Jailbait (23 page)

The man on the motorcycle looks me right in the eyes. He shifts his gaze to Grayson, and the most wicked smile pulls his lips into a sneer. He twists the throttle, revving the engine as a threat, and streetlight reflect off the iridescent threat wound throughout the patch of a large reaper on the back of his leather jacket.
 

Chapter Nineteen

Grayson
 

I pull Pepper close to me and turn around, blocking her from view. What the fuck? Are they following me? How do they—oh shit.
 

The picture Pepper took yesterday of the two of us at the zoo. She posted it on some social media site. I don’t follow shit like that, and being in prison for years made me a bit out of touch with everything mainstream. But I know Pepper has a lot of followers and it wouldn’t be hard to connect me to her.
 

And her to me.
 

“I’m either going crazy or that guy is stalking me too,” Pepper says.
 

I take her hand and bring her through the door of whatever store we’re in front of. I don’t even look at what it is. My only concern is getting Pepper off the street and out of a direct line of sight. I keep my body between her and the street, just in case.
 

“You’ve seen him before?” I lean close to Pepper, who flicks her eyes around the little shop. We’re in a gourmet deli and café, and everyone is watching us. It doesn’t fucking matter.
 

“Not him specifically, but I’ve seen guys wearing that same patch.”
 

“When?” I demand. “When did you first see them?”
 

“A while ago. Two weeks? Three? I don’t remember.” She closes her eyes as she thinks. I know she’s rattled. I know a lot of info has been thrown at her in the last few minutes. But I need her to think.
 

“When, Pepper?”
 

She turns, aware that everyone on the shop is watching us. Her eyes close for a second, then her face pales. “The night I was mugged. Almost mugged.”
 

“Dammit,” I mutter a little too loud. We don’t need any more attention. I want to glare back and tell them to mind their own fucking business. Though it’s probably not every day they see someone like me with someone like Pepper. Then I remember that I’m in a designer suit and look like someone she very well should be with. Looks are so fucking deceiving.
 

“Sit,” Pepper says, collecting herself. I take a seat at a small metal table, foot tapping on the ground as I go over everything in my head. I was too concerned with
not
being there when the cops showed up to get a good look at those asshole’s patches. I should have drilled them, or at the very least dragged their unconscious bodies into the light to have a better look.

But I didn’t. I went to Pepper and then left like a goddamn fool all because I didn’t want to risk going back to jail. Now Pepper could be in danger. It’s not possible to hate myself more than I do right now.

Pepper returns with cheese and a bottle of wine. She doesn’t open the wine, but nervously picks apart the cheese, taking tiny bites.
 

“I need you to tell me everything from that night,” I say quietly.
 

“You already know it.”
 

“I know what happened to you. And I hate asking you to relive that night.” I reach over and take her hand. “Before they saw you, before they attacked, did you see them? What were they doing?”
 

She closes her eyes for a few seconds, then opens them and breaks another piece of cheese off the block. “One was on the phone. He was talking about something looking like a picture…something about skulls.”
 

“Fuck,” I say and pound my fist on the table. Pepper puts both hands on top of mine
 

“Gray, calm down. This isn’t the place for it, and you’re really scaring me.”
 

My heart of stone instantly melts, and I unball my fingers, flipping my hand over and giving Pepper’s a squeeze. “We need to go. Your uncle…he lives close, right?”
 

“Yeah. Why?”
 

“I need you to go there. Lock the doors. Keep your security team around.”
 

“What about you?”
 

“I have to check out something.”
 

Pepper shakes her head and holds tightly to my hand. “No. I’m not letting you leave like this again.”

“I’ll come back this time. I promise.”
 

Tears fill her eyes. “That’s what you said last time. Grayson, whatever is going on, we can get through it together.”
 

“As much as I want to be together, I don’t want you involved. These people—if it’s really them—they’re not good people. Take all the bad things I did and roll it into one. It doesn’t hold a candle to what they’re capable of.”
 

Pepper’s grip on my hand tightens. I don’t mean to terrify her, though at the same time she needs to get the seriousness of the situation. “Shouldn’t we go to the police?”
 

The word makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. The police. They take one look at me and see my record, see me as a troublemaker destined to fuck up over and over until I’m back in jail.
 

“Gray?” she repeats. “If these guys are as bad as you say, then we definitely should call the police. I’ll tell them they’ve been stalking me…making threats. I don’t even have to mention you.”
 

I didn’t even say anything and she’s already thought of everything. God, I love her. “I wish it were that easy.”
 

“Why isn’t it?”
 

“Arresting those guy isn’t going to stop the problem. Send that guy out there to jail and we’ll just piss them all off even more. I have to go to the source.”
 

Pepper’s chest rapidly rises and falls. “Where is that?”
 

“I’m not sure. I can find out…I think. Let’s not talk about it here.”
 

Pepper wraps up what’s left of the cheese and puts it in the bag with the wine. She eyeballs the door, and then turns to me. “Are they waiting for you?”
 

“Not out there. There are too many people.”
 

“What do they want from you?”

I open the door and watch headlights fly by. “I don’t really know, but I have a feeling they don’t like that I was able to get out.”

“Get out?”
 

“My father stole money from a motorcycle club he was in,” I spit out. “And when he died, his debt passed to me.”
 

Pepper’s mouth opens and she takes a sharp inhale. “That’s what my father meant about paying for your freedom.”
 

“Yes. He paid what was owed so I could come here with you.”
 

“This is more complicated than I thought.”
 

“You could say that again.” We step back into the flow of people I wrap my arm around Pepper. “Where does your uncle live?”
 

“He’s not home,” she says. “He might be in his late fifties, but Uncle David wouldn’t go home on a Friday night. Not alone at least.”
 

“Oh, fuck. I’ll take you back to the manor. Is the helicopter ready and waiting? I don’t know how that works.” I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll get you home. You have a panic room, right?”
 

Pepper steps in front of me, stops, and whirls around. “I’m not hiding in the panic room while you go out there and chase monsters I know nothing about. We are going to the police. I will tell them those guys with the reaper patches have been following me, trespassing…whatever it takes. And Gray, you might have been wrong before, but you’re not now. You have the right to use our legal system too.”
 

“It’s not just that, Pepper…you get your name mixed up in a one-percent motorcycle club and the media will be all over it. You said it yourself not that long ago: you’re responsible for thousands of people’s jobs. It’s fucking unfair, but it’s how it is. Pepper Davenwood is a name that can’t be tarnished.”
 

Her face breaks. “I hate that you’re right. I hate this so much. What do we do?”

“First thing is getting you somewhere safe. Can you call your security and have them escort you home?”
 

“Yes. Or we could go a few blocks over to my father’s penthouse on Park Avenue.”
 

“Is it safe?”
 

Her lips pull into a half smile. “Apparently you’re not familiar with penthouses on this part of Park Avenue. Not just anyone can even get into the building, let alone the actual house. And it has a panic room,” she adds when I don’t look convinced.
 

“All right.”
 

“And once we get there, you’re telling me everything. I won’t give you the code to leave until you do. Actually, I might keep you there with me forever.”
 

I feel a tug on my heart. It’s that homesickness again, but I’m not longing for a place. Anywhere is home if we’re together. “I can live with that.”
 

It doesn’t take long before we’re in an elevator on our way up to the fifteenth floor of Alcott’s Park Avenue penthouse. The doors open and we step into an entryway that leads only to the penthouse. Pepper unlocks the door and turns off the alarm, turning it right back on as soon as we’re inside.
 

“I set it to go off if the entry doors, the service elevators, or the rooftop door are opened.”
 

“Rooftop?”
 

“The penthouse is three floors. Plus the roof terrace.”
 

Holy fuck. “What’s on the roof?”
 

Pepper shakes her head, unsure. “A fireplace, tables and lounge chairs, and a pool.”
 

“You have a pool. On the roof. In the middle of fucking Manhattan.”
 

“Yes. Want to see it?”
 

“Yeah,” I say and follow Pepper through the house. We both know showing off the pool is a distraction, a way to keep cold, hard reality from crashing down on us. It’s probably half the size of the century-old manor, but it impresses me even more. I’ve known the Davenwoods for going on twenty years, and it still blows my mind that people live like this.
 

And this was Alcott’s second home. He had a third in Paris, if I’m remembering correctly. I host a mental debate as we go up a curved staircase. The Jackals would have a field day with someone like Pepper. Before her father died, she remained somewhat in the shadows of her family name. She’s a quiet person. She likes privacy and never seeks out the limelight like some heiresses do.
 

But now…now she’s the topic of many conversations. Is she too big for the Jackals to go after?
 

Hell yes.
 

But that won’t stop the Jackals, and I have the feeling they’re too dumb and cocky to realize that going after someone like Pepper Davenwood will pull the pin from their grenade. They’ll stand there with their dicks out as they pass the explosive device back and forth until it finally explodes.
 

They’ll get caught. Totally busted and broken up by the long arm of the law. But who is in the middle of that circle when shit blows up…that’s what scares me.
 

Pepper punches in a code and disarms the door leading to the rooftop terrace. She opens the door and steps into the night.
 

“Holy fuck,” I say and look around. The terrace is huge, with outdoor couches and lounge chairs around a brick fireplace, a long table, and a pool that goes right up to the edge.
 

“It is pretty nice,” Pepper says and shuts the door behind us. “Are you any good at starting fires?” She motions to the fireplace.

“I can try.” There is a gas switch, making it easy to get the fire going. Pepper leans against the railing, looking down at the city lights below. I go up behind her, resting a hand on the limestone railing. It still holds heat from the sun. “What do you want to know first?” I ask her.
 

She turns, eyes meeting mine. “Nothing right now.” Her hands leave the stone railing and land on the buttons of my jacket.
 

“Pepper,” I groan, surprising myself with my hesitation. “I should go.”

“We’re not in danger right now,” she says and slowly unbuckles my belt. “Right?”
 

“Not this very moment, no.”

“That’s all I’m asking for: this moment with you.”
 

“I’ll give you that,” I promise and take her head in my hands, stepping in to kiss her. The moment our lips meet, passion erupts and it’s all I can do not to rip that dress right off her body. Instead, I reach behind her, taking the zipper pull between two fingers. I kiss her neck. Pepper moans, tipping her head back and pushing her breasts against me. She staggers back, and leans against the railing. Then she puts both hands on my head and pushes me down.

She is so fucking hot.
 

I drop down to my knees, cock rock hard already. Slowly, I run my hands up her legs, starting by her ankles, moving up, up, and up. My fingers inch under the hem of her dress little by little, and I kiss the inside of her thighs. She widens her legs, impatient, and I can’t help but smile knowing that I’m driving her fucking insane.
 

With one hand, I reach under her dress and slip my fingers under her lace thong. My fingers sweep against her pussy, and damn, she’s wet for me. She reacts to my touch and is desperate for more. I slip my other hand under her dress, pushing the hem up. Keeping her panties on, I start working my fingers and bring my mouth to her, letting the lace barrier tease her more. I reach between her legs, grabbing the back of her panties. I let my breath warm her, and start to pull her thong down.

She presses herself against me, close to coming. I pull her panties off and put my mouth on the tender flesh of her thigh.
 

“Don’t you dare stop, Grayson King,” she pants and reaches for me. She takes a handful of my hair and guides my face back between her legs. I toss her legs over my shoulders, causing her to balance between myself and the railing. All it would take for her to go tumbling is me standing up.