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“You left the party early,” Blake said, looking around as if sensing some sort of hidden danger lurking nearby. “Everything okay?”
Chapter 1
Madigan’s Bar and Grill always seemed like the place to be, and on this particular Wednesday night there were only a few empty seats. All five flatscreen televisions were tuned to various sports games, and the patrons were keeping the place at a loud roar between their cheering and excited chatter.
FBI Agent Blake O’Connell rubbed at his shoulder for the millionth time tonight before glancing over at the table behind him.
“How about you keep your hands to yourself,” Nico said, loud enough to be heard over the patrons currently talking and cheering at Madigan’s Bar and Grill. The place reeked of booze and leather, and the unmistakable scent of a mix of ladies’ perfumes.
“How about you mind your own business.” The dark-haired man wearing a Cowboy’s t-shirt and blue jeans answered. He was in the company of three other men and all of them looked to be plastered.
But those men were the least of Blake’s concerns. Nico Moreno, better known as Nicholas Jamoretti, was the only son of the Deathly Hollow Motorcycle Club’s president, Arlo J, and for the life of him, Blake couldn’t figure out why in the world Skyla would hire him. The FBI was currently investigating the club for trafficking drugs, weapons, and women. The thought of arresting Nico for getting into a fight over defending a woman’s honor felt ironic considering how the MC generally treated women.
It definitely wasn’t how Blake imagined bringing in the twenty something year old. But then again, nothing about this assignment had turned out the way Blake had anticipated.
“Touch another woman in this bar and I’ll have security throw you out,” Nico barked.
Blake’s gaze followed Nico as he carried a tray of empty glasses into the kitchen. When he didn’t immediately re-emerge, Blake’s thoughts drifted to Skyla. He’d seen her car parked in the alley behind the building earlier, but she hadn’t yet made an appearance at the bar.
The woman was a workaholic. Never took a day off on days Madigan’s was open, so it was odd she hadn’t been on the floor yet, given that it was already after ten o’clock.
“Would you like another one?” Ellie, one of the bartenders asked. Her short blonde hair was spiked and the tips were dyed a fuchsia pink. She wore heavy eyeliner that brought out her sea blue eyes, and a dark lipstick that made her mouth look black. She had a small diamond stud in her nose, and large hoop earrings that shimmered in the low lighting of the bar.
“I’m good for now.” Blake shifted in his seat. He wasn’t here to drink and he was itching to leave. Sitting around and waiting for something to happen wasn’t in his nature. But after the way he’d fucked up the last case he was put in charge of, he couldn’t blame his friend and immediate supervisor for giving him a case that required him to do what seemed like a whole lot of nothing.
Blake didn’t mind the mindless chit chat with strangers or the way the occasional woman would hit on him or ask him out, or even the fact that the employees were starting to memorize his order, likely pegging him for a closet drunk since he never came in with any of his friends like he used to. No, what irked him was that everything his friend and colleague, Agent Caden Dobbs, had told him about this place seemed to be slightly off.
For starters, the man who owned Madigan’s, Royce Madigan, hadn’t made even one appearance since Blake started coming here regularly over two months ago. That suggested he either wasn’t aware of his bar’s involvement in the shady business with a local motorcycle club, or he’d found a way to hide his affairs well enough to throw off even the most trained law enforcement officers. But after reviewing all the evidence the FBI had collected on the MC, there was no doubt Madigan’s was somehow involved with them.
Initially, Blake surmised Royce was using his bar for money laundering or the storing of drugs that the Deathly Hollow MC were known for distributing around the city. Royce’s gambling habits were no secret, so the FBI didn’t think it was too big of a stretch for him to get involved with drugs.
Caden had given Blake this assignment because his presence wouldn’t draw too much attention. Skyla, and most of the staff here already knew him. Of course, Blake didn’t want to be the guy who brought down the father of one of their acquaintances, but with Skyla’s most recent hiring decision, it seemed like it was only a matter of time.
It was surprising how well Nico seemed to fit in. He even played the role of a perfect gentleman around the ladies, almost as if this whole thing had been planned out. As long as no one counted all the glasses he broke. As if on cue, a small crash sounded from the kitchen, and Blake sighed. He’d become so accustomed to the sound; it was practically part of Madigan's new ambiance.
Blake wasn’t sure if this clumsy act was part of Nico’s cover, or if the guy was a natural clutz, but either way, it was working for him. As were his charming good looks. Blake didn’t miss how nearly every woman who walked into this place, whether she was with someone or not, practically threw herself at the guy. If they only knew who he was - who his father was - they’d run as far and as fast as they could from him.
Madigan’s was arguably the most popular and successful bar in the Dallas area. Blake always thought it was because of Royce’s business experience, but after spending some time here, it was more than obvious that all of this success was because of Skyla. She was the one who showed up early and stayed late. She did the marketing, the books, and always filled in whenever someone called in sick, not asking her hardworking employees to come in on their days off or work late when they had kids or a family to go home to.
Blake had known Skyla for years, but he’d never really taken the time to get to know her. Seeing her work ethic these last few weeks, the way she ran a tight, but fair ship, how she treated everyone with respect and kindness, made him wonder what else he didn’t know about her.
Another loud crash sounded in the kitchen and Blake shook his head, wondering why in the world Skyla kept Nico around if she didn’t know who he really was. Unless of course, she did.
As much as Blake hated to admit it, denying the very real possibility that Skyla was the one doing business with the violent motorcycle club was becoming increasingly harder. And if that was the case, she was putting herself and all their friends in very real danger.
***
Skyla Madigan sat up on the cot tucked away in the corner of her small office, her body still heavy with exhaustion from the healing she’d performed on another one of AJ’s goons. She had no idea who the guy was or what his name was. She never asked and AJ never told her, which worked out just fine for her. She didn’t know anyone by name in the Deathly Hollow MC except for AJ, and they didn’t know who she was, which was exactly how she wanted it.
The sound of glasses clattering to the floor had woken her, but it was the sound of more glasses breaking on the old brick tiles in the kitchen that had her scrambling off her narrow cot and racing to the kitchen.
“Nico!” She ran a hand through her hair and slipped off the hair elastic from her wrist to tie her long dark locks into a messy bun at the top of her head.
She burst through the double doors and nearly stepped on the shards of glass scattered in the entryway. “Nico?” Her eyes met his gaze. The dark haired, blue eyed, overly tattooed man that towered over her looked more like a rock star than a bartender. It was one of the reasons she gave Nico Moreno the job. All the women swooned over him, and she swore female attendance had risen significantly since he first started working at Madigan’s.
“Sorry,” Nico said with his sexy accent. “I was rushing to get the ladies their drinks and a few glasses may have slipped. You know how it is.”
Skyla rolled her shoulders and sighed. “Next time it comes out of your paycheck. And I mean it this time,” she said, hoping to add a trace of validity to her empty threat. The man had already cost her more in glasses than anyone who had ever worked for her. If not for the uptick in attendance and sales, he would’ve been canned on his second day.
