Dax, page 4
I could feel the stranger’s toned body beneath my arms. If I was half as buff as this guy, hanging on would be no problem. Not that I was weak; years of hard cleaning work had kept my arms and legs pretty well toned. But all the same, my position on the back of the bike felt pretty damned precarious. I was glad to feel the bike finally slowing down again.
We stopped outside a normal-looking house, and I raised an eyebrow at the guy. “So is this Otis’s place, or did you bring me here to, I don’t know, kill me or whatever?”
The guy barked out another laugh. “Calm down, would you? I’m not going to kill you. I don’t even know who the hell you are.”
I watched him get off his bike. He was tall, I suddenly realized. Really tall. I hadn’t noticed it before because he’d been leaning on his bike at first and then sitting down. But he had at least half a foot on me, maybe more, and I was a pretty respectable five nine. Tall and built. Like a fucking wall. With dark hair and piercing green eyes. Tall, dark, and handsome.
But I didn’t even know who he was.
I held out my hand to him. “I’m Olivia.”
He gave me a strange smile and shook my hand. “Dax,” he said.
“And you know Otis?” I asked.
“He’s my father,” Dax finally told me.
“Oh,” I said. Well didn’t that just make all the difference. I wondered why he couldn’t have told me that in the first place. I peered up at the building. “And this is his home?”
“Come on,” Dax said, grabbing my shoulder. “Let’s just get this whole thing over with.”
“Get what over with?” I asked.
But Dax didn’t answer as he steered me toward the front door. Well, fine then. I let myself be steered, only because what the hell else was I going to do in this situation? I didn’t have a lot of options. Especially not now that I was involved with not one but two gangs.
Suddenly, I felt a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach. What if these guys were part of the same gang? Becca had hinted that she knew a lot about the gang in Boston. Maybe these guys were involved with them and she had sent me here to clear the air or whatever. To prove she was loyal to them, so that she wouldn’t be in danger since she’d been with me when I stole those stupid shoes.
Surely, she wouldn’t turn me over to them just to save her own skin, would she?
I lightly touched my hair, remembering she had been the one to come up with the idea of disguising me. No, Becca hadn’t just handed me over to the gang. No matter how stupid I had been, no matter that I had risked her skin as well as mine, she wouldn’t do that. She was my best friend. I had to trust her. I had to trust there was a reason she had sent me here. I just wished this guy Dax wasn’t such a piece of work.
We headed inside, and Dax led me back to an office. There was another man with tattoos here, an older man, and I wondered if this was Otis. I wished Becca had given me a slightly better description of the man.
He frowned at me and then turned his attention to Dax. “I thought I made it clear she’s yours to protect,” he said.
Dax rolled his eyes, sitting in a seat next to me. “If you want me to babysit her, you’re going to have to tell me just what to be on the lookout for,” he said. “Because I don’t know if you’ve looked at her, but she doesn’t exactly look like our usual clientele.”
The older man narrowed his eyes at me. But then he looked at Dax and nodded. “Olivia, I don’t know what Becca has told you about me, or about us, but I’m Otis, and I’m the leader of the Grim Riders MC.”
I shrugged at him. “Sure,” I said. When he gave me a look, I ducked my head. “Sorry, I don’t really know what that means.”
Otis looked like he was trying not to roll his eyes. “What it means is that if there’s some other MC that’s after you, we’re here to offer you our protection.”
I stared at him. “Okay,” I finally said, slowly. I looked back and forth between Dax and Otis. I could definitely see where Dax, especially, could be a useful guy to have on my side. His pure size would make most men back down. But I knew that nothing in life came for free. “I don’t have the money to pay you guys, though.”
Otis grinned at me, flashing his teeth. “Becca has you covered.”
Yet another thing I was going to have to pay her back for at some point. And I had a feeling I owed her more than those damned shoes had cost in the first place. But there was nothing for it. I couldn’t just leave, not now. I didn’t have the money to get back to Boston, first of all, and anyway, if the arrangement had already been made, I might as well stay here and let these guys protect me.
“So what exactly are we protecting you from?” Dax asked. “Some other MC is after you?”
“I stole a pair of shoes,” I blurted out, not sure why I felt the need to fess up to it. “I knew the store was owned by one of the local gangs, but I didn’t think they would notice. Or that they would really care. But then they threatened to come after me, and I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think I could pay them enough to leave me alone. Even if I had the money, you know?”
“Jesus,” Dax muttered. “You stole a pair of shoes?” I could tell he wasn’t impressed. But I was doing my best to ignore him now that he had brought me to Otis. Otis was clearly the one in charge here. If I played my cards right, maybe I wouldn’t even have to have anything to do with Dax after this.
I could only hope so.
“Becca told me that she already helped disguise you as much as she could, but you’re going to need to go by something other than Olivia while you’re here,” Otis said.
I snorted. “Do you really think they’re going to care enough to come after me?” I asked.
Otis narrowed his eyes at me. “If they do and you’re under my protection, it means that you’re putting my guys at risk,” he said. “So whether or not I think it’s likely that they come after you, it’s a precaution that we’re going to take. From now on, you’ll go by the name of Molly. You’re from out of town, but not from Boston. We’ll say you’re from Michigan. You moved here after your parents died.”
“Why the hell would I choose to move to Greenboro?” I couldn’t help snapping.
Otis gave me a mild look. “Because it was small and quiet and you thought you could get some writing done here,” he suggested. “And because your boyfriend lives here.”
“My boyfriend?” I asked, jaw practically dropping when he said that.
“You’re going to be staying with Dax until I can fix things with the other gang,” Otis said firmly. “And Molly, I might add that none of this is a request. If you’re going to stay here, in my protection, then you’re going to play by my rules.”
Dax groaned, putting his face in his hands. “Seriously?” he asked. But he shut up at the look his father gave him.
My reaction was pretty similar, though. “Fuck, maybe I should have just stayed in Boston and let that other gang do whatever the hell they wanted to do with me,” I said.
Otis narrowed his eyes at me. “If that’s what you think, you’re welcome to leave,” he said. “But I’ve had some experience with them in the past. And you’ll be lucky if they kill you for what you did.”
He didn’t go into any more details, but to be honest, he didn’t have to. I had heard enough stories. Again, not that I believed all the stories but, well. I swallowed hard and glanced over at Dax. Hopefully, he had a big enough house that we barely had to interact with one another.
I’d spent the whole bus ride wondering just what it was that Becca had gotten me caught up in.
Now, I wished I didn’t know.
Chapter 7
Dax
TO SAY I WASN’T THRILLED to take Olivia home with me was the understatement of the century. Or sorry, Molly. I guessed that was what we were calling her. But I could think of a few other names I would rather call her.
Who the hell steals a pair of fucking shoes from a gang? And then turns to another gang for protection? She was the epitome of stupid missions that I shouldn’t be worried about. But in light of the Kane situation, I didn’t feel like I could stand my ground now.
Fuck, what a mess.
I left Molly standing in the hallway when we got to my house, bounding up the steps two at a time to grab a blanket and then bounding back downstairs before she had even finished toeing her shoes off. “Come on,” I said to her, jerking my head toward the living room. I tossed the blanket on the couch. “You can stay there. Sorry, don’t have a guest room.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “Quite the bachelor pad, isn’t this place?” she asked, eyeing the admittedly masculine décor.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m a member of one of the most powerful biker clubs in Massachusetts,” I pointed out. “What the hell were you expecting?” But there was a slightly defensive note to my voice. The truth was, I’d had a decorator in here when I first bought the place, but she’d made it feel so impersonal. And since then, I’d done my best to make it feel more personal, but that seemed to mean just making it look more and more like a bachelor pad: model cars and bikes on the bookcases and posters covering most of the walls. It was all stuff I liked, though, so I refused to feel ashamed of it.
And maybe it was ungentlemanly of me, but there was no way in hell I was giving up my bed for her.
For a moment, I toyed with the idea of asking her if she wanted to share the bed. She was sexy, that was for sure, and she clearly could use a good lay to get her to relax a little. But I had the feeling she wasn’t going to be interested in that, and fuck, I didn’t feel like fighting her over it. Better to give her the couch and let her get comfortable. Someone else could remove the stick up her ass.
I definitely wasn’t going to let her get to me. I’d dealt with women like her before. You know, privileged women with money, the kind who thought a one-bedroom apartment was hell. Boston was full of them. Next thing I knew, she was going to be asking me what clubs there were in Greenboro, and when I told her that the closest we had to a club was the corner bar, things probably weren’t going to go so well.
But you know what? She should have thought about that before she stole a pair of fucking shoes.
I wondered how she had stolen them. Was it like in those movies, where the rich woman puts them on and conveniently “forgets” to take them off before leaving the store? Was she some status “It girl” who just stole to get her kicks? I wondered what the hell she thought she was going to do here. Unless I wanted Dad pissed off at me, I was going to have to keep a short leash on her.
And that started with getting her set up on the couch. I didn’t care what kind of vacation resorts she was used to staying at; this was far from a vacation, and this was what I had.
Molly sat gingerly on the very edge of the couch, looking expectantly at me. I had to fight to keep from laughing. What, did she think I was going to entertain her now? I was here to look out for her, nothing more.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I told her. I was still grease-covered from working on the bike with Xander that afternoon.
“Fine,” Molly said primly.
I headed upstairs to do just that. When I came back downstairs, Molly was just closing the door of the desk in the living room. She had the grace to look guilty as I narrowed my eyes at her. “This isn’t a hotel,” I told her. “And this isn’t your stuff.”
“I know,” she said, but there was something in the way she said it that was entirely unrepentant. Jesus, what a piece of work. As though I hadn’t thought that enough since I met her at the bus station. “I’m hungry,” she finally said. “I need to eat, you know.”
I rolled my eyes. “Then go into the kitchen and find something to make,” I told her.
“I was hoping that maybe we could go somewhere,” Molly said. “I mean, Greenboro has to be big enough to warrant a restaurant, right? Show me the town. There has to be more to it than just houses.” The words were rude, but she grinned at me as though it was some sort of inside joke.
To be honest, I had to doubt that she knew how to cook anything. Stupid rich bitch.
I also realized that this had to be difficult for her. She had been uprooted from her whole life to come here to Greenboro. No doubt she was tired and upset. I could cut her some slack, write off her haughtiness as being due to frustration on her part, something that had nothing to do with me. But I wasn’t feeling charitable, and she was already imposing on me just by being there. That might not be her fault, but it rankled me all the same.
“We’re not going anywhere,” I said shortly. Were there places in Greenboro that we could go out to dinner right now? Sure. But who knew how long she was going to be here. I didn’t want to set the precedent that we were going to go out every night.
And besides, I didn’t want to chance running into anyone else from the MC. I knew they were all going to find out I had this stupid job, because we all knew exactly what everyone else was up to at any given point. But I kind of hoped I could prolong the inevitable. I knew exactly the kind of teasing I would get for getting this stupid babysitting job for some uppity city kid who had stolen a pair of shoes.
They wouldn’t know it just from looking at us. I wasn’t celibate, and no doubt everyone would think I was banging her. But they were bound to find out that wasn’t the case.
Ugh. I just hoped that whatever Dad was planning, he managed to fix things for her quickly. I wanted her out of my life.
“Where are you going?” Molly asked as I headed out of the living room.
I glanced back at her over my shoulder, raising an eyebrow at her. “Upstairs to trim my beard,” I told her. “You want to come watch or something?”
I could see the flush spread from her cheeks all the way down to the low neckline of her shirt. “I was just wondering,” she muttered, not meeting my gaze. I could tell she wanted to say something else, maybe bitch me out for being rude to her or something. But I didn’t care. And she wisely held her tongue.
Not that I could throw her out or something anyway. I sighed and headed upstairs.
When I came back downstairs a little while later, though, I poked my head into the kitchen to see if she needed any help. No use starving her to death. I wouldn’t put it past her to pitch a fit to Dad if she didn’t feel like I was treating her the way she deserved. It was one thing to put her on the couch to sleep when I legitimately didn’t have a guest room. But I should at least make sure she was fed.
She wasn’t in the kitchen, though. Nor was she in the living room. I covered the whole house, wondering if she was poking in the drawers in my bedroom or something stupid like that. But she wasn’t anywhere.
Fuck.
I had my phone out of my pocket before I had finished searching the whole place. Greenboro wasn’t that big, but if I was going to find her fast, before anyone else got to her (or before she got back to the clubhouse to see Dad), I was going to need a second pair of eyes.
“Xander, I lost this girl I’m meant to be keeping safe. Club business,” I said, not even bothering with a hello.
“What does she look like?” Xander asked immediately. “Where do you need me to look?”
It was one of the things I had always loved about the MC. No matter what the situation was, no matter what my brothers were in the middle of, they were always there for me. To help and to entertain. For better and for worse.
With Xander’s help, I was sure we could find Molly quickly. Before she could, I don’t know, get on a bus back to Boston or something equally stupid. God, what a piece of work. My first night watching her and she had already slipped out. I sure hoped Dad got her situation sorted out quickly.
Chapter 8
Olivia
I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT the hell I had been thinking in coming to Greenboro, but it took me very little time to realize that this was a mistake. There was no way I could stay in a town like this. Especially not with that guy. Dax. God, what an asshole.
Should I feel bad for stealing fifty bucks out of his wallet? I was never going to come back here to pay him back. And as boorish as he was, I had to respect the fact that he had been trying to help me. I didn’t particularly want to sleep on his couch for however long I was stuck in Greenboro, but I also knew this had to be unexpected for him, just like it was for me.
But I couldn’t stay there. I didn’t feel comfortable getting tangled up with yet another motorcycle gang, for one. If I wanted that, I would have just stayed back in Boston and taken my chances with the guys that I had pissed off in the first place. And beyond that, how the hell was this supposed to keep me from getting found? A new hairstyle and a different name, sure. But I still stuck out like a sore thumb in this town. These guys had probably all lived here for their entire lives. I was bound to be found by the guys from Boston, if they barely tried looking for me.
Better face the consequences of my actions before I made things even worse for myself. Fifty bucks would get me back to Boston. Once I got there, I was going to have no choice but to throw myself at the gang there and beg for mercy. I didn’t have the kind of money they wanted, but maybe we could work out some sort of deal that didn’t involve them owning my body or whatever it was that they had hinted at before.
I had to hope.
I was relieved to find out there was another bus going out to Boston that night. The last bus out that night. It would leave in about twenty minutes. Maybe this was a sign that my luck was turning around.
I quickly bought a ticket, using most of the money I had stolen from Dax in the process. What little was left, I stuck in my pocket. But I paused for a moment, looking at the small shop in the station. I was starving; I hadn’t eaten since the previous night. I’d been planning to cook something when I got back from the grocery store, but then, of course, everything had gotten chaotic.
I didn’t want to use more of the limited cash I had, though. I was going to need every last penny to pay off what I owed to the gang. Hopefully, if I sincerely showed them that I didn’t have anything, they would take the shoes and the little money I could scrape together and count it as even. Hopefully, it wouldn’t need to go any further than that.
