and stay out of trouble. And I did.

Until now, I had never put myself in danger. After today, my life would be full of it. I wasn't sure I was up to the job, but I was determined to do my best for Tommy.

Mustering up every ounce of courage I had, I looked in the mirror, gazing into the green eyes of the black haired woman in the mirror.

“You can do this, Liv. It'll be a piece of cake. Stay on your toes and stay focused. Get in and get out.”

I took a deep breath and collected my things. I was moving into a decoy apartment across the street from the Crow MC's clubhouse and was only allowed to bring a few items of clothing and necessities. No pictures of Tommy and Mable, nothing that would identify me as Officer Olivia LaVelle. Now I would be known as Krys Black, a loner from Chicago that loved motorcycles and dangerous men.

As I turned off the lights and locked the door behind me, I wondered for a moment how this assignment would change me. Who would I be when I returned to my real life?

Tommy and I had been going over the details of everything for a week now, and after stopping by the station for one last briefing, I was back on my bike and roaring over forested hills to my new, temporary life.

When I pulled up to my apartment, I turned off my bike and took off my helmet, shaking my newly darkened curls loose. Surveying my surroundings, I took in the bar across the street, and the Crow's clubhouse just down the block. Everything was quiet and calm, but I had a feeling I was being watched. Not wanting to call any attention to myself just yet, I ascended the stairs in front of me and opened the door to my apartment.

It was sparse but comfortable and Tommy had made sure it was stocked with everything I needed during my stay. My favorite beer was in the fridge and the cabinets were stuffed with food. In fact, it was time for lunch but I didn’t feel like cooking and my growling stomach told me I should check out the offerings at the pub across the street.

I looked out the living room window, which faced directly across the avenue. From up here, I had the perfect view into the MC's parking lot and I watched as three leather clad men walked past the chain link fence and out onto the street. They were smiling and joking with one another, and didn't look dangerous at all at first glance. But then I saw the big knives hanging from their belts, and the bulging muscles rippling under their cuts, and I knew that no matter how good a fighter I was, I wouldn't be any match for men their size. Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that. I comforted myself by letting Tommy's words run through my mind assuring me that he would be right around the corner if I needed him. He promised he would be glued to his phone and ready to act in a moment's notice if I called him.

I tucked my cell phone into the pocket of my jacket and took the first step out my door and into the MC life. When I pushed open the door of the pub, I could feel eyes on me right away. I stood by the door for a moment to let my eyes adjust to the light, and then walked directly to the bar.

It was showtime.

“I'll have a shot of whiskey and a beer back. And a cheeseburger and fries, please?” The bartender could have been a biker himself. Tall and thick around the middle, his face was framed by a full black beard. His smile was friendly and jovial, and his eyes met mine as he brought me my drinks.

“Sure. You new around here? I haven't seen you in here before.”

“Yes, I just moved in across the street today. I'm Krys. Krys Black.” I held out my hand and he shook it firmly.

“Well, welcome to the neighborhood. I hope you like the sound of motorcycles. I'm Darrell.”

“Hi, Darrell. And yes, actually, I ride myself.” I knew the three bikers in the corner were listening because their eyes hadn't left my ass for half a second since I walked in. I had pretended I didn't see them up till now, but when they laughed out loud, I turned and looked them square in the face.

“What's so funny?” I asked them. Now that I had a closer look, I realized how rugged and good-looking they were. The bikers I had grown up around didn't look anything like these guys. They were young and ripped and in spite of the huge amount of alcohol that was in front of them, they looked healthy. I had seen pictures of them during the briefing and I knew right away who I was looking at.

Pockets, Rat Boy and Crow. Pockets was the vice president. He sat on the left, the only one not smiling. He stared at me with deep blue eyes. I knew he was the suspected mastermind behind the MC's deals, and also the brain of the group. Rat Boy aka Ratz, sat next to him, laughing and smiling at me through his crooked teeth. Crow sat next to him, looking at me with curiosity, his eyes raking across my body. He was the best looking of them all. His long black hair framed his square jaw handsomely, and his piercing blue eyes looked as if they could peer into my soul if I stared back at him for too long.

Pushing away all traces of intimidation, I picked up my drink and walked over to them.

“What's so funny? You have a problem with a lady riding a bike?” I was standing directly in front of their table, my heart racing so loud I could hear it pumping.

Again, Ratz laughed at me. The other two just continued to stare up at me, Crow's eyes landing on my tits.

“No, honey, we don't have a problem with it. You just make sure you're careful, okay, darlin'?” Ratz replied, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“Oh, don't you worry about that,
sweetheart
.” I replied, my words laced with enough sarcasm to match his. “I've been riding a lot longer than you have.” I turned on my heel, and made my way back to my bar stool, slightly exaggerating the swing of my hips as I strolled away.

The three of them burst out in laughter behind me.

They left me alone for the next hour, but I had definitely caught their attention. I finished my drinks and my burger, paid the bartender and walked to the ladies room, watching from the corner of my eye as Crow's gaze followed my every move. Perfect – he was the one I wanted to get close to. It didn't hurt that he was so damned hot.

I reapplied my bright red lipstick, staring at myself in the bathroom mirror. I never would have worn makeup this bright, but it really worked with the black hair. I loved the feeling of pretending to be someone else. It was intoxicating and exciting, and just a little bit sexy. Smiling at myself one last time, I left the bathroom and ran right into Crow's chest. He was standing directly in front of the door, obviously waiting for me.

“Hello,” he said.

“Um...hi.” I looked up into his eyes, the smell of whiskey and leather wafting into my nostrils, bringing back vague memories that I tried to push into the back of my mind.

“Sorry about my friend back there. He's an asshole.”

“I can tell,” I said, smirking at him. Now was the time to flirt. “But you aren't, are you?”

His soft laughter echoed in the narrow hallway.

“I can be an asshole, sure.”

“Hmm,” I replied, giving him my most seductive smile, “you seem like the strong, silent type to me.”

“I've been known to be a strong, silent asshole.” He said, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he smiled. “What’s your name?”

“Krys, with a K, what's yours?”

“Nice to meet you, Krys. I'm Crow. With a C.”

He was even more handsome up close. The earthy smell of leather drifted around us as he smiled down at me disarmingly. I hadn't thought this through all the way after all. I had seen a few pictures of him, but I had no idea he would be this charming and exude such raw sensuality. I was really going to need to keep my wits about me.

“Nice to meet you, too, Crow with a C. Maybe we'll meet up again another time. I just moved in across the street.”

“Sure. How long have you been riding? That must be your bike parked over there.”

“Yes, it is. I've been riding longer than I've been walking. I grew up around bikes, so I learned to ride very early.”

“I see. Well, maybe we should go for a ride together sometime. After you get settled.” “Oh, I'm settled already actually. I didn't have much to unpack.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah!” I leaned into him, putting my hand on his chest lightly. “I travel light.” “Well, then. What are you doing tonight?”

“Not a thing. Tonight sounds great. Your bike or mine?” I asked, both of us smiling at each other like two little kids. Where was the tough guy I was supposed to be dealing with?

“Very funny. Mine. I'll pick you up at seven. We can ride up to Dog Mountain and check out the sunset.”

“Sounds awesome, Crow.” I winked at him, and ducked under his arm, sashaying away from him, knowing he was watching my hips sway in my jeans. My black curls whipped around as I looked back at him flirtatiously. “But I can ride my own bike. I'm in apartment 205. See you tonight!”

I walked past the others, out the door and into the sunlight as fast as I could. I didn't exhale until I reached my apartment and had locked myself in.

Success! That wasn't so hard at all. It was actually quite pleasant, and I knew then that I would have to keep a check on myself and not enjoy myself too much. A job was a job. I wasn't here to become smitten with the president of the MC. The wetness seeping into my panties dared to argue with me.

 

 

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