Chapter Ten
“Honey, I’m home!” Kat burst through the front door and dropped to her knees, placing a dramatic kiss on the tiled floor in the foyer. She’d had gone to a four-day biker rally near Boise. The first trip in her quest to learn about all things motorcycle club.
Amanda wandered out of the kitchen and burst out laughing. “Welcome home, girl. Missed it much?” She’d left before Nick’s arrival. Amanda was glad to have her friend home. Having a third person around might help prevent her from doing something stupid. Like agreeing to ride on the back of his motorcycle.
“Oh my gosh, you have no idea. I’ll never again take my shower for granted, or my bed, or my hairdryer, or Starbucks.”
Leaning against the wall, Amanda smiled at her best friend. “So, camping isn’t really your thing, huh?”
“No, it is not. Though I’d do it again in the search for justice. But now that I’m home, I’m going to take a three-hour bath and use every beauty product I own.” She’d been eager to soak up the full experience and decided to camp instead of staying in a hotel.
“So, did you meet lots of outlaws? Can you officially claim you’re a biker chick now?”
“Are you making fun of my research?” Kat rose from the floor and jammed her hands on her hips.
Amanda giggled. “I would never. The first one was a serious question. Were there a lot of outlaw bikers there?”
“Actually yes, there were more than I was anticipating. I mostly went just to soak up some of the biker culture, but I did get to observe some of the one percenter clubs.” She shuddered. “They are some sketchy dudes, girlfriend.”
“One percenters?”
“Yeah,” Kat said. “It’s biker speak for the outlaw clubs. Something about how only one percent of motorcycle clubs are actually outlaw. The rest are just a bunch of dudes who ride together.”
“Gotcha. Well I hope this will make you think twice about getting too involved with them.”
“I’m not giving up my investigation if that’s what you mean. If I can take down just one of these clubs, my career will rocket off like crazy. I’ll be famous!” Excitement spewed from every pore in Kat’s body and Amanda couldn’t help the twist of worry in her gut.
Kat walked halfway up the stairs then turned back around. This week her hair was jet black and a whole lot shorter than it had been before she left. She must have cut and dyed it to fit in with the leather jacket and bad ass attitude she’d worn on her trip. “Um, speaking of motorcycles, there is a seriously hot man out in the garage playing around with some old junky looking motorcycle.”
Amanda’s face heated. “Oh, yeah, that’s Nick.”
A smirk tilted Kat’s mouth. “I know. I introduced myself. Doesn’t say much, does he?”
With a huff, Amanda rolled her eyes. “No, he does not.” He’d been there three days and she hadn’t spoken to him beyond the initial encounter when he arrived. It angered her that she had to remind herself it was a good thing.
She wanted to give him time to get acclimated, but the deal was work in exchange for free living space, so at some point she’d have to get with him about what specifically she wanted done on the house. One week. She’d give him one week of peace then see about getting him to start the work.
“Hmm. A bit dark and brooding. Enigmatic. I like it.” Kat’s smirk grew into a face-splitting grin. “And so do you. Girl, your face is turning red. You got a little thing for our tenant?”
“I most certainly do not!” Her denial sounded weak to her own ears. Great. Kat was as dogged about matchmaking as she was with her investigations. Plus, she was a hopeless romantic. She wouldn’t stop until she had Amanda and Nick holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes at the top of a Ferris wheel.
“Hmm, pretty forceful rejection of my statement.” She tapped a finger against her pursed lips. “Not so sure I’m buying it.”
“There’s nothing to buy, Kat. He was my patient and now he’s living in the cabin in exchange for work. End of story.”
“Whatever you say, girl.” Kat spun on one foot and resumed her trek up the stairs. “Guess you won’t mind that I invited him for dinner, then,” she called over her shoulder.
What? Nick was coming for dinner? She cleared her throat. “Mind, why would I mind? It’s a nice neighborly thing to do when someone moves in.”
“Uh huh. I totally believe you.” Kat’s laughter lingered on the stairs long after she jogged up to the second floor.
Ugh.
Amanda glanced at her lounge shorts and ripped T-shirt. She had to change. No way Nick could see her looking like such a hot mess. She needed to put on something nicer. Maybe a skirt. It was almost ninety degrees outside, maybe a sundress. And something needed to be done with her hair.
Great. Now she was primping for the guy.
~ ~ ~ ~
Snake knocked on the wood frame around the screen door and wondered for about the hundredth time what the hell he was doing having dinner with his landlord and her firecracker roommate. The roommate, Kat, if he remembered correctly, hadn’t so much as invited him as ordered him to dinner. She’d prattled on and he’d tuned most of it out, but it was something about how they grilled every Sunday night in the summer months and he’d better be there.
She’d promised there’d be steak and, man, could he go for some steak on the grill. He couldn’t cook for shit so weeks of hospital food followed by a few days of microwave meals and the mention of steak had him salivating like a neglected dog.
It was the sitting down to a civilized dinner with polite conversation that had him tempted to cut and run. When was the last time he’d been in a situation like this? He couldn’t recall a time as far back as he could remember. He just didn’t do this shit. The club had dinners, barbecues frequently, and he ate at the bar with his brothers more often than not. But he did not spend a few hours around the table with two ladies. Too domesticated.
Yet here he was, thrust into this alternate universe where no one called him Snake. No one knew who he was. He was acting so out of character he barely recognized himself. Not to mention he was barely recognizable in the physical sense as well, with his black contacts who the fuck knew where, his hair short, and his stitched up tongue.
For all intents and purposes he was Nick again, not Snake. Not the outlaw biker who ran a deadly one percenter MC and didn’t fit into civilized society. Yet on the inside, he burned with anger and a vengeful hatred he could only quell for so long. The Snake would strike at some point and he just had to play the game in this strange world until he was prepared to take his life back.
“Well, hey there, handsome.” Kat sauntered to the door wearing ass-hugging jeans and a crop top that showed off her flat midriff. Her short hair stuck out in a spiky style that made her look edgy and fun.
“Hey.” He held up a six pack of his favorite beer. “It’s all I had in the house. Well, that and some frozen pizzas.” Normal people brought something when they went to someone’s place for dinner, right?
“Oh, thanks! We’ll always take more beer. Come on in. Mandy’s out back cursing at the grill. I told you we grilled every Sunday, but I didn’t say we were actually good at it.” She winked and waved him to follow her as she made her way through the kitchen.
She was a fiery ball of energy, and her spunk was infectious. “No worries. It’s gotta be better than all those frozen pizzas.”
Kat snorted. “Let’s hope.” She held up one of the bottles he brought. “You want one of these or something else? We’ve got wine and Mandy made some Sangria earlier. It should be ready now.”
Wine. Sangria. His head swirled with the elements of his new reality. No whiskey swilling women here. Just two classy ladies that made Sangria. What the hell was Sangria, anyway? “Beer’s perfect.”
“Yeah, didn’t figure you much for the fruity drink kind of man. I’m just finishing up a few things then I’ll be out. You can head through that door there.” She pointed with a giant chef’s knife. “That will take you to a large screened in porch. There’s another door that leads to the deck outside. Mandy’s out there.”
That was the second time she used the nickname to refer to Amanda. Mandy was cute, and it fit her, but he wasn’t sure he could use it. To him she was Amanda. Maybe because it was the way she’d been introduced to him.
“Thanks.” He followed her instructions and found Amanda standing in front of a large stainless grill wearing a short flowy dress with tiny shoulder straps. Fuck, he could tear those straps with one finger and have that barely-there dress floating to the floor. Forget the steak, he could be feasting on her in the next thirty seconds.
“Come on, now,” she muttered under her breath. “Cook for Mama.”
He couldn’t help but grin. There was a wholesomeness about her that he found himself drawn to for some outrageous reason. “That meat talks back to you and I’m outta here.”
With a gasp, she spun and held long metal tongs against her chest. “Geez, Nick, you scared me.” Her face pinked and she waved the tongs at the grill. “I was just giving the meat a pep talk. Trying to get it to do what I want.”
“Pep talk for the meat, huh? You know usually it responds better if you just give it a little rub. Unless we’re referring to dirty talk. In that case you can usually get the meat to do whatever the hell you want.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth flapped open and closed twice before she burst out laughing. “You just made a joke. Cranky Nick Gould just made a joke.” She beamed at him. “It looks good on you.”
He grimaced. He could joke. Most of the time he just chose not to. His life was too dark to stand around yukking it up.
Her caramel-colored hair flowed down her back in large waves. She gathered it up in one hand and held it high on her head for a few seconds, fanning herself with the tongs.
He couldn’t tear his gaze from her. She was just so…pretty.
“Okay, kids, salad is ready. How’re the steaks and potatoes doing, Mandy?”
Snake smiled. “Mandy, huh?”
She shrugged. “I’m really only Amanda to my patients. Oh, and my parents.”
“I like it,” he said.
“Well, feel free to call me that. Or Amanda. Doesn’t really matter to me.” She turned back to the grill. “Yeah, Kat. Everything’s done.”
They sat at a round table in the corner of a large wooden deck. The view was spectacular, especially as the sun dipped low in the horizon, giving the appearance of sinking into the mountains. Everything as far as his eye could see was lush and green. Full of life. Very different from the desert, which was fitting for Snake’s mood the past few days. Different scenery, different man.
The air was still and for a few moments silence wrapped around the trio. The strangest sensation washed over Snake as he took it all in. The anger and betrayal he’d been experiencing for weeks dulled until it was more a memory than a feeling. In his mind was a peace, an inner quiet he couldn’t remember experiencing before. For once he wasn’t clawing his way to the top of the food chain, he wasn’t responsible for brokering lucrative drug deals. His enemies had no idea where he was and the absence of the palpable target he’d felt on his back for years was freeing. Sure, he had a looming hell planned for Casper, but tonight he couldn’t do a damned thing about that. So instead of fixating on it, he enjoyed the cold beer, warm air, and company of beautiful women. Instead, he gave himself over to being Nick and left Snake on the sideline.
“So, tell us about yourself, Nick. Where you from?” Kat asked.
Amanda’s head popped up and she stared at him with interest.
He tensed for a moment before recovering. The questions were bound to come at some point so he might as well get used to it. “Here and there. I move around a lot. I’m a bit of a drifter.”
“Hmm, that is quite the avoidance of my question. Interesting.” Kat bit a hunk of steak off her fork while Amanda giggled.
“You should know Kat is a mystery magnet and once she sniffs something interesting, she will not let a puzzle go unsolved.” Amanda sipped a red drink with floating bits of fruit. He assumed it was the Sangria her roommate had mentioned earlier.
“That’s true,” Kat said with a nod. “I live to uncover everyone’s secrets, so I hope you’re not hiding too much.” She bobbed her eyebrows at him and chuckled.
Amanda rolled her eyes at her friend’s enthusiasm. “Kat’s an aspiring investigative journalist.”
“Excuse me? I’m a what?” Kat pointed her fork at Amanda.
“My bad. Kat is an investigative journalist. She’s just searching for the big story that will rocket her to fame.”
“Excuse me?”
The interplay between these two was funny. They behaved more like sisters, needling each other and giggling as they did so.
“Sorry!” Amanda said on a laugh. “Kat has found the big story that will make her the most famous investigative journalist to ever have lived. She’s in the process of working the case now.”
“Much better.” Kat took a bite of medium rare steak. “Mm, nice work Mandy. This came out great.”
“So what is it you’re investigating, or is it a big secret?” he asked.
She swallowed her food and shook her head. “No secret. Well, kind of secret since I need to remain anonymous, but nothing I’m investigating is in this immediate area, and it’s not like you guys know anyone from that world. It’s outlaw motorcycle clubs.”
Unease slid through Snake’s stomach and the beer he’d just sipped soured as it journeyed to his gut. “Outlaw motorcycle clubs?”
Kat nodded. “Yup. They’re full of nasty dudes who run drugs, weapons, women, you name it. All kinds of illegal activities. They’re slick, though, and never seem to get the justice they deserve.”
“Sounds dangerous.” The effort it took to keep his voice even and his body relaxed was monumental. Last thing he needed was some wet behind the ears, overeager, wannabe reporter digging through his life. Nothing would derail him from seeking revenge on Casper.
Amanda threw her hands up. “Thank you. I’ve been telling her that for weeks. It’s way too big and dangerous of an undertaking to attack on her own. I think she’s nuts. These guys sound like they should be avoided at all costs. Not the kind of men you want to associate with, Kat.”
Nick frowned. He’d be out on his ass if Amanda had any idea who he really was. “You know, not all bikers are assholes.” What the hell was he doing? Defending bikers like somehow he could change Amanda’s mind about them and keep her from tossing him out on his ass if she discovered his true identity. He was an asshole. And it didn’t matter what she thought of him or the MC. As soon as he was strong enough to beat the life out of Casper, he’d be gone.
“Hey!” Kat waved off Amanda’s concern. “You were fixing up that motorcycle out in the garage. You ever been in a riding club or anything?”
“Nope.” That was the honest truth. Straight to an outlaw MC for him.
“Ever come across any outlaw bikers?”
“Kat!” Amanda looked at him. “Sorry, once she gets going, she starts interviewing everyone and it often feels more like an interrogation.”
He shrugged, aiming for nonchalant and hoping he achieved it. “No big deal. And yeah, Kat. I’ve met a few in my travels. At biker bars. They tend to be territorial and so you have to play by their rules when you’re on their turf. But that’s about as much as I can tell you about one percenters. Well, that and that Amanda’s right. They are dangerous motherfuckers and you don’t want to mess with them.”
He wanted to scare her away without tipping his hand. Kat seemed like a nice girl, but a nosy girl. Bad combination to go sniffing around any MCs. Any club member worth his salt would smell the reporter on her in a second and use it to his advantage. She could find herself in a very undesirable situation very fast.
“Hmm,” Kat said, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I hear you two loud and clear. I can’t promise I’m going to abandon this idea because I think it’s my golden ticket, but I’ll give it some thought at least.”
Snake caught Amanda’s eye as he reached for his beer.
“Thank you,” she mouthed with a smile on her pretty face.
He winked and tilted back the beer, confident that both women were completely clueless about his real life.
The subject changed and he spent most of the meal listening to the girls chatter and laugh back and forth. Not one for long, drawn out conversations, his role as observer sat with him just fine. After every crumb had been eaten, Amanda brought out a giant tub of ice cream with chunks of cookie dough stating something about how it was a necessity for all women to have stashed in their freezers. He’d take her word for it since he really knew jack shit about how women worked. Well, how non-club women worked.
Girls around the club were easy…in more ways than one. They wanted fun. They wanted booze. They wanted dick. And not necessarily in that order. Really, they wanted to be an ol’ lady and they’d do whatever was asked of them with the slim hope of becoming one. Amanda and Kat were like strange creatures in a strange land to him. Maybe he’d ask his sister what her thoughts were on cookie dough ice cream. Cece and Amanda would probably get along great. Not that they’d ever meet.
After polishing off a bowl of ice cream which he had to admit hit the spot, he leaned back in his chair. He’d survived his first polite dinner invitation and had actually enjoyed himself. The peaceful contented feeling was back. He could get used to it. Used to the quiet. Used to the calm. Used to the beautiful woman who provided both.
Jesus, what the hell was he thinking? He could not get used to any of this. He couldn’t afford to lose his edge. Not when he had a deadly enemy looming out there, gloating over his presumed victory.