Twisted Asphalt (Asphalt Outlaw Series Book 1) (3 page)

CHAPTER 4

Mood killer much?

Stone’s voice was hard and threatening. Mace silently prayed
Stone wasn’t about to stomp a mudhole in his ass and walk it out. Luckily, he
was still holding Amy’s injured wrist in his hand.

Mace glanced at the wide-eyed Amy, who looked like a deer
caught in headlights. He cleared his throat and stepped away from her, patting
the top of the wrapped wrist. “Amy here hurt her wrist when she was wrestling
with Maggie. It was swollen, so I figured I would wrap it up for her before it
got worse and she’d have to go to the doctor to have it looked at.”

He moved away from Amy as she turned toward the stove and
the now whistling pot. While she poured them a cup, he moved to the table,
glancing at Stone. He had what might have been an amused look on his face, or
well, at least that was what he hoped it was. He quietly thanked Amy for the
cup of tea when she handed it to him.

“I need a word with the prospect, Ames.” Stone pulled out a
chair for him at the kitchen table, lowering his bulky form into it. “Alone.”

Ah shit, here we go.

Amy looked at Mace, then back to her dad. “Sure, okay.”
Grabbing her cup, she nodded to the men and headed out of the kitchen.

Stone watched his daughter leave, then turned his attention
back to Mace.

Mace wanted to squirm. He felt like he got caught with his
damn pants around his ankles, jacking off to a porn magazine. The deadpan gaze
Stone gave him was something Mace had perfected years ago, but he had a feeling
it came natural to fathers. He understood if Stone was going to tear into him
for being so close to Amy, but one thing Mace was not, was a pussy. He would
not back down from the man. He was a firm believer in fighting fire with fire,
but he would never disrespect him.

“We’re organizing a run right now. I know you’ve gone with
Romeo on a stint and proved you know your stuff. This isn’t a territorial
dispute, this is bigger.”

As Stone paused to light a cigarette, Mace laughed
internally. He was glad there wasn’t going to be an ass chewing, but was taken
aback by the idea of going on a run only patch holders went on.

“You’ll be led by Demon, and followed by a truck carrying
the merchandise. Axe and Saber will catch rear. Romeo and I will scout ahead
for any interference.”

Mace grimaced at hearing he had to ride with Demon. There
was something about that douchebag that didn’t sit well with him. He was shady
and it seemed like no one else saw it, or they overlooked it.

“Problem?” Stone asked, brow raised.

Alan James was not a small man by any means. He was one of
those big dudes you didn’t want to meet in a dark alley because he was going to
own your ass. Six foot two, two hundred some odd pounds and scars to prove the
battles the man had fought in. Black hair salted with gray, steel-blue eyes,
square jaw with a goatee. Mace knew he had been a Marine and wasn’t scared of
anything, and he doted on his daughter.

“No, I just don’t trust Demon.” Why lie? He knew Stone hated
liars, plus, Mace was a blunt guy.

“You shouldn’t. He’s crazy and you never know what he’s
thinking.”

Brows furrowed, looking at Stone from over the cup when he
took a sip. Setting the cup down, head cocked slightly, one eye narrowing in
thought. “This may be out of line, but if you can’t trust him, why is he your
sergeant at arms?”

Stone chuckled, taking a drag of the cigarette, leaning back
to blow smoke away from him. “You’re right, that question is out of line, but a
good one. Demon is crazy as they come, but he’s also loyal as a pit bull, with
just as nasty of a bite. One I wouldn’t be afraid to put down if I had to.”

Veiled threat? Maybe
. “Heard. Where will we be
going?”

“Lompoc. And we’ll be getting enough out of this to retire on.”
Stone grinned large and in charge.

“I can handle that. I appreciate you allowing me to ride.”
Mace had to thank him. All decisions like that were solely made by the
president and some feathers were going to be ruffled. He didn’t give a rat’s
ass either. This was a prime opportunity to show his worth. A huge sigh came
from the other room, drawing his attention to the living room area. Her little
antics were adorable; she was going to drive him crazy.

Seemed Stone was not immune to the subtle hint either. He
leaned forward, dropping his voice to a dangerous level. “You fuck this up and
you’re a dead man.”

And that was his cue to leave.

Curt nod was given. Pushing away from the table, Mace
grabbed his cup and took it to the sink to rinse it out. Once it was clean, he
set it aside and made his way to the door. Before his hand hit the knob, Stone
spoke up, warning clear as day in his voice. “One hundred and thirty acres is a
lot of land to hide a body on if you lay a finger on my daughter.”

Mace never looked back. There was no need to. Smiling to
himself, he opened the door and stepped out, allowing the door to shut quietly
behind him.

* * * *

It was hotter than a June bride sitting bareback on a depot
stove. Amy was burning up and so was her champion overo, Little Joe. She had
slipped on a bikini top and her thinnest tank, ripped and frayed jean shorts,
and an old pair of boots to head into the barn. Her baby needed a good
scrubbing and a cool off.

Grabbing her scrub brush, she dunked it in the bucket, slinging
water and soap everywhere when she lifted back up. Scrubbing along his neck,
Amy grumbled to her horse. “He’s a total ass. The prospect seriously needs to
learn his place. Trying to kiss me.” She enjoyed it a little too much. He
wasn’t the type to take no for an answer, and in that moment, there was no
telling him no. Was she going to tell him that? Hell no.

The black-and-white paint shifted his weight, pawing at the
grass. Realizing she was scrubbing too hard, Amy patted his shoulder. “Sorry,
boy. He’s just so damn frustrating. Be thankful you’re a horse.” Tossing the
brush in the bucket, she scooped up the hose to rinse out his mane.

“Mace really thinks he’s all that and a bag of chips. I
mean, yeah, he’s good looking. But that doesn’t mean he’s got to flaunt it.”
She saw the way women all but threw themselves at him at the party. Granted,
they were your typical pass-arounds, but he ate it up. One thing she could say
about him, he never touched any of them. Even Maggie told her that he was
untouchable, that the ol’ladies had a pool going on who he would nail first.

Amy glanced around the barn toward the back of the house.
Not seeing anyone, she peeled off her tank top. May as well get some sun while
bathing Little Joe. She laid the top over the tie post before scooping up the
hose once more to wet his hind quarters. “All right. Maybe he’s not that bad.”
But he was still a prospect.

“Who’s not that bad?”

Amy jumped clean out of her skin at the voice that sent
chills down her spine. Whirling around, she saw Mace leaning against the barn
door, arms folded over his bare chest, with a smug look on his face.

She couldn’t help but stare. He was a force to be reckoned
with. Mace was a feral beast wrapped in a tight bundle of raw sexuality. His
body glistened with sweat under the rays of sun, beads of sweat trickling down
his torso with agonizing slowness, only to disappear under the waistband of his
jeans. Amy’s eyes roamed over him, taking note of the tattoos gracing his chest
and flat abdomen, and just how much her mouth ached when her eyes finally
reached the V juncture from stomach to hip.

“Amy?”

The low tenure of his voice brought her out of her reverie,
a single shoulder shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“That I think I’m all that?” Brow rose up under the mussed
bangs that hung low over silver eyes. “Actually, darlin’…”He pushed off the
door jam and stalked toward her. “I’ve heard not only am I all that and a bag
of chips, but a sandwich and a thirty-two ounce coke.”

Oh dear Lord, how much had he heard? Her cheeks burned,
though it was minimalized by the ache her body felt from the way he looked at
her. His look told her he was starving and she was going to be his last meal.

“You are incorrigible,” she squealed at him. Reaching down,
she scooped up a sponge and threw it at him.

Her aim sucked.

The soap-filled sponge splatted Mace right upside his head.

The look written on his face spoke of severe retaliation.
All Amy could do was run. Bolting around the horse, she let out a cry of
surprise when water poured over her head. Left sputtering, she darted around
Little Joe to see Mace in a fit of laughter up against the post the paint was
tied to.

Payback was a bitch and her name was Amethyst James.

Amy fled for the hose. Mace stopped laughing when he got
doused by the spray of water coming from the hose she held. He was an Adonis.
There was no question of that as he stood there water dripping off his hard
body. Her breath ceased to exist when he tossed his head back, leaving a single
strand lying across his chiseled features.

“I know you didn’t just…”

Amy wiggled her brows, rocking side to side with a slow nod.
“Oh yeah. I did. And I’ll do it again.”

The yelp of shock, followed by him charging for her, was
enough to get her feet moving. Amy dropped the hose, and with a peal of
laughter, darted for the barn a minute too late.

“Umph!” The air rushed out of her when she was tackled to a
pile of hay in the next to last stall. It prickled her skin, but went unnoticed
when Mace’s weight lowered onto her. He had her wrists pinned above her head
with his left hand, his right cupping her hip. She gulped for air as his hand
tenderly moved up her rib cage, the calloused palm sending goose bumps along
her body. Her shiver seemed to urge him further, burying his nose against her neck,
rubbing it along her jawline with a painfully slow movement.

Amy gasped, arms straining against his hold, her back
arching, pushing her chest against the solid planes of his chest. A whimper
escaped her when he bit her lower lip in tender abandon, his hand pausing to
give a gentle caress under her bikini line.

She ignored the whinny of the horse in the next stall, not
allowing it to interrupt the exquisite torture Mace provided. Her breaths
became heated pants, the horse’s neigh becoming shrill as Mace’s lips traveled
down her breastbone, her body writhing under his weight.

The shrill grew louder, hurting her ears.

Bolting upright, her body drenched with sweat and throbbed
with a need only a certain man could provide. Shaking off the dream that gave her
the worst set of pink balls a woman could get, it dawned on her that the shrill
was her phone ringing. Amy frowned and picked it up, not recognizing the
number. It was three o’clock in the damn morning. Accepting the call, she
huffed into the phone. “It’s three a.m. This had better be good.”

CHAPTER 5

The red and blue strobe lights were going to give her a
migraine.

Red. Blue. Red. Blue.

The wail of the siren wasn’t helping either.

Burrowing deeper into Maggie’s arms, Amy wondered why she
had no tears. She knew she should, but it was as if she didn’t have any tears
left to shed. She glanced to the side when another set of arms wrapped around
her. Antonia, her cross-dressing employee and friend, gave her the warmest
smile Amy knew he could muster at a time like this. She tried to smile back at
him, but couldn’t.

Amy could only stare at the devastation of what was left of
her mother’s store. Police were milling about, spreading black dust over
everything while they fingerprinted every inch of the building. Someone had
broken in and tossed the place. All the windows were smashed, furniture thrown
through them, books torn off shelves, papers strewn about, all of her barista
equipment destroyed. The worst was the graffiti spray painted on the outside.
Crude words were attached to her name, along with the Temer Gallo MC tag.

Why would they put a price on her head? It didn’t make any
sense. They had buried the hatchet years ago when Stone killed the president
for murdering his childhood best friend. Sure, they were still rivals, but it
was peaceful between the two. They ran Lompoc to Santa Barbara; Six-Guns ran
Orcutt to San Luis Obispo.

“Who in their damned right mind would do this to you, babe?”
Antonia shook his head, pushing the twists out of his eyes. Dark caramel
colored skin offset jet black long braided hair, light hazel eyes stood out
from under the false eyelashes he wore regularly. Silken bath robe of red was
over a white tank top and boy shorts, fuzzy bunny slippers topped it all off.
Tall, unbelievably good looking and statuesque, Antonia was a diva and one of
Amy’s best friends.

“I have no idea, Antonia.” She shook her head and stepped
out of his arms, hearing the familiar rumble of a band of Harleys making their
way to the scene. “Shit.”

That sound meant her father and the boys were on their way.
When they saw the tag, they were going to do something dumb. Her dad would call
for retaliation. How the hell was she going to stop it from going down?

Six bikes roared onto the scene, whipping around to park.
Helmets were ripped off and tossed to seats. All the men ran up to the
distressed trio.

Tears began to flow when she saw the look of worry on her
father’s face. She let go of Maggie and ran into his arms, unable to stop the
heart wrenching sobs that left her. So much for being the bad ass chick trying
to stop the retaliation that would come out of this horrible situation.

Stone cradled Amy’s face in his hands, then gently brushed
the tears from her eyes. “We got this. This is tiny compared to what we’ve had
to deal with. We will rebuild and make it bigger. I promise.”

Amy stared into her father’s eyes, desperately wanting to
believe him. She needed to believe everything was going to be okay. “It was
Mom’s stuff. The last of it.”

Stone hugged Amy tight, kissing the top of her head. He
released his hold on her as Demon walked up.

Demon’s black eyes glittered with malicious intent, grin
forming as he hiked a thumb to the damaged building. “Who the fuck did you piss
off?”

Amy pushed away from her dad. How dare he speak to her like
that! This was her mother’s store and he was going to deface her mother’s
memory by accusing her of pissing someone off?

Antonia, overdramatically sashayed his way in between Demon
and her, and cut her off. Fanning himself, Antonia welled up huge alligator
tears, placing his hand on Demon’s chest, cherry-poppin’ red nails standing out
against the black of his vest. His feminine voice waivered, “Please, Demon,
hold me. I’m scared.” Lashes fluttered in a very Southern Belle way, his body
visibly shivering in made-up fear.

Amy tried not to laugh at the damsel in distress act Antonia
laid on Demon, but judging by the look on Demon’s face, Antonia might face an
ass beating like no other. Antonia moved away from Demon with a pout. “Not even
man enough to help poor, lil' ol' me.”

Mace walked up, holding his arms out and open, a grin
plastered on his face from ear to ear. “Come here, honey. I’ll protect you from
the big nasty man.”

A squeal filled the air as Antonia launched himself into Mace’s
awaiting arms. “A real man!”

Amy’s eyes met Mace’s when he enveloped Antonia in a bear
hug, swinging him back and forth. She mouthed a thank you to him as Stone and
Romeo burst out laughing at the comical antics of her friend and employee.

“Hate to break up this love fest, but I need to talk to you,
Stone.”

Amy started at the voice behind her, not having heard anyone
walk up to them. She turned to see a deputy they had known for a while. “Deputy
Perez. What’s wrong?” She looked between Stone and Perez, a knot formed in her
stomach.

“What’s up, Miguel?” Stone pulled Amy close, keeping his arm
around her. “Whatever you have to say, can be said here.”

Everyone clustered around Amy and Stone, wanting to know
what was going on, forcing the deputy to take a step back.

“They found something in the store I wanted you to look at.”

Amy looked up in confusion at her dad, then to Perez. “What
did you find? It’s not like you’re going to find anything illegal in my
mother’s store.” If her family was using her store for their activities, she
was going to kill someone. The store was too small for gun running, and they
had their brothels in another area. That meant they were using her shop in
their extortion schemes.

“Are you sure about this, Stone?” Perez cleared his throat,
ignoring Amy while his eyes pleaded with Stone.

“Wipe the sand out of your vagina, Miguel and just tell us
what the hell you found.”

Shaking his head, Perez rested his hands on the leather
utility belt and his service weapon. “We found a rooster that had its throat
slit on the register countertop with a note that said Amy was next.”

It was a good thing her father held her up. Amy’s world swam
when the news sunk in. The Temer Gallo really were sending a message. Why now?
Why her? They had lived in peace for over eighteen years. None of this made
sense.

Demon growled from behind her. “We need a protection detail
on Ames. I’ll take first shift.”

Stone held up his hand at Demon, handing a now pissed off
Amy to her brother. “Just cool your jets, Demon.” He looked back at the deputy.
“Are you sure it was directed toward Amy?”

Pissed off didn’t even begin to describe what Amy felt. She
didn’t need protection. She needed a gun to kill whoever did this to her
business. It would take weeks, maybe months, to get it cleaned up and opened
again.

“I’m positive. We think the note was in the rooster’s
blood.”

Stone shook his head. “Not good enough. I want to know
exactly what that note said.”

Perez looked to Amy, then back to Stone, obviously very
uncomfortable discussing it in front of her. “Fine.” Stone walked with the
deputy away from prying ears.

Amy whirled and slammed her index finger into Romeo’s chest.
She didn’t care if he stood four inches taller and outweighed her by a hundred
pounds. Eyes narrowed as she hissed at him, "I swear to God, Zen. If you
had anything to do with this.”

His hands flew up in defense, shaking his bald head. “I
swear this has nothing to do with our business, Ames. We wouldn’t do that to
you or Mom, and I’m hurt you actually think we would.”

“If your little feel goods are hurt because I’m making sure
they’re not going to find anything illegal in my store, then maybe you need to
be wearing an Ol’Ladies patch.”

“Damn, Ames. Calm down.” Romeo glared at her.

Amy never used his real name unless she meant business, and
right now, she was all business. She stopped the verbal onslaught at seeing her
dad make his way back to the group, alone.

Stone released a breath, fingers absently rubbing his goatee
as he stared at Amy. Lips pursed, hand relaxed on his hip. “Mace, you’re on
protection detail. You’ve become Amy’s personal body guard.”

“What?” Amy cried out in surprise. “Why?”

Demon’s face grew in rage; he stormed off to climb on his
bike and tear out of the parking lot, leaving the crew in a plume of smoke.

“Dad! I can take care of myself. This is ridiculous!”
What
the hell did that note say?
It had to be pretty damn bad for her dad to put
a protection detail on her. “What did it say?”

Stone shrugged, turning to walk toward his bike. “That’s for
me to know.”

“What did it say?” Amy bolted out of Romeo’s grasp, heading
after her dad. She wanted to know what had him so worried. It had to be
something pretty bad if he was walking away to avoid looking at her.

Picking up his helmet, he turned, “I’ve already lost my
wife. I’m not losing my daughter too.” Strapping on the helmet, he glanced at
Mace while pulling on his gloves. “Pack your shit. There’s a room in the barn
by the house. It has a cot and a small dresser in it. That’s where you’ll be
staying.”

Antonia clapped his hands together, batting his lashes at
Mace. “That’s where all the studs are kept.”