Chapter Twenty-Seven
Throttle
A blast of arctic air poured into the clubhouse as Detectives McCue and Ibuado opened the door. Throttle shifted in his chair and gestured for another shot of whiskey. The last thing he wanted to do was field questions from the fuckin’ badges. He doubted they were here about Christiansen or Garret, but the little problem the Insurgents had taken care of at Bridgewater’s farm was another story. Before McCue could reach him, he downed his shot, the smoky flavor and bite warming him.
“How’s it going, Throttle?” McCue asked as he took out a stick of gum.
“I can’t complain,” he answered, his gaze fixed straight ahead.
“It’s like the damn North Pole out there.” McCue moved into Throttle’s field of vision.
“You didn’t come here to give me a fuckin’ weather report.”
Ibuado chuckled. “No, we didn’t. We have some questions we wanted to ask you and the other club members.”
“The women as well,” added McCue.
“I don’t know anything you’d want to know, so you’re wasting your time,” Throttle replied as Hog placed another shot on the table and ambled away.
“That’s the thing with people. They never think they know anything, but when they start thinking about it, they actually know a whole lot of things. Where were you last Tuesday night?”
Throttle picked up his glass, sipped slowly then put it back down on the table. Stretching his legs in front of him, he looked pointedly at the detective. “I was home with my woman.”
“You weren’t at Chad Bridgewater’s place?” McCue’s jaw moved incessantly.
“No reason to be there. Chad and me aren’t close.”
“What about the other guys around here?” Ibuado asked.
“Don’t know, but if I had to guess, everyone was where they were supposed to be.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Ibuado said.
“Hitched brothers were with their old ladies and single ones were enjoying themselves at the club with the club women. Just an ordinary night.”
“We need to speak with the club women. How many you got living here?” McCue took out another stick of gum.
Throttle held the detective’s gaze for several seconds and the tension between them hissed. “Six.”
McCue shoved the stick of gum into his mouth. “We need to speak to them. Get them.”
Anger bristled inside him. “They’re resting.”
“You guys wear them out?” The detective’s lip curled.
“The brothers leave them satisfied.”
“McCue, what the hell are you doing here?” Banger’s voice broke through the tension.
“Just asking Throttle if we can talk to the club girls.”
“Why do you wanna talk to them?” Banger turned to the bar. “Two shots over here.”
McCue and Ibuado shook their heads. “We’re on duty, but thanks,” said Ibuado.
“Don’t sweat it. The shots aren’t for you.” He took the two glasses from Hog and gave one to Throttle. After downing it, he put the glass on the table. “You didn’t answer me.”
“We’re the ones asking the questions,” Ibuado replied.
“They’re not available. We’re busy around here.” Banger pointed to the door. “You can let yourselves out.”
“Where were you last Tuesday night?” McCue asked.
Banger scratched his head. “Tuesday,” he muttered under his breath. “I was with my old lady and kids.”
“You weren’t at Chad Bridgewater’s farm?” Banger slowly shook his head. “Are you sure about that?” McCue took a tissue out of his pocket and spit his gum in it.
“Yeah, I’m sure. I have nothing with Chad. I haven’t seen him in a long time. Why you asking?”
“Didn’t you threaten him to stop selling drugs in the county a couple of years ago?”
Banger laughed and Throttle joined in. “We don’t threaten. We ask nicely.”
“That’s right,” Throttle added.
Ibuado leaned against the table. “What happens if someone doesn’t listen when you ask nicely?”
“Then we keep asking nicely.” Throttle shifted in his chair. “We got shit to do around here. You guys done?”
“Hardly,” Ibuado answered.
Banger cleared his throat. “I don’t know what more to tell you. I haven’t seen Chad in over a year. Have you seen him around town, Throttle?” Throttle shook his head.
“He was killed late last Tuesday along with Beau Larker, Randy Lyon, and Calvin Schwind. His farmhouse was set on fire and several large metal containers were destroyed. Do you know anything about that?”
Banger scratched his beard. “Fuck. Chad must’ve really pissed someone off.”
“His great-granddaughter was spending the night at the farmhouse.” McCue narrowed his eyes.
“Damn. That’s terrible,” Throttle said.
“She was taken away before Bridgewater was murdered. She said a man with a leather jacket took her away. He blindfolded her.”
“And you think it was one of us because we wear leather jackets? I don’t think we’re the only ones in Pinewood Springs wearing them.” Banger laughed.
“A woman dropped her off early in the morning at her parents’ house.” McCue took out another stick of gum.
“So that’s why you wanna bug our club women? You think one of them dropped her off? What the fuck are you smoking? Our club women are busy early in the morning. Every morning.” Throttle sniggered and bumped his arm against Banger who chuckled.
“Check with my old lady and Throttle’s. Neither of us was near Chad’s place.”
Ibuado flipped through his notebook. “We already did. We checked with all of the members’ wives and girlfriends. They corroborate what you’re saying.”
“There you have it. Like I said, we’re busy.” Banger turned away and walked toward the hallway leading to his office.
Throttle stood up. “I got shit to do.” He walked away and went over to the bar where Wheelie and Tiny sat and took the stool next to them, his back to the detectives. When the cold blast of air coiled around him, he knew they’d left.
“What did the fuckin’ badges want?” Wheelie asked.
“Wanted to find out what we were doin’ on Tuesday night. Seems like some people torched and killed Chad Bridgewater and his loser cohorts.” The three men guffawed.
“Feel like a pool game?” Tiny asked.
“Sure. I got time. Kimber’s coming home late tonight.” Throttle picked up his glass of whiskey and sauntered over to the pool table with Tiny and Wheelie following close behind. Taking out three joints, he handed one to each of them and they lit up, enjoying the weed they stole from Chad’s place the week before.
Grabbing a pool cue, he walked to the table, bent down low, and took the first shot.
* * *
Throttle put the ribs he’d picked up at Big Rocky’s into the oven. Kimber would be home soon and he wanted to surprise her with dinner. He’d planned on asking her to marry him after the charity event a couple of nights before, but with the snatching of Braxton and Harley, all focus was on getting the boys and making the dirtbags pay.
He wrapped the twice baked potatoes in a second layer of aluminum foil and popped them in the lower oven. The chef at the restaurant prepared a Caesar salad kit for him, and he placed it in the refrigerator. Glancing around, he made sure everything was neat and tidy. Kimber was obsessed with keeping things in order and could get easily distracted if she saw something out of place. That night, he wanted her focused totally on them.
The jiggle of the doorknob signaled she was home. He leaned against the kitchen island waiting for her to come in. When he saw her, she smiled and he swept her into his arms.
“You’re so cold,” he murmured, rubbing his face against hers.
“It’s fucking cold out there. And I stepped in a puddle of water that one of the new idiots we have working at the shop made with his hose. My feet are soaked.”
“I can warm you up real good, babe.”
“I know you can, but I don’t feel that sexy in my coveralls. I need to take a warm shower.” She pulled away and cocked her head. “I smell barbecue sauce.”
“I picked up dinner from Big Rocky’s.”
Her eyes lit up. “Really? You’ve never done that before. What a great idea.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and ambled away.
The scent of roses and patchouli wound around him as he stared at the television screen, and a slow smile spread across his face.
“Feel better?” he asked as she sank down next to him on the couch.
“Much. My feet are still ice though. I should’ve put on a thicker pair of socks.”
He rose. “I’ll be right back. You want to eat?”
“Yeah. I’m starving and ribs sound so good right now.”
He went into the kitchen and turned on the ovens and then headed to the bedroom. Coming back with a pair of pink fuzzy socks, he went over to the couch and sat down. Tugging her legs toward him, he placed them in his lap and took off her thin socks. He blew on his hands and rubbed them over her cold feet. He glanced up. Her eyes had that smoky, languid look sending warm ripples of desire through his body, thinning the air in his lungs.
The sound of her shallow breathing, the soft rose in her cheeks, and the parting of her full lips filled him with a fierce longing. “Kimber,” he whispered as he bent toward her, gripping her shoulders, pulling her into him, pressing himself into her. His hungry mouth melded into hers, the tip of his tongue brushing against the seam in her lips, and she opened to let him in, moaning with each urgent thrust. Desire licked through him as she slipped her arm around his neck, melding her body to his. Groaning low in his throat, he circled his arms around her, fusing them even closer, easing her down on her back, still kissing.
“Throttle,” she smothered against his lips as his hands moved under her fleece top.
“You consume my heart and my thoughts. You fuckin’ rock and I love you so much.”
“I adore you. You’re my soul mate, and you know when to say it’s okay and when to just listen to me when I just need an ear. I’m so connected to you.”
“Our bond is like steel, babe.” He crushed his mouth against hers, swallowing her words, loving the small whimpers coming from her.
An ear-splitting sound sliced through their sensuous haze, and Throttle leapt up, his body tense and ready to fight. He glanced at the door and looked down at Kimber who was laughing her ass off.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“It’s the timer on the oven. You must’ve set it when you turned it on to warm up dinner.”
Jerking his head toward the kitchen, he saw the green light flashing intermittently, and he joined in laughing. “Fuck. I thought someone was messing with me. That’s an annoying sound, and it’s so goddamn loud.” He shuffled over to the oven and turned it off.
After dinner, they sat on the couch, him holding her close, the fire dancing in the fireplace, and the soft strains of Queensryche’s “Silent Lucidity” filling the room. Throttle traced his fingers on her arm, the side of her neck, and her throat. “I love your skin.”
“Tonight’s wonderful. I was so pissed and cranky about the fucking cold and stepping in the puddle of water, that all I wanted to do when I got home was to change, have a bowl of soup, and veg on the couch. You lifted my shitty mood. Thanks.” She tipped her head back and smiled at him.
He swept his lips across hers. “I bet I can make it even better.”
She lightly ran her fingers over his cheek. “I know you can.”
Capturing her hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed each finger. “I’m not talking about that right now, but it’s definitely gonna happen later. I picked something up for you.” Stretching, he glided his hands into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. Wide-eyed, she darted her gaze from the box to his face and back to the box. “Open it.” He could see her hand tremble as she took the box from him.
“What is it?”
He chuckled. “Open it up and find out.” She slowly opened it and stared at the ring. “Do you like it?”
“Yeah. It’s beautiful. I love black diamonds. Are these pink tourmalines?”
“Sapphires.”
She whistled softly. “This must’ve cost you some bucks.”
“You’re worth it. I want us to get married. Do you wanna marry me?”
A tear spilled down from her brimming eyes and she wiped it away quickly. Without speaking, she bobbed her head.
“You okay?”
Wiping her eyes, she nodded again.
“Let me put it on your finger.” He slipped the ring on her finger. “It looks good on your hand.” Sniffling, she held her hand out and moved it around, the stones catching the light.
“You okay if I hug you?”
Another nod.
He pulled her close and she buried her head in the crook of his neck, her body shaking, his skin damp with her tears. “Are those happy tears, babe?” With women, he couldn’t be too sure.
“Yeah.” She sniffled. “I’m so damn happy I don’t know what to say except I love you and want to be with you forever,” she sputtered.
He raked his fingers through her hair. “That’s cool ’cause I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Have a few kids too.”
Laughing, Kimber pulled back a little. “I just got engaged. Don’t have me barefoot and pregnant too soon.” The glow from the fireplace lit up her face and made her blue eyes sparkle.
Heat stirred within him as his gaze traveled over her, taking in every bit of her. She’d never been so vulnerable and sexy as she was at that moment, and he loved her for trusting him with her forever.
“I just love this ring. I can’t believe you picked it out by yourself. Did Cara or Belle help you out?”
Throttle poked her playfully. “What? You don’t think I have good taste?”
“I know you do. You chose me.” She winked at him.
“I’m gonna smack your ass for that. And no one helped me pick out the ring. I knew it was perfect for you the minute I saw it. Now give me your lips.”
Kimber pressed into him and he devoured her mouth with his. That night he’d give it to her rough and nasty, the way he knew she loved it. Warmth spread through him. I’m getting married. Fuck. He never figured he’d be hitched, but since Kimber had come into his life, he couldn’t picture it any other way.
And that suited him just fine.