The Handler (Noir et Bleu Motorcycle Club #2) (5 page)

“Fine,” she agreed, but I was doubtful she meant it.

“I’m nineteen.” I considered asking if she really was sixteen, but I didn’t want to encourage more conversation.

She was quiet for a while, and I thought she was maybe going to fall asleep. Less than a minute later she said, “Cain.”

I groaned, regretting I hadn’t negotiated with Hal for more money. “What?”

“Thanks for today.”

It was hard to stay annoyed when it was obvious she just needed someone to talk to. I rolled over and mumbled, “You’re welcome. Good night.”

Chapter Five

My hip was killing me when I woke up in the morning. Sleeping on the hardwood floor was not a great idea. Lincoln was still asleep. My phone vibrated on the shelf and bounced around noisily, so I reached over and answered it before it woke her up. I thought it would be Liv, but it wasn’t.

“Hey, Huck. How’s it going?” I whispered.

“Good. Did you really work on the new Lincoln Todd video?”

“Yeah.” It felt good to hear her excited.

“Do you think you can get me an autograph?”

I glanced over at Lincoln and smiled. “Yeah, definitely.”

She squealed, and I had to hold the phone away from my ear. “Oh my God, that is so cool!”

I lowered my voice so I wouldn’t disturb Lincoln and asked, “Has Grandpa taken you to visit Mom lately?”

“We’re going today.” She paused, and her tone changed. “Grandpa said you aren’t really there for school and you haven’t come home because you’re trying to find the third guy. Are you?”

She knew the Noir et Bleu had her and my grandparents in a safe house to protect them leading up to the trial, but I hadn’t told her I was looking for the third guy. I inhaled and forced out the lie, “I’m not looking for him.”

“Then come home.”

I didn’t want her to worry, so I said, “I will. Soon. I’m just going to finish the courses I’m taking and make some more money before I do. Okay?”

“What would you do if you accidentally found him?”

“I would call the police,” I reassured her. That part was true. She didn’t need to know his fate depended entirely on who found him first, me or the Noir et Bleu.

“Jamie, if something bad happens to you, too,” Huck whispered. “I’ll be sad for the rest of my life.”

“I know, Huckleberry. Nothing bad is going to happen to me. Don’t worry.”

“Promise you’ll come home soon.”

“I promise.” It killed me to hear her voice crack. “I love you.”

“Don’t forget to send Lincoln’s autograph so I can show everyone I know.”

“Yeah. Say hi to Mom for me.”

“Okay. Bye.”

I hung up and rolled onto my back. Lincoln sat cross-legged on the bed. She smiled in an apologetic way. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It’s a small room.”

It was a small room. Too small for two people who shouldn’t have spent the night together. “Get dressed. I’ll give you a ride to your hotel.”

“Was that your sister?”

I glanced at her as I folded the blanket. I didn’t answer.

“How old is she?”

I stored the blanket in the closet. “Fourteen.”

“It’s cute how you call her Huckleberry,” she said as she made the bed.

I dressed in a pair of jeans and watched as she wiggled into her jeans. When she took off the T-shirt she borrowed, I turned away to give her privacy, but not before I caught a glimpse of her pink satin bra. “What’s with that necklace?” I asked to distract my male brain.

She put her own shirt on, placed her palm over the plastic unicorn charm, and frowned. “Why?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. It looks like something from a vending machine. I would have thought someone like you would wear expensive jewelry.”

“It has sentimental value.”

There was a knock at the door, and Gin shouted, “Hey, Cain, does Jailbait like eggs?”

She smiled and nodded.

I shouted, “No!”

She shouted, “Yes, I do, thanks!”

“All right, breakfast in five,” Gin said through the door. His footsteps got quieter as he walked away.

I shook my head at her and lowered my voice, “We’re leaving.”

“I’m hungry,” she used a slightly whiney voice and rubbed her flat stomach.

“We’ll stop at a drive-thru.”

“Ah, come on.” She shoved my shoulder playfully. “You said they’re harmless, and it’s already cooking.”

“I said they wouldn’t hurt you, not that they’re harmless. Let’s go.” I opened the door and turned left to head for the front door. She turned right and disappeared around the corner into the living room. “Jesus.” I spun around and chased after her.

Lincoln only took one step into the room and stood frozen as if she had accidentally stumbled into a pit of lions. Gin was in the kitchen and three other guys were lounged around in the living room. Mug, Gin, and Kaz lived in the house. Crow had obviously crashed on the couch for the night and smelled like it. They were all wearing jeans and leather vests over T-shirts. They all had tattoos covering every inch of skin on their arms and they all had long hair, except Kaz who was bald.

Gin smiled. “Hey, Jailbait, how’d you sleep?”

She glanced at me and stepped closer to wrap her hand around my elbow. “Fine.”

“We can’t stay. Sorry, Gin. Thanks anyway.”

He waved the spatula in the air to show that he heard me, then kept cooking.

“What’s the hurry?” Mug asked. “You don’t bring a girl home in the entire six months you’ve lived here, and when you finally do, you want to rush her off.”

“She has an appointment she needs to be at.”

“At ten,” she said.

I glared at her to make her stop talking.

“You guys have plenty of time for breakfast. Have a seat.” Crow got up and swept all the poker chips and empty beer bottles into a cardboard box to clear the table. “You look kind of familiar,” he said to Lincoln and stared at her. “What’s your name?”

“Tessa.”

“I feel like I’ve met you before. Even your voice sounds familiar. Were you ever with one of the guys from the club?” He looked around the room to see if the rest of them recognized her, too.

“She hasn’t been with anyone from the club,” I answered for her and sat down. She sat next to me.

“You’d better hope she hasn’t been with anyone from the club,” Mug said.

Crow sat across from us and kept studying her. Gin brought in a stack of plates and served up the eggs as everyone else joined us at the table. Lincoln stole glances at each of them as they ate.

“You need some Viagra or something, Cain?” Mug asked me.

“What? Why?”

“Well, either you guys are the quietest fuckers on the planet or you didn’t close the deal last night.”

“Shut up.”

He laughed. “I got a guy who can hook you up with some pills.”

I shook my head and drank the last of the orange juice.

Lincoln slid her arm across my shoulder. “Cain doesn’t need any pills.” She raised her eyebrow in a suggestive way and added, “Trust me.”

They all laughed. Mug smacked the back of my head as he got up from the table and moved to sit in his recliner. I shovelled down the rest of my breakfast. Crow still watched Lincoln’s every move. “I’ve got it!” he shouted. “You look like that Lincoln Todd chick.”

“I wish,” Lincoln said without missing a beat.

“Yup, that’s it. You look exactly like her. You should see if she needs a double or something. They’d probably pay you pretty good. Then, once you’ve met her, tell her Crow wants to show her a good time.” He sat back in his chair and smiled at the thought of hooking up with Lincoln Todd.

“That’s gross,” Lincoln said. “I think she’s only like sixteen. That would make you a bit of a perv.”

“He’s already more than a bit of a perv, sweetheart,” Kaz said. “Maybe we should make that your new nickname.”

Crow shrugged. “Sure, I don’t care. Crow, Perv, what’s the difference?”

“Isn’t there already a Perv in the San Diego club? Merv the Perv. He raped all those high school girls in a barn or something,” Mug said.

“He’s dead. They knifed that sick fuck when he got out of jail,” Gin said.

“All right, time to go.” I tightened my hand around Lincoln’s upper arm to make her stand.

“Nice to meet you all,” she said and waved as I pulled her away.

“Hey,” Crow called. “You should tell everyone that you are Lincoln Todd. They’d believe you.”

“Nah. I wouldn’t want to be her. Her life probably sucks.” She winked at me. Unfortunately, Mug saw her do it. His eyes narrowed, and he studied her face.

“Gin, can I borrow your bitch lid?” I asked, trying to avoid making eye contact with Mug.

“Yup.”

I rushed her outside.

She frowned at the helmet I took off Gin’s bike for her. “It’s a bit offensive to call it a bitch lid, isn’t it?”

“They do way more offensive things than that. Hurry up.”

She scrunched up her nose and put it on. “Why do you need to live here? What kind of favor are they doing?”

Not wanting to get into it, I said, “It’s complicated. Get on.”

I drove her downtown to the Beverly Wilshire and stopped in front of the lobby. She hopped off and removed the helmet, but she didn’t hand it back to me. Her eyebrows angled together, reluctant to say goodbye. Then her face lit up with the type of smile guys will do stupid things for.

“Do you think your sister would like an autograph?” she asked.

I returned the smile—partly because I was impressed she figured out the one thing that would convince me to stay a little longer, and partly because I was glad she did. “She would love an autograph. If you don’t mind.”

“I’d be happy to.” She stepped closer and handed me the helmet. “If you want to come up to my room, I can sign a headshot for her.”

My gaze landed on her waist and made its way up her body to her face, pausing in a few spots without my full consent. Based on her confident expression, she knew I would agree, so I didn’t even bother to pretend to struggle with the decision. I turned the engine off and unassed.

It was a really expensive hotel, and I felt like everyone was staring at me as we walked across the marble lobby. Lincoln and I rode alone in the elevator to the top floor, and the silence was awkward, at least for me. She had no reason to be uncomfortable with me coming up to her room since my only intention was to get the autograph for my sister, but she probably should have at least been thinking about how guys in general might have gotten the wrong idea from the invitation.

As we walked down the hall, I glanced sideways at her to see if she knew what she was doing, or if she was blissfully innocent. It was hard to tell. She was definitely not stupid, but she did seem sheltered enough to naively trust everyone she met, which was something I didn’t want to encourage. She slid the card to unlock the door and stepped into the room.

To keep everything simple and perfectly clear, I said, “Uh, I’ll wait here.”

She shot me a half-smile, maybe not sure whether to be flattered or offended by my hesitation. “It’s a suite. You can wait in the living room.”

Over her shoulder, I could see the room. It was as big as an apartment and decorated with classy and modern furniture. Arguably, she shouldn’t have trusted me, but since she could trust me, I looked both ways down the empty hall, then followed her.

“Help yourself to whatever you want to drink or eat.” She pointed at the bar as she removed her jacket and dropped her purse on the couch. “I’ll be right back.”

She disappeared into the bedroom. I wandered over and stepped out onto the patio to check out the view. Fifteen minutes later, she joined me on the patio wearing black pants and a silky blouse. Her hair was brushed straight and she smelled really good. She smiled when she caught me staring.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. I took a quick shower.” She handed me a glossy eight by ten black and white photo of her on stage, already signed to Huck with all her love. It was hard to imagine that the person I’d been hanging out with all night was the same person rocking out in a feathery costume in the picture. I glanced back and forth between her and the image trying to make the connection.

“It’s a really cool photo,” I finally said.

“It was taken by a famous music photographer. There are only limited prints. So…” her voice trailed off modestly.

“Huck’s going to love it. Thank you.” I leaned in and hugged her quickly with only one arm, hoping it would come across as the friendly gesture of gratitude I intended it to be.

The close contact, although it was brief, made her cheeks turn pink. After she stepped back, she tucked her hair behind her ears in a self-conscious way. “You’re welcome. And—” After a long pause where she appeared to not know what to do next she said, “Um. Yeah. You probably want to get going.”

“Yeah, uh, before I do,” I watched her eyes widen in innocent anticipation, which is exactly why I needed to tell her to be careful. “In the future, you shouldn’t trust a guy you don’t know. You can’t expect to spend the night in his bed or to invite him up to your suite without him getting the wrong idea. A lot of guys would have taken advantage of you in situations like that.”

“You didn’t.”

“Yeah, well, most guys probably would have.”

“You didn’t,” she repeated adamantly. “Maybe I’m a better judge of character than you think.”

I nodded to concede her point, but I also hoped she would take what I said seriously. I extended my hand to shake hers. “Nice meeting you.”

“Likewise,” she said and held on to my hand for longer than a normal shake before she spun around and disappeared into the suite. I followed.

As we reached the foyer, someone knocked. She peeked through the peephole, then opened the door. It was Hal. His gaze shifted from her to me and his smile transitioned into a mixture of confusion and contempt. “What’s he doing here?” he asked under his breath.

“He gave me a ride last night. To thank him, I told him to come by to get an autograph for his little sister.”

I held up the photo to prove it was true and totally innocent.

He didn’t appear to be entirely convinced, but he shifted his focus back to her. “You’re ready early. It’s a miracle. I take it that means you made your decision to go ahead with the tour.”

“No.” She shook her head, and a crease formed in her forehead. She definitely hadn’t spent the night deciding on her future the way she was supposed to. “I didn’t make up my mind yet. I’m only up and ready and in a good mood because I spent the night with Cain.”

“What?” Hal and I both exclaimed at the same time.

“It wasn’t like that,” I clarified, but he appeared more concerned by her not wanting to do the tour than by what she said about me.

“You can’t throw away your entire career and everything we’ve worked so hard for because you met a punk in a leather jacket.”