Destroying Beauty (Hell Hounds Motorcycle Club): Vegas Titans Series (13 page)

Dale now openly laughs next to me.

"So you're not jealous?" Holt asks, raising one
eyebrow suspiciously.

"They can look, but they can't touch, right? So I'm not
jealous."

"Mmhm. You're doing pretty well here," he says,
eyeing my progress.

"I thought you were crazy, bringing this little girl to
work, but she's not bad, I have to say," Dale comments.

"See? 'Not bad!'"

"Are you campaigning to get a job with me right
now?" Holt asks, a touch of incredulousness in his voice.

"Maybe," I say, shrugging my shoulders as I press
the shovel deeper into the dirt with my foot.

"Hey, boss!" another of Holt's crew calls from
across the yard. He turns over his shoulder to look at him.

"See you at lunch!" I call after him as he starts
to walk away. I take a deep breath of the fresh air and pause my shovel to
listen to the quiet, so different from the hectic sounds of my workplace.

I could get used to this.

Chapter Fourteen

Holt

"…And there's been no sign of Jose Medina since
then," I finish, laying it all out for Bark. Well, almost all.

He shifts a little, scratching his beard as he leans back in
his chair at the head of the Cave's table. "You certainly seem
passionate."

"She saved my life!" His eyes flick over to mine.
Fuck. I heard it. I'm putting too much behind my words. It's out of character.

"So tell me about her," he says, crossing his feet
on the table.

"What?"

"You've spent a lot of time with her. I just want to
get an idea of what we're dealing with here. She from around here?"

"No, Florida, originally. She moved out here to live
with her grandmother when her mom went to prison."

"For?"

"Fraud. She's been in and out since then."

"So Jo's not inexperienced in dealing with the
law."

"No. She's not…naïve. Innocent, maybe. She got divorced
over a year ago, from her high school sweetheart. She's bartending at Billy's
to pay the bills, but she's smart."

"I heard that she's worked with your landscaping crew a
couple times."

"You
heard that
? From who? You've been watching
me?" I feel heat rising to my face.

"You don't see her clearly. You think she's really
interested in you?"

"What's that got to do with it?"

"I'm saying that the whole thing you've built with her
is fake, and you need to remember that. You think she'd still be interested if
she knew who you really are? That you're in a motorcycle gang? That you've
killed?"

"I—"

"Just remember that before you go putting her before
your club."

I take a deep breath. "I'm not putting her before the
club. I'm just saying, she saved my life. You know as well as I do that means I
owe her something. And like I said, she didn't see anything. She can't ID Fish.
She's not going to the cops. I've found out everything you asked me to,
everything we needed to know. So the situation's over." I make direct eye
contact, daring him to call me out.

"The situation…so you'll stop seeing her then?"

"I wanted to talk to you about that…"

"Jesus fucking Christ," Bark swears, bringing his
legs off the table and setting his chair square on the floor with a bang.
"Holt, you are the last person I thought I'd ever have to worry about this
with. Your…emotional distance is your gift. You're able to see things
rationally. That's why you and Fish are such a good counterbalance."

I grunt. I don't like being put in the same sentence as that
psycho. Bark shakes his head at me.

"You don't understand the value that someone like him
brings to the club. It's no secret that you're being groomed for a real
leadership position here, Holt. Maybe even for my job, one day. To do that, you
need to understand what he offers. He's feared in other clubs, he's loyal,
willing to jump in to do shit that not every brother is willing to do."

"He's a liability," I hiss.

"He's a weapon. And like all weapons, he needs to be
watched, handled carefully. But he is valuable. And the bullshit between you
two needs to stop, especially if you think you're going to be sitting in this
seat one day." He leans forward, his eyes boring into mine. "If she
does know something, and you're protecting her, it's not just Fish that will
pay the consequences. If the cops start investigating us, turning over whatever
they find, they could bring down the whole club."

The door to the Cave behind me creaks, and I snap my head
back at it, glancing up the stairwell. There's no one there.

"She's not going to the cops. I swear it," I say.
And it's true. She was leaning toward not going anyway, and all I had to do was
confirm her suspicion of them was valid. Bark leans back in his chair with a
nod, looking somewhat satisfied.

"And with Fish...I'll handle it. You won't hear
anything from me about him," I continue.

"The girl…tread carefully. She doesn't know our way of
life."

Was that Bark's implicit approval to move forward with Jo?

"Thanks."

We both stand up from the table and Bark claps me on the
back as I turn to go. I take the stairs two at a time as we return to the
comparatively bright lounge. I frown, fingering my cell phone in my pocket.

It'll be tough to explain club life to Jo, but I think
she'll understand if I ease her into it. What's really troubling me is that I
just outright lied to my club president, something I never thought I would do. Jo
said she heard a clicking sound, one that I recognized immediately as being
Fish's throat tic, though it's not like there could ever be a lineup with that
to go on.
Gentleman, please step forward one by one and make a weird
swallowing-type noise with your Adam's Apple.
Jo will never be able to ID
Fish. Even if she heard the noise again, who knows if she's actually recognize
it?

Even if she could, I'm not telling Bark or anyone else about
it. They could overreact and want to get rid of her, and I can't let that
happen. Protecting Jo seems more like fate than a choice. From deep within me,
I can feel it. It's just something I have to do.

Chapter Fifteen

Jo

I nervously run my fingers over my t-shirt, feeling the lace
of my new lingerie beneath it. It's not really the type of stuff made for
everyday wear, and doesn't sit quite right under normal clothes, but I want it
to be a surprise for Holt. It's been hours, not days, since I last saw him, and
I'm already craving my next fix.

And it's not just my new purchase that's giving me
butterflies in my stomach. I think Holt might actually be considering taking me
on to his landscaping company, and then I could quit working at Billy's. Not
that that's the only reason I want to work with him—to leave here. I've found I
love doing that work, using my body, and having my mind go a little quieter for
a while. I love learning about all the plant species, and thinking about what
I'd put where. Not that it's all just physical labor, either. Holt thinks about
the pH levels in the soil, sustainability, price.

A small smile comes to my lips. Three weeks ago I felt like
my world was caving in on me, and now I have a new man in my life, and maybe a
new career.

My buzzer sounds, surprising me, and Holt's voice crackles
over the speaker. I push the button to let him in and pace around my living
room until I hear his knock at my door. I bite my lip as I open the door. He's
freshly showered, his still-damp hair tumbling just over his shoulders, and his
black t-shirt stretched over his giant chest. I want to throw myself on him
immediately, but I notice he's standing a bit awkwardly with his hands behind
his back.

"I have something for you," he murmurs seriously,
and brings his arms in front of him. I grin as I see what he's holding. Women's
gardening gloves. I take them from his hands, touching the green and white
stitching.

"Does this mean what I think it means?"

"Jo, will you…come and work for me?"

I laugh. "I thought you'd never ask!" I pull on
the gloves. They're a perfect fit, unlike the men's gloves he has that swim on
my hands. I frown slightly even as I admire them. "Are you sure this isn't
too much too soon? I mean, we're already spending a lot of time together, and
even couples that have been together for years don't necessarily want to work
together. And there are other landscaping jobs I could look for."

"Fuck, jumping to my competition already."

"You know what I mean."

He closes the door behind him and steers me over to the couch.
"Look, this kind of work isn't like an office job anyway. We work when we
get the jobs, so we won't always be on top of each other. Though with what
you've been dealing with, I don't know if that would be such a bad thing.
Besides, I can always fire you."

"Gee, thanks. OK, just one more concern."

"Lay it on me," he says, sinking onto the nearest
seat and tucking his arm along the back of the couch.

"Am I actually a good worker? I mean, you're not just
hiring me because I'm your girlfriend, right? I've been doing pushups to
increase my upper body strength, and I promise I'll keep doing those."

He begins to laugh quietly, rubbing his eyes with his thumb
and pointer finger. "You're a good worker. Even Dale said so. Any more
concerns?"

"No, that’s it. Thank you!" I fling my arms around
his neck, my nose brushing against the scruff on his neck. "I'll give my
two weeks' notice at Billy's tomorrow."

"And that's when I can beat up Carl?"

Holt now harbors a deep dislike of my manager, ever since I
told him how he hits on me.

"No, no beating up Carl. Even after I quit."

"Mm, we'll see," he says, his arm dropping
casually onto my back. "There's actually something I wanted to talk to you
about, too…" he trails off as his fingers begin to inch around, exploring.
"What exactly am I feeling here? What do you have on under this?" he
asks, attempting to peer down the front of my shirt.

"A surprise," I admit, blushing, now suddenly shy.

"A surprise?" he echoes, his eyes lighting up.
"Lemme see," he says, reaching for the bottom hem of my shirt.

"Wait, wait," I giggle. "OK, just promise you
won't laugh. I've never worn anything like this before and I'm worried I'm
going to look…silly."

"If it's what I think it is, you're not going to look
silly," he replies slowly, his eyes practically glowing.

I giggle again. God, I don't know what's wrong with me. It's
not like Holt and I haven't had sex before, but something about this is making
me all nervous again. "Alright, you go wait in the bedroom. I'll be right
in."

He smiles in a way that makes me shiver and obediently heads
into the bedroom. I stand and follow him, breaking off into the bathroom to
finish my look. I pull the stockings out from under the sink where I stashed
them and remove my shirt and jeans. The garters had been uncomfortable tucked
into my pants, and I rub the little pink indentations they left in my skin. I
sit on the edge of the tub as I carefully unroll the stockings up my legs,
clipping them onto the garter.

After I finish, I stand up and study myself in the mirror,
fluffing my hair up with my fingers. I got the black and white lace corset with
its attached garter belt and matching panties at the mall earlier today. It was
actually tough to get on, with all the snaps going up the back. It's strapless,
and even I have to admit that my breasts are sitting high and firm in this
thing.

I fan my red cheeks with my hands as I step into my black
pumps, tucked on the tile floor next to the toilet. OK, time for the big
reveal.

I step toward my bedroom, poking my head around the
doorframe. Holt's sitting on the bed, his elbows resting on his legs, his
fingers interlaced between him. He's still fully clothed, with just his shoes
and socks placed by the foot. He looks so…contemplative.