Miles High, page 1
part #4 of Grimm Tales of Smoky Vale Series
Cover Artist:
Black Jazz Designs
Editors:
Tanja Ongkiehong
Teresa Banschbach
Miles High © 2021 Gianni Holmes
All Rights Reserved
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic, in whole or in part, without expressed written permission. This is excluding brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Miles High
The Grimm Tales of Smoky Vale #4
Gianni Holmes
Miles High
RUBBLE
One look at a raggedy Miles who crashes the clubhouse and every instinct in his body is to keep and protect. Then he hears three words that would seal his fate.
When Miles no longer needs his protection, Rubble must find an excuse to see him again. But Miles’s hot and cold reaction is sending Rubble mixed signals.
MILES
Miles’s desperate search for a protector leads him right into Rubble’s arms. For the second time.
The huge biker, covered in tattoos, should scare him, but with the enormous threat at his back, all Rubble provides is comfort. He makes Miles feel safe… for the time being.
Everyone thinks the threat to Miles is gone, but there’s an even bigger enemy that’s been haunting him for years. Miles has already caused the demise of one biker. The last thing he needs is for another to be killed while protecting him.
As the darkness that lurks inches closer, what will it take for Miles to trust Rubble to protect him?
Miles High is a protector romance with a sweet virgin, who finds himself embroiled in the pits of an underground operation, and the biker who’ll risk his neck to save him. This book has light Daddy kink, a gruff biker trying to avoid the use of too many f-bombs, and illicit activities. Trigger content includes physical, psychological, and sexual abuse.
Warning
This book contains material that may be triggering for some readers. Proceed with caution or refrain from reading if any of these are triggers for you: sexual assault, forced domestic discipline, alcoholism, suicide of a minor character, and graphic violence.
A Word from the Author
Dear Reader,
We’re picking up right where we left off in Smoky Vale. I would strongly advise reading the other books if you haven’t yet. They tend to be lightly connected, and events may be mentioned that you may not understand unless the books are read in order. This includes all the main books, Boyfriend Booked, Biker Daddy, Fable’s Foes, and The Mortician. You may also order Crowe’s Creed.
I’d recommend reading the extras too. These are novelettes that act as an extended epilogues after each book ends. Each extra is best read after the main book about that same couple. Dresses and Cuts (Biker Daddy), Boys’ Night Out (Fable’s Foes), and Something Old, Something New (The Mortician).
Now that we are all caught up, there’s a prequel to Miles High that you can choose to read before you get into this novel. The prequel will give you an in depth look at the brief stint Rubble had looking after Miles. This occurs a couple of months before the start of this book and is approximately 15k words.
Grab the prequel here. It will not be in KU because you can get it for free on Book Funnel, but I’m also making it available on Amazon in the event you do not wish to use Book Funnel. This means the prequel will be accessible to everyone whether or not you are interested in signing up for my newsletter.
Don’t forget to check out the trigger warnings if there’s any content you may struggle with. That being said, I always try my best to portray sensitive topics respectfully.
Gianni
Prologue
Rubble
Card games were the lifeblood of our club. Seriously, they were. Sure, we had parties often, and we fucked almost anything with two legs that exhibited higher-order thinking, but when push came to shove, card games were what we turned to. It wasn’t uncommon to settle disputes this way or to wile the time away, forgetting some of the awful shit we’d witnessed.
Tonight, it was the best way to occupy our time, given we had to stay low. One of our bikers, Mort, our enforcer, had been picked up by the cops for a crime he didn’t commit. Club members were enraged, but we didn’t engage with cops. We did things the law-abiding way now, and while I didn’t necessarily agree with how cautious we’d become, I couldn’t disagree that it’d benefited our club.
The rate of incarceration for our brothers was almost nonexistent. Grimm, our president, ran a tight ship, and those of us who’d been silent doubters had become converts to Grimm’s Theory. We still held on to a few backdoor dealings, but most of our businesses were now legit, and it was easier than ever to pass off the extra dollars we earned by funneling it through the business fronts.
But I was also fucking bored with card games. I was never good at sitting around and waiting to be told what to do. We should go down to the police station and demand them to release Mort. But as heated as I was, it was still a stupid thought that would never actually happen.
Grimm and Cass, the hangaround I’d had my sights set on for a while, entered the mess hall, where I sat with the twins, who I was sure were cheating. I couldn’t call them out on it without evidence, but the two must have had some telekinesis power the rest of us couldn’t understand.
Cass paced in front of us, stressed over his man being in the slammer. Grimm took a seat where he could watch the game.
“Fucking cheaters,” I mumbled under my breath. I had a hundred dollars in the kitty, and I had a good hand, but with those two, I didn’t stand a chance.
“What’d you say?” Whip asked, an amused smile on his lips.
“Nothing,” I grumbled. They were well-liked by the club’s members, even though everyone knew they had each other’s cocks buried so deep inside each other’s asses they didn’t register anyone else around them. I was one of the newer members, and I always had to prove myself.
“I thought so,” Whip said.
A loud commotion outside pulled us away from the game. I jumped to my feet, ready to defend myself and my brothers if it came to it, but Grimm shook his head at me and gestured to the twins.
“Go check it out.”
I pushed down the resentment building inside me. They never gave me the opportunity to prove myself, to show my loyalty to the club. Yeah, I handled small errands for the club, but they never trusted me with the big stuff. I was never the first choice. I ran the tattoo shop, but there wasn’t anyone else to do it, so I was their only shot at getting revenue for the club on that front.
Noose and Whip reentered the mess hall, a young man with a slender build and black hair being hustled between them. He tracked dirt over the floor with his bare feet. His face appeared chalk-white against the dark color of his matching PJ set with a big white panda at the front of the shirt. He scanned his surroundings with wide brown eyes behind his glasses, his chest heaving as he struggled between the twins.
“I’m not leaving until I speak to Mort!” His voice came out shrill and shaky. “He promised to keep me safe.”
I dropped my eyes to the table. Of course, this had to do with Mort. The lucky bastard had two guys in his life? I swung my head toward Cass, who frowned at the newcomer. He didn’t seem like he was familiar with the guy. Had Mort fucked up? Did he have a second boy on the side?
“What’s this?” Grimm motioned for the twins to bring the boy closer. When they were only a couple of feet from the president, he asked, “Who are you?”
I watched the scene, curious to see how this would play out. It didn’t even matter if Mort and Cass ended up breaking up and I could have another chance with Cass. He’d made his decision clear when he chose Mort. I wasn’t going to be anyone’s second best.
“I’m not talking to you. I want Mort.”
Silence fell. Mort must not have prepared him well for how to address the leader of our club. Grimm wasn’t big on titles and lording his position over the rest of us, but everyone was still expected to show him respect, and this boy was being downright disrespectful. Who trespassed on a club’s property, then made demands? Didn’t he see the president patch Grimm wore on his cut?
“Listen here, kid!” Grimm snapped.
“I’m not a kid. I’m twenty-four.”
The interplay was getting interesting by the minute. I rocked back in my chair with my hands crossed over my chest and watched them in amusement. This guy was…different. The way he shifted was awkward, his arms uncoordinated as he spoke and his glasses askew on his nose.
Grimm rose to his feet, his expression thunderous. My hands tightened on the arms of my chair. Grimm wouldn’t smack him for his insolence, would he? Grimm wasn’t the kind of president to hurt anyone without just cause, but he was walking a tightrope with his enforcer thrown in prison.
I clenched my teeth to avoid making a big mistake by saying anything to further alienate me from the other members. Goddammit, but it was difficult to hold back and not snap at Grimm to not intimidate the boy when he stepped back at Grimm’s imposing height. Not many guys were bigger than Grimm; I was.
“You don’t come up to my club and make demands,” Grimm growled, but he made no threatening move toward the guy. “Now tell me who you are, and I might not toss you out on your ass.”
“No, no, please don’t.” His face paled even more. “I’m Miles, Mort’s assistant. Angel was sup
His presence made sense now. Mort had requested a biker to shadow his assistant to keep him safe. I’d thought I would have been chosen, but they’d picked Angel instead.
“Angel fought them, but I don’t know what happened next because I ran as fast as I could. I’ve been hiding out ever since, trying to find Mort. I need a new bodyguard.” His voice turned demanding again as he glanced wildly across the room. His eyes landed on me, and I held my breath. “I want him.”
Was he pointing at me?
I stared at him, processing his words. The breath whooshed out of my lungs, and I sat upright in my chair. He’d picked me to guard him. I never got picked first for anything. He could have chosen the twins or any of the other brothers, but he wanted me.
I peeked over my shoulder just to be sure no one else was standing there to whom he was referring. Nope. Only me. I lost the ability to formulate words as Grimm instructed Noose to try to get a hold of Angel, then returned his attention to Miles.
“Did you speak to the police about what happened?”
He shook his head and wrapped his arms around his shoulders to hug himself. “No. I wasn’t sure how much I’d be allowed to tell them, so I came here.”
Grimm gave him a curt nod. “You did a good thing.” He turned to Cass, who still hadn’t said anything to Mort’s assistant. “You make him comfortable while we try to figure out what Puddu has up his sleeve.” Puddu was the latest in a long line of assholes we’d had to deal with.
Fucking idiots who thought they could best the Grimm Reapers. So far, they’d lost every time they tried.
“That’s Mort’s boy,” Grimm introduced the two. “Stick close to him. The brothers know not to cross the line, but they can test your limits. Cass knows how to handle them.”
For the first time, Miles and Cass faced each other directly. Was he just Mort’s assistant, or were they fucking? Mort was crazy about Cass. The fucker had even fought me over the boy. Would he have jeopardized their relationship by being with someone else when Cass had gone all exclusive for him?
“Cass,” Miles said, his eyes shifting away. “Mort told me about you.” His cheeks bloomed red, and my heart sank. He was into Mort too. Just my tough luck.
I tuned them out and grabbed my money from the table. Everyone had forgotten about the poker game anyway. With Angel missing, we would have a lot on our hands until we found him.
“…I’ll leave Rubble in charge if you want anything.” My ears perked up at the mention of my name. “He’s the one Mort had originally considered putting on your tail.”
Miles glanced over at me, and our gazes collided. He pushed his glasses more firmly onto his nose, his cheeks growing redder. My nostrils flared. I hadn’t spent thirty-six years on this earth not to be able to scent desire, and Miles was giving off the aroma in waves.
“Come on.” Cass took his arm, and I had to bite my tongue to refrain from telling him to stay in the mess hall with me. “I’ll show you to the bathroom, and I’ll get you something to wear.”
The boy tore his gaze away from mine and followed Cass out of the room. I stared after his petite frame, my oxygen supply seeming limited.
What the hell had just happened?
“Listen to me, Rubble,” Grimm said, his eyes worried. “He’s a civilian, and we can’t let anything happen to him. Whatever you have to do, drop it. From now until we get a hold of Puddu, you’re not letting Miles out of your sight.”
I nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep him safe.”
“And watch your back. We don’t want to lose another brother.”
Chapter 1
Miles
Two months later
After two days of searching, thirteen rejections, and one emphatic “hell no,” I was on the verge of bawling my eyes out. The heat of the May sun and my long-sleeve shirt, paired with tailored pants, only made it worse. The material stuck to my damp back, and I deliberately avoided checking out what I was sure were stains under my armpits.
Great. Not only was I the loser who couldn’t find a job, but I was also one with stinky bomb pits, sweaty hair, and fogged-up glasses.
I swiped my glasses from my face and rubbed at the moisture that beaded on the bridge of my nose and upper lip. Pinching an excess material of my shirt, I wiped the buildup of fog from the lenses, then replaced them on my face. The world became clearer. Unlike my life.
How on earth am I getting out of this mess?
I trudged along the sidewalk, past the fancy bar my former boss, Mort, had taken me to celebrate my twenty-fourth birthday only a few months ago. What I wouldn’t give to be back working at the crematory, but Mort continued to be stubborn about accepting back his business from the man who’d bought it out from under him.
This time I was even willing to touch a corpse or two just to have my old job back. A shiver ran down my spine, and my stomach roiled, reminding me I’d skipped breakfast. The crematory hadn’t been an awful place to work. Being at the front desk meant avoiding what happened in the back, which was fine by me, thank you very much.
A flash of white caught my attention. I backtracked two steps and read the notice plastered to the door of Heavenly Delight, one of the nicer restaurants Smoky Vale had to offer.
Wanted: Servers. Must be able to work extra shifts if needed. Inquire inside for more information.
Should I? I’d been so done with restaurant work since I was a teenager, but beggars hardly had options, plus the opportunity of extra shifts was too tempting. I needed all the money I could get ASAP, and unless I walked into a sugar Daddy who gave me the keys to his treasure chest, this would have to do.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, then put one foot in front of the other. I could do this. I had to do this until another way presented itself.
The door was heavier than I’d thought, and I had to put all my nonexistent muscles into it to get it to open. I slipped inside, the blast of the A/C making it worth it, even if I didn’t get the job. The cool air brushed against my overheated skin, and I had to force myself not to raise my arms for some of it to hit my pits from hell.
“Excuse me,” I said to the host.
“Welcome to Heavenly Delight.” He smiled at me. Then he sniffed, and his face wrinkled up. “Are you dining with us today?”
“Not really. I saw the sign on the door that you wanted workers and—”
“Let me get the supervisor for you. She’ll be able to help.”
As he disappeared to the back, I stood awkwardly, aware of the curious glances customers were throwing at me. I surveyed the room, taking in the level of occupancy and the number of waiters working the floor to get a feel for how well I would do working in a place like this. I’d never eaten here before.
It was nicer than I’d expected.
The central feature of the dining area was an L-shaped bar where a few patrons were having drinks. The gray and wood panel design was offset by a splash of orange chairs to elevate the aesthetics. The pendant lamps above the tables added a flair of class. Why had I never eaten here before?
You can’t afford it.
“Hi, I’m the manager, Coco Pavelle, she/her. Serge said you were interested in working for us?”
At the deep voice, I swung around. The manager wasn’t at all what I expected from the protruding Adam’s apple to the broad shoulders in a stylish rose-colored blouse with a tie. She’d paired it with a black pencil skirt and strappy heels that made her legs look amazing.
“I’m Miles, he/him.” I stuck out my hand and shook hers. “And Serge is right. I saw your vacancy, and I’m interested.”
She assessed me. “Hmm, any experience?”
“About eighteen months, but it was a while back,” I said honestly, digging into the folder I’d been carrying around all day to get my résumé. I handed the clipped pages to her. “As you can see, I come highly qualified. I’m a fast learner with—”
