Deadly Sins: An MC Biker Romance (8 page)

CHAPTER TEN

Roman checked the hair-strand he had stuck in the door jam, and it was still there. He opened his door, and went inside, leaving the Do Not Disturb sign on the handle.

He made the call, and Brent answered. "Roman? What's up?"

"Am I in good standing?"

Brent paused. "Yes. You would know if you weren't."

"No one talking about my absence, or what I'm doing?"

"No, nothing. What's going on. Tell me everything."

Roman told him everything.

"Laura Turner? Shit man, you are something else," he smiled.

"She's a hot one, yes, and I got it bad."

Brent got serious. "This sounds like club, but it's not."

"Then someone's off the reservation."

"Sounds like it to me as well."

"I need a hunting license then."

"You’re thinking patch-holder? Hmm." Brent drummed his fingers on the desk in front of him, and leaned back. "Non-officer, you can do as you wish. Officer? I want answers before retribution. Understand?"

"Who do I call for pickup?"

Brent gave him two numbers. "Either of those should get you someone. Several someones."

"I'm moving in with her, so Skype is good. She'll leave the house if necessary. But thought you should know before you ring me. Also, there's something else I wanted to bring up. Now is as good a time as any." He explained his concerns about paparazzi, and club business.

Brent laughed. "You're only now thinking of this? Brother, that was my first concern when you were going to Hollywood."

Roman shifted in his chair.

"Ah, don't take it like that," Brent told him. "Don't worry about it. You're a strip-club owner, and insulated from the rest of the business. But... Roman... you are the club owner. That's not negotiable. We need you in that position. Whatever else you want to get into is fine with me. But the club has to stay running, and you are the owner. Understand?"

"So, the regular trips down for a few days a month, and making sure it is being managed well."

"Right, and if you have any problem with managing, you let me know, and I'll set you up with good management."

"That's more than I hoped for. I'm glad I talked to you. I'll keep you informed of what is going on."

"Do that, but you probably don't have to ask permission for anything if you get more gigs. It's kind of interesting that you are going to be seen on the big screen, even if it's just a name. Shit, it's been a wild ride, hasn't it?"

Roman smiled. "Yeah, it really has. Never would have guessed this was coming."

"Me neither. Alright, good night, and good hunting."

"Thanks."

***

She woke in his arms, and sighed. She laid there for several minutes, and then reached over, and turned off the alarm before it rang.

She had a man in her bed. In her real bed. The one in her home. And he brought his stuff back with him. He was living here... for a while. Maybe longer? She smiled. She hoped so, because it felt really good to be home, and held by him while she slept.

He came home in a fairly good mood. After setting his stuff up in her closet, which she was going to have to clean out to make room for him, he made love to her for several hours.

She slipped out of bed, and her new-and-improved abs were sore from the cluster climaxes she had with him. It felt like she had done massive crunches last night.

Was she training today? No. Today was the re-shooting of her dance scene.

Shit.

Pain pills, and coffee. She could do this. She loved doing this.

She got down stairs, and saw the sheets tacked to her wall. It was good that they were there. Roman was right. That message was not what she wanted to see first thing in the morning.

"Not over-kill at all. Just looking after me." Her mother and father had looked after her, but no one else. Now she had Roman.

She tried not to think of him staying here, for more than his club gave him permission to already... six months? A year at the most? Then back to San Diego? Commuting on the train?

Right now, she couldn't see him gone. She needed him. Didn't he need her? Did he? She didn't know. He was so strong, so powerful, she couldn't picture him needing anything. Not really.

On auto-pilot she made coffee, and then put food in Minion's bowl. For a moment she was confused -- why didn't Minion come running like she always did? Then she remembered, and tears rolled down her cheeks. "Poor baby," she whimpered.

She was hugging herself, and then Roman was hugging her from behind. She leaned back into him, "I miss her."

"She'll be home soon."

"She needs pain management," she whimpered. "My Minion is in pain."

"Will be for a while, but we'll take care of her," he told her.

"We?"

"Yes, we."

"Can I be in love with you yet? Has it been long enough?"

"Gawd, I hope so."

"Why?"

"Because I'm seriously in love with you."

"You are?" she asked, turning to face him. "Don't fuck with me on this Roman. I'll be very miffed."

"Miffed?"

"Seriously pissed off," she smiled.

"You forgot one."

"I by-passed it, because I'm serious."

"I've known for a while, but didn't want to put much hope into it, you know? Because of the club."

"What changed?"

"I have to be the owner of Pacers, but other than that, I can be here as long as I want," he told her.

"You can? So, you ... the writing?"

"Yes, the writing, and more importantly, you."

"More important?" she asked.

"Very much so."

"I want you to stay here, did I mention that?"

"Yes, and I would like that as well. I checked out of the hotel."

"Coffee... honey?"

"Love some."

They took their own vehicles to work, because she might be working late today.

She walked onto the set, and into her trailer, and came out as Julie Storm, as smooth as ever.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Laura's dance scene, after being warmed up by two experts, turned out far better than the orig
inal, and incorporated her slow-motion scorpion-kick. She got her inspiration for the routine from dancing for Roman, and listening to him afterward describe some of the routines the girls in his club performed.

Watching the scene over on the monitors, she was very pleased. So was Mike, and at the end of the day, that's what counted.

The next scene was the bar fight, where she basically hid behind Brick Tanner for the whole thing, and threw bottles at people. The bottles were made from a special sugar-glass, and if she wasn't careful, they broke in her hand before she could throw them. That happened three times. It was an active scene, and seemed to take forever for Mike to finally get enough good footage.

Roman was on the set for that whole scene. He pointed out areas for improvement, encouraged the actors, and stunt men, and was generally a breath of laughter when she was sure frustration was reaching the danger point. She hadn't really experienced his sense of humor, but he had her abs, and her cheeks, cramping after a few hours.

As it was, it was eight o'clock before they left the set, and the last thing she wanted to see was a bottle of beer.

Roman walked out with her, his bike was parked right beside her car, in the same stall. They were about to leave when a young woman ran up to him. "Roman?"

"Yeah?"

"Hi Laura, can I talk to Roman for a minute? I'm Margret, from the Day Breaker's sit-com? Anyway, Jimmy told me to talk to you because you were fantastic with humor," she said, looking back and forth between the two of them.

"I'm just heading home..." Roman began.

"This is only a short thing, please?"

Laura said, "Go ahead, I'll get some diner started, and then we can go out."

"I thought we were going to Rhumb Line?"

"I want to cook. Is that alright?" she asked.

"Well... um... can you?"

"Oh, you are in so much trouble! You should stay, and help her out, and think of a really good apology while you're at it." She smiled, and got in her car.

She heard Margret yell "Thank you!" She waved, and drove off the set.

On her way home, she wanted to stop by, and see how Minion was doing, but Minion was on pain pills, and would probably be out of it, so she satisfied herself with calling the hospital to check on her.

As expected, Minion was out of it, and she wouldn't be able to visit right now anyway, it was too late. She was assured that Minion was doing fine though, and she was very lucky the ribs were merely cracked, and not broken.

Lucky?

She let it pass, they were just trying to comfort her. They just sucked at it, that's all.

She pulled up to her house, and went inside. Setting her purse, and keys on the small table by the door, she walked into the living room, and the hairs on her arms and neck went up. She spun in time to see a man come out of the downstairs bedroom, the one she used as a home office, and library. He slapped her hard, and she went to the floor with a scream.

"What's he been telling you, cunt?"

"What?"

He reached down, grabbed her by the lapels of her jacket, and lifted her to her feet, then back handed her, "Don't fuck with me. Roman! What's he told you about the club!"

"He owns a strip-club!" she screamed, her head spinning from the two blows.

"No! You silly twat! The drugs! What's he told you about the drug drops?"

He pulled her close this time, and was about to yell something else, when it clicked that this was the man who hurt Minion. Fire went through her blood, and her leg shot up behind her, and then the scorpion-kick smashed into the bridge of his nose.

The man let go of her, in pain and confusion. She brought her leg back down, using the momentum of the movement, twisting her hip, her hand reaching out and grabbing the man by his shoulders, and then brought her knee hurtling up into his groin. The connection lifted him off his feet. His eyes bulged, and then crossed. He doubled over. She clenched her hands together into one fist, and with a scream of fury brought it down from over her head, to the back of his skull, just above the neck.

The man collapsed like he was dead.

Roman came through the door like a hurricane. She could feel his rage blistering the air around her. She turned, and ran to him. He swept her into his arms. "You alright?"

"He hurt Minion!" she cried.

He pushed her gently behind him, and crossed the room, the power of him kept her by the door. If it was Roman, and not the other man, who attacked her, she knew she wouldn't have been able to move, let alone kick him. She was petrified of him now.

Roman grabbed a handful of the man's hair, and lifted him up, several feet, to take a look at his face. "Hello Lex," he growled, and then dropped the unconscious man to the floor, his head smacking with a bounce off the wood floor. Roman kicked him hard, into the side, and Laura heard bones crack.

"That's going to hurt when you wake up Lex, but that's the least of your worries." Then he pulled out his phone, and speed dialed a number.

"Yeah, this is Roman. I need a pickup." He waited for a moment, and then gave her address. "Thirty minutes? Fine. He'll be here," he said, and pocketed his phone.

"Honey?" he asked.

"Yes dear?" she shivered.

"There is a leather belt in my bag upstairs, could you go get it for me?"

She ran upstairs, not sure who she was more terrified of at the moment, Lex or Roman, and fairly sure it was Roman. She never imagined such rage, such violence in him. Wasn't he just laughing everyone up at the set? Wasn't he the man who gently soothed her last night? How could that be Roman, and this be Roman too?

She grabbed the belt, and brought it down to him. Instead of using it on his wrists, Roman used it to bring his arms together, behind him, at the elbows. This looked far more effective to her.

Then he walked over to her. She backed away on instinct, but when she looked in his eyes, he was Roman again, her Roman. She came to him then, and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to his chest.

"You are very scary when you are mad," she told him.

"That wasn't mad, that was wrath."

"Ah, I'll keep that in mind."

He rubbed her back, and then fondled her ass, which seemed weird at first, with Lex unconscious and broken on the floor only a few feet away. That worry soon cleared away to a soothing relaxation that she fell gratefully into.

"Better?"

"Hmmm."

"Why don't you get some dinner started, and I'll wait for the men to show up."

"Men?"

"Yes, probably three or four. They are going to give Lex a ride down to San Diego to talk to Brent."

"Will he scream?"

"I guarantee it," he told her.

"Good. He hit me."

"Looks like you got him..."

"Well...I kicked him...scorpion. And then I brought my leg back around to knee him in the balls. Then...I just balled up my fists together, and smashed his head. Then you came in. Gawd, I was so scared."

"He's not going to hurt you now."

"Not of him, of you!"

"Me?"

"You were very...wrathful," she nodded against him.

"I would never hurt you."

"I know that, but knowing that didn't make you less scary. Remember the rides at Magic Mountain? You knew it wasn't really dangerous, but that didn't matter when the drop started. You are a Wrathful Mountain ride."

He laughed, and it was such a beautiful laugh, so full of life. that it sucked her in, and she was laughing with him.

This is my Roman, she thought to herself.

"So, dinner?" he asked.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Will the men want some, as well?"

"What are you making?"

"Spaghetti? Does that sound good? I have fresh mushrooms."

"I think feeding them before their long drive would be just fine," he nodded.

The men arrived. Three of them. Two of them were smaller than Roman, but not by much. The third was a monster of a man, named Butch. She looked at Butch as he ducked his head to come into her door, and decided to add another can of tomato sauce to the pot.

Butch looked at her, and smiled broadly. "Hey, you are the scorpion-kick girl!" His voice was like tectonic plate movements. "Can I have your autograph? Is it alright, Roman?"

"Up to her, Butch," Roman said.

"Sure, Butch. Would you like some spaghetti?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am. That would be very nice." Butch said very politely, his voice vibrating her bones.

She served the men at her table, and felt like a little home maker. Except for the unconscious man on her floor, and the mammoth sized Butch, it was all very normal, and kind of nice.

Afterward, Butch picked up Lex, using one hand, and carried him out of her house. "It was very nice meeting you, Ms. Turner. I'm a big fan. I can't wait to see your movie."

"Thank you Butch. Why don't you call Roman, and I'll get you opening-night tickets. You, and your two friends."

He looked at Roman. "Is that alright?"

"Sure, you have my number. Call me when you are back in town."

"Oh, that is so nice. Thank you. And don't worry about this man. We'll take care of him. He won't bother you, again Ms. Turner."

They left, and she turned to Roman. "Um, they aren't going to kill him, are they?"

"No, he's a prospect. Brent will strip his patch, beat him for a while, and then tell him to get out of San Diego, and Los Angeles. However, if he doesn't, well...that's a different issue."

"Oh. Ok. I want him hurt, but...killing is a bit much for the crime, isn't it?"

"I agree."

"Good. How was the spaghetti?"

"You definitely have talent in the kitchen," he admitted. "Now, show me what you did to Lex. That sounded amazing. Really. I think we'll want to use that for the third Julie fight."

She shook her head, "Tomorrow, on the set, I'll show you. This is my home, our home. No work here."

He nodded, "Sounds like a wise rule. I stand corrected."

"Thank you."

"So, a ride to the beach?" he asked.

"Oh, yes please," she smiled.

   *   *   *  

The next day, Roman, three stunt men, and Mike, had her do her attack, which landed Lex on her living-room floor. Mike was ecstatic, but he had a habit of being ecstatic lately.

The stunt men worked out how to get through the attack without getting hurt by her. Roman talked to Mike about camera angles, and sequencing of the cuts, so the full effect of the attack would show up on the screen. She discovered that they were right, Roman really had a gift for getting the most out of a shot.