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I’m standing casually against the wall of the deserted alleyway; a half-smoked cigarette wrapped in the fingers of one hand, the other shoved into the pocket of my jeans. I’m watching my President Kick play cat and mouse with the asswipe standing in front of him in a pressed linen suit, a briefcase holding the two hundred and fifty thousand dollars he stole from us on the ground beside him.
Okay, technically, he’d stolen it from Kon, Kick’s brother, who was the Mafia Don of all the U.S., but the money was ours for work we had done for Kon—I can tell he’s about to piss himself, and I can’t help but chuckle.
I look down as I throw the cigarette butt to the ground, stomping on it with a heavy booted foot. The sound of a gunshot had me whipping my head up just in time to see the suited pretty boy dropping to the ground; blood already pooling around his head.
I close my eyes tight. Shit! I know exactly what this means. We’re going to have to call Max, Kon’s trusted cleaner. We used him in the past when needed, thankfully rarely. Seeing him just brought back thoughts of the little spitfire I met almost ten years ago, a girl that has grown into a woman, who is every man’s wet dream. A woman I can’t seem to get out of my mind even though she’s married and has the perfect life. What the fuck did you expect? You told her to get lost after you took her virginity.
But truth be told, I wasn’t ready for a relationship back then. Heck, I wasn’t ready for a relationship now. A life as a biker’s ol’ lady isn’t the life for a woman like Zoe. Kick’s voice infiltrates my thoughts.
“Call Max and get his cleaning crew out here ASAP.”
“Already on it.” I reply, retrieving my phone from the pocket of my cut, and dialing the cleaner’s number. After a few rings, I was about to hang up when someone finally answered the call. But instead of the man I was expecting, it was Zoe’s soft, lilting tone on the other end.
“Little one, it’s Chains. We need your dad here ASAP.” I dive in headfirst. Best get this shit over and done with. The line was so quiet, I thought she hung up on me.
“Give me the address, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she replies, and I frown.
“Didn’t you hear me, I said we need Max?”
“I heard you loud and clear,” she grits out, and I can tell she’s holding onto her anger by a thread.
“My father has retired; I’ve taken over the business from him. Now give me the damn address, or do you have someone else you trust to call?”
I give her the address, and this time, she hangs up the phone on me.
“Fuck me, I’m screwed.” I mumble, returning to where Kick was standing. “Spoke to Zoe, seems she’s taken over from her dad. She’ll be here soon.”
My Prez and club brother arches a brow. “And how are you with that?”
“I’m fine, brother.” I tell him when inside I’m anything but fine, but I wasn’t going to tell my president that.
Less than half an hour later, a dark blue nondescript van was pulling up at the entrance to the alleyway, and I moved toward the woman sliding out of the front driver’s side. Before I knew what I was doing, I had my hands around her waist, helping her down to the ground.
Wearing overalls and a yellow T-shirt underneath, my mouth waters for a taste of what her clothes are hiding. It's been over ten years, but damn, thinking about her body still turns me the fuck on.
Her auburn locks that used to reach almost down to her ass are now cut in a pixie style around her face, which doesn’t detract from the beauty that she is. It’s a shock seeing her hair so short, as I was used to the long locks. She frowns up at me, batting my hands away. But before that, I could see the lust flare just for a second in her beautiful green orbs.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I drawl, arching a brow in question.
“Whatever it is, just stop it. You lost the right to touch me like that a long time ago.” she informs me. Attempting to move past me, but I don’t let her, caging her in between her van and my body.
“Worried you might feel something if I do?”
She snorts, placing both her hands on my chest in an attempt to push me away.
“Hardly. Now move.”
It was all I could do not to grin like a loon. We’ve been playing this game for the past eight years, since she married that asshole. I get in her space, prove that she still feels something for me, while she denies it all day long. Why I do it, I have no fucking idea. I should just
leave her alone to live her life. But something keeps me coming back for more. I tap her left ass cheek, and she yelps before I move aside, letting her pass.
Sending one of her withering looks my way, she storms toward Kick, who is crouched beside the dead guy.
“What have you got for me?” I hear her ask my Prez, one of her bright smiles planted on the lips I would die to kiss right now.
“Hey darlin,” he greets her, and I tighten my hands into fists at my sides at his use of the endearment.
