Tempting Trouble (Highway Reapers Motorcycle Club Book 1) (2 page)

“I’d say that there was no easy way to make that kind of money legally, and I think I already told you that I won’t be going back to prison.” Ella sucked her straw into her mouth enjoying the cool sweetness of the milkshake sliding down her throat. She watched him swallow a few times as he took in how sensually she was sucking on her straw, and she figured she’d stop playing because this guy wasn’t ever going to get anything from her; she wasn’t a tease.

“I can see where you’d say that, Ella, but you didn’t hear me out yet.” Bruce cleared his throat like his first attempt didn’t go well and he was adjusting for round two.

“I’m still sitting here.” Ella looked around and found most of the people gone, so she must have been better than she thought she was at blocking people out or maybe her food had just been that good.

“There’s a guy we’re looking for named Tyson Adler. We have to have a little discussion with him, but he has been very clever getting away from us.” Bruce looked like he was a bit annoyed at the fortunate man who seemed to lose Bruce and his happy troop of men. It wasn’t often that she got to witness Bruce looking pissy, but she figured that he probably deserved to feel that way every once in a while.

“I don’t do hits. I thought you’d know that, because murder is one of the most illegal things you can do.” Ella had been excited with the prospect of money, but now she was thinking she was stupid for getting excited about something she knew was going to be too hard or too illegal.

“No, no, no,” Bruce said trying assure her this was just a little something that was nothing, but she’d already been bitten by the bear, and she was very wary of him and his ‘Motorcycle Club’ like gang. “You have the wrong idea. All you need to do is get him to a certain location and then tell us where we can find him. He owes us a good deal of money, and when we get it back from him, we’ll give you half.”

“So what if I give the guy to you, and he doesn’t have the money? That would leave me out of any money and my time wasted,” Ella was thinking this through, and although it didn’t seem like too bad a deal, she wanted to make sure she had the particulars all worked out.

“What I meant to say is that we will give you the money that he is going to give us, but you don’t have to wait. As soon as you tell us where he is, I’ll get the money to you.” He took an envelope out of his pocket and placed it on the table. She wanted to tell him no, but she was curious about what he had in the envelope. Her mother had always told her that her curiosity would get her ass in a sling one day. Well, she’d been there and done that, and she still wanted to know what was in the fucking envelope.

“Just because I open this doesn’t mean I’ll do it. I just want to see how sweet you are trying to make this pot.” She stared at him as she reached for the envelope, and Ella knew that whatever he’d put inside would be hell to turn down. The smirk on his face said “Gotcha” and that was before she saw the check book and the wad of hundred dollar bills.

“That’s five thousand dollars Ella. A lot of people thought I was crazy to trust an ex con with that much money, but they don’t know you like I do. I know you don’t have a lot right now, but I want to change that. There are a lot of us with the Reapers that feel bad about you going down for our mess, but there was nothing we could do once the ball was rollin’. Do you know what I mean?”

Ella could barely hear what he was saying with the wad of money in her hand yelling at her. She wanted to say no, because the “talk” they were going to have with whoever they were looking for wasn’t a “Let’s have a beer, friend” or even a “What do you think you were doing” talk. It was going to be a beat down at best, a murder at worst, and she didn’t want to be involved with anything like that.

“If you don’t want to do it, Ella, I understand. Put the money and the check book back in the envelope, and we can call this two people meeting for lunch and call it a day.” Bruce had to know how hard it would be for her to walk away from this kind of money. Fed or not, she didn’t know where the next meal was coming from, and it was hard to get a job with a criminal record.

“What’s the bank account for?” Ella asked because she was puzzled. The Reapers weren’t known for using banks.

“I wanted you to know that we had something set up for you so the money would be in there as soon as you told us you know where he is. You can check it before I claim our guy, and then you walk into the sunset with your fifty thousand dollars and we have our guy.” Bruce made this seem easy peasy lemon squeezy, but she knew there was something else going on. Should she care? This could be her way out of this whole mess.

“So this money isn’t in with the fifty thousand?” Ella shook the envelope so he would know what she was talking about.

“No. That’s just a little something from me to you. I know you could use a little help to get started, and you’ll need some money for some new clothes.” Bruce tapped his finger on the table top so she knew that he needed her more than he was trying to let on.

“Is this guy dangerous?” It would be her luck she’d go out looking for someone only to find he was all hopped up on drugs or some sort of homicidal maniac.

“You mean should you fear for your life when you’re near him? No, but he can be charming, and he can be ruthless. It kind of comes with the territory. I wouldn’t send you out to do something I didn’t think you could handle.”

Ella sat fingering the money and looking at Bruce. In for a penny… in for a pound. She was going to have to find a way to make this legit because she still wasn’t going back to prison for anyone. Bruce was sitting there looking like he didn’t care what happened either way.

“Alright, Bruce. Who do you want me to find?” Ella hoped that she wasn’t making a bigger mistake than she had in the past. Trusting The Reapers could be a gamble, but it wasn’t one she could afford not to take.

CHAPTER TWO

Tyson Adler sat at his favorite bar and wondered how he got himself into bullshit like this. As usual, it wasn’t something that just happened; it always started small and then rolled itself into something bigger, uglier, and harder to contain. He’d built up a nice tab in the two hours he’d sat there sipping on scotch and listening to the woman who thought she was Shania Twain reincarnated. He appreciated the fact that everyone had dreams, but at this moment he just wished she’d shut up and sit her ass down.

The problem he was trying to work through had been bothering him for a while. He owed The Highway Reapers two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Even thinking of a number that high that he owed to someone else made him want to down his drink and get another. The bartender looked over at him, and he knew she was waiting for him to playfully flirt with her. He wasn’t in the mood for anything like that because he had to figure out a way out of this mess. When she looked down at him again, he tapped his glass on the bar, and she knew that meant to bring him another scotch on the rocks. That was one of the good things about being in a place where people knew who you were; he didn’t have to waste time telling the bartender what he’d wanted because she knew when he got there, and she kept them coming.

Sometimes when he looked at his life, it felt like he had been in a deep sleep and just woke up. A year ago, he was the man who was looking for the customers who owed The Highway Reapers money, so he knew what happened when one didn’t pay up. That wasn’t going to happen to him. He had always been a good fighter. His mother always thought it was because he didn’t want to get his pretty face messed up, but the truth was he didn’t like pain. He didn’t mind dishing that shit out, but he didn’t like it for himself. There were times that he didn’t enjoy beating the hell out of someone because it would make his knuckles hurt. He hit hard because he knew people would think twice about fucking with KO Tyson. That had been his nick name when he was running with the Reapers.

Where had he gone wrong? It started slowly, picking up a poker game here and there and betting a horse or two, but then he started losing, and he was trying to recover. A wisher and a dreamer are what his mother called him, and maybe she was right, because he really thought he could make this all back. Shit. He still thought if he had a couple more thousand dollars he could make this work. That wasn’t true; he did have one last shot to make it but that wasn’t for a few days. He’d have to make sure to steer clear of The Reapers’ men for the next day or so.

The murmurs of the men at the bar made him look around to see what had caused such a stir and found that it was a new person – probably a woman – that had entered Hell’s Den. The people who visited this bar were the same day after day and night after night. The customers didn’t like newcomers much, but they must have thought this one was okay because after the first rouse of chattering it died down to the normal conversational tone that normally went on.

Someone was trying to saddle up to the seat next to him, and it appeared they were having some trouble. He looked over and tried not to offer any help because of the look on her face. He could tell she was trying hard not to look like it was a bother to get her not much more than five foot frame up on the tall chairs, but it was, and she did it without assistance.

The woman situated herself on the chair and took a deep breath like she was just getting her bearings together. When the bartender came down to see what she wanted, she said she wanted a dirty martini with black olives. Tyson side eyed her, intrigued by the newcomer. What kind of woman is this? She had the face of a very young woman, but the body of a goddess. It was the eyes that told him she was way beyond the first kiss of spring. There was knowledge in her eyes coupled with pain and awareness, and although that didn’t have to say late 20s, early 30s it did. The eyes that met his weren’t naïve eyes that hadn’t seen anything yet; they were filled with knowledge and heartache. He had a feeling this woman had lived and practically died a few times in her lifetime.

“Rough day?” Tyson said to the woman who looked as weary as he felt. He hadn’t meant to strike up a conversation, but she had the look of someone he’d kick himself later if he didn’t at least try to talk to her.

“Rougher than you’d believe.” She answered, and he liked that she didn’t silly up her voice or act like she didn’t have a care in the world. He liked the honesty he heard in her tone.

“That’s quite a drink for a woman of your… ummm… stature.” Tyson looked down at his drink and wondered just how many of those had he had. He’d called the woman short and talked about her ability to handle her liquor. He wasn’t sure how she was going to take that, but since the words had already come out of his mouth, he was going to have to deal with the consequences.

He turned toward her to see what she was going to say and was saved for a few minutes while she was served her drink.

“Are you thinking that a little woman like me might not be able to drink this big ole drink?” She had a glimmer in her eye, and he knew a con artist when he saw it. This woman didn’t look like it, but she probably could drink all of them under the table. The idea made him want to laugh, and at this time in his life, it took a very special person and a unique situation that could make that happen.

“There is no way I’d bet against you. You have a look in your eye that tells me there is more to you than is clear on first inspection.” He watched her sip her first taste, and she must have enjoyed the way it slipped down her throat because she moaned like she was being given a very pleasurable massage. In that moment, he wanted to make her moan like that and not have it be for any other reason beside him being between her legs and her riding him like a rodeo princess.

“You’re a smart man,” she replied, and he knew that they were both right.

“They call me Sonny,” Tyson told her and wanted that to be true. No one actually called him Sonny because he didn’t like it, but he’d needed a new identity and a name that he’d answer to if someone called him.

“Ella,” she said and nodded. Her dark curly hair was all over her head like springs and damn if he didn’t want to grasp a few of them between his fingers. She was a cute little somebody, but she didn’t look like the type who would take that as a compliment.

“It’s nice to meet you Ella.” He looked around the dinky little bar that he was in so much it was like his second home and noticed people looking at the newcomer, but that was to be expected. “What brings you here on a night like this?”

“Well I was just walking along after having the day that I had and decided I wanted a drink. This place looked like I felt, so I just walked in,” she said as she spoke with a confidence that was at least double her height, and he liked that.

“If you feel like this place looks, then you have definitely had a bad day.” They both laughed a bit at that, but the full hearty laugh that sprung from her reminded him of a time when he’d been able to laugh with such abandon. His heart was always so heavy, and his guilt so high it made laughter difficult and smiling a chore. Just a few minutes around, this woman had him chuckling. He’d be damned.

“The way my whole life has been up until this point has got to be a sign that things are getting ready to look up.” She sipped her drink as if she knew what she was doing, and there was no sputtering or acting like it was too strong.

“Well I could probably say the same thing, but I’m not as sure of tomorrow as you are. Maybe I should hang around you a bit and see if some of your ‘things are getting ready to look up’ vibe can rub off on me.” He watched her take a bigger gulp of her drink and look like she was trying to work up to say something.

“What would we do while we wait?” She asked him like he was the cruise director on this ship.

“I’m sure something would pop up and occupy us. I’m good for finding things to do.” He was good at sexual innuendo and hoped that she wouldn’t take offense; they seemed to be doing some kind of mating ritual, but he didn’t think he knew the rules, and God knew she wasn’t his usual type. He usually went for the tough and rumble dirty girl; this one looked like she’d be sullied by his touch and softer than cotton.

“Are you flirting with me?” The quiet deadly tone in which she said it made him think he’d made a mistake in the chemistry he thought they’d shared, but no one could say that Tyson Adler backed down from a challenge.

“Yes, I am,” he told her and waited for her response. What was so interesting to him about this whole exchange was how much fun he was having. That’s what had attracted him to poker and gambling in the first place: the excitement of placing your bet and the anticipation of waiting to see if it would all pay off. He’d lost it when he began chasing the money. The more he chased it, the faster it ran, and here he sat trying to recoup his losses, but right here, right now, watching this sexy woman after he placed his wager and waited to see what would come out of it… he’d found the fun again.

She tipped her glass to the sky and drained the rest of her drink before setting it back down on the countertop.

“Did you want another drink?” he asked when she didn’t say anything for the few seconds after she’d drained her drink.

“Not really. I wanted to see what your bed looks like.” She said it as if she’d said “pass the peanuts,” and he was intrigued at the package this woman created. Sweet and innocent on the outside with a dirty little center…
Hell yeah.

He would have never guessed a woman like this would be propositioning him. Especially here in this place that wasn’t really known for hook ups but more for people down in the dumps, but if her luck was looking up, maybe his was too. “There isn’t really anything special about my bed, but the things I’ll do to you while you are in it are something to experience.”

“Is that so?”

“That it is.”

“Well, I’d like to have new experiences.” She slid her hand in his hair, and he practically felt the electric energy that pulsed between them. Ella reminded him of a firecracker or a bullet; she had a lot of power in a little package.

“Would you like another drink?” The bartender was in front of them, and from the tone in her voice, he knew she didn’t like the way this looked. The woman had a thing for him, and he loved to flirt and tease her when he was in the mood, but they weren’t ever going anywhere. Tyson wouldn’t say he’d led her on or he wouldn’t have thought so before this, but looking at the anger in her face made him want to get the woman who’d made him laugh and brought back the fun if only for a short while away from this blow up that was about to happen.

“No. We’re leaving.” Tyson threw a couple of bills on the table, stood up, and wondered what this was. Was she some kind of con woman? If so, she wasn’t going to find much to steal at his place, and he was willing risk it for the sweet piece of ass she seemed to be offering. He waited a few seconds and was rewarded by Ella turning and swinging her long legs as she prepared to get off the stool. The thought crossed his mind to offer a bit of help, but she hopped down without a hitch. She was dressed in a sexy denim mini skirt, and those heels made her look like her legs went on forever. Good trick at her height. Now that he was standing next to her, he would put her at around 5’6”, but to his 6’1” she was still a small gal.

Ella hooked her arm around his and looked up at him. He’d noticed her eyes before, but they didn’t look as green and bright as they did now. “Where are we going, Sonny?”

“We’re off to get you what you seem to be asking for.”

She nodded and looked like she was ready to go, and he waited a few beats for her to tell him no. Sure they met a few minutes ago and it seemed like they both were into each other, but his luck had never been this good. Maybe that was the problem. He should just accept what was going on and be happy about it instead of wondering what was going on.

They walked out into the night, and he enjoyed the click of her heels on the sidewalk, but he wasn’t going to be able to get through this without asking her a few questions. “So do you do this often?”

“What? Pick up strange men from bars?” She had a way of saying things that made light of them and making what he’d asked not so awkward.

“That’s pretty much what I meant, yes.”

“To be honest Sonny, I’ve had a rough time lately, but recently I got out of jail so things are looking up. Life is short, and I just missed a couple of years of mine, so I’m trying to make up for lost time.” She looked sincere, and the smile on her face was contagious because he was smiling just as hard as she was.