Wet Work: A Dark Bad Boy Romance Page 12

  “Of what? Him?”

  I would be able to tell if someone was trouble, right? I had more than enough experience to know. And I knew that in a way he was trouble but who was Abby to tell me I was making a mistake when all I was trying to do was to forget? I had all the arguments in place. I was ready to fight with her about it. I was ready to tell her where to shove her opinion.

  “Of your heart, Leah. I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re looking for something, what I don’t know, but I don’t want you to make your problems worse by making a mistake.”

  It was caring. It was kind. It was nothing I’d expected. It took the wind right out of my sails, and I deflated. “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted in a soft voice, even though I wasn’t sure exactly what I was talking about.

  “Don’t fall back into the spiral where you think giving yourself away is going to make it all better. That’s never the answer.”

  I hated it when she made so much sense. “I like how I feel around him, though. And it’s not just about his charm or his game or anything. He makes me feel safe. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve felt safe?”

  Abby nodded. “Okay, but is it the same for him? If you’re not on the same page about this, and all he’s doing is playing Dr. Phil to get into your pants, you’ll get hurt. It won’t matter then what you got out of it initially. It will matter how many pieces you need to pick up afterward.”

  Ugh, more sense. I nodded. She was right, of course. I knew she was. And I knew I was spiraling again into a dark place that I’d fought to get out of. I wasn’t fighting by myself to get out of it. Instead, I was leaning on Pax.

  I nodded in defeat. She was right, and I was going to have to start sucking it up.

  “Thank you for coming over today,” I said.

  “Of course. It’s what friends do. That, and the fact you scared the shit out of me yesterday.”

  “What about work?”

  “No shoots today.”

  We sat in silence for a while. This was what friends were for. I needed to rely on people like her instead of people like Pax until I got my shit together.

  I couldn’t justify that, though, because the truth was he’d been doing the same thing. He’d been going out of his way to be there for me. A lot of the time it hadn’t even been about sex. Abby was wrong. He wasn’t just in it for the sex. His looks were deceiving. He was a leather-clad, inked-up biker with an arrogant walk and a melt-into-your-panties smile, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be genuine.

  I was willing to believe that. If I wanted to put my trust into someone, it would be Pax. He was around often enough. Abby was right about looking after my heart, but the truth was, I was numb by now. The only time I knew how to feel again was when Pax was with me.

  That counted for something, didn’t it?

  Chapter Eighteen

  I spent most of the day running down leads on the other stiff that had turned up. I came up just as dry has I had on the first. It was time to check in and face the music.

  Our meeting place was an old club that no one had thought about visiting since the eighties. That is until we bought it and turned it into our headquarters. It was an old building just outside of town, and everyone left us alone.

  I liked spending time at the club. The guys were all my kind of people, the only people I could trust in the world, and the place was rundown enough not to make me feel like I was out of place.

  Butch and a couple of the others were already at the club when I pulled up and parked my bike in the line of bikes that were already waiting for their owners to finish. It was a sight to behold; all leather and chrome with an undercurrent of badass. I heard the chatter emanating from inside, and the light that shone through the dirty windows was like welcoming someone home.

  I walked in through the door, and the chatter died down as if they were talking about me. I didn’t like it when people did that. I paused for just a moment, feeling the silence and the tension in the air, and walked to stand next to Butch.

  “About fucking time you dragged your fucking ass in. Do you want to tell us where the fuck you’ve been?” Butch said.

  I eyed him. It felt like he was trying to put me on the spot in front of the others. “I told you. I have an in with the woman who found the body.”

  He nodded slowly. “You said that. You keep telling us that. It’s all you keep saying. We’re wondering if you have something new.”

  I took a deep breath and blew it out. I knew what he was after. I knew it looked bad. “She’s a little more tight-lipped than I would have liked. The police haven’t identified the body. I don’t know about the second one yet.”

  That wasn’t entirely true. She’d told me everything she knew, which wasn’t much at all. She’d also told me other things; things that made me realize how close all of this was to her. I wasn’t going to tell them that, though. That would make it sound like I cared, which I didn’t. It would make it sound like she meant something to me, which she didn’t.

  “Goddamn limp dick pigs! They’re not worth shit! Work your fucking magic, Pax. You’re our info man for a reason.”

  I nodded. I was their go-to guy for Intel for a reason, but this time it was a little trickier. I couldn’t imagine how much harder it would have been if I cared for real. I kept on telling myself that it wasn’t serious and I was determined to believe myself, too.

  Butch looked back at the others, and it was as if they’d agreed on something without me and they were deciding if they should tell me or not. It was starting to piss me off. I didn’t like being left out of the loop. I was part of this club, and they had to tell me what was going on, dammit. They had to keep me informed. It would be ironic if the guy who got all the Intel didn’t know jack shit about what went on behind the scenes.

  “There’s been more,” Butch said. I looked at him. He wasn’t looking back at me. He was staring out at the others as if he wasn’t telling me.

  “More?”

  “Brothers missing.”

  I’d known about at least one more. Another body had been found, and it had made the news.

  “How many?”

  Butch shrugged. “Three more.”

  “That means there are at least two more bodies waiting to be found.”

  Butch nodded.

  The bodies turning up was a sign. One could be an accident, and two a coincidence, but once there were more it pointed to a serial killer, which this town was too small and unimportant for, or an MC that was trying to gain some ground. And dead bodies were right up the Demon Aviators alley.

  “So what do we do?” I was the one asking, but we all knew what this meant. It was a call to action. It was their business card, and they were recruiting. Which meant that we had to step in to stop this carnage and protect our turf. This was turning into a full-on gang war. There was going to be a lot of bloodshed. I liked a good fight as well as the next biker, but unnecessary death didn’t sit well with me any more than it sat well with anyone that bore a conscience.

  I looked at Butch and then at the others who had started talking among themselves. We had to start looking out for our own now. Who knew who would be next? Jonas had already been first, and that made it damn personal. We already had our backs up. If they wanted a war, they were going to get it for sure.

  The rest of the gang got up, and we formed a circle. Butch appointed them all to areas where they had to keep a look out for suspicious activity. We had to keep checking in with each other. Butch wanted me to report directly to him. I couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t trust me.

  When the others finally left, I hung back to speak to Butch alone. He glanced at me and looked irritated with my presence.

  “What the fuck do you want?” His tone of voice was just as hostile as his expression.

  “I wanted to talk to you about your reporting list.”

  He jutted his chin up, the only way I knew he wanted me to keep going. He looked like he wanted to get rid of me.

&nbs
p; I shuffled from one foot to the other, clenching and unclenching my fists. My palms were sweaty. I didn’t know how to say what I wanted to say but somehow I had to get it out there. I had to man up to it. I was a biker with a quick mouth and a heavy fist.

  “I noticed you want me to report directly to you.”

  He looked at me with a blank expression. “So the fuck what? You report to me all the fucking time, just like all these other motherfuckers.”

  I nodded. “I don’t feel like you trust me anymore.”

  His mouth went hard. “Why do you think that, shit waffle?” He was being sarcastic. It didn’t suit him.

  “Goddammit! What’s your problem with me?”

  Butch turned his back on me and walked away. The only reason I let it slide and didn’t act on the anger it coaxed to life inside of me was because he was technically my superior; he was already unhappy with me, and if I got kicked out of the Venom Chasers I had nothing. But it had been very close. I’d almost opened my big mouth and made a snide comment.

  “You haven’t given us jack-shit, Pax,” Butch said as he stopped at the bar and poured a splash of Wild Turkey into a glass. “You’re out dicking around, disappearing for hours, sometimes a day at a time. And you still haven’t given us shit.”

  I frowned. “There has to be something to find before I can find it.”

  Butch raised his eyebrows. “A motherfucking week, Pax. You’ve been fucking around with this bitch for a fucking week, and you still don’t know shit. I don’t care if you fuck her or slit her fucking throat. Stop fucking around with her and find out what she knows. Don’t forget why you’re here and who you are to this club, Pax.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “It’s not a threat. It’s a fucking warning. I can only protect you if you’re one of us and truly committed. That’s not what I’ve been getting from you anymore. If shit turns ugly, and it’s going to, you’re going to want everyone at your back that you can get.”

  I swallowed my words because I understood what he was saying. I didn’t agree, I felt like I could have my own life, but he was right. I needed them at my back if we were heading into a gang war. The one sure-fire way to die was to be the lone ranger when the streets weren’t safe.

  Butch looked at me long and hard, waiting for me to contradict him. I didn’t. Eventually, he nodded.

  “I see we have a fucking understanding,” Butch said, his voice thick and deep.

  Butch shoved past me, and I was alone in the clubhouse; the clubhouse that suddenly seemed depressing. Leaving me alone, he was making a point. Without him, without the club, I was going to be in a fight without anyone alongside me.

  “Fuck ‘em,” I muttered as I walked out, slamming the door behind me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I woke up to the phone ringing. The sound pierced through everything. I’d been drinking again. Alone. At home. I was pathetic. I reached over and dragged the damn phone to my ear and pressed the button to accept the call just so that it would stop ringing.

  “Hello?”

  “Leah? This is James.”

  James was the human resources manager. I didn’t know him very well, but the fact that he was calling couldn’t be good news.

  “Yes?” It was better to pretend like I didn’t know what was going on.

  “How’re you feeling?”

  “I’ve been better.” That, at least, wasn’t a lie. There was silence on the line. It was loaded and uncomfortable.

  “Leah… you’ve missed three days’ work, and you didn’t call in after the first day. Are you… have you been to the doctor? We’re going to need a doctor’s note to excuse these absences.”

  “I know I haven’t come into the lab for a while.”

  “And you didn’t call in. Unless you have a doctor’s letter stating that you shouldn’t return to work, you’re facing disciplinary action.”

  He kept quiet, allowing me the time to answer. I had nothing to say. I didn’t have a valid excuse. Shit had happened, and I’d effectively checked out. When I didn’t say anything, James cleared his throat.

  “You need to come in, Leah. Put simply, if you keep doing this you’re going to lose your job.” His voice was soft and gentle; he was trying to lay it on me nicely, but the truth still hurt.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. We’ll see you in an hour.”

  I put the phone down. I had to get up, get dressed, and go into the lab. I had to pull myself back together again. I had to get my shit together and carry on with the life I’d built for myself. It was a good life. Shit happened to everyone. I was being ridiculous that I struggled to cope with it this much. It was just a body in a bag. It shouldn’t have gotten to me this much.

  The truth was, though, it did. I couldn’t just grin and bear it. I couldn’t swallow it and pretend nothing was wrong, go to work and do my chores with a smile on my face. I lay back down and pulled the covers over my head. I closed my eyes, and the throbbing headache dulled slightly. I wasn’t going to get up and shower. I wasn’t going into work. I was going to close my eyes and sleep until this mess, these nightmares, and the horror that was my life, finally passed. If I lost my job… I could get a new one. People lost their jobs all the time.

  A piercing sound woke me up hours later, and I slammed my hand onto my phone on the bedside table, intending to refuse the call so that the shrill screaming would stop. When it didn’t, I squinted my eyes at the phone and realized it wasn’t ringing. The sound wasn’t from the phone but from my doorbell, and I was too confused to know the difference.

  I sat up and rubbed my eyes. The clock told me I’d slept for four more hours. My headache was practically gone. If I’d known in a past life that ignoring reality cured hangovers, I would have done this ages ago.

  The doorbell rang again, and I was starting to get irritated with Abby because she just wouldn’t get the picture and leave me the hell alone. I pulled on a robe and raked my fingers through my hair, hoping to make myself look at least half decent, but I didn’t check in a mirror to see if I succeeded. I opened the door, ready to tell Abby to mind her own business. I swallowed my words when I saw who it was.

  Mark Suttman himself stood on my doorstep. He was a big man with a strong jaw and dark hair. His eyes were the color of the ocean, which I’d always thought was fitting, and his hair had started to gray at the temples.

  “Mark.” I pulled my robe closed around me, aware that I wasn’t wearing something to face my boss in.

  “Leah,” he said in a voice that told me he knew. I sighed. I could handle disappointment from almost anyone in the world, but I didn’t want Mark to be disappointed in me. I stepped to the side so he wouldn’t be forced to stand outside, even though I was aware of the state my house was in. I hadn’t cleaned in ages.

  “Want some coffee?” I mumbled as I closed the door.

  “No,” he said as he sat down on the couch.

  “I thought you were in Monterrey.”

  Mark nodded. “I came back early.” I wanted to ask why but I was scared that it would be because of me, so I didn’t. “I hear you haven’t been to the lab in a while.” I nodded without looking at him. I didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes. It was bad enough that I knew it was there. “I also heard what happened. You can’t run away from this. It’s nothing you did wrong, and you’re just giving it the power to ruin your life.”

  I dared to look up at him and regretted it. He wasn’t angry like I’d expected. He wasn’t even sympathetic, which would have been my next guess. There was pity on his face, and if there was one thing I hated in the world, it was pity.

  “You have so much potential, Leah. I hate to see you throw it away. This person that’s sitting in front of me now isn’t you. The ocean is your passion. Don’t throw it all away.”

  I nodded. I wanted to tell him that yes, he was right, and no, I wouldn’t ruin my career. I wanted to admit that wasting my potential was a shame, but I couldn’t do what he expect
ed. I couldn’t go back there. The sight of water was something that made me feel sick to my stomach now, the same way it had been when I’d seen all the places I used to love back in Indiana. The ocean was no longer my passion. The potential to work in the field of marine biologist had disappeared. Mark was sitting on my couch in vain.

  “I appreciate you coming,” I said when Mark finally got up. “Thank you for taking the time.”

  “Just take care of yourself, Leah. I’m willing to overlook this… but you have to talk to someone, and you have to return to work and do your job. I’ll work with you, but you have to meet me halfway.”

  I nodded. “Thank you,” I whispered as I escorted him out of my house.