Night Fire (Nightriders MC Book 3) Page 8

  “Exit doors were chained shut. And there were multiple ignition points.”

  Clarice stared. Then her lips thinned and her eyes glinted with ice. “Fuckers.” She inhaled deeply, showing off her very fine chest to great effect. “The Russian is not going to be very happy about this.”

  “No shit, Sherlock.”

  “At least you’re smart. You kept your mouth shut and asked for me. Are you ready to get this circus started?”

  I nodded, wondering if my ears were bleeding from the subsonic whine. “Yeah.”

  She flicked the off button with a long, red nail and I breathed in relief. Clarice did her runway-model walk over to the window and tapped on it. Then she leaned in, shifting her face from side-to-side checking her makeup. I choked back a laugh as the door opened.

  The first one through was Leigh. She looked pissed. And smelled jealous. My wolf liked that. The ATF agent, still nursing his hard-on for me, and a DPD detective followed her.

  Clarice moved around behind me and stood, a hand on my shoulder. Leigh’s eye twitched and the acrid scent of vinegar wafted from her. I schooled my expression but my wolf was running in happy circles. She was undeniably jealous.

  For almost an hour, the cop and the ATF jerk asked questions. Clarice answered for me. Whenever I even twitched like I was going to open my mouth, she squeezed my shoulder. My eyes were almost watering from the vinegar and burnt toast scents swirling in the room.

  Leigh was back to leaning against the door and she jumped when someone rapped on it sharply. All eyes went to her and she opened the door a crack. There was a whispered conversation. In wolf form, my ears would have swiveled to hear. In human form, I just listened. Huh. All those witnesses saying I was a hero. How I kicked open chained exit doors. How I carried people out. How I saved their lives. That was the truth but the woman meant to be my mate would never see that side of me. She saw only the criminal. Whatever.

  Leigh came over, unlocked the handcuffs. “You’re free to go. For now.”

  For as long as she lived, I’d never be free. And that sucked donkey balls.

  Chapter 13

  Leigh

  I KEPT THINGS together through paperwork, angry grousing, and a hurried debriefing. I didn’t want to go home. I figured Smoke would be there waiting to confront me and I wasn’t ready to face him. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Something inside me curled up in a tight ball at the idea of him not being in my life.

  Then I wanted to Gibbs Slap myself for being an idiot. I didn’t love the blasted man. I couldn’t, given our differences. He was a criminal. Yet, when I didn’t see him, the pent-up nervousness inside me threatened to spill out. The times we were together? The sex was over-the-top amazing but there was more. His very presence calmed me, made me feel safe and secure.

  Since meeting him, I’d been walking a tightrope and I was so off balance it was just a matter of time before I fell. It would hurt like hell when I hit bottom. It couldn’t be real, these feelings. My heart didn’t believe the arguments my head kept making. He was an outlaw. There was no way he felt the same way about me. I’d even heard him say he was using me. But.

  I scrubbed at my face and looked up at my reflection in the mirror. I’d ducked into the ladies room for a chance to pull myself together. That huge but dangled there in front of me like it was a living, breathing entity. The look on his face—betrayal. And a sadness so absolute it broke my heart. And then just that quick, anger and disgust had replaced them.

  Nope. I wasn’t going home. Smoke wouldn’t be there. I was pretty certain of that fact. Walking into my place and knowing his huge presence would never be there again wasn’t something I could do at the moment. Besides, there was a fire scene to investigate. Since Smoke was no longer a suspect, I needed to find out who had set the fire—who had set all the fires.

  Smoke

  I HITCHED MY ASS on the Harley’s seat, legs stretched in front of me and crossed at the ankle. I looked deceptively at ease but the two Nightriders standing in front of me weren’t fooled. Lucky Malone, president of the Oklahoma Chapter, was a couple of years younger than me but he sweated Alpha from every pore. Gravedigger Cole was a Wolf I knew well. He was the Russian’s favorite enforcer.

  “’Preciate the cover, Lucky.” Nightriders from the Oklahoma chapter had shadowed me from the other side of the Texas border to ensure I didn’t have a tail. I wouldn’t put it past the Dallas cops to keep an eye on me. None of them had been happy when I’d been released.

  Clarice, the sexy lawyer, had been downright disappointed when she dropped me off at the impound lot to pick up my bike. She’d even picked up the tab for the impound fee. I guess she was hoping to do a trade for services rendered. I wasn’t in the mood for pussy and that was a sorry state of affairs. She’d just add the fees to her bill. I’d owe the club big time.

  With one short jerk of his chin, Lucky acknowledged the debt. “Brothers take care of brothers.”

  Yeah, lots of layers in that statement. I glanced over at the big man next to him. “Surprised to see you here, Digger.” He just arched a brow. “You callin’ me home for church?” Church meant a club meeting—and way too often meant discipline for a brother. I figured my ass was in a sling over the clusterfuck in Dallas.

  Digger growled, shoved his hands in pockets, stared at me. “You need church?”

  “No. I need to get my woman and get the fuck out of Dallas.”

  He stared at me a long time, the expression on his face as readable as a granite block. He spat on the pavement. “Shit.” The rest of his words were blocked by the grumbles of the diesel engine on a semi-truck pulling into the truck stop’s parking lot. “So that’s part of the problem,” Digger repeated. “Fuckin’ moonstruck.” He walked away, a cell phone pressed to his ear.

  I sat. Lucky stood, staring down at his boots, rubbing the back of his neck. “Been there,” he admitted. “Sucks.”

  I’d heard he’d mated some time back. “Yeah.”

  “I found my mate when she was a kid. Had to walk away. Hardest damn thing I ever did. And then I lost her. I figured for good until Fate brought her back into my life.” Lucky met my gaze, brother to brother, Wolf to Wolf. “Don’t let her go. Whatever it takes.”

  Digger walked up and I damn sure didn’t like the look on his face. “The Russian says we gotta deal with Boner so the answer’s no. You leave the bitch alone.”

  I was damn sorry to hear that. I stood, arms loose at my side but ready for whatever came my way. “Then you or he have t’kill me first.”

  Lucky opened his mouth to speak but Digger shut him up with a look. “So it’s like that, huh.”

  Wasn’t a question so I just nodded.

  “Then get your ass back there, find out who’s doin’ this shit, claim your mate, and come home.”

  Sure. I’d get right on that.

  Leigh

  TWO WEEKS. I was a basket case and I had no idea why. Which was total bull. I knew exactly why. Smoke. I wasn’t eating, barely sleeping, and wasn’t anywhere close to solving the string of arson fires. I had a good rep with the department and a better than average closure rate. Even Fielding was giving me the fish eye these days.

  A couple of the other investigators convinced me to hit a local hang-out after shift. The place wasn’t like an FD bar or anything but it was close to our office and the bar food was decent. We talked shop for about an hour and then they got a call out. Good thing they’d only had a beer each. Me? I was about three beers down and decided I’d better get something in my stomach to absorb the alcohol. I could drive. Maybe. I didn’t want to take any chances though.

  I ordered a burger and fries, with a Diet Coke. I ate slowly and watched the ebb and flow of people. People got up to dance to the jukebox. Others drank. One guy sitting at the bar kept glancing my way. He wore tattered jeans, a waffle-weave Henley shirt, and a leather jacket sporting Italian motorcycle racing emblems. He was cute, if you were into preppy grunge. This place catered to all kinds. I kept eating
, sipping my soda through a straw.

  After savoring the last fry drenched in ketchup, I figured it was time to face my empty condo. Movement caught my eye and I glanced over to find Mr. Preppy headed my way with a tall glass of dark liquid topped with a lime and a mug of beer.

  He set the glass in front of me. “Diet Coke, right? The waitress said you’d gone non-alcoholic.” He offered up a cocky grin. “I’m Alex.”

  Of course he was. He settled into the chair next to me and looked disappointed when he gazed into the empty plastic basket with its minimal smear of ketchup.

  “I can order some more,” he offered.

  “If you’re hungry. I’m done, thanks.” I pushed my chair back but he stopped me by draping his arm over the back of it.

  “You can’t leave yet.”

  I gave him a slanted-eyed look. “Oh. Really?”

  His grin reappeared, offering a dimple as well. “I don’t drink diet. I’d hate for this Coke to go to waste.” He picked up his mug and held it like he was waiting to clink glasses in a toast. “Besides, I don’t know your name yet, pretty lady.”

  To make this faster, I picked up the glass and took a big swig. “And now I’m leaving.”

  “Sure you don’t want to tell me your name?”

  The guy was starting to irritate me. “Look, dude.” I waved my hand at my uniform and cocked my thumb at my name tag. “Do I look like I’m here for a hookup?” I gulped down some more of that Coke.

  He stared at me and I had the feeling that he was watching for something in my eyes—which made no sense. I gave him a slant-eyed look then stared pointedly at his arm, still draped on the back of my chair. Evidently, my “move it or lose it” glare wasn’t very potent tonight. I slipped out the other side of my chair and squirted around the opposite side of the table.

  Alex was in front of me and I hadn’t even seen him move. I felt weird. Was the room swaying, or was I? I never should have ordered—much less drunk—that third beer.

  “C’mon, babe. Let’s go home.”

  Babe. My heart lurched at the word. I glared as Alex’s arm came around my waist to support me. He escorted me out through the back exit. Something was off. Wrong. I dragged my feet and tried to call for help but my mouth wouldn’t work. Then my legs stopped working. The douche bag picked me up as a black SUV drove down the alley and stopped in front of us. He stuffed me in the backseat. My stomach roiled and I threw up.

  “For fucking crissakes.” A fist slammed into my cheek and I saw stars…

  Smoke

  MY WOLF WENT APESHIT. I was riding down I-635 and the next thing I knew I was wearing furry gloves with claws. He was gnawing on my insides demanding that we get to Leigh. I hadn’t seen her since coming back to Dallas. I’d been staying in one of the back rooms at the clubhouse and was currently headed toward a bar. I had a lead on a firebug who liked to copy other people’s signatures. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t working for the Hell Dogs.

  That wasn’t happening now. I had to force the wolf down and concentrate on staying human. Leigh was in trouble. I felt it in my gut. I exited the interstate and headed to her condo. She wasn’t there. Fuck.

  I finally found her POS fire department vehicle parked by a bar a couple of blocks away from her office. She wasn’t there. She had been. I questioned the bartender—who saw nothing. I had him by the throat and up against the wall when a waitress walked up.

  “She left around eight. Tall guy. Blond. Looked like a college preppy playing dress-up as a bad boy. He bought her a drink.” I growled. “Diet Coke with lime. She’d already had three beers with two of the arson guys. They left and she ordered a burger and Coke.”

  I let the bartender go and focused on the girl. “They go out the front?”

  “No. Back alley. It was weird but I was busy. She looked okay—wasn’t fighting or anything.”

  I stormed out the back door, sniffed. Fucking garbage. I caught a whiff of Leigh’s scent, and…fuck! Another Wolf. A Wolf I recognized. Motherfucker.

  Rook headed me off about five feet inside the front door of the clubhouse. “Smoke.” His voice was coated in warning.

  “Outta my way, Rook.”

  “You’re a guest, Smoke. And there’s not a Blood Moon.”

  “I’m not challenging the asshole.” I wasn’t. I’d already called Digger. He was on his way.

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s not here.”

  No. Boner was fucking in the wind. But someone else was here. That scent was imprinted in my very soul. Pushing past Rook, I stalked to the hall leading to the back rooms. He followed me, wary now.

  The hallway reeked with her scent. I stopped, kicked in the door and just stood there, swaying in the doorway. Rage, black and poisonous, slithered through my veins. She lay on her back, the blond motherfucker on top of her. I’d kill the asshole. Kill her. I curled my fingers into my palms to hide the claws erupting from their tips.

  My focus narrowed, my gaze arrowing in on her face. Her expression. Those full lips were slack. A line of drool trailed from one corner, a dark spot staining the grubby sheets beneath her cheek. I’d never noticed she slept so damn ugly. My wolf whined, clawing to get out, to get to his mate. Fuck that shit. His mate had betrayed us. Again. The wolf growled, straining to reach her.

  And that’s when I realized. The throb of Leigh’s carotid was sluggish. Too slow. What the hell? My boot connected with a bottle as I strode toward the bed. A faint odor drifted up to me. I bent over, snatched the empty.

  Holding it under my nose, I inhaled deeply. Wine. Red. Tannins. Wood with spruce berry undernotes. Alcohol. And some chemical I couldn’t identify. I traced my tongue over the lip of the bottle, tasted. Figured out what my nose couldn’t tell me—roofie.

  I launched toward the bed, howling. My wolf wanted to rip the motherfucker’s throat out. But my human half couldn’t unleash the beast. Not yet. Information. I had to find out why. Find out who. I slammed the dickwad up against the wall.

  “Oh yeah, asshole. Awake now aren’t you.”

  “Wha—?” The guy blinked, his expression tinged with stupid.

  Scalded milk edging toward scorched hair singed the air. I crinkled my nose to keep from sneezing. The dickless wonder was cognizant now, nervous as shit and starting to panic. I grinned, my canines slightly elongated and I was pretty damn sure red lights flickered in my eyes.

  “Why this girl?” I couldn’t keep the snarl out of my voice as my fingers squeezed the guy’s throat.

  “Orders.” The loser shithead choked out the word.

  “From who?”

  “Can’t. Can’t rat on brothers.”

  “You’re gonna die either way, asshole. You cooperate, you die quick. Fuck around?” I smiled, scenting ammonia. My prisoner had tipped right over into terror. “I know a man who will take days killing you an inch at a time.”

  “Boner,” he rasped. “Told me if I could get the girl here, do her, I’d get my patch. He gave me the drugs. Told me to have fun.” Bravado washed across the man’s expression as he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be a patched-in member of the Nightriders. “And I did. Bitch is full of fun.”

  I slammed the tool’s head against the wall, watched his eyes roll up in their sockets. I stared at Rook and two other Wolves standing behind him. My voice was barely human as I growled, “She’s my mate. Tell Digger this one is a special delivery for the Russian.”

  Rook blanched. “The Gravedigger?”

  “Yeah. He’s on his way.”

  My wolf wanted to rip out the kid’s throat until I reminded him that our mate was hurt. We’d leave this mess for Digger to clean up.

  “Fuck, Smoke. I’m sorry.” Rook looked almost as angry as I felt. “We didn’t know. Leave the asshole to us.” He handed me a blanket one of the other Wolves had found.

  I started to argue but he cut me off. “He’s human. And stupid. And did what he thought the club prez wanted. He’ll pay for it, Smoke. On my honor. And we’ll
help Digger with Boner when he gets here.”

  Wrapping Leigh in the blanket, I cradled her to my chest. I couldn’t think about another man’s scent on her—in her. I’d go crazy. My driving need now was to get her home. Keep her safe. She was mine, and I was claiming her, even if she denied our connection.

  Rook tossed a set of keys to one of the Wolves and ordered, “Go get the Yukon.”

  “Smoke?” I focused the woman in my arms.

  “Shh, baby. Sleep.”

  “I think I’m punch-drunk.”

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  “I missed you.” My heart constricted. She sounded so lost. “Are you mad at me?”

  “No, babe.”

  “Sure?”

  “Sure.”

  “Can I kiss you?”

  “Okay.” With a wonky smile and pursed lips, she kissed me.

  My world settled back on its axis.

  Chapter 14

  Smoke

  LEIGH SLEPT for almost thirty-six hours. Two of the Dallas Wolves got us back to her place—one driving us in the club’s SUV, the other riding my bike. Even as pissed as I was, I’d been grateful. She was in bad shape and getting her home on the bike would have been impossible.

  She woke up grouchy because I was there. It’s like she didn’t remember a damn thing from that night. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. She’d passed out on the ride home and remained that way even when I checked her over. The bastard hadn’t hurt her but his scent was on her. Maybe it was better if those memories didn’t come back.

  “You stay away for two weeks and then decide to just show up? And then you get me drunk?”

  “Nope.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You were already drunk.”

  “I don’t get drunk, Smoke.”

  “Uh huh.”

  She threw up her hands, then winced. She lowered her hands to cradle her head. “What was I drinking last night?”

  I needed to tell her the truth, no matter the fallout. “It was two nights ago.”